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haus-seeblick · 3 years

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Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

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

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation.

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right.

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #laisse tomber les filles #the devil all the time #college au #au

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

so i read this scenario on reddit and i thought it would be a cute and fluffy fic idea if you want to write it :)

one of the Pedro boys (i was thinking frankie or marcus moreno but you can put any one of them that you feel like would fit the story) lands himself in the hospital and the reader visits him often cause they’re friends. they notice that every time they visit, his heart rate monitor speeds up, like not enough to cause alarm but enough to be noticeable, and that’s how she finds out that he likes her and they decide to date (after he gets out of hospital)

Appendicitis (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Summary: ^^

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: talk of being ill, vomit, pain, lots of talk of hospitals and that being a major setting, Frankie is a dad, language

A/N: welcome back to Josie’s quest to clean her inbox! This idea was so precious!! I hope you guys like it!!

Frankie is in fucking agony. Never has he felt something as painful as this, never has such pain radiated through his body so intensely that he has no choice but to vomit out his stomach’s contents.

He spends the day at home, occupying his daughter as best he can while he’s in such suffering. He figures that maybe it’s just really bad gas cramping or constipation. Marisol plays quietly, at her daddy’s request, watching her favorite Disney movies on the couch while nuzzled into his side. Frankie has never been so grateful to get her into bed at the end of the day.

After a full day of the pain, and realizing that it wasn’t going away no matter how many painkillers he took, Frankie gave in around midnight. Lying in his bed, skin turning gray and the pain now decisively in his right side, Frankie called you.

After a few rings, you picked up. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hi.” His voice sounds agonized. “How much do you charge for babysitting again?” He asks, the strain clear.

You’re confused, pushing the phone closer to your ear and thinking it might be the distance that makes him sound so odd. “Uh, you’re my friend, so free. You need me to take Mari?” You ask him.

He nods. “Yeah; how much for like a week though? I don’t want to impose though, and-“

His voice sounds terrible. “Frankie. Shut up. A week? What’s wrong? I can take Marisol for as long as you need, but I gotta know what’s going on.”

Frankie is quiet before he grunts softly in pain. “I think my appendix might be fucked up. It hurts like fucking hell. Mari’s asleep, I don’t wanna wake her or anything, but could you-“

You cut him off once more, sitting bolt upright. “I’m on my way over. Do you think you can hang on until I get there? I can drive you to the hospital, or we’ll get one of the boys.”

“That sounds good,” Frankie agrees. “Fuckin’ ambulances are so expensive.”

You chuckle softly. “Hang in there, Fish, okay? I’m gonna call Will, see if he can drive you and I’ll stay with Mari. How’s that?”

Marisol loves you. There’s no better solution in Frankie’s eyes: she behaves better for you than she does for him. She’ll be in good hands, happy for as long as he needs to be in the hospital healing. “Perfect. God, you’re a fucking angel. Don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve better than me,” you snort as you pull on a hoodie and slip on some shoes. “I’m gonna call Will. You got this, Fish. Distract yourself. I’ll send you updates.”

When you arrive at the Morales household, Will’s truck is already in the driveway. He lives closer, so it makes sense. Be quiet and don’t wake Mari, you remember as you slip off your shoes and head up the stairs of Frankie’s home. It’s quiet, unsurprising for this time of night, and you know Mari is a light sleeper. Frankie would never want to wake her at this hour.

Wandering into his room, you find Will standing next to the bed and an incredibly worn-looking Frankie. His skin holds barely any color, his face almost green in nausea. You rush to his side. “Frankie, holy shit,” you exclaim in a loud whisper, taking his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I will be if Miller mans up and gets me out of this bed,” he says, followed by a chuckle with no humor.

Will sighs. He’s wearing pajamas too, looking as exhausted as you are. Frankie groans as he hears Mari’s tiny voice over the baby monitor. “Fuck. You’re staying with her, Will’s bringing me?” He clarifies, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes.

Nodding, you squeeze his hand. “Give me directions quickly and I’ll go get her. You gotta sit up first, Frankie,” you reassure him.

He squeezes your hand back tight and sits up, his face contorting in pain. There’s a flush of redness to his cheeks, and it makes him look more human for a moment until it fades again. “She won’t fall back asleep unless she’s in this bed with you. She needs the attention. Uh, food is in the fridge, you know emergency shit,” he says, with surprising coherence for the pain he’s in.

You nod and ruffle Frankie’s soft bedhead. “Benny- fuck,” you wince, knowing the Miller brothers hate being mixed up. Somehow, even with their distinct personalities, you do it all the time. “Will. Send me updates,” you remind him as you stand. “And you, Francisco,” you murmur and press a kiss to his sweat-beaded forehead, “get some strong pain meds and get better for me and Mari.” You smile softly and walk out of the room.

The room next to Frankie’s is beautiful, a sage green paint and lots of woodland creatures painted on the walls by Frankie’s surprisingly artistic hands. There’s a crib covered by a creamy white canopy and the little girl pokes her head up, tilting to the side in confusion as she sees you.

It’s not fear, of course. Mari loves you, absolutely adores you in fact. She’s just… confused. Her little brain can tell it’s the middle of the night. “Where’s Daddy?” She asks, making uppy arms at you.

You walk over to her crib, picking her up and kissing her head. “Daddy’s got a tummyache, cutie,” you tell her and tickle her tummy gently, making her giggle and bury her tiny face in your chest. “He’s gonna go see the doctor and get it all fixed up, okay? You and I are gonna have so much fun,” you assure her, and she giggles again.

You can hear two sets of feet, slowly moving. “Let’s go give Daddy a kiss goodbye, okay?” Mari nods and rubs her little eyes.

Frankie’s got an arm around Will’s shoulders in the hall, looking absolutely agonized. He smiles a little as he sees you and his baby. “Hey, patita,” he chuckles. He dubbed her duckling from the soft tufts of fluff on her head as a baby. “Be good while I’m gone.”

Mari nods and puts a hand on either side of Frankie’s sweating face, making a little pout and giving him a kiss. “Love you, Daddy,” she says, a yawn overtaking her tiny face.

“Love you too,” he nods and looks up at you. “I owe you.”

“Friends don’t owe each other,” you shake your head. “Now get your a… butt to the hospital, Morales,” you tell him and pat Will on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

He nods at you and the two men shuffle along through the house until they can get Frankie into the car and on his way to (hopefully) sedation and a cure.

Yawning again, Mari’s big brown eyes look up at you from where you hold her on your hip. “Snack?” She asks you, pointing towards the kitchen.

Her little voice and tiny, pudgy fingers are too much. “I suppose. Only because we’re having special girls’ time,” you tease and boop her nose. Setting her on the counter, you grab some cubes of cheese and some berries, which you make sure are in small pieces.

Mari’s content to eat her snacks with you, and you can see her growing sleepier again as the plate empties out. “Sleepy?” You ask her, and she nods. “Alright, cutie pie,” you sigh and lift her, holding her to your chest as she wraps her arms around your neck and her legs around your torso. “Do you want me to cuddle with you?” You ask.

She nods. “Gotta snuggle for late sleepies. Daddy says that.”

The words melt your heart. Frankie’s always been so good with her, so warm and skilled and precious. It only makes your crush on the man grow every time his little girl babbles about how much she loves her daddy. “Does he?”

She nods. “Daddy sings for me.”

Frankie singing Marisol to sleep. The idea melts your heart. You need in on that. “What does he sing to you?” You ask. “What’s your favorite song that daddy sings to you?”

She thinks for a moment as you sit on the edge of the bed, allowing her to clamber off your lap and into the cozy king-sized bed. “Rocket Man.” It’s hard to decipher in her baby-talk, but you get it.

“He sings that for you?” You ask as you get under the covers, into the blankets that are still warm from Frankie’s body heat, that smell like his cologne.

Mari snuggles into your chest, and nods softly. “Can you sing Rocket Man?”

“Of course,” you nod and trace little circles into the toddler’s back, singing the Elton John song to her in a soft voice. It doesn’t take long, now that she’s in her daddy’s bed and got a snack, for her to fall asleep. She snores softly, and you follow suit not too long after.

It did turn out that Frankie had appendicitis. The doctors weren’t entirely sure what caused it, but you and the Miller brothers rotated your time with Marisol at home and the hospital with Frankie, as his stay was painfully long for such an active man. Santiago video chatted often, but being out of town prevented him from physically seeing Fish.

It took him about a week to recover, and that time was mostly spent napping or watching the television in his room. He’d bullshit with the guys or you when you were around, and he especially loved the time of the afternoon every day where one of you brought Marisol to see him.

Usually it was just you or one of the Millers who stayed in the room with him. The other two either stayed with Marisol or got to stay at home and rest for themselves. It was a lucky day when you and Benny got to both be with Frankie for a while, telling stories and laughing. It was your turn to be off-duty, but all you wanted from your free time was to be with the man.

Your presence has always made Frankie’s heart rate a little faster. It’s always made his palms a little clammy, and his pants a little tighter sometimes. At least now he can attribute it to the pain.

Every time his eyes catch yours, his heart monitor gets a little louder. It’s odd, but you shrug it off. It can’t mean anything. It’s just your Frankie. After an hour or so of spending time with the guys, you run to get fast food for the three of you. While you’re away, you receive a text from Benny.

Benny Boy: you’re fucking with his head, bro

You: what?

Benny Boy: the heart rate monitor is nearly silent right now. every time frankie looks at you it spikes, don’t tell me you haven’t been noticing that

You: do you want nuggets or a burger?

You: thats ridiculous, Benny.

Benny Boy: always nuggets. but seriously, his heart rate is at like 54 right now, he’s just chilling and kind of dozed off. let’s check it when you come back.

You: be prepared for the most boring science experiment ever. also, what dip do you want?

After you receive your bulging bags of food, stuffed from both Benny’s and Frankie’s massive appetites, you return to the hospital.

You: walking in. pulse status?

Benny: 60. he’s a little more awake now.

As you enter the room, Frankie turns to you and grins. “Hey. What did you get?” He asks.

You plop the bags on the small table overhanging Frankie’s bed and grin. “Just your usual order. I know what you like,” you shrug as you unpack the food.

Beep beep beep beep. HR: 77

Smiling at the rate of Frankie’s heart, more than you should really, you sit down back next to Benny and the three of you eat your food. It’s somewhat quiet, the chatter dying as you devour the fast food, savoring the grease and salt.

After everyone is finished, you stand and clean up the garbage, tossing it all away. You sit back down on Frankie’s bedside. “So, macho man. How’s the pain?” You ask, your fingers tracing his good side.

Beep beep beep beep beep. HR: 86

He shrugs. “It hurts like a bitch, and they said it’s gonna keep hurting like a bitch.”

“Poor baby,” you chuckle, cupping the side of his face and kissing his forehead softly.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep. HR: 96

Benny groans and stands. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom.” He smacks your arm as he walks past, as if rubbing in the evidence he’s found. “And then take a walk, I think.”

You’re still seated at Frankie’s side, on the inflatable hospital mattress. “Oh Benjamin,” Frankie rolls his eyes. “Why’d he leave so quick?”

You shrug, though you know the answer. “Who knows? Benny can’t even predict himself,” you chuckle. Frankie’s hand rests over his chest. You slide your hand over his torso and lace your fingers through his until you’re holding it. You can feel his heart thumping steadily against it. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Beep beep beep beep. HR: 104

He smiles. “I’m lucky I have you.”

You sigh softly as you look up at the heart rate monitor again. “I gotta say, you have a really high resting rate,” you say nonchalantly, as if you believe it.

Frankie’s face warms. “I, uh-“

“I’m kidding, Frankie,” you mumble softly to him, smiling a little. “I really like you, and I think that monitor is helping me know you like me too. When you get out of here, can we maybe go on a date some time?”

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. HR: 112

Nodding enthusiastically, those floppy curls move with his head. “I would love that,” he tells you with a beaming smile. “God, have you been able to tell all day?” He asks as he looks up at the monitor, his ears burning with heat as he reads the pulse rate. It’s embarrassingly high.

“Yeah,” you finally admit and smile down at him. “But it’s cute. And it makes me feel all warm inside because I finally know you like me too.”

Big brown eyes stare up at you with all of the love in the world. “If I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown, I’d kiss you right now,” he promises. “But that’ll have to wait.”

“Yes it will,” you nod and kiss his forehead again, easing him back against the mattress he’d lifted up from slightly. “Now I’m going to go find Benny, and you slow down that heart rate,” you tease and ruffle his curls.

“I’m not gonna be able to slow it down with you around,” he says with a soft smile, his eyes slipping shut.

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#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #benny miller #will miller #will ironhead miller

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

Curly Hair and Blue Eyes, Just like yours

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem! Reader

Summary: You decide to tell Clark Kent about the daughter he never knew he had with you, and he only wishes he had found out about her in a better situation.

Warnings: Kidnapping , Violence, Angst

[My Masterlist]

"Baby, we gotta go, come on out now," You called from the kitchen, having stuffed Piper's lunchbox into her tiny little bag that you had now propped on your shoulder. Little feet raced down the staircase of your home and you smiled, when you saw the little blue eyed girl, her hair neatly settled into two pigtails on either sides of her head, poked her head in. You knelt down in front of her, helping her put her bag on.

"Mommy? I wanna have Uncle Jerry's apple pie— " You smiled as you stood back up, quickly kissing the top of her head, as you took her hand in yours, your fingers clasping against the five year old's tiny ones.

"Well, if you are a good girl at school today, mommy might think of baking you one instead for dessert," you smiled down at her as the two of you walked out of your tiny two bedroom apartment in a tiny, cramped street in Metropolis where you had lived for years. You buckled her into the passenger seat, laughing to yourself listening to her as she had decided that now was the time to speak to her doll.

Being a single mother, there was so much on your plate always. Your days started with leaving Piper at Kindergarten, heading straight to the grocery store where you worked after leaving her. Four hours later you drove back to her school, picked her up and brought her back to the store with you, where you fed her and let her play around at the back, until 4 pm when finally, you ended your shift and the two of you drove your way back home.

You straightened the crease on your shirt, leaning against the fence along with the other young mothers who were waiting to collect their wards from kindergarten, just like you were until the bell rang somewhere inside, and a flurry of kids arrived, like bees floundering in the air.

You knelt down, throwing your arms out at the sight of your daughter who pushed herself into you, and you kissed her on her nose, and she giggled.

"Mommy, guess who vi- vitit— " She stammered, trying to say the word but she couldn't.

"Visited?" You asked, smiling at her, and she nodded.

"Visi- ted today."

You pulled yourself up, taking her hand in yours as you began walking with her towards the car parking, glancing down at her every ten seconds or so.

"Superman!!" She excitedly screamed, clapping as you opened the car door for her. The smile that was earlier on your lips dropped at the mention of him, and instead, a hollow look now ghosted your eyes as you regarded her briefly, giving her a fake smile and nodded, buckling her into the passenger seat, "Hm, I see. Why was he there?"

The car ride back to the store was a quiet one from your end, where only Piper spoke telling you of how the Superman had visited the kindergarten today, spent time with the children, telling them how they all were strong enough to grow up and be Supermen and Superwomen themselves. There were times when you snorted, not win disbelief, quickly masking it with a fake laugh, listening to your daughter talk about him.

You hated him, atleast you thought you did. You realized, the more you listened to her describe, Clark Kent was just the same— just the way you remembered him to be six years ago, when you had last met him.

How were you supposed to tell the innocent little child what Superman used to be to you?

Six years back, he had left you, leaving you broken hearted, and had walked out of your life, without giving you a reason as to where had you gone wrong in your relationship with him. No matter how much you tried, pleading and begging him to reconsider, it appeared as though he had already made up his mind.

"[Y/N], this will hurt for a while, and then you will be okay, trust me."

How the hell were you supposed to trust him when he was the one responsible for the excruciatingly painful heartbreak that you had witnessed?

You watched him, followed the news, watching every single success that Superman attained, his face plastered to your television screen, his charming boyish smile tugging at your heartstrings but you still felt happy, knowing how he was saving the world. Although, ironically, he had done nothing to save your crumbling relationship.

You would have still forgiven him, had you not found out, just a month after he had left you, that you were pregnant.

At first, you thought that Clark deserved to know— after all, he had every right to be in his child's life, and you were no one to take that boon away from him, or your child. Sucking it up, you had forced yourself to go to the Daily Planet building, to talk to Clark, to tell him what you had found out.

You didn't. You couldn't. Because he looked happy with Lois Lane. So you left.

Your home smelt like a freshly baked apple pie, as you stood against the kitchen counter, the baked goodie laying in front of you just like you had promised your little girl. Outside, in the living room, you could hear the television on, as Piper watched her favourite cartoon, her chuckling audible to you, which made you smile. Your golden retriever, Berry, nudged her head against your leg, causing you to bend slightly so you could pet the top of her head before she scampered off to be with her best friend once more.

"Piper, baby. Berry wants to go out."

The little girl dashed into the kitchen upon hearing your words, her excited eyes glimmering with delight as she began looking up at you.

"Mommy, can I take her out?"

You thought for a minute, planning to refuse at first but then you gave up, because the two of you, your baby girl and your furry baby both looking at you with big, googly eyes that you couldn't resist.

"Fine but stay close to the front gate, and inside. There's a lot of traffic outside, love. Mommy's gonna be watching you from the window here, alright?" You gave her a smile, watching as the two of them walked off, the dog first, followed by the girl— smiling at how considerate the big dog was around her tiny form.

While you were readying the plates, setting the dinner table, you momentarily made sure to glance out of the window, from where you could see them both, running around, being the big goofballs the two of them were. What you failed to see, was a dark hooded man, standing by your fence, watching the girl carefully, observing.

A few minutes passed by, and you decided that it was time to go out and fetch the two back inside, when you heard Berry mediating between loud barks, and pained whines. Your eyes widened, as you ran out of the house, on bare foot, the pads of your feet grazing against the grass when you saw two men, throwing your daughter into the back of a car, Berry having tied ruthlessly by her neck to the tree, the hold so hard that she was almost suffocating. By the time you ran to the gate the car was already turning down the street, until it finally disappeared out of view and you fell to your knees, screaming, crying, your heart pounding inside your chest. Someone had taken your daughter.

Finally, after two minutes of screaming your heart out, you leapt to your feet freeing Berry from the leash that had her pinned to the tree, tears still streaming down your face as you ran inside, grabbing your phone and your car keys.

There was only one who could bring her back, and there was nothing stopping you from asking from his help, because only he could do it— find her from whichever corner of Metropolis they were hiding her and bring her back.

At some time between you driving recklessly through the streets of Metropolis to the time you finally reached the Daily Planet building once again, the sky started pouring, heavily. You parked your car in the parking lot opposite to the building and without caring, you stepped out into the rain, racing your way into the building.

"Clark Kent, please, it's urgent," you literally slammed your moist fists against the desk of the office receptionist, her eyes widening when she saw the condition you were in— your hair and your outfit drenched in the rain, sticking to you, your body trembling with cold.

"Uh, sure, but who do I say is asking for him?"

"[Y/N], and please, tell him it's urgent."

You began rubbing the side of your arms fervently, trying to keep yourself warm, as the receptionist pulled the receiver to her ears, and looked up at you briefly, "Mr. Kent, a Miss [Y/N] is here. She, uh, says it's urgent, and it does look like she is in a state of.. emergency."

The receptionist disconnected the phone, slowly placing the receiver back. She looked up at you, and informed you that Clark was on his way now to see you. You began biting the insides of your cheeks— a sudden nervousness killing you from the inside. How were you going to tell him? What if he refused to help you? Where was Piper? All kinds of depressive thoughts began to sneak into your head when his silhouette finally appeared, his eyes falling on you as he was walking towards you.

Clark Kent pushed his glasses nervously over the bridge of his nose, his heart racing. He wasn't sure, why after all those years you were here to see him, and that too, this urgently. He hoped you were okay. When he stepped out of his office, his eyes fell on you. His heart broke, yet again, on the sight of you— you were dripping from head to toe, your body shivering due to the cold. His pace increased, until he was literally running towards you, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Clark." You began, only to find yourself give in, to nerve wracking sobs as he pulled you into his embrace, letting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, as he soothingly rubbed your back, thousands of memories flooding back into both your minds.

"Listen to me, there's something you should know," you hicupped, still crying hysterically. Clark slowly walked you away from the crowd that had now gathered around you and him until the two of you were in an empty cabin. He lowered you in a leather chair and pulled one in front of you, letting his palms rest on your knees, "Whats wrong?"

"I didn't know who else to go to, I -- Clark," you swallowed the lump forming in your throat, you didn't know how to begin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, or tried to, but the heaviness of your chest couldn't let you breathe, "Someone took my daughter, right from in front of my eyes. Two men, dressed in black, they came and they took her, stuffed her into their car, Clark, I don't know where to find her, what to do."

Clark's face fell— it was as though someone had cut off his oxygen supply— what else was he expecting? That you would wait for him all your life? He looked at you in a strangled way, his eyes narrowed at you, but he wasn't angry. He just looked hurt. The hands that were resting on your knees slowly pulled away and you winced at the loss of the contact, looking up at him through your teary eyes. He pressed his lips together and parted his lips, "Do you have any idea who could have —"

"No, I— Who could mean harm to an innocent little five year old, Clark? She can't even hurt a fly." You cried.

"Five.. five year old?" Clark croak, as if something was lodged inside his throat.

"Five years, and a few months to be exact.." you whispered, as your fingers gently pulled out your wallet, and inside was a picture of your beautiful little girl, her long black hair, just like Clark's curled atop her matted head. She was a true replica of him, having his luscious curls, big blue eyes and the kindest of the smiles. You slowly extended the wallet towards him, your hand trembling as your heart beat like a supersonic train. "That's— that's her, Piper ..Kent?"

Clark stepped abruptly from the chair, his fingers clasping your wallet. Weakly, he looked down at the photo, the realization sinking into him. The eyes that looked back at him from the photo were the same eyes, he didn't need proof to believe that she was his.

"Clark, I know you have questions but this isn't the time, please help me, they took her! I — I need Superman.. she needs Superman.." You pleaded him, with your eyes, looking at him.

The next minute, Clark had his hand on your shoulder, as he was walking you out of the cabin, his eyes not meeting yours.

"Get back home, incase they call for ransom or something. I will get her back."

What you didn't see when you were on your way out, was the way Clark broke down after you left. He lowered himself to his knees, watching you walk off until he had both his hands pulling at his own hair, his eyes glowing with the heat vision, his body suddenly on fire.

Two days passed, and with these two days, whatever sanity that was left within you, drained out, anxiety taking over completely. You went to the Daily Planet, looking for Clark, but he wasn't there— of course he was out looking for her. But it still didn't let you rest any easier.

By the time it was nightfall, you were pacing around in your living room, your kitchen a mess, dirty utensils from two days back still soiling the sink. Your hair were a mess as you had not bothered even running a hand through them, for you were completely shaken and distraught.

Just when you thought that your mind will probably burst with the amount of worry that was eating at you, the doorbell rang. You ran— it was like running a life marathon— as you unlocked the door, finding Superman standing at your doorstep, holding Piper in his arms, the little girl having her arm locked around Superman's neck, her face glimmering with excitement.

"Oh my fucking—" you cursed under your breath, sniffling in retaliation to the sight and n front of you as you threw out your arms towards her, "Piper, baby! You're okay! Jesus, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have been careful— "

"Mommy, do you know that Superman saved me from the bad men?" You gasped, almost wide eyed as Piper leapt into your arms, and you buried your face into your daughter's hair, nuzzling your nose against her face, holding her tight, as though if you didn't, she would slip away. What suprised you, and sort of, made you smile was her innocence — she was kidnapped and probably locked up somewhere and yet all she could think of or talk about was how Superman had saved her life. Your eyes flew to his, meeting his halfway, you could see how exhausted he looked, and a look passed between the two of you— a look of love that had been buried years back— the two of you didn't need words, and the two of you could feel how the other one felt — probably a mix of relief, anger and a lot of questions.

"Yes, he did—" You smiled, "Are you okay, Piper? Love, are you hurt?"

"She's— " Superman began speaking, and you looked at him once again, "She's fine. She isn't hurt, I made sure."

You bit your lip, your fingers toying with your daughter's curls. Finally, you stepped inside, leaving the door wide open, glancing at Superman with the corner of your eyes, "I know you want to to talk. Please, come in."

"Mommy? Is Superman staying with us tonight?"

"Piper, darling, would you go and check on Berry? She's not feeling well ever since you left—" You placed her on the floor, carefully eyeing her for any injuries, but much to your relief, there were none.

"Alright, mommy."

"You should have told me, [Y/N]. She's mine too!"

You gasped, almost inaudible, trying to suck in a mouthful of air as you fixed yourself by the window, looking out, almost cautiously, your mind still in a state of alert. When Clark saw this, he walked up to where you were, staring out of the window, and you saw his reflection behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he turned you around, "they won't come back, [Y/N]. I made sure of it."

"Who were they? What did they want?" You frowned, his hands still on your shoulders but you didn't seem to mind.

"They weren't anyone of importance, they did it for ransom, having randomly decided to kidnap her and ask you for money. How were they supposed to know they kidnapped my daughter? Like hell, I didn't know I had a daughter," he almost froze, letting his hands drop, his eyes now looking at you for answers.

You took a deep breath, running your hands through your hair, almost pulling at them in an attempt to straighten them a little, but Clark grabbed your arm, his grip on your wrist as he lowered it, showing you how his patience was wearing thin.

"You left me, Clark. Just because I was pregnant, it didn't mean I was selfish to use her as a means to get you back, or to burden you with her responsibility." You hissed, trying to pull on your wrists, but of course, how were you to match the Kryptonian's strength?

"I would have never left if I knew—"

"And this, Clark, is exactly why I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want you to decide to stay with me because.. of a baby," you had begun pacing in the living room now and Clark just stood by the window, his arms crossed against his chest, "You would have hated me one day." Suddenly, you stopped speaking and your eyes widened, your head sharply turning towards him and a thin frown appearing on his sublime features. The next minute, you were glaring at him, poking him in the chest with your index finger, "Before accusing me of hiding this from you, how would you justify you leaving me without giving me the reason? You didn't care about me, you didn't care about the fact that I cried myself to sleep for weeks, inwardly tortured for months. How very hypocritical of you, Mr. Kent."

He grabbed your hand, however his hold remained gentle on you. Very slowly, he twisted your arm behind you, stepping closer, in a way pinning you to the wall behind, looking down at you. He then scoffed— a dry, sarcastic scoff.

"I left you because I had no choice. Luthor took Lois—"

"Oh, great, Lois, and that's why you left me—"

"He took Lois because he thought Lois is the woman I'm with. You realize what this means? If he knew or find out it was you, he would have thrown you off that building. I couldn't have lived with that. I did it for you!"

Tears streamed down your face, his words finally sinking in. You parted your lips and all that came out was a gush of air. Clark placed his hand on your cheek, reluctantly, half expecting for you to push it away, but you didn't. His fingers felt hot against your skin, like embers as he cupped your face, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

"I came..one month after you left me .. to your office ..when I found out.. wanted to tell you," He nodded, blinking as he waited for you to continue. "I saw you with Lois. You looked happy, the two of you."

"Lois is just a friend, I never—" he frowned, his hand dropping from your cheek as he ran his fingers through his own hair, his exasperation evident, "It was always you."

"I can't believe this, Clark. I fucking cried myself to sleep thinking you hated me," you sniffled, falling back against your couch like a lifeless corpse, bringing both your palms to your face as you buried yourself to those, hiding yourself from his intense eyes, "That girl—" You looked up, your cheeks now stained with your tears, "she is more you than she is me. In every single way. I needed you Clark Kent."

"I'm sorry, I should never have —"

"Six years, Clark. You missed her birth, you missed watching her grow up, she was without you, and we were okay, you know? And now this happens and my life is a mess once again—"

He looked at you, dejected, his glances mediating between the floor to you and then back down to his hands. Finally, he cleared his throat, and you looked up at him, looking at the beaten Superman in front of you. He was everything but the strong superhero you knew in that split second. He was a broken man— just a man— in a spandex costume.

"If I could go back and change what I did, I'd do it in a blink of my eye."

You smiled, and replied, "It's easy to say. It wasn't your fault, though. It was perhaps, we were never meant to be."

His face fell, and he didn't try to hide it from you. You bit your lip, tasting the metal on your tastebuds as he slowly took a step away, his eyes moving from you to the stairs, perhaps hoping that he could see Piper before he left.

"If something ever happens, if you need me, I'll be there, [Y/N]. I couldn't be there when you needed me, but I'll be there from now until you don't need me anymore."

Would it ever happen when you won't need him any more? You never truly moved on, no matter how hard you tried. The void remained, in your heart, in your life and in your cold bed. Six years , and you couldn't make yourself fall in love with anyone, because no one was Clark Kent, they could never be him.

"Leaving us again, are you?" You wiped your tears with the back of your palm, and he looked at you, suprised as though he had heard you wrong.

You smiled and you looked down at your hands, they were trembling as you rubbed them fervently against the fabric of your thigh, and stood up, hesitantly at first, before a little confidence built up inside you when you saw the softness in his eyes as you walked towards him. This time you pinned him to the wall, and the taller man let you, without even trying to attempt to escape or show you just strong he was. He let himself be entrapped as you grabbed his chin, rather unceremoniously, yanking his head so he was looking down.

"Don't you want me to—" he stopped talking, finally realizing what you were trying to say to him.

"Six years, I watched you on TV, and that's just it. That was the nearest I had to feeling anything. Is this what true love is? You know someone isn't coming back yet you can't stop loving em?"

He smiled, but didn't reply. He just kept gazing into your eyes.

"Go on, go. The world needs you, Superman."

You smacked him on his chest, watching his eyes to shift to confusion once again. Awkwardly, he tilted his head to his side and shook his head, only his chin moving.

"And you? You don't?" He asked.

"No." You smiled smugly, watching his face fall, so you hurriedly added, "I need Clark Kent, not Superman. He is very broody, and I am scared of him. I would rather have my Clark back."

He gave you a toothy smile, and in that minute, he wasn't Superman anymore. He was your Clark Kent, only in a spandex costume. He wrapped you in your arms , pulling you to him, bringing down his lips to the side of your jaw, as he kissed your chin at first, and then moved on to your lips. Your lips met his, after a long time, and your insides exploded, your hands flying to the back of his head.

"Mommy!"

Clark cleared his throat, and you immediately pulled away wiping your lips and the two of you looked at each other, both your cheeks a slight crimson. You two felt like a child again, having been caught stealing cookies and Clark smiled, sitting down until he was squatting on his heels. He threw out his hand towards Piper and she ran up to him, settling herself on his thigh.

Clark looked up at you, and so did she, and you couldn't help but give them a warm smile back, because the sight was melting your heart. It was like a mini me, Clark and his little female version, looking right at you with that big blue eyes.

"What?" You asked Clark.

"Shall we tell her? Shall I tell her?"

"No, Superman." You changed your voice, grabbing him by his Cape as you pulled him up, "I don't want targets on her back. Why don't you just go on out, change into some human clothes and then we can tell her who her father is."

"But sweetheart, it's a little too late for that don't you think?" He pointed towards Piper, and your head shot towards her, you jaw almost dropping when you saw her eyes turn orange due to the heat vision, just for a bit before they turned blue again, and Superman slid his arm through your waist.

"It's okay, let them find out, Superman has a family. They still can't touch a hair on your head, not until I'm around. And I'm not..going anywhere."

"No, sweety," you gave him an apologetic smile, "that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried she's gonna go to school and boast around how her dad's Superman."

"Well, they are going to find out, one day or the other."

"You're right, Clark." You nodded, as the two of you watched her scamper off, chasing Berry, you leaning on to him.

A/N- Fuck, I realised I really got carried away with this one. I think this is the longest one shot I've ever written? I thought I'd break it into parts but oh well. I hope you guys liked it.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #superman #clark kent #kal-el x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

For Us Sinners

Soulless Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~4130

Warnings: This is 100% pure smutty religion-themed filth. Sam is dressed as a priest. There’s sex in a confessional, severe perversion of the Hail Mary prayer, and a lot of blasphemy happening. Like. A lot. Orgasm denial. Squirting. Non-explicit mentions of Winchester threesomes, gun play, and knife play.

A/N: For @stusbunker‘s “Jam Basket” fic exchange! This is for the lovely @rockhoochie. I managed to squeeze a decent amount of her jams in here. Sarah, my dear, I hope this makes you even a little bit as happy as your friendship makes me.

Thanks to @cracksinthewalls @fangirlxwritesx67 and @fookinghelljensensthighs for lore, encouragement, and inspiration!

You’re frowning at the trunk arsenal, wondering if it’s possible to sharpen a machete too much, when movement catches your eye. Sam rounds the corner of the old warehouse, and you grab a knife and a whetstone just to have something to focus on that’s not him and his stupid smirky face or the way his shoulders look in that suit.

The whole priest thing is a really good look on him.

“Dean’s not back yet?” he asks, without preamble, sitting on the edge of the trunk next to you. You focus very intently on your knife.

“Nice to see you too, Sam,” you snark, to cover the way you’re blushing. “Why yes, I did have a super fun afternoon of doing fucking nothing! Waiting around for you two is exactly how I wanted to spend the last three hours, thanks for asking.”

He laughs. “Weren’t you just telling me that I should stop pretending to be normal polite Sam?”

“Whatever,” you mutter.

“Lemme see that,” he says abruptly, and plucks the knife from your grip before you can protest. He takes one look at it and laughs at you, twirling the blade in his fingers. “Working out some frustration, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What’s really going on? You’re only like this when you’re hungry or horny.”

“Bullshit,” you snap, but he’s totally fucking right. He’s way too perceptive these days.

You’ve been refusing to play poker with him ever since this whole soulless deal came to light. He’s like a walking polygraph test… a very attractive, muscled polygraph who’s really good in the sack.

He’s analyzing your expression with his head cocked. “The knife thing?”

“I don’t know what you’re — that’s not—”

He holds the tip of the blade to your throat, and you stop stammering immediately. You close your eyes and swallow hard.

“That’s not new, though,” he says thoughtfully.

When you open your eyes, ready to protest, he’s tucking the knife back in its sheath and twisting to set it in the trunk.

“How’d you know about that?” you ask reluctantly.

He just smirks, that godawful not-Sam not-smile, with his dimples popping and his eyes glittering.

“One of these days you’re going to realize that I’ll never judge you,” he says, low and sly. “C’mon. Tell me.” He puts on a prim, sanctimonious face, pointing at the collar, and says, “Confess your sins and all will be forgiven.”

He ruins the pious effect by licking his lips and aggressively eye-fucking you.

You try to laugh, but it comes out all squeaky. You’ve never been good at poker, and if Sam’s smirk is anything to go by, he can see exactly what’s written all over your face.

“Shut up,” you say preemptively. “Asshole.”

“This is totally doing it for you, isn’t it?” Sam asks.

“Shut up.”

His smile is gleeful. “Oh my god, it is!”

“That’s not — I’m not—”

You grit your teeth and stand up abruptly, and it’s not like you can go anywhere but you need to move; it’s impossible to think straight when he’s right there and he smells so good.

He gets up so quickly you barely have time to blink before he’s in your space. He backs you against the warm metal of the door, caging you in with one big hand planted on either side of your head, and you have to tilt your chin up to meet his wickedly sparkling eyes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, soft and heated, lips curling up in a familiar dangerous smile. “Lying is a sin.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you huff, but you can’t stop staring at his mouth.

“Besides, I can always tell. Admit it.”

“You are so fucking—”

Without warning, he’s tugging at your zipper, yanking the button open, and shoving a hand roughly down the front of your jeans as he murmurs, “You are so fucking into this.”

Before you can protest (not that you’d really want to) he’s got two fingers sliding into you, curling sweet and easy where you’re ridiculously, undeniably, outrageously into this.

“Maybe a little bit,” you sigh.

He’s just smiling, watching you squirm, playing with you like a cat might play with a mouse, and as much as you’d like to be angry about it, he knows exactly how to use those clever fingers. Then —

“Dean’s back,” he says calmly, and before you can even process that, he’s sucking his fingers clean and walking around the car to greet his brother.

You have about three seconds to button your pants, thank your lucky stars that you were on this side of the car, and generally get your shit together before it’s back to business.

“It’s a goddamn garden statue,” Dean is saying. “Some crazy old bat donated it to the church and then just up and left town. First person disappeared the next day.”

“So we wait til dark, take it down, break the curse.” Sam shrugs. “Easy enough.”

“Like a chant ‘n’ smash,” you offer. Both the boys give you blank looks, and you try to pretend like your brain isn’t totally scrambled. “You know. Like a salt and burn. A good old-fashioned chant and smash… no? Okay, whatever.”

Sam is barely containing his laughter. Asshole.

“I could use a nap before we do that, I’m wiped,” Dean grumbles, taking off his clerical collar as he slides into the driver’s seat. Sam keeps his on.

As you’re all getting buckled, he says, “Why don’t you just let us handle this one, Dean? You should take the night off.”

“If you guys want some privacy to bone, you can just say so,” Dean grouches. “But get another motel room, don’t bring Baby into it.”

“Yeah, we know. We will,” Sam reassures him.

Dean does not seem reassured. He looks at Sam suspiciously. “So, what, you’re just being nice?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Sam says bluntly. “You look like shit and I don’t want you hunting with me when you’re this sleep-deprived.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, that I buy. Man, this whole soul-free honesty shit is gonna take some getting used to.”

“You and me both,” you sigh, and Sam gives you a wink in the rearview mirror.

* * *

“That is the creepiest-looking angel I’ve ever seen,” Sam comments, striking a match. “And l’m including Zachariah in that. Okay, here we go.”

He lights up the little bowl of herbs he’s concocted and says a few things in Latin, and then the smoke coming up from the bowl turns eerie green and seems to sink into the worn concrete.

“Is that it?” you ask dubiously. “How do we smash it?”

“That’s the fun part,” Sam says. He attaches a silencer and loads his gun, quick and practiced, and when you’re both out of shrapnel range he aims almost lazily while you try not to stare at his fingers. Bad enough that he’s still wearing the priest getup. Watching him shatter an angel with a few perfect shots shouldn’t be a turn-on, but…

“Shouldn’t” is one of those words that lost most of its meaning when you and Sam started fucking. In the last two weeks, he’s managed to discover kinks you’ve never even admitted to yourself.

Speaking of —

“C’mon,” he says, and when the gun is deposited safely back in the arsenal, he grabs your hand without waiting for an answer, leading you around to a side door. The door isn’t even locked. Sam’s smile is gleeful in the moonlight.

“What are we doing?” you ask, as he leads you inside.

It’s almost completely dark, just a faint glow from the emergency exit signs to light the sanctum, until Sam takes out his matches and lights a few of the tall pillar candles that are arranged in nooks around the altar. The golden glow flickers and dances on the walls.

Sam grabs you by the wrist, and you halfheartedly attempt to tug your hand away. He’s got that glint in his eye that can only mean trouble.

“We really shouldn’t be here,” you hiss, as he pulls you over to the confessional.

“What are they gonna do, condemn my soul to hell?” he says flatly, and you stifle a giggle. “We established a while ago that my immortal soul is fucked.”

“Mine isn’t,” you mutter.

He looks at you with another of those smirks and says, “That’s why you’re the one who needs to confess.”

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” you sigh, but instead of answering, he crowds in close, pressing you up against the smooth dark wood of the confessional, and kisses you, all teeth and tongue and liquefying heat, until your lips feel bruised and your entire body is tingling.

“Confess,” he whispers, and with one last grin, he points you toward one curtain and slips behind the other.

If you’ve learned anything about Sam over the years, soul or no, it’s that there’s no point arguing when he’s made up his mind about something.

Sam seems to have made up his mind.

You pull the curtain closed behind you and sit on the little bench, and you have to breathe through some long-buried memories before the words come to your lips.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you whisper. “It has been… a long time since my last confession.”

The flickering candlelight cuts through small gaps around the curtain, casting dancing shadows through the cramped space. Your cheeks are burning.

“Sam?” you ask tentatively. “This feels stupid.”

He lets out a low, cocky chuckle, and his voice is all sorts of promising when he replies, “Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while. Play along for me.”

Fine.

“Where do I start?” you mumble. “I drink, frequently. I have been dishonest. I gamble, and I do not dress modestly, and — I don’t know. What else?”

“Do you have impure thoughts?” You can hear the smile in Sam’s voice.

“Yes.”

“About what?”

You swallow hard, closing your eyes, thinking about the way he looks right now. No preacher has ever looked so good in that black suit. “About… about you.”

“Go on.”

“About the way you feel inside me. About the way you fuck me.”

“What did you think about last time you touched yourself?”

Your breath hitches. “I thought… I imagined that you —”

“Lying is a sin.”

Fuck.

That’s the thing about Sam; he won’t let you get away with politeness, or with half-truths, or with telling him what most guys would want to hear.

Fuck him and his creepy polygraph spidey senses.

“I imagined that it was Dean,” you whisper, cheeks burning.

“And how did that go, in your fantasy?” There’s no trace of surprise or hesitation in his voice.

“I was — he bent me over the hood of the car.”

“That’s not the first time you’ve thought about him, is it?”

“Sam, I don’t — this is weird,” you say, squirming slightly.

“Why?” he says, and you keep waiting for the jealousy or the disgust to color his words, but all you can hear is curiosity. “Do you think about him while I’m fucking you?”

You let out a long, measured exhale. “Yes.”

“Have you thought about him walking in? Listening to us?”

“Yes. Sam, I don’t—”

“Were you thinking about him a couple days ago, in the middle of the night? When you couldn’t seem to keep quiet?”

You shudder, pressing your thighs together. “Yes.”

“Tell me.” When you hesitate, he continues, “I wondered… felt the way you were squeezing around my cock every time it got too loud. You wanted him to hear.”

“I wanted him to — to imagine. I hoped he was awake, and that he was turned on, and—”

“You wanted him to join in,” Sam supplies, when you falter. His voice sounds husky, now. “You were imagining both of us, huh? What else?”

“Sitting in your lap, in the backseat, while he watches in the rearview,” you mumble, and now that you’ve started talking, it’s hard to stop: “I think about getting on my knees for both of you. Letting him have my mouth while you fuck me, or… one of you holding me down.”

“Have you imagined us handcuffing you? Taking turns with you?” he asks calmly.

“Well now I’m imagining it,” you huff, and your nervous giggle breaks the tension for a moment.

“I know you’re holding out on me,” Sam purrs, when the silence starts to stretch. “Leave my brother out of it, if you’re getting all hung up on that. What else?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

“Trust me. God isn’t judging you and neither am I. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

You can’t bring yourself to spit it out, even like this. “That’s it.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is silk and steel now. “Why don’t I take a guess?”

“Fine.”

“Knives,” he says bluntly, and your inhale is too sharp to be innocent. “You like the way a knife looks in my hands, the way it’d be dangerous if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“Yes.”

“You want to know what it’d be like: cold metal on your skin. A knife at your throat, or... a gun to your temple.”

You’re shaking.

“How’d you know?” you whisper.

“I pay attention,” he says simply, voice ragged, and then there’s a long pause before he asks, “Is that the end of your confession?”

You’d almost forgotten where you are. You’re grateful the screen is still between you and Sam.

“Yes,” you say, and because old habits die hard, you add, “I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past lives.”

“As for penance…” You can hear the teasing note in it, and some of your self-consciousness dissipates. “You can begin by taking off your clothes.”

“Here?” you laugh. “Sam…”

“Here. Now.”

You let out a tiny, nervous whine of protest, but you’re too turned on to care, not when you’ve already crossed so many lines tonight.

Then you strip, taking off your clothes with shaking hands and setting them in a neat-ish pile in one corner of the tiny booth. It’s chilly, and you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling goosebumps run down your bare skin.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Now... you can say ten Hail Marys,” Sam says, with that smirk in his voice again.

“I — really?” you ask.

Just as you’re thinking that’s all?, Sam is ducking through the curtain of the confessional, crowding you in and pushing on your shoulder until you sit back down on the narrow bench. Even in the barely-there flickers of light you can see the wicked smile on his face as he drops to his knees in front of you.

“And you may not come until you’re finished,” he orders coolly.

Then he’s hooking his arms under your knees, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you forward so that he can get that filthy smirking mouth on you. He licks a hot slick stripe up your center, swirling his tongue over your throbbing clit, and —

“Holy fucking shit,” you gasp, letting your head fall back against the wood with an echoing thunk, because whatever Sam’s doing with his lips is sending sweet fluttering waves of heat through your belly. “Oh my God, Sam, that’s—”

“If you keep taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he growls, nipping at your inner thigh, “I’ll double it.”

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee,” you start, and it’s been a while; Sam’s not the only reason you have to pause. “Fuck. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the — the fruit of your womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now—” Your voice breaks as you whimper, and you finish in one long rushed breath: “— and at the hour of our death, amen.”

“There you go,” Sam says, practically moaning the words against slick skin. You’re already having trouble thinking straight.

You start all over again, trying to rush through it as quickly as possible, but you stutter as Sam fucks you shallowly with his tongue.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sam says, curling two long fingers into you.

Except it’s bad. In the short time you’ve been doing this, Sam has learned your sweet spots like nobody’s ever learned them before, and he’s not touching them now. This is barely a tease, compared to what you know he can do to you. It’s bad, and it’s going to get so much worse.

You start to stammer through the third prayer. You’re so wet — from the thrill of the setting, as much as what he’s doing with his tongue — you can hear the slick thrust of his fingers inside you, dirty and distracting.

When you pause for breath between “Mary” and “mother of God,” Sam hums low against your cunt, and you know he enjoys this, you know he gets off on it, but he lets out these noises that never fail to make you feel feverish, and now is no exception. It doesn’t feel chilly any more. By “amen,” you’re burning up.

“Three down,” Sam murmurs.

On the fourth “grace,” he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, and you make a high, squeaky, mortifyingly desperate sound. Your voice keeps breaking as you stumble through the next lines, until you end on a long, relieved groan.

“Good girl,” he croons. “Six more.”

“I can’t,” you hiss.

“You can. And you will.”

On “full,” Sam twists his knuckles, and you gasp, arching your back, squirming. He fucks you in the same rhythm as your words, dragging friction across your g-spot with every syllable, and when you try to speed up, rushing through it, you can’t even get to “sinners” without breaking off in a moan. He stops completely as you pant for breath, and as you mumble through the last lines, painfully slow, you’re rolling your hips, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, desperate for more.

“That’s five,” Sam says. “I’ll give you a second to catch your breath.”

With his free hand, he grabs one of your wrists, guiding your hand to the back of his head. His eyes flick up to you, watching hungrily, until you slide your fingers through the silky strands and tug lightly.

You sigh. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Hope not,” he says, smirking against the crease of your thigh. “I’m into some weird shit, but I like ‘em warm and breathing.”

“Ha fucking ha, Sam, that’s — fuck,” you choke, as he fits his mouth to your clit again, and this time he sucks lightly in time with the slow thrusts of his fingers. You forget what you’re saying, somewhere around “God,” and stumble to the end in bits and incoherent pieces.

“Six.” You realize you’ve got a death grip on his hair, all your muscles tensed-up and rigid with electricity that’s got nowhere else to go, but when you ease up, he pumps his fingers in deep and growls, “Harder.”

He adds a third finger, and it’s so fucking good, so fucking much, filling you with fizzing pressure, and it takes most of your willpower to stop yourself from going under.

You grit out, “HailMaryfullofgrace.” Lightning lances up your belly, and you squirm— “TheLordiswiththee.” — twist your fingers in Sam’s hair— “Blessedartthouamongwomen.” — muscles quaking, cunt clenching around perfectly curled fingers— “Blessedisthe. Fuck. Fruitofthywomb. Fuck — Jesus!” — tension surging and swelling — “Holy Mary, mother of God, prayforussinnersnow, fuck, Sam!” — you’re almost there, almost, and he stops, refusing to give you what you want as you gasp out, “And —at the— the hour of our death, amen.”

“Seven,” he says harshly, and you can feel him breathing hard, damp hot air teasing your slick swollen skin, and his mouth is so close to where you want it. He gives you a second and then: “Keep going.”

You babble out a few words at a time, and your voice is ragged and broken, but it must sound close enough to what he wants; he’s winding you up again, fingers crooking expertly against that sweet spot. The heel of his other hand digs into your lower belly, right over that point of white heat, and it’s so intense, suddenly, that everything goes sparkly and distant.

“Pray for us,” you groan, and he sucks, fast and hard. “Pray for us — us sinners —”

There’s this pressure, right there, right where his fingers are stoking a fire, and it’s blazing, and —

“Sam, I can’t. I can’t, I’m gonna—”

He’s not holding back, and you can’t either. You buck helplessly against the incredible suction of his mouth, holding him with both hands fisted in his hair as you bow up and cry out. All that pressure peaks, crashing down in wave after wave of relief, pulling you under like a rip tide as you come dripping-wet and messy.

It blinds you, for a moment. You’re out of your body for who knows how long, lit-up and paralyzed by the high-voltage shock of it.

When you come back to yourself, Sam is scooping you up and swapping places with you in one smooth movement, manhandling you so that you’re straddling him; he’s got his pants open just enough, can’t seem to wait any longer, and the breathless urgency is so unusual for him that your head spins.

You’re still clenching through the lingering quakes of your orgasm, trembling, boneless like a rag doll, and it’s not you sinking down on his cock so much as him pulling you, filling you up inch by inch as you squeeze and quiver around the thick length of him.

When he’s as deep as he can be, his arms wrapped around you and practically crushing you to his chest, you both pause and take a ragged gulp of air.

“What even was that?” you slur, bracing yourself with a hand against the wall and trying to adjust. He lets out a rough groan through gritted teeth.

“That is what I’ll be seeing every time I look at a confessional now,” he pants, starting to rock up into you. “Never gonna be able to walk into a church without getting hard.”

He wraps an arm around your ribs, and the heat of his splayed hand on your shoulder feels like it spans half your back. Your naked skin seems even more obscene as it brushes the stiff cloth of his suit, and you can feel your own wetness soaking the fabric in places. You shiver, roll your hips, and you can feel the way he reacts, shuddering under you.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes this a little too much,” you say, breathless.

“Who said anything about too much? No such thing.” He barks out a laugh, bucking up in a way that makes you moan. “I’ve been to heaven, and trust me when I say, this right here—” He twists his hips viciously to emphasize the word. “— this is so much better.”

“God, this is so —” you whimper. He fists a hand in your hair and bites your neck, and you jerk helplessly against him.

“God doesn’t care,” he growls. “God wasn’t listening to you just now.”

“That’s not —” You’re pretty sure he’s missing the point, but with the way your cunt is throbbing at every perfect thrust, you can’t remember what that point is; you can’t remember anything.

“God’s not going to answer those prayers,” he says hoarsely. “I’m the one who’s going to handcuff you and bend you over the hood of the car and fuck you until your legs give out.”

“Holy shit, Sam.” Your brain is shorting out.

“I’m going to make sure Dean sees you when you’re all strung-out and begging for it,” he promises. He jerks up with a vicious twist of his hips, and you grind down to meet him, every inch of your skin singing. “I’m going to hold a gun to your head while you ride me. I’m going to give you anything you want.”

“Please.” Your moan sounds more like a sob, and you can’t see straight anymore; it’s all going distant, until the only thing that feels real is the aching, pulsing heat of him inside you.

Sam claws at your back, dragging his open mouth up the side of your neck until he can snarl against your ear: “God doesn’t answer prayers, but I do.”

He surges up to meet you one last time. Your vision flashes bright white as you come, one exquisite pulse after another rolling through you, and it feels like a purer sort of ecstasy than any religious experience you’ve had in a church.

This is worth a little hellfire.

There is now a follow-up drabble here!

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #soulless sam #stus1kjamexchange

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youllallriseintheink · 2 years

Text

After the Ink

This is a story taking place in the Step Right Up AU. It’s going to explore Susie and Norman’s relationship, from how they met to how they reconciled post-ink.

Thank you to Bertrumstrousers for looking over this for me, and for starting this AU!

---

A strange sensation ripped through Susie’s body. She felt as though the flesh was being loosened from her bones, and yet it didn’t hurt in the slightest- it was like taking off a too-tight jacket. And then, it was over, and she was reborn.

Susie tumbled from the ink machine, managing to land on her feet. She felt herself over, making sure that the golden ink hadn’t ruined her scars- she needed those for her Half-Angel Half-Devil act. Once she was sure they were untouched, she couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t full of rage, jealousy, hatred and fear anymore. For the first time in months, she felt normal.

“Susie... how do you feel?” Henry asked. He was watching alongside Lacie, Joey, and Norman. Norman had volunteered to go through first, but Susie had felt that it was only right for it to be her. First one inked, first one save for Joey to be cured- and this time, it would be a transformation that she chose.

“Better,” Susie replied.

Henry smiled. “I think it works!”

“Oh, I know it does!”

Norman got up and eagerly headed for the machine’s entry nozzle, taking off his mannequin head in case it would jam the machine.

“Sure,” Henry said, “you can go next. It won’t take more than a couple days to get everyone through this thing.”

Norman waved the tentacles that made up his natural head in something resembling a nod, and crawled into the machine.

Susie was on the edge of her seat, waiting to see Norman emerge from the roaring ink machine. It was probably silly to be this nervous, right? Lacie had left to get Buddy, so it wasn’t as though she was in bated breath.

Norman came out head-first and fell onto his hands and knees, looking just as he had before his transformation, save for some new golden markings on his back and arms. He looked up at her.

“Norman!” Susie squealed. She ran over to hug him. Norman half-heartedly returned the gesture, and the two of them sat down to watch as a few more people went through the machine. It was a joyous occasion.

As they left, though, it quickly became obvious that something was bothering Norman. “Somethin’ on your mind, love?” Susie asked once they were alone in a car together.

“Nothing,” he said. His voice was so hoarse that the single word seemed painful for him to form.

He seemed distant over next few days, but Susie could mostly chalk that up to not wanting to strain his voice. Then, they saw Bertrum changing back into his true self. Lacie hadn’t hesitated to forgive him with love in her eyes- never mind the ears and fangs he’d kept from his beast form, never mind all the trouble he’d put the whole circus through. She would have kissed him if not for the worry of golden ink being contagious. Of course, Norman was overjoyed to see his friend again, but shortly afterwards, he asked Susie to meet him in private.

“I think,” he started, his voice still pretty painful-sounding. “I think I need a little time. To think... about us.”

Susie was stunned. She got out of the way and let Norman leave the cramped train car. Does he mean he’s thinking of breaking up with me?

The fact that they ate separately at dinner seemed to suggest so. Not that Susie didn’t have other people to talk to. In fact, Sammy seemed like the perfect person to talk to about this. She asked him to visit her in the observation car to talk later.

---

“I don’t get why you wanted to talk to me of all people,” Sammy admitted, “Just because I’ve managed a relationship with Joey and Jack doesn’t mean I know how I did it. But go ahead.”

“Well, honestly, I don’t trust anyone else to be blunt with me. And I get that I screwed up a lot while I was Alice. There’s just... gotta be a way to fix this.”

Unsure what else to do, Sammy nodded. He knew how important Norman was to Susie. She’d already told him the story of how they met.

---

Tonight was Susie’s first show, and she was killing it in practice. Everything- the outside noise, any performer she wasn’t syncing her motions with- had faded away. She was solely focused solely on keeping rythm to the music and on the bends and twists she was putting her body through. From the outside, it looked graceful and relatively easy, but a dancer knew how much strength it took.

She might have just been a background character for some of their little skits, but now that she’d gotten her foot in the door, it was only a matter of time before she figured out an act of her own and was taking to center stage.

After their practice, Susie emerged from the performance tent and wandered into the not-yet-fully-set-up fairgrounds to see where she could help. She caught eye of a man trying to rob Bertrum and nearly ran off to find help, but Bertrum caught the man by the shoulder. Must be nice being so big, Susie thought. Honestly, what kind of idiot would try to rob a giant, anyhow?

It wasn’t until that night that Susie gave it another thought. That was when she saw him again, eating dinner with Bertrum. And in the morning, Bertrum made the announcement.

“Everyone, we have a new member. Meet Norman Polk.” Norman stepped up and gave everyone a wave. Susie finally gave him a good look over. He was a big man- tall, had a fair amount of muscle on him- but one could have missed that when he was next to Bertrum and barely face-level with his chest. The gruesome scarring on half his face Susie had seen the previous night- it was like half of his face had been melted like candle wax. This was a rough, dangerous person with a opportunistic glimpse in his eye, and Susie wondered why Bertrum was letting a thief amongst them.

The worst part of was, as Susie found out, that Norman would be sleeping in the same bunk car as her. They made eye contact as he was settling in, and seeing how cold she looked, Norman turned away.

“So, what are you doing here?” Susie asked. “I saw what you did yesterday.”

Norman was still turned away from her. If he was the slightest bit disturbed by Susie’s attitude, he didn’t show it. “Just labour for now. But Bertrum said that he’d give me an act if I found one I’m good at.”

That made Susie prickle up. He had no skills. There had been no audition, like Susie had gone through. And yet, he was here. “Well, don’t get your hopes up. Most of the performers here have been practicing for years.”

Norman ignored her entirely.

Susie, figuring that the conversation was over, looked under her bed. Her little chest of belongings was untouched. Good- there was a lot of things in there she didn’t want stolen, and a few, like the golden necklace given to her by her mom, that a thief might take interest in.

He’s going to figure out where all the good stuff is and make a run for it before this train is on its way again. I can just feel it.

They didn’t speak again until a few nights later, when the train was once again on its way to a new destination. Norman was, to Susie’s surprise, still there. Still there, and apparently fast friends with Bertrum.

“So, what did make you want to join us?” Susie asked one night.

Norman shrugged. “Needed a place to stay.”

“Does that mean you’ll leave us the second you’ve saved enough money to?”

“No. I like it here. The people are nice, and no one looks at me weird because of the scars.” Susie could have almost forgotten about the scars, honestly. Amongst circus folk with various abnormalities, they barely stuck out at all. “You know, I’m not the first person Bertrum’s adopted, either. It’s a beautiful thing he’s doing.”

“It is. You know, I’ve always wanted to get closer to him. But he’s a little intimidating.”

“Really? Well, he and this Lacie gal are going to practice some whip tricks at the next stop and they’re letting me join them. I could ask them if they’d mind your company as well.”

Susie smiled. “I’d love that.”

The two ended up wandering the town together at the next stop as well- Susie hadn’t wanted to go through a strange place on her own, and Norman was available to take her.

“Thanks for agreeing to this. You know, I’m really enjoying seeing the sights of the United States. I’m really new to the circus, too, and I basically lived in one place my whole life before- oh my God, look at those!”

Suddenly, a knife store had captured 100% of Susie’s attention.

Norman chuckled. “You’re into knives, huh? You know, my parents were butchers. I know a whole lot about knives.”

“Yours, too?”

“Yeah. I mean, I left my hometown pretty young, but one doesn’t just forget. I used to have a whole collection of these things.”

“Really? Well, I was working as a butcher until a couple weeks ago! Wanna see how rusty you are? I bet I could name more of them than you can.”

Norman smiled back at her. “Loser has to buy the winner a knife.”

In the end, Norman had to buy Susie a knife. He bought one for himself, too, and they brought them to the stunts session with Bertrum and Lacie. Various objects were whipped. While all four of them took turns with it, it was very clearly Bertrum and Lacie’s thing. It was the act Bertrum was working towards, after all. And Bertrum really was less intimidating than Susie had imagined.

After they’d been at it for a while, Norman spoke up. "Hey, we don’t have a knife-thrower yet, do we?”

“We do not,” Bertrum said.

Norman took out his knife and threw it at a nearby tree. It hit, but didn’t sink in and clattered to the ground. “Okay, well, maybe not right away, but once I get good at it, would you like one?”

“Well, I don’t see why not!”

---

“That was the moment I fell for him. I’d been too nervous to ask about working towards my own act, or talking to Bertrum much at all, but Norman just does what he wants. Like he doens’t feel that hesitation. And he was nice to me. And he’s good at making the best of bad situations.” Susie thought to Norman figuring out that he could use almost anything as a head and fitting himself with a projector to play movies, and that mannequin head so he could emote. Fate told him to be a spotlight, but he didn’t listen.

Susie knew that the story didn’t paint her in the best of lights, but Sammy was nodding in understanding. “So, what do think made him like you?” he asked. “That might clue us in to whether he’s thinking of breaking up with you.”

“I think it built over time as I recovered from the bad first impression, especially once I became his assistant for the knife-throwing act. He saw me welcome other members of the troupe and heard me talk about wanting to inspire little girls with my dancing, and it just happened. I kind of learned from my experience with him to be good to the newbies. And it was hard being nice to people as they got beloved acts while I was stuck in the background, but...”

“Yeah, I’m gonna call bullshit. I mean, you were nice enough to me, but I saw the way you treated Allison. Hell, you were jealous of a homeless kid because he got Bertrum’s attention.”

“Well, I-” That’s when Susie realized it: Sammy was new. He’d been in the circus for at most a year before Susie had transformed, and before her transformation, she’d mostly been invisible to anyone she wasn’t friends with. So he’d only seen how she’d acted as the half-angel half-devil... and that hadn’t been the greatest of impressions. “It was the ink. But I can see why that would change the way you look at me.”

---

On the other side of the train, Lacie heard a knock at her door and answered it to find Norman.

“Can we talk?” Norman asked. His voice was still pretty hoarse, but it was good enough for a few painless sentences now. “About how you forgave him.” Norman had picked up the tic of communicating in few words.

“Of course,” Lacie said. She went back in to her and Bertrum’s car to get a pen and a pad of paper to make it easier for Norman. “What’s on your mind?”

How did you forgive Bertrum? Norman wrote. I want to forgive Susie. But the fact that she supported Bertrum right to the end, even after he turned Buddy against his will is weighing on me. I don’t understand how she could be so blind.

Lacie put an arm around him. “Well, I understand that it’s not all his fault. Bertrum wasn’t in his right mind, and neither was anyone who was inked. And for the record, you weren’t, either.”

“I wasn’t?” Norman said aloud. Emotional shock tended to make him forget that his vocal chords weren’t quite back yet.

Lacie nodded. “You were just as single-minded as her. Your biggest concern for most of your time as a tentacle-headed ink beast was that no one- and especially not Susie- would know how fucking terrified you were of the way things were going. That was your one thing. And her one thing was convincing herself that the transformation that was forced upon her was a good thing.”

And it couldn’t be a good thing if she didn’t wish it on others, or if it didn’t make her special. Norman wrote. And the ink’s influence does get stronger over time, and she was the first.

He remembered her becoming more insistent over time that this was the best thing that had ever happened to her, until she was trying to convince others- both the untransformed and those who’d had transformation forced on them. It had seemed like the height of cruelty for her to tell these people who were mourning their old bodies that they ought to be grateful, but he supposed that she was only trying to convince herself. And Norman hadn’t exactly been himself while inked, either.

You’re right. And even through all of that, we still didn’t want to hurt each other.

---

It had been the circus’ darkest hour. An icy fear had hung in the air for days. Ink creatures were waking up to the fact that their minds were fragmenting, and that the same could be said of their ringmaster.

When Bertrum transformed himself into a giant flaming lion with the ink machine, some ran away to hide while others stepped in to try and bring it under control. There was only one- Susie- who was still on his side.

When Norman had run into the tent in which the battle was taking place, Susie was on Bertrum’s back, wrestling with Lacie. By then, Norman knew which side she was taking, but he couldn’t let that distract him. He got ready to throw one of his kinves, aiming to hit Bertrum on the shoulder as he rampaged around. But he couldn’t.

It had been one of his knives that had started this. He’d hit Susie after the lights had suddenly gone out during an act, and they’d used the ink machine to save her life. And even though she was an ink creature now and it wouldn’t meaningfully harm her, he just couldn’t bring himself to risk hitting her again.

It turned out that that was the right move. Lacie shoved Susie off of Bertrum’s back, and she fell past his shoulder and towards the ground. Norman ran to catch her, but then they were immediately back to fighting.

Susie punched him in his mannequin head, bruising the tentacles that were holding it in place. “Why won’t you see that this is for the best!?”

Norman caught her arm and threw her to the side, but she got right back up and came after him again.

“We’re going to be a big, inky family, and it’s going to be GREAT! Why can’t you see that!?”

The two tussled for a while. Norman was holding back- he only wanted to defend himself, not hurt her- but he was still leaving prints in her face and arms. They’d both need a damage-repairing trip through the ink machine when this was over.

And then, Susie stopped dead. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” she whimpered. “Everything’s gone so wrong...”

Norman’s mind wasn’t what it had been, either, at that point. In the middle of the tent, with the lion rampaging around them, he hugged her tight. The words, “Let’s get you to safety,” sounded through his speaker. He escorted her out of the tent before returning to help fight Bertrum.

---

The two of them didn’t have to arrange to meet that night- they bunked together, after all. The second they were alone together that night, Norman passed her a letter. This wasn’t something that could be communicated in the two or three pain-free sentences he was capable of.

Hey,

We both acted badly while we were on ink. I probably don’t have to tell you now that I wasn’t fond of beign transformed, and that’s why I took the speaker and the mannequin head at the first chance I got. I’m sorry for lying to you. I think we both should have just admitted that it was a terrible situation instead of trying to convince ourselves otherwise.

Our minds aren’t frayed to bits anymore, and I know that you’re a kind person when you’re not under the ink’s influence. Let’s just try to forget about all of this and start anew. I love you and I would hate to let the people we were while inked put an end to that.

Once Susie had finished reading the note, she gave Norman a hug. Even though she was still a half-angel half-devil, she was warm now. It didn’t feel like hugging a wax statue anymore. Frankly, she appreciated the lack of gooey ink and hot electrical wires on his body as well. “Thank you,” she said.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Step Right Up #AUs #norman polk #susie campbell #my fanfiction #norman x susie

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

Migraine

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x reader, platonic Sam x Reader

Summary: reader is scared to let the boys in and tell them about the chronic migraines she suffers from, after a hunt the truth comes out and you're shocked with how they respond

Warnings: smut, no a too whole lot, two paragraphs on 3000 words, nothing too triggering I think, medicine, as always, I might have missed something read at your o w n risk

A/N: It might be a little long, tbh I dont know what a long/short fic looks like but it's def one I could've split and didn't. I really enjoyed writing this one, am having a little bit of a block after writing six fics in a day. shout out to my first smut in at least five years.

You had been hunting with Sam and Dean for a couple of months, finally feeling like you had earned your place. You didn't feel comfortable letting them know your weaknesses, which is why you didn't tell them you had migraines. You were able to cover for the most part, hiding it from the family you've come to know quite well. Most of the time. Sometimes you just couldn't, the pain overbearing and you just had to stay in bed all day, "It's just cramps." You lied to the boys, who assumed that you were covering your face and curled up like a child because of your embarrassment and pain. Sooner or later they will find out, and that's just what happened on this witch hunt.

You were the first one back into the motel, just wanting to lie down, Sam and Dean following suit. Dean slammed the door, causing you to jump with a jolt of pain to your head, reminding you of the already particularly bad headache you had. Thank god you'd be home soon. You went into the bathroom, wanting to shower after a long day of hunting the witch down, turning the lights off as you shut the door, you sighed, the pain growing. You turned the shower on, making it just a little warm, undressing and sitting down, putting your knees close to yourself, held together by your crossed arms with your head on your knees just enjoying the relief the water brings you.

You must've lost track of time because the next thing you hear is Dean, pounding on the bathroom door, basically screaming, "Y/n, damn, we want hot water!" You groaned, "Fuck off Dean! I'll be out in a minute," you shouted, much harsher than you wanted. You heard Dean grumble but couldn't understand it. Ignoring him, you finished washing your body, head already hurting bad enough it was too much to have to stand and wash, worried you might puke if you moved around more than you needed.

You came out of the shower, laying on the bed, closing your eyes, waiting to leave when you heard Sam speak up. "Did you get hurt and not tell us?" You rolled your eyes, then rose up and looked at Sam. "What?" You were confused, why would you not tell them if you got hurt? You looked over your body for any marks as Dean spoke, "Why else would you take so damn long?" You glared at him, "Sorry, I guess I won't enjoy my showers anymore." You laid back down, Dean looked at you with a pang of guilt you didn't see. He was just, in his own way, trying to check on you.

When both Sam and Dean had showered, you packed up your stuff, not caring if you left anything behind, you led out the door, crawling into the backseat of the impala. As you started rolling out, you realized it was going to be a long trip when the first wave of nausea hit you. Leaning into the window, enjoying the cold, you closed your eyes, knowing sleep would not come.

About two hours into the trip back to the bunker, after not saying a single word, you finally spoke up. "Dean," he looked at you through the rearview mirror, "pull the car over, Sam you gotta let me out." Dean was a little shocked, "What," he said quickly. "Pull the car over, before I hurl in your baby." At that, the car near immediately stopped, Sam quickly allowing you to get out. Almost as soon as your foot hit the ground, before you were even all the way out of the car, vomit spewed from your mouth. Sam was rubbing your back, not sure why you were sick, as you'd never gotten car sick.

Dean got out of the car, circling it to come to your side, worry written all over his face. Dean replaced Sam, Dean whispering something to him that you couldn't hear over the splashing on the road. You heard the car door shut, and felt Dean pull your hair back. Once you were done, Dean, helping you raise up, asked, "What's going on?" You looked at him, worry still plastered on his face.

"Nothing, I just got car sick," still feeling like you could throw up, you took a deep breath. The pain of your headache intensified by the fit. Dean laughed a little, "You've never gotten car sick in your life," shaking his head and adding, "I mean," down to a whisper, "are you pregnant?" You had to laugh a little, regretting as pain soared through your head, "No, Dean, why would you even ask that?"

"Well, in the same night you take an hour longer showering than you usually do and vomit on the side of the road." He smirked, reminiscing, "I mean after our encounter a couple of months ago-" You had to interrupt him, "We fucked once, I also recall telling you I was on birth control." Dean chuckled, "What can I say? I've got strong swimmers." Smug son of a bitch. "I'm not, can we please just go home? I got car sick, it happens."

Dean got very serious, "Not until you tell me what's going on, I'm worried now." Silently panicking, afraid that if you told them you had chronic migraines they'd think you couldn't go on hunts and you'd be alone again, but really not wanting him to worry, you finally spoke up, "It's just a migraine." Dean's face contorted in confusion, "A migraine? Since when do you get migraines?" You looked away from him, toward the trees lining the side of the road, "They're chronic, I've had them for years." Deans face softened, he reached for his passenger door and opened it for you, allowing you to crawl in.

"You all right?" Sam spoke from the backseat, thankful you didn't have to crawl back there again. You just nodded, bringing your knees to your chest and lying back against the window with your eyes closed. Dean started the car and after a few minutes he couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Why didn't you just tell us?" Sam didn't say anything, also wanting to know why this was such a big deal for you to keep a secret.

You took a sharp breath in, not moving a muscle, not even looking at them, "I was afraid you'd tell me I couldn't hunt with you guys anymore." Dean looks at sam through the rearview, the guilt on Sams face matching his own, "We would never-" Dean gripped the wheel a little tighter, "We would have worked around them, so you can be home when they're this bad. It wouldn't be puking on the side of the road horrible." Dean shook his head, reaching across to you to rub your arm, you looked at him, and he jerked his head in a come here motion. You did as you were told, starting to scoot over, he redirected your movements so your head was in his lap. His fingers running through your hair, his hand finding the back of your neck apply just a tiny bit of pressure right at the base of your skull, rubbing up and down softly, alleviating some of the pain, somehow letting you sleep the remaining trip.

When you woke up Sam was already out of the car, Dean opening your door you sleepily sat at the edge of the seat, head throbbing. Putting your hand on your forehead, elbow on the back of his bench seat, eyes still closed, you felt Dean pull your hands to his neck. "No," you jerked back, eyes filled with tears at how bad the morning light was making you feel, "I can walk." Dean huffed, "Shut up and let me carry you." You resigned and put your arms around his neck, laying your head in the crook of his neck, loving how he smelled.

You noticed as he carried you in, every single light that could be out, was. Sam must've done that for you. Opening the door to his room, you started to protest, "Shhh," he gently laid you on the bed and pulled the covers up for you, "just let me." Dean left the room, you're not sure where, but there was a pang of sadness in your chest, wanting to be near him. He came back and placed a cool rag on the back of your neck and one on your forehead, he touched your lips, slowly dragging his thumb over your lips, speaking softly, "Open up, let this pill dissolve on your tongue okay? It might be a little nasty, but it'll help." You took the pill, as it started to dissolve you scrunched up your face at the nasty taste, causing Dean to chuckle.

Dean headed to he door, it was now or never, "Will-" you started and your voice broke a little, you're not sure out of embarrassment or pain, "will you stay?" Dean smiled at you, coming to the side of the bed, crawling under the covers with you, "As long as you want me." You rolled over to him, laying your head on his chest as he put his arm around you. He started playing with your hair, running his fingers up and down your arm.

You wanted to be able to properly enjoy this, but your head hurt so bad. After about fifteen minutes you couldn't help but cry, silently, wanting the headache to go away. Dean noticed, feeling his damp shirt, he didn't say anything, just kissed your head. "They're not normally this bad," you sniffled, "I can usually push through them." Dean started rubbing your back, knowing how nervous you were to tell them, not really understanding why you'd believe they would say you couldn't hunt with them. "Y/n," he contemplated on what to say.

"You don't have to hide anything from us, you don't have to push through them, if you're in pain it's okay, we all have our faults, you don't ever have to be afraid that we'd tell you to leave. You're our family now, we need you. I need you." Your heart skipped a beat, did he really need you? In what way does he need you? "What do you mean?" Dean had to admit it, had to come clean, now or never.

"I don't mean just hunts," you looked up at him, shocked, tear stained eyes which broke his heart. He gently cupped your face, leaning forward and bringing his lips to yours, you instantly responded, pressing into the kiss, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, he pulled back, "God you taste better than ever." You laughed, laying your head back down, "Okay, I understand." He couldn't do chick flic, it was hard enough for him to say he needed you, but he needed you to know.

Sam came in, replacing your rags, "You want some more medicine?" You nodded, pushing your hand on Dean's chest so he knew he couldn't get up. "Sammy, she'd love that but doesn't want me to get up." Sam laughed, your cheeks flushing, "No problem, Y/n." Dean placed his hand on yours, "I feel like a bath might help, I can run you one." You shrugged, "lotta work." Dean copied your shrug, "Not really, just gotta start the water and put the bubbles in." You instantly responded, talking over him, "Not you, me," you pause and lifted your head to looked at him, eyebrow cocked, "bubbles? I don't have bubbles?" Dean laughed heartily, "Not you, me. My bubbles and my work, I'll do it all, nothing I ain't seen before." He winked at you, smug bastard. You laid your head back down on his chest, shrugging again.

Sam came back, Dean lifting his hand up to take the medicine from Sam as you lifted yourself up and grabbed the cup from him, "It's coffee, it might help." You couldn't turn to face him, didn't want to, "Thank you so much." Sam smiled, but you couldn't see, "Of course, anything." You heard the door close softly as you took your place back on Dean, resting the cup on his chest.

After a few minutes after you had taken the medicine, Dean slid from underneath you, taking the coffee cup, causing you to groan in displeasure. Dean chuckled, and headed toward the bathroom. Once in there he lit a singular candle, started the water, and put the bubbles in. Coming back to you he wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you move your limbs to where they needed to be.

He sat you down on the bathroom sink, while he took his shirt off you removed your own. He reached behind you, unclasping your bra and pulling it off you. Dean wanted to tell you how gorgeous you were, wanted to touch you, but he knew you were more than not up for it. He knows when to be respectful and when to be downright filthy. You slid off the counter, you pushed your pants down, just enough so they could effortlessly fall off of you.

Dean stepped into the tub first, holding his hand out to you. You happily took it, just wanting to lie back down. Dean put your back to him, wrapping an arm around you he slunk to the ground, water splashing lightly. He pulled you back to him, allowing you to lay your head back on him. His fingers found their way to your scalp, applying a small amount of pressure, taking some of your pain. You had no idea that the Dean Winchester could be this, soft.

You just laid there with Dean, letting the water sooth you, letting Dean make this better. You couldn't think, just lay. You don't know how long you laid there, laid in complete silence with Dean taking care of you. "Do you want me to touch you?" Dean spoke, barely loud enough that you could hear him, you hummed, wordlessly asking what he meant. "I did some research while we were in the bed, lots of women have said that masturbating can seriously help." Still speaking softly, making sure that you weren't going to get overstimulated. You thought for a minute, all the times that you had touched yourself in hopes for the pain to lessen-all the times it worked. "Mhmm." Dean just continued rubbing your scalp, "Say it." A twinge of need pooled inside you, "Touch me Dean, I want it."

Dean needed no further encouragement, he needed to know this is what you wanted, needed you to admit it. He wasted no time, slowly working his hands to your nipples, fingers teasing, tickling their way to touch you. He twirled your nipples between his thumb and index finer, gently pulling them up, eliciting a whimper from you. "Don't worry good girl, I'm gonna make you feel better." Deans hands trailed to your waist, pulling you up a couple of inches, giving him better access.

Dean's right hand tiptoed to your clit, gently rubbing your bundle of nerves, rubbing circles until your hips bucked forward, wanting more. Dean's left hand moving to your lower stomach, resting lazily. You opened your eyes and stared into his eyes, a soft moan falling from your lips, "More." Dean smirked, quickly raising his left hand to push your head back, nonverbally communicating for you to rest, just enjoy this, then returning his hand to it's home.

Dean's thick fingers slid inside you with a thrilling stretch, you gasped, forgetting how good he filled you up. "Good girl, I know you can take it," Dean started to pump his fingers slowly, curling them upwards to hit just the right spot. "Mmmm," you hummed, almost singing, "please." Dean sped up, his fingers hitting your g-spot, palm rubbing your clit, you clenched tightly around him, slowing him down but making him damn near growl. You bucked your hips forward, panting, squeezing his wrist with one hand and grabbing the side of the tub with the other. "Gonna make you cum," Dean nipped your earlobe, a whimper. "Gonna show you that you need me," moved to your neck, a moan. "Gonna remind you what it feels like to gush around me," another nibble, another kiss. A desperate desire pooled in your belly, pussy clenching, clit throbbing. "You gonna cum for me? Cum on my fingers like a good girl?" Dean pressed his left hand down, the pressure sending you over the edge, you spasmed around his fingers, legs shaking, juices leaking out of you and into the tub. He let you ride it out, until your legs had calmed and you had stopped pulsating around his fingers. He moved his hands back to your scalp, continuing the previous scalp massage.

You tried to catch your breath, his thick cock resting between your legs, you could almost see it throb. You reached in-between your legs, starting to pump his cock but he moved your hand. "No," he kissed your lips, then your forehead, "once you're feeling better we can discuss it." You moved your hand to rest on his thigh, "can we just lay here a minute?" He hummed in approval, letting you close your eyes and enjoy the moment of bliss.

After awhile, you had almost fallen asleep, Dean started to get up, slowly dragging himself out of the tub careful not to disturb you too much. Once Dean had found the towel in the under lit room he reached his hand to you, helping you stand up. You stepped out of the tub, reaching for the towel but he pulls it just out of your reach. Dean sighs, "You may feel a little better but I still want to take care of you," starting to pat you dry, making sure to get the dripping tips of your beautiful hair, "I want to, please let me." You let him finish drying you off, let him slip his own shirt and boxers on you, wondering when he'd have gotten them. You even let him carry you back to his bed. Once he laid down, you were immediately beside him, filling the perfect spot next to him. "Sleep." He commanded, it was not a suggestion, and you did.

When you woke up, your back was facing Dean, his chest pressed to you, arm wrapped tightly around you like you'd run. You turned a little to look at his sleeping form, surprised when his eyes fluttered open, "Mornin', any better?" You turned towards him, placing your leg between his, your own arm underneath his and wrapped around him, "Manageable." You laid there, for how long you weren't sure. Eventually Dean spoke up, "We should go get some breakfast." You nodded, reluctantly rolling to the side of his bed, swinging your legs over.

You and Dean walked to the kitchen, Sam already cooking, hearing you cross the threshold into the kitchen he spun around. Upon realizing you guys had gotten up he immediately grabbed the coffee pot and filled up the cup sitting next to a few pills on the counter and creamer. You gently chuckled, "What a saint," you slapped Deans arm. "I told you," Dean started as you sat down and he moved to get his own cup of coffee, "we could've helped you manage."

You started fiddling your thumbs, not able to look at the boys, "I know-sigh-I was afraid, I'm sorry, I know it's dumb but-" looking to Dean, "I was afraid I'd be too much, lose the family I've come to love. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." Sam turned to you, pausing from the breakfast. "It's not dumb, Y/n. If you're hurting, if you're struggling, if you're afraid, we face it together, all three of us. Because you're right, we're family, and you belong here. Your problems are ours." Dean beside you now, hand placed on your back, thumb drawing small figure eight's, "We can help you, face anything this hellhole throws at us, stick together and say fuck it together," a kiss placed on your lips, pressing into you with loving force, "you just have to let me."

#supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean Winchester x you #dean smut #dean fluff #dean Winchester smut #dean Winchester fluff #dean winchester fluff #sam x y/n #sam x reader #sam x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader

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johnsbleu · 2 years

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 120

warnings: none! hmh masterlist A/N: I’m sorry about my tagging lately. I don’t know what’s going on with it. Tumblr is being wack, of course. So, I’m sorry if you’re not being tagged or if you’re getting the notification weeks later. It’s just tumblr being tumblr, i guess.

It’s a beautiful day today, and you’re sitting in a lawn chair and watching John as he trims the hedges around the patio. John bought some new plants to compliment the gorgeous tulips, and he also got some new mulch for the garden. You were helping him plant some flowers in pots, but you stopped to take a little break since your back hurts.

The yard has always been gorgeous and well tended to, but since you’ve moved in, John has dismissed the lawn company. He always said he didn’t have the time and energy to do the yard work himself since he was usually helping Helen when she was sick, and when he moved back home after everything happened, he hired them again. Now that you live here and love working in the yard, he’s dismissed them again. The yard is large and would take forever to mow, but you surprised John with a riding lawn mower earlier this month, and you love to make fun of him when you see him riding around the yard on it.

“It’s so beautiful today,” you say, tilting your head back in the sun, then you look at John as he nods his head. You smile when you see a little bit of dirt on his forehead from where he’s tried to wipe away the sweat, and you get up to walk over to him. You kneel down and use your thumb to wipe away the dirt, then you smile at him, “I’ll go get you something to drink.”

John smiles, “Thanks, peach.”

You stand up to walk inside, then you look back at John as he digs a hole for the next plant. You open the door and head to the kitchen to pour some water into a cup for John, and you wince a little when you feel a pain in your stomach. Pushing it aside, you head back outside to John, then you sit down and take a sip of his water before you hand it to him.

“You okay?” he asks as he sits down next to you, and you nod. “Are you sure?”

“Just had a little pain in my stomach,” you say, then you look up at John, “I’m okay.”

John looks at you in concern, “Do we need to go to the hospital? We can go right now.”

“It was just a cramp, baby. Probably just some gas or something. I’m okay.” you reach over and cup his face in your hands, then you kiss him, “I love my protective husband.”

“I love my wife.” he whispers, then he leans over to kiss you again, “If we need to go to the hospital, just let me know.”

You nod your head as you sit back in your chair, then you take the water from John and drink the rest. You place your hand on your belly and smile when John leans down to kiss it, then you watch as he walks back over to finish planting the rest of the flowers.

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back in the sun and smile to yourself. You’re so happy that the weather has been so nice lately, and there hasn’t been a day this week where you haven’t spent most of it outside.

John looks over his shoulder when he hears a car coming up the driveway, then he stands up, “That’s Jerry -- the guy to fix the pool.”

“We’re swimming tonight.” you say, and John nods as he walks over to greet Jerry. You put your hand up to block the sun as they walk past, then you smile when John winks at you.

Groaning a little, you get up from the chair and walk through the house to the backyard, and you smile when you see John standing near the pool as he talks with Jerry. You smile as you lean over the railing on the patio and look at John, then you look around the backyard, taking in the gorgeous view of colorful flowers and even John’s sweet little garden that he’s so proud of.

“I would say you can probably swim by tonight. Should be good by 5, just gotta let it cycle for a few hours.” Jerry says, and John looks over at you and smiles. “I can leave you a little test kit so you can test the water.”

“So, is the filter just broken or something? We use this pool all year round, but we only noticed how green it had gotten last week.” John says, letting out a small laugh, “My wife wanted to swim the other night, and we came out to find it like this.”

Jerry nods, “Every now and again, parts break on these things.”

“Well, good thing there’s guys like you around to fix it,” you say, and Jerry lets out a small laugh.

“Sorry it took us so long to get out here. Busy time of the year.” Jerry says, then he excuses himself so he can get his tools from his truck.

John walks over to you with his hands in his pockets, then he stands in front of you and smiles when you lean over the railing to kiss him several times. He takes his hands out of his pockets to pull himself up closer to you, and you laugh against his lips when he crawls over the railing to hug you.

“The stairs are right there.”

“I was being romantic, peach.” he laughs, then he smothers your face with kisses. “Mm, mm, mm!”

You lean back and smile at John, “You’re laying it on thick today.”

“I always do.”

“Yeah, true.” you laugh as you hug him, then you look over his shoulder when Jerry comes back into the backyard. “I think I’m gonna go lay down for a bit.”

John nods as he rubs your back, “If you feel that pain again, let me know. I’ll rush up to get you and we can leave.”

“I will, dad.” you smile as he laughs, then you lean up to kiss him before you walk over to the door.

“Hey,” John calls out and you look over your shoulder at him, “I love you more than anything.”

You let out a small laugh as you look at him smiling proudly since he really is being over the top affectionate today, “I love you too.”

Mill Neck always has great festivals every season, and you’re super excited to be able to actually go to the summer festival this year. The town square is packed with craft booths and food trucks, and John is practically eating everything in sight. He smiles as he walks over to you with a gyro, then he holds it up so you can take a bite.

“My goodness, look at you!” your mom smiles as she walks over, then she pushes past you and reaches out to hug John as you laugh, “So handsome!”

You playfully roll your eyes when your mom looks at you, “Sure, I’m just lugging around a baby, but let’s all comment on how handsome John is.”

“I’m teasing! You look beautiful, sweetheart.” your mom smiles, then she kisses your cheek, “I see John is already eating his way through the festival.”

John nods with his mouth full, then he hands his lemonade to you, which you decline since it’ll give you heartburn, “I’ve been working in the yard all morning. Worked up an appetite.”

“We got the yard all done, so we’re ready for our pool party tonight!” you smile as you look over your mom’s shoulder at Jimmy and Tess, then you lean down and lift up Finn, kissing his cheek over and over as he giggles, “Oh, got a little ketchup with that one.”

Tess holds up the last of her corndog for Finn, and he leans over so she can hold him, “We still on for our pool party?”

“Of course.” John nods, then he cracks up a bottle of water, “Gonna eat my weight in festival food first though.”

You laugh as you look at him, “I sure would love some mini donuts.”

“Then I’ll go get you some.” John smiles, handing the bottle of water to you before he walks away with Jimmy and your dad.

“How’s he holdin’ up?” your mom asks, and you laugh. “Still feeling nervous?”

You nod, “We both are. It’s getting so much closer, and we’re really starting to realize that it won’t just be us anymore. I had a little bit of a cry about it last night if I’m being honest -- still feel a little sad actually.”

“Why’s that?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you walk with your mom through the festival, “John and I have only been together for almost two years, so I think there’s this part of me that just feels like…I don’t know, I feel like it’s stupid, so I don’t want to say it.”

“I always taught you to talk about your feelings, didn’t I?” she says, and you nod your head. “So, talk about them.”

“There’s this part of me that worries that once the baby is here, John will just want to me fuck off or something.” you admit, then you let out a small laugh, “I know how stupid it sounds, trust me, but it’s just the way I’m feeling.”

Your mom wraps her arm around your shoulder and smiles at you, “It’s your feelings, so they’re not stupid.”

“I never realized how selfish I am when it comes to John until now. I don’t want to share him with anyone else. Of course I’m beyond excited to see him as a dad, and I’d never regret having this baby. I already love her to bits, and I’d do anything in this world for her. I just…don’t want John to stop caring about me. I don’t want to lose my best friend.” you look down as you grow sad, but you hear John’s laugh and it causes you to look up at him tossing Finn in the air. A smile spreads across your face when you see John kissing Finn’s cheek, and you give him a small wave when he looks over at you.

“I don’t think you’re selfish, sweetheart. It’ll be a change, it always is when you bring a new member into the house, but…” your mom looks over at John, then she looks back at you with tears in her eyes as you laugh, “I don’t think you ever need to worry about that man not caring about you. I know I’ve told you time and time again, but he is absolutely crazy about you. He still tells me how lucky he is to have you. Hell, he just told me the other night how happy he is to have found you. He just says these things, mind you. He’ll just randomly mention how lucky he is.”

You laugh as you wipe away the tear on your cheek, “He’s corny.”

“He’s in love.” your mom says, reaching over to cup your face, “And I think having this baby is only making him fall even harder for you.”

You smile as you continue walking with your mom, and you watch John as he playfully runs away from Finn chasing him. You look over your shoulder as he runs past, then you laugh when you hear him sneaking up behind you.

“I probably shouldn’t scare you,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Might accidentally push the baby out if I do.”

You laugh as you tilt your head back to look at him, “I’m not that far along.”

“You okay? I saw you talking to your mom.” he whispers in your ear, then he kisses your temple, “I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, though I’m sure you don’t always want to just talk to your husband.”

Tilting your head back, you smile at him, “You’re not just my husband, babe. You’re my best friend.”

The two of you start to laugh loudly since it was fairly corny, and you playfully shove John’s shoulder. His corniness is really rubbing off on you and he knows it.

“It’s true!” you laugh when he walks back over to you and reaches for your hand. “You are my best friend, you know?”

“You’re mine.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You’re okay?”

You nod as you look up at John, “I am, just being a silly pregnant woman!”

“Well,” John laughs as he nods, then he smiles at you, “I love you.”

“I love you.” you smile, tilting your head back to get another kiss from him.

After the festival, there’s going to be fireworks, but since that isn’t happening until dusk, you’re having a little pool party with your family. The front lawn will have a perfect view of the fireworks since they’re set off right across the lake, so you’re all just hanging around until then.

Finn is wading around the pool in a little floatie with Jimmy and Tess, and your mom and dad are sitting on the patio furniture watching everyone and chatting.

John is sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, and you place your hand on his shoulder to help as you sit down next to him. He looks over at you and smiles when he sees you wearing a black swimsuit, and you immediately rest back on your hands when he leans over to kiss your bump.

“Just obsessed.” you laugh, and John nods his head. “I get it. I am too.”

John laughs, then he hops in the pool and stands between your legs, leaning closer to your belly so he can kiss it, “Hey, bug. I hope you’re okay in there.”

“I think she’s pretty good! She ate some good food today, and she’s going to have an amazing smoothie in a bit.” you say, cocking up your eyebrow as John laughs. “I mean, you’ve made them for months now, you can’t just stop.”

“Very true.” John says, then he flinches and puts his hands up when water is splashed at him. He turns around and smiles when Finn giggles and kicks his legs, and John disappears under the water so he can pop out and scare Finn.

You smile when Finn squeals loudly and kicks his legs, and you slip into the pool to help take some pressure off your spine. You float on your back as you look up at the sky to see a few clouds still lingering, then you smile when you feel John putting his arms under you so he can hold you.

“How’s your back?”

“Doesn’t hurt so much right now since I’m in the pool, but I wouldn’t push you away if you wanted to help hold my belly later.”

John nods as he sways you back and forth in the water, “Of course.”

You tilt your head back to get your hair wet, then you look up at John and laugh when you see him staring at your boobs, “My boobs are really popping today.”

“I sure don’t mind,” he laughs, then he leans down to kiss you before walking around the pool with you in his arms.

Laughter is filling the backyard as Jimmy and Tess splash one another, and you smile when you look over at your dad holding your mom’s hand and talking to John. You look up at John for a moment before you get down so you can swim with Finn, then you look over at John again as he leans over the side of the pool to continue talking to your parents.

Your heart always bursts with happiness when you see how well John gets along with your parents. It’s really sweet how John cares about them. Of course he cares about you, but he genuinely just loves your family as well and you know how much it means to him that they’ve really accepted him. The fact that he feels comfortable enough to take his shirt off and allow people to see his scars is huge, and it means a lot to you that no one even bats an eye. They all just love him.

John was always worried that your dad wouldn’t like him since usually dads are so tough on their son-in-laws, but Dan loves John and Jimmy, and they all hang out quite a bit. They have cute little golf days, and you always tease John -- lovingly -- about his two best friends.

Dan has thrown his back out recently since he’s getting older, and John has been going over every couple days to help out around their house. Your mom won’t allow anyone to touch the garden, but she hates mowing, so John and Jimmy have been taking turns doing it so far. On top of John just liking your parents, you know there’s a little part of him that thinks of them as his own parents, which you absolutely love since you know your parents love him. He really just wants to take care of them, and it melts your heart.

“Hey,” John smiles as he swims back over to you, “I think I’m gonna get out soon. Start some smoothies for everyone. Wanna join?”

You nod your head as you smile, then you make sure Finn is back with Jimmy before you get out of the pool. Reaching up for John’s hand, you smile at him and take the towel he’s offering you and laugh when you wrap it around yourself.

“I think I need a bigger towel.” you laugh, looking at the towel just barely wrapped around your body.

“Sweetheart,” your mom furrows her brow and leans closer, “You have something on your left side…”

You scrunch your eyebrows and look at your legs and stomach, then you look at your mom when she gestures to your chest.

“Oh!” you turn to the side and move your arm, “I got it last year. It’s a ‘J’ for John! I know, I know, a tattoo is permanent.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” your mom smiles, then she gestures to John, “John needs to get something for you now!”

John laughs, “I’m planning on it. We said we’d get something after the baby is born. I already have an idea for what I want for my peach though.”

“My face. Just right across his chest.” you say, placing your hand on John’s chest, “Maybe a couple face tattoos as well.”

John scoffs and playfully rolls his eyes, “Yeah, right.”

You give John a little wink as you look at him, then you laugh as you look at your mom before heading to the house. John holds your hand to help you get up the steps so you don’t slip, then he holds the door open for you. You smile at John when you look over at him, then you bite your lip and blush when he looks at you.

“Mrs. Wick, are you checking me out?”

“Why, yes I am!” you smile proudly, then you walk with him upstairs, “You look so…fit lately.”

John scoffs, “Hardly. I’ve been stuffing my face all week.”

You smirk as you look at him, then you playfully shrug, “You certainly have.”

“And I like it that way,” he smiles, leaning over to kiss you. “Might have to have a little peach tonight.”

“Absolutely.” you smile as you walk over to your closet, then you quickly change into some clean clothes. You head into the bathroom and tie your hair up for now since you’ll shower later before bed, then you smile at John when he stands next to you to fix his shirt.

John stands behind you and places his hands on your stomach, then he looks at you through the mirror, “Ready?”

“Yup!”

You lean back against John’s chest and watch as he positions his hands under your belly, then he gently lifts your stomach up to help relieve some pressure on your spine and pelvis. You lean your head against his chest and close your eyes as a smile spreads across your face, and you feel John pressing a kiss to your head.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, and you nod your head. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to let go.”

“Definitely not yet.” you laugh, and John chuckles softly. You open your eyes to look at John through the mirror, then you laugh tearfully, “How the fuck did I get so lucky?”

John kisses your cheek before he looks at you, “How did I?”

After a few moments of holding your gaze, John kisses your cheek again, then he gently lowers your belly back down. You exhale when you move from in front of John, and you turn around to hug him.

“You have no idea how much relief that gives me.”

“Just here to help.” he whispers, then he reaches for your hand when you start to walk away, “Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath and nod, “Just--”

“Being a silly pregnant woman,” he says, cocking up his eyebrow, “You already tried that on me earlier.”

“Nothing gets past you, Wick.”

John lets out a small laugh, “Just let me know what I can do.”

“We’ll talk later. We always do.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

You walk over to John and cup his face, “Of course not!”

John leans down to kiss you several times, then he takes your hand and walks with you back downstairs. He walks over to the fridge to get out everything he’ll need for smoothies, and you grab a few extra towels for Jimmy and Tess. You hand one over to Jimmy as he walks into the house, then he puts his shoes on.

“I gotta get Finn’s headphones for the fireworks. I’ll be back.” he says, then he stops when he sees John with the blender, “You makin’ smoothies for everyone?”

John laughs as he nods, “Yeah.”

“Hell yeah!” Jimmy pumps his fist, then he quickly leaves the house.

You laugh as you look over at John, “My husband, the smoothie maker.”

“How the hell does one fall asleep during fireworks?” John laughs as he stands next to the bed and lifts up the blankets to get in, then he sits down, “I know he’s a baby, but that was amazing.”

You smile as you lean against the wall, “It was so cute seeing him crawl over to you and just falling asleep in your lap. Made my heart melt.”

“He’s a cute kid.” John says, and you nod before you start to brush your teeth.

You mumble with your toothbrush in your mouth as John raises his eyebrows and laughs, then you roll your eyes and put your finger up before you walk into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. You wipe your mouth off and pull your wet hair up into a bun, then you head back into the bedroom.

“I said that he always looks so cute when he scrunches up his nose when he laughs like Tess.” you say as you walk over to the bed, “Tess always scrunches up her nose when she talks and laughs, and I think it’s cute that Finn does it. He looks so much like Jimmy sometimes, so I love when I see Tess in him.”

“I see Tess in him,” John says, and you look over at him, “When he’s bawling his brains out or when he’s being naughty.”

You playfully shove John’s shoulder, “Be nice.”

“I’m kidding, of course. Finn’s a great kid.” John inhales deeply and looks over at you as you get yourself comfortable by stuffing pillows around you to support your belly, and he smiles when you look up at him, “You comfortable?”

“I am,” you laugh as you nod, “For once. I just wanna crash.”

John smiles as he leans down to kiss you several times, then he holds your gaze, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you whisper to him, then you lean up to kiss him again before you close your eyes and wrap your right arm around his waist.

“I’m gonna watch some TV, okay?” he says, and you nod your head as your eyes slowly flutter shut.

It only started raining about 15 minutes ago, so you assume John will be home soon. He went over to your parents’ house to mow for them, but now that it’s raining he’ll probably be home soon.

You grab a blanket off the couch as you walk past, then you head to the back patio so you can enjoy the rain. You smile at Bleu when you walk past him, and he hops up and follows you outside. He plops down on the deck and lays near the loveseat, then he perks his head up when he hears the garage door opening.

“Oh, your dad is home.” you say, and Bleu gets up and whimpers as he looks through the patio door, his tail wagging faster when he hears the front door open. You look over your shoulder into the kitchen window and watch as John walks in, and you perk up when you see flowers in his hand.

John sets the flowers down on the counter and rubs his hand over his beard, then he furrows his brow and walks into the living room. You peek through the window and watch him walk past the kitchen, then he stands in the doorway and looks around. A flash a lightning lights up the house for a quick moment, and John immediately looks over at the kitchen window and smiles when you wave at him. He waves back at you as he walks out onto the patio, then he laughs and pets Bleu for a moment.

“Knew you’d be out here as soon as I saw the lightning. Scoot over, lemme hold you.” John smiles as he sits down next to you, then he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer, “Gimme a kiss.”

You laugh quietly as you lean up to kiss John, cupping his face in your hand, “I love how you always say ‘gimme a kiss’, it’s so cute.”

“Keep kissing me!” he says against your lips, and you laugh even harder, “I missed my peach.”

“You were gone for three hours.”

John leans back and nods, “I know, I didn’t think I’d be gone for so long.”

You scoff quietly, “Three hours is not a long time, John.”

“I think so,” he pouts as he leans down to kiss you again. “Way too long. Hate being away from you.”

A smile tugs at your lips as you look up at John, “Really?”

“Of course. I’d rather be with you than anyone else.” he pulls you closer to him and kisses the top of your head, “You’re my girl.”

You lean your head against John’s shoulder as you look out at the rain falling in the backyard, and you smile to yourself when John kisses the top of your head over and over. He inhales the smell of your shampoo as he leans his head against yours, then he rubs your arm to warm you up.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Literally 30 seconds before you got here.” you laugh, then you look up at him, “How’s dad doing?”

John nods, “Good. He told me that he wants to be able to mow his own lawn, so he did mow the front. Your mom cheered him on, it was sweet.”

“I’m sure it’s hard for him to just suddenly not be able to do things. He’s taken care of his own lawn and ours since my mom met him.” you say as you shrug, “I’m sure next year when you’re an old man, you’ll be the same.”

“Oh, don’t even start with old man jokes!” John laughs, then he holds your gaze when you cock up your eyebrow. He tickles your stomach as you laugh loudly, then he leans down and tickles the crook of your neck with his beard. “You think I’m old?”

You laugh as you grab John’s wrists and push his hands away to keep him from tickling you, “No! Of course not! You’re my hunky hot husband, who literally has not aged a day since I met him. Seriously! You look exactly the same! No grays in your beard or hair, no wrinkles. Tell me your secret!”

“Happiness,” he whispers, and you playfully gag as you cross your eyes. “It’s true, peach.”

The rain is still coming down as you sit in John’s arms, and there’s a strike of lightning that’s so bright it lights up the entire backyard. Thunder rumbles a few moments later causing Bleu to sit by the door to be let inside.

“You want inside?” John asks, then he gets up and opens the door for Bleu before he sits back down. He groans a little as he sits back down, then he props his feet up on the table and looks over at you, “Can you believe it’s been a year since we were in Italy?”

“Oh my god,” you look over at him and gasp, “That’s true! One year ago, wow. One year since you scared the shit out of me. Twice, might I add!”

John lets out a small laugh, then he looks over at you, “I’m still so sorry about that. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you, seeing me like that.”

“Yeah,” you nod as you look at him, then you shrug, “I was just so worried about you. I finally met this amazing man who was everything I wanted, and I was scared I was going to lose him.”

“I wasn’t dying, peach.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “I know that, Wick. I think…there was always this part of me that thought after it happened, you’d get this…urge to go back to that life. Like maybe our life wasn’t enough since you got a taste of that other world again.”

John nods his head as he turns to face you, then he smiles and reaches for your hand, waiting for you to continue.

“But I think that night really changed it for me. I saw the way you looked at me when I saw you -- I saw your heart break.” you look over at him and shrug, “I think that was the moment I realized that you were truly ready to leave it all behind.”

“I’m still not even sure why I took the job there.” John admits, playing with your fingers, “Guess I just…thought it was what I was meant to do. At the beginning, it was really hard to turn off that switch, you know? But I think a lot changed for you and I after Italy. We finally decided on getting married that fall, you decided to come off your birth control, we wanted to start a family. I think Italy was exactly what we needed. Just the two of us away from all distractions. It was exactly what I needed as well because I realized that I just wanted to be with you. I didn’t care about that old life that I had.”

You smile softly as you look at him, “You don’t miss it?”

“Not at all.” John shakes his head as he looks out at the rain, “My life with you is so important and special to me, you know this. Putting myself at risk all the time isn’t worth it anymore.”

“It never was, Jonathan.”

John chuckles, “Agree to disagree. But I have a baby on the way with my favorite person in the world, a person who I couldn’t imagine my life without now, and I think that’s what is the most important thing now.”

You never got to have your conversation with John last night since you fell asleep and John has been gone for most of the day, so you figure you might as well have it now.

“You ready to talk now?” John asks, and you look up at him and smile. “Did I read your mind?”

“You always do,” you laugh, then you inhale deeply, “Obviously I’m beyond excited to start this new chapter with you, to be parents! I feel so lucky that I get to do it alongside you. We both have a lot of the same values, and I know we’ll both put her above anything.”

John reaches over and cups your face, “Just say what you’re feeling, mouse.”

You take a deep breath and sigh as you look at him, “I’m selfish because I still just want you to myself. It won’t be long now until we’ll have another person under the roof, and I feel so selfish because I’m going to miss the times when it was just us. I’m gonna miss having you to myself. We haven’t been together for that long, so it sucks that now I have to share you. I just want you to myself forever.”

“Do you really think I don’t feel that way too?” he asks, and you shrug as you nod. “I feel the exact same way. I love having you to myself, but I know I’m going to have to share you soon. I actually have been afraid to tell you about it, but I talked to Jimmy about it.”

“Really?”

John nods as he laughs, “Yeah, and he said he felt the same way too when they first had Finn. He said he felt a little jealous about not having time with just Tess, then he felt guilty about it because he thought that meant he didn’t love Finn, which we both know he absolutely does. Think about their relationship. They’ve never really had any time to just themselves since she got pregnant right after they got together.”

“That’s true, I shouldn’t complain.”

“Baby, that’s not what I’m saying,” John whispers, and you bite your cheek as you look up at him, “I feel the same way as you, and I know that she’s going to need you more than she needs me, that’s just a fact. I’ll miss when we could just do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted, but I also don’t want a baby to hold us back from doing things. I want us to still go out and have fun, and that’s not something that should ever change just because we have a baby.”

You nod as you look at him, “We can have date nights.”

“Absolutely! Your mom wanted to be here so she could be near her daughters and her grandchildren, you know that she’d be more than happy to take the baby for us so we could have a date night. I absolutely love taking you out on dates and showering you with love, and I don’t plan on stopping.”

You shrug, “I just don’t want…ugh, never mind, it sounds so stupid.”

John smiles softly as you look at him, “You know that I am absolutely crazy about you. You are the most important person in my life, and you always will be. Every morning I wake up and think to myself how fucking lucky I am to have you. You know my past, you know what I’ve done, and when I told you, you didn’t bat an eye. Do you know how lucky I am to have that, to have someone truly accept me and love me?”

“I just love you a lot,” you laugh tearfully as you wipe away your tears, “I don’t want us to lose what we have.”

“You can’t lose something this special,” John smiles, and you lean up to kiss him, “I made a promise to you that I would do everything in my power to make you happy and to show you every day how important you are to me, and I don’t plan on breaking that promise. It’ll be different with a baby, but I’m still going to be just as crazy about you. I love you more than anything, I really do.”

“I love you too, Wick.”

John smiles as he kisses you, then he leans back and laughs, “Anyone would be crazy about you, and I’d be an idiot to not be in love with you. I would be a massive idiot to fuck up what we have as well, especially since this is something so rare. I’m always going to be crazy about you -- in fact, I’m even more crazy about you now.”

You cup John’s face as you lean up to kiss him, then you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes,”I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy.”

“You haven’t been.” John whispers against your forehead, “This is so new to us, of course we’re going to be having some different emotions and feelings about things. But what’s important is you coming to me so we can talk through it. I don’t want that to change.”

Letting out a small laugh, you lean back and smile at him, “How are you always so level-headed?”

“One of us has to be,” he jokes as you laugh, then he rubs his thumb over your cheek, “Is there anything else bothering you?”

You shake your head as you smile at him, “Nope.”

“Okay, well, if you think of something later on, don’t ever hesitate to talk to me. I’m your husband, it’s what I’m here for.”

“I love you,” you scoot closer to John, then you raise your eyebrows and smile at him, “I know you’ve purposefully avoided talking to Bug…”

John laughs, “I didn’t want you to think I don’t care about you, so I wanted to talk to you first and make sure that you were feeling better.”

“But now…”

John laughs as he pulls the blanket off of you and kisses your belly, “Now I gotta talk to our baby girl.”

You smile as you watch John whispering softly to your belly, and you rub his back as he leans down and kisses your stomach over and over.

“Is she sleeping? Usually she’s kicking when she-- never mind,” John laughs when he sees your stomach move, “There she is. Hi, baby.”

“She was stomping on my bladder earlier today for about 15 minutes when I was trying to lay down, so I never got to take a nap.”

John chuckles as he sits up, still keeping his hand on your stomach, “Well, how rude of her.”

“She’s probably kicking now because she’s hungry.” you say as a smile spreads across your face, and John lets out a small laugh. “I was waiting for you to get home so we could go get something.”

“What are you in the mood for?” John asks as he gets up and reaches for your hands, and you shrug and gesture to him, “Oh, you’re in the mood for me? Mrs. Wick…”

You laugh as you playfully shove his shoulder, “What are you in the mood for?”

“Well, now that I know you want me…” he teases, then he laughs as he leans down to kiss you, “I’m in the mood for anything. It’s up to you, peach.”

“I kind of want pancakes.” you say, and John nods, “But not your pancakes.”

John scoffs as he backs away, “Ouch!”

“I really want pancakes from the cafe, which is perfect because you can get a burger!”

“That does sound good.” John nods, then he wraps his arms around you and kisses you several times, “You don’t like my pancakes anymore?”

You laugh as you look at him, “I love your pancakes, but you gotta admit, the cafe makes amazing pancakes.”

“They do.” John nods, then he pecks you again before he walks over to the door to open it.

Wrapping the blanket around you, you walk into the kitchen and smile when you see the flowers on the counter, “What are these for?”

“Oh, I ran to the store and grabbed a few things for your parents and I saw these beautiful flowers, so I got them for you.” he says, and you smile at him as he leans down to get a vase under the sink. He fills it with water and starts to laugh when he realizes you’re just staring at him, “I bought your mom some flowers too, and I’ve bought you flowers before, this isn’t new.”

“I know!” you laugh as you walk over to help him put the flowers in the vase, “It’s just sweet.”

John wraps his left arm around your waist and kisses your forehead, “You’re very cute, you know that? Still get butterflies coming home to you.”

“Stop! You’re gonna make me cry again.” you laugh, then you huff when your eyes fill with tears.

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” John whispers as he moves closer, “Waking up next to you every morning is indescribable.”

You put your hands over his mouth and laugh, “Stop it, Wick! I’m already a mess! I’m gonna make you cry one of these days, though I’m not as romantic as you.”

“Yes, you are,” John laughs, and you roll your eyes as he wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead, “I love you. If you ever feel like I’m slacking, just let me know.”

You scoff as you move out of John’s arms, “You slacking on being a good husband? Highly unlikely.”

“You’ll let me know?”

Looking back at John, you shake your head for a moment, then you nod, “Of course, but I know it won’t happen.”

“If it did, it certainly wouldn’t be intentional.” he says, and you smile at him.

You hold his gaze as you walk back over to him, and you reach for his hand and press a warm kiss to the palm of it. You place it on your cheek as you look up at him, then you close your eyes and smile, leaning into the warmth of his hand.

John shakes his head when you look at him, then he smiles, “You’re trying to get me to cry?”

“Maybe…” you say softly, then you laugh when John cups your face in his hands and kisses your forehead. You take his left hand and look down as you press it to your belly, then you laugh quietly. You tilt your head back as you hold his gaze, and you smile when John blinks a few times. You perk up and smile when you see his eyes growing glassy, and he lets go of you and turns around to hide from you. “Oh, my god! It worked!”

Keeping his back to you, John lets out a small laugh, “I’m not crying. Something flew into my eyes.”

“Oh, yeah, both of them?” you scoff, then you walk over to him and smile when he faces you, “You got a little teary eyed, don’t lie.”

“I did,” he laughs, and you raise your eyebrows in curiosity, “I genuinely didn’t mean for it to happen.”

You throw your hands up in victory as John laughs, then you dance in place, “I did it! I did it!”

John chuckles as he pulls you back to him, then he hugs you tight as you wrap your arms around his waist, “Can’t tell you how happy I am to have met you.”

“Oh, no, we’re not doing this again.” you laugh as you push yourself out of his arms, but he tightens his grip on you and smiles. “I’ve cried enough tonight.”

John hugs you tight in his arms as the two of you share a sweet kiss, then he kisses your cheek several times before burying his face in the crook of your neck. You hug him tight in your arms when he lifts you up to sit on the counter, then he kisses your nose before he walks over to the freezer.

“I ate all the ice cream last night.” you say, looking over your shoulder as he opens the freezer. “I woke up at like 2 and came down to eat it.”

“Without me?” John laughs, and you let out a small laugh as you nod. He walks over to you and helps you off the counter, then he kisses your forehead, “I made my girl cry a few too many times, so I think you deserve some ice cream.”

You nod, then you shrug, “They were happy tears though.”

“Oh, so you don’t want ice cream? Okay.” John jokes, letting go of your hand as he walks into the living room, and you run after him as you grab his hand.

“Hey! I still want some ice cream!”

John grabs his keys off the table and smiles when you look at him, “God, you’re so cute today. Come here!”

You laugh as John pulls you closer to him so he can kiss you, and you hug him tight around his waist. You tilt your head back to catch your breath for a moment, then you kiss him again and smile when he shakes his head.

“How the hell are you my wife? My wife?” he asks, and you playfully shrug, “So damn lucky.”

“What is going on with you today?”

John chuckles, “I don’t know. I think being around your parents made me…realize that that’ll be us someday. Your mom cheering on your dad, just like you cheer for me. Your dad is so in love with your mom, just like I am with you. It was nice.”

“They’re pretty cute.”

“They are,” John nods before leaning down to leave a sweet kiss on your lips, “I’ll tone it down for now, but just know that when we get home, it’s gonna get cranked up to ten.”

You laugh, “Oh, this isn’t ten?”

“You know this isn’t ten.” he laughs, and you smile as you look up at him.

“Hey,” you smile as you get to the bottom of the stairs, then you walk over and sit down when John pats the stool next to him. You lean over to see the book he’s working on, then you set your phone aside and prop your head up on your fist, “I love this cover, baby. It looks great.”

John takes a deep breath and nods as he sits back, “Yeah, it’s been fun to work on. A bit tedious with the gold flakes on the spine, but it’s a good one.”

You reach over to carefully move the book so you can see the gold on the spine, then you gasp, “This is gorgeous. They’re gonna love this.”

“Thank you. Got quite a few books done for clients. Some live not far from here, I thought you could ride along when I drop them off.” he says, and you nod your head and smile. John pats your thigh, then he leans over to kiss you, “How was lunch with Amanda? Kid-free?”

“Nope, Harper tagged along, but it was good!” you lean back and rub your belly, “Baby Wick is very happy because she got some amazing chicken -- a chicken salad. I ate like shit this morning so I figured I should eat a salad for lunch.”

John chuckles, “Balance.”

“Balance, yes. Balance because I…” you grimace as you look at John, “I so badly am craving a cheeseburger. I feel like these days all I can think about is food.”

“Hey, you and me both, and I’m not even pregnant.” John laughs, then he leans down to kiss your belly. “I’m glad you had a good lunch, baby.”

“Have you been outside today?”

John shakes his head and looks over, “No, I haven’t. Is it hot?”

“It’s like 100 degrees out,” you say as you grab your phone and look at the temperature, “Okay, not really, but it is like 80 something and there’s no breeze.”

“Wow, you must be dying.” he laughs as he gestures to your belly.

Nodding your head, you exhale loudly, “I’m certainly not thriving. Tess called me while I was out and wondered if she could come over and swim. I said yeah and told her I’d text her when I was home.”

“She knows that she can just come over and let herself in, right? I don’t mind. She even has a key to our front door. No sense in having a pool if we can’t share it with our family.”

“I told her that, but I don’t think she believes me when I say that you’re okay with her just coming over and using the pool without your permission.” you smile as John looks over at you and laughs, “As if anyone needs your permission. I’m the boss of this house.”

John leans over and kisses you several times, then he pats your cheek, “Yes, you are, baby. Hey, have you checked out the tank lately?”

“Ooh, I have not.” you get up from the stool and walk over to look at the fish tank, then you kneel down a little and look at all the bright colored fish swimming around. You grab the fish food and sprinkle a few flakes in, then you look at John to see him watching you, “They look good.”

“Yeah, I think we should get some more. How many do we have in there?”

You purse your lips and bend over to look in the tank, “Uh, I’ve counted 6.”

“Yeah, we definitely need some more.” he says, and you walk back over to sit next to him, “Maybe get some this weekend.”

John turns back to continue working on his book, then he glances up and smiles when he realizes you’re watching him. He gently brushes away the remaining gold flakes on the book and smiles as he looks at it, then he looks back at you again.

“Sorry,” you laugh as you shake your head, “I just love watching you work. I forget how…calming it is.”

“I don’t mind.” he smiles, then he leans over to kiss your cheek.

You watch John for a few more minutes as he finishes up the gold on the book, then you smile when he presses his stamp to the inside of the book. It’s always been one of your favorite parts, and you’re unsure as to why. It’s just really cute.

“Do you remember the other day when you were making me cry over everything?” you ask, and John laughs as he looks up at you.

“And you were trying to get me to cry, yes, I remember.”

You smile and grab your phone, “Well, when you were at work yesterday, I thought to myself ‘why don’t you vocalize more to John how much he means to you?’ So, I opened up my notes on my phone to write everything that came to mind. We both know that you’re good with words. You’ve always been honest with me and always told me that I make you so happy--”

“You do that too.” John says, furrowing his brow, “Baby, I know how much you love me. You tell me every day.”

“But I feel like I don’t say it enough.” you hold his gaze and smile, “I want to start being more open and vocal about it, saying cute things like you say to me. You deserve it. You deserve to hear it.”

John puts his utensils down and turns to face you, “Okay…”

“Look, you and I are number one when it comes to having our deep conversations and talking about how important we are to one another, and I love that. I truly think it’s what keeps us close.” you nod, then you laugh, “But when I opened my notes yesterday to write something to you. I noticed a note that I had written. We met in September; I wrote this about a month after we met. I didn’t even remember that I wrote it, and I hadn’t read it since I wrote it. Until yesterday.”

John sits up a little as a smile grows on his face, “Oh, I’m intrigued.”

“Keep in mind, I didn’t know everything at this point. You and I hadn’t even told each other that we loved each other yet.” you laugh, and John widens his eyes jokingly. “Yeah. Also keep in mind, I am not a poet. You wanna hear it?”

“I do. I absolutely do.”

You take a deep breath as you look down at your phone and unlock it, then you smile when John places his hand on your knee. You exhale nervously and prepare to read the note to John, and you let out a small laugh over how corny it is.

“I hung out with John again today. He’s incredible. I can’t quite put my finger on it and I can’t quite read him yet, but I like him. I like him a lot. When I’m with him, I feel…different. It’s a feeling that I’ve never felt before, it’s butterflies in my stomach from just a little glance or the softest touch, it’s my cheeks burning red when he smiles at me, it’s feeling my heart bursting in my chest when I hear his laugh. It’s…terrifying. I cannot breathe until I’m with him, and I’m quickly realizing how important this man is becoming to me. I want this feeling to last forever, and I have a feeling it will.” you look up at John and laugh when you see his eyes glassy with tears, then you look back to read it again, “I’m terrified and excited all at once, and I already know…that he is absolutely the man I am going to marry.”

John smiles when you set your phone aside, and you shrug bashfully as you hold his gaze. He leans forward and cups your face in his hands, then he shakes his head before he kisses you repeatedly.

“You wrote that about me after knowing me for a month?” he laughs, nodding his head, “Soulmates.”

“Soulmates.” you smile as you nod, then you kiss him again. “After reading that, I decided to have another little moment when I just write what comes to my head, so I gave it another go.”

John immediately nods his head and smiles, “I’d love to hear it.”

You grab your phone again, then you look up at John, “I feel like so many times we focus on whether or not I’m happy and whether I know that I’m loved, and sometimes we overlook you and whether or not you’re happy and know that you’re loved. It’s something I really need to work on, because you should always know how much I love you and how much I appreciate you and how happy you make me. Making you happy is all I truly care about, so if sometimes I don’t do a great job, just know that it’s not intentional. Just like I know you would never intentionally slack on being a good husband. We’re so lucky to have one another, and the flame that we have is never gonna fizzle out because we constantly-- sorry.”

John reaches over for a tissue and hands it to you so you can wipe away the tears on your face, and he smiles when you look up at him. He places his hands on your thighs and smiles, just waiting for you to keep going.

“The flame that we have, this love that we have, it’s never gonna fizzle out because you and I are constantly doing things to keep it lit. We’re lucky that both of us want to put in the work and both of us want to be with one another and make one another happy. Jonathan Charles Wick, you are my absolute best friend in the world, and I am so fucking lucky that I get to wake up and be loved by you, but I am even luckier because I get to wake up every day and love you.”

“Wow,” John laughs as he sits up, then he reaches over for a tissue, “Yeah, you got me.”

You smile proudly, “Yes!”

“Can I see?” he asks as he takes your phone, and you smile when he looks up at you, “It’s gone…”

Shrugging bashfully, you tap your temple and smile, “Maybe it just came off the top of my head.”

John wraps his arms around you to pull you close to his chest, then he kisses your cheek repeatedly before he sighs contently with you in his arms.

“Was all of it off the top of your head?”

You nod, then you shake your head, “Well, not the first thing I read. That really was in my notes. Along with a grocery list where I wrote that I needed condoms, which is weird since we’ve never used condoms, so the grocery list must have been before we slept together for the first time.”

John smooths your hair away from your face as he kisses you, then he smiles, “See what I mean? I am so damn lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other.”

Nodding his head, John leans forward and presses a kiss to your lips, then he smiles softly, “No doubt about that.”

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick x y/n #fic: hold my hand #the tagging system is being really weird so i hope they fix that #anyway enjoy some cutie pies #the little ending part in the basement makes me teary eyed #they're so sweet with each other #ok byeeeee love yall

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honeynutouran · 3 years

Text

Me too (Kirishima x Reader)

Summary: You have had a crush on Kirishima since you started going to UA but you never said anything. Now third years you have a long weekend and you and your friends decide to go on a road trip.

Word count: 1.8k

Kirishima x GN reader

Y/N = your name

A/N: I haven't written in a hot minute so I wrote this up feeling the need to write. Sorry if its not the best I just wanted to post something for you guys. Also I suck at endings so I apologize.

Warnings: some cursing, one bed and fluff. (If there are any other warnings please reach out to me so I know)

UNEDITED

Being best friends with Bakugou Katsuki had its perks like he would help you study because “If you won’t leave me alone might as well keep up with me.” (His exact words) And you got to hang out with his other friends and his other best friend, Kirishima.

Bakugou has noticed that you have had a liking for Kirishima and would not drop it. “God, just say something to shitty hair already, I am sick of you staring at him all the time. I’m trying to teach you this new move listen dumbass.” He said to you when he caught you staring at Kirishima during training.

“I was admiring his form, shut up boom-boom boy.” You spat back, hitting him with your quirk.

“Yeah right, his form, and that didn’t even hurt.” He laughed brushing off where you had hit him.

“I wasn’t aiming to hurt you, dumbass.” You said this time aiming at his head as he tried to dodge your oncoming attack.

A few weeks had passed and you and the rest of your group were planning what you would all do on your next long weekend. Mina insisted you all go on a road trip stopping at her house one night since she had enough room for everyone as long as everyone was cool with sharing sleeping spaces. Everyone agreed it seemed like fun, well almost everyone.

“Why would I want to spend a long weekend with you extras?” Bakugou questioned.

“Bakugoubro, you’ll have a great time with us.” Kaminari smiled a toothy grin to Bakugou and Kirishima joined in.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be very mainly to skip out on time with your friends," Kirishima added.

“Plus, if you don’t hang out with us, who else will put up with you?” Sero chimed in causing everyone but the boy in question to laugh.

“Fine, so you guys stop annoying me.” He gave in and you smiled to yourself thinking about a weekend with your friends and especially with Kirishima.

After getting permission from Aizawa to leave the dorms for the weekend and Sero borrowing his family’s minivan the plan all fell into place.

“We can take turns driving every couple of hours!” Mina exclaimed climbing into the passenger seat next to Sero in the driver’s seat. Behind them in the middle row were Bakugou and Kaminari. You and Kirishima were in the very back because Bakugou claimed he would get car sick in the back (a lie he came up with so you could sit next to Kirishima, unknown to you) and Kaminari claimed he would be best in the middle so he could charge everyone’s phones fairly.

“let me know if you need more room, it would be unmanly of me if I made you uncomfortable.” Kirishima smiled at you as you guys got situated in your seats.

“I’m okay, thanks, Kiri.” You smiled back at him.

After a few hours, you started to feel yourself get more and more tired despite it now being Mina's driving shift and she was not the most graceful driver.

“Hey, Y/N you look pretty tired,” Kirishima whispered.

“hmm.” You nodded in reply your eyelids becoming heavier. You tried to fight the tiredness, but you failed, finally letting the sleep take over.

Kirishima was frozen in place as your head plopped onto his shoulder, he knew that if he moved and woke you up it would be super unmanly. He would never let anyone wake up because of him, especially you. Mina looked in the mirror and smiled at the sight of you and whispered to the rest of the car to look. With that Kirishima blushed when the rest of the boys turned towards you two Kaminari giving him a thumbs up. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the sight but he was secretly happy for his best friends.

After some more time and everyone having driven, you had finally arrived at Mina’s house. “Welcome to my humble abode!” Mina smiled while gesturing toward the house. “It is a little cramped but, we have 2 spare rooms.” She explained.

“So two rooms and six of us?” Sero asked.

“Well three rooms including mine, so two per room. I’m assuming Y/N in my room then the rest of you can split up.” Mina suggested.

“No way am I sleeping in the same room as any of these loud idiots. I’ll be with you raccoon eyes.” Bakugou complained.

“I am not sure my parents will be okay with you in my room Bakugou.” Mina started.

“Parents love me-“ started but was cut off by your laughing.

“Bakugou my parents have known you since you were in diapers, and they cannot stand you sometimes.” You laughed even more.

“Shut up ditz, I don’t want to be stuck with you all night either. I’ll talk to raccoon eyes parents. Also, sparky you cannot room with Y/N last time you guys had a ‘sleepover’ you short-circuited and shocked Y/N and you both had to see recovery girl.” Bakugou reminded you before walking into the house to convince Mina’s parents of his sleeping arrangement.

“Hey, that was awesome, and we were fine.” Kaminari protested.

“It’s okay dude, we can room together, finish out the smash bros tournament we started in the van.” Sero offered, and Kaminari happily agreed.

“Looks like we are roomies.” Kirishima smiled at you pulling his stuff and yours out of the van.

“I can take that.” You said pointing to your bag but, Kirishima shook his head and insisted he got it. “Thanks, Kiri, you really don’t have to though.” You say feeling bad that he is taking your stuff.

“It’s okay Y/N you’re stuck rooming with me, it’s the least I can do.” He offered smiling, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“I am not stuck with you, Kiri you would have been my first choice.” You smile back your face starting to heat up. Kiri looks at you a little too long before he realizes he is holding both your stuff and his own.

“I should go bring these to the room then.” He coughed out walking into the house.

“Well, that damn blasty brat convinced my parents that he would be the best to sleep in my room, so I guess I will show the rest of you where you will be staying.” Mina sighed not looking forward to her sleeping arrangements.

“Hey, I am a delight.” Bakugou yelled from somewhere in the house.

“Yeah, can’t wait. Anyways Kaminari and Sero you guys can take my brother's old room since you won’t mind the smell. Kirishima and Y/N you guys can take the guest bedroom.” Mina said pointing to each room. Kirishima nodded and took your stuff into the guest room upon entering he turned to you his face matching his hair.

“Uh Y/N… there is only one bed. I can ask Mina if she has a spare futon or something if you want me to, it would be super unmanly to make you share the bed with me an-“ you cut off his rambling.

“Kiri, it is okay, the bed is pretty big anyways there is plenty of room I wouldn’t want you to be stuck on the floor. I promise it is okay.” You say hoping he does not realize your face is on fire from the idea of sharing a bed with the boy you have been in love with since your first year at UA.

“Well, if you are sure it is okay.” He says a little unsure himself.

“It is.” You reassure him.

When it was time to go to bed Kirishima was panicking when he was changing into his pajamas, what if he did something to make you uncomfortable or what if he does something stupid, but what he didn’t know is you were having the same worries as you changed in the bathroom. After you finished changing you knocked on the door to see if it was okay to come in.

“I’m changed, you can come in,” Kiri said, turning towards the door when you came in. “What side of the bed do you want?”

“Oh, uh I don’t care either is fine.” You said walking in and closing the door behind you.

“Okay, I will just take the side closer to me then.” He said getting into bed, practically on the edge.

“Kiri, you can move over some more, you don’t have to worry. I would be worried if you fell off the bed.” You laughed at his attempts to be as respectful as possible.

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He explained once again.

“Kiri how many times must I tell you? You could never make me uncomfortable.” You said moving closer to him.

“Are you sure, because what if I like ended up cuddling you or something?” he blushed.

“I would be okay with that.” You admitted hiding your face under the sheets to avoid any further embarrassment. But your surprise Kirishima grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“This is okay?” he asked.

“It is more than okay.” You replied molding yourself into him.

“I’m glad.” He smiled into the back of your head making himself comfortable against your touch. You two quickly fell asleep in each other’s embrace.

At the moment you two were way too happy to be with one another you forgot about the four other members of your group. You were still in Kirishima’s embrace by morning, only have gotten more entangled with each other.

“Shitty hair, ditz get up!” Bakugou yelled as he opened your door. You both bolted up and backed away from each other only to have Bakugou scoff and close the door. “Don’t be late for breakfast.” He said from behind the door.

“We should probably get down there,” Kirishima said scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah but first I gotta do something.” You said scooting closer to Kirishima.

“Do what?” he asked as you got closer.

“This.” You smirked, closing the distance between you two by crashing your lips into his, he quickly caught on and deepened the kiss letting the feelings across that you two have shared for each other for years. “Been wanting to do that for a long time.” You smiled when you broke apart.

“Me too.” He smiled back in his crooked smile. “So does this mean we are dating?”

“I hope so.” You said grabbing his hand and pulling him out of bed.

“Then it does.” He replied as you walked hand in hand to breakfast.

“I CALLED IT!” Mina yelled when you two walked into the kitchen.

“Sero owes me five bucks.” Kaminari said smirking at you two.

“Technically no, because we do not know when this happened.” Sero said to Kaminari making him frown.

“Who cares, can we eat,” Bakugou complained but you could have sworn when no one was looking he smiled to himself. “Told you, you should have told him.” He said to you under his breath.

“Did you know this whole time Katsuki?” you asked.

“Tch, know what?" He replied taking a bite of his food and refusing to keep talking on the matter. Kirishima grabbed your hand once again giving it a small squeeze and smiling at you when you turned your head towards him.

“I’m glad we went on this trip.” He smiled.

“Me too.” You smiled back Kiri.

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