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sgwrscrsh · 3 years

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winter days: underneath the tree

☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.

includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words

☁️masterlist☁️

shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked.

yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.

living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.

you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.

“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.”

“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands.

“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.

“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.

submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub.

“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.”

rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”

“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said.

emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist.

“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves.

“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.

“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”

you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.

“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.

during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.

“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.

“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.

“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.

“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms.

“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves.

“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes.

“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?”

naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.

the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner.

with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you.

by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door.

“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry.

“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”

“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.

“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.

“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”

“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.

“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”

“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.

“what time did you get up this morning?”

“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”

“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.

“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”

“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.

“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go.

“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”

“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.

“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.

“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.

one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.

christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.

“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”

“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings.

“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you.

“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”

“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.

“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.

“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts.

“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.

“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.

suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.

“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you.

“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds.

“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”

“go ahead?” hajime parrots.

“yea! open it!”

“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.

“well yes and no. c��mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.

“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.

“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.

“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”

“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.

“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.

“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask.

“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”

“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining.

“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.”

“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.

“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug.

“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.

“uhh, surprise?”

“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”

“actually…”

“you didn’t.”

“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”

“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.

“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”

“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.

“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.

“when did you have time to do this?”

“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”

while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.

“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by.

“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.

“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.

“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”

“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.

“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!”

“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.

“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.

“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.”

as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out.

issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.

sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.

taglist: @lovemeafterhrs @sachirou-senpai @honey-makki @kenmaki

#skye writes fluff #seijoh four #seijoh third years #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu poly #haikyuu post time skip #skye writes a series #summer on you: the series

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myqueenjudeduarte · 5 years

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Something Like Trust: Chapter 5

Post-The Wicked King

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Ao3

Tags/Warnings: Spanking, Caning, Collars, umm honestly not too much to warn about in this chapter because it’s mostly Feelings Time

Summary: I can’t find a good summary line in the text but this chapter is heavy on the feelings and a little lighter on the smut! But don’t worry next chapter we will be Back In Business.

Word Count: 3,988

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my fics/in this fic! Tell me what you want to see happen next! Reply with what you like and don’t like! Give me feedback!

Tags: @mis-lil-red @wickedqueenoffantasy @yrenewestfall-official @fultimefangirl @what-huh-imconfused @pinkydaze @sketchy-characters-in-progress @obsessed-withtheworld @mehlisssa @sjmsstuff @tswaney17 @oliviathorne280 @hoegreenbrair @illyrianbeauty @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @singme-t0sleep @bookloveaffair @celeanagalathynius @schmlip-scribble @breezyfreezey @fi-fi-firefly @feysand-dot-acotar

He didn’t tell her that he loved her then, of course.

There was too much left between them, too many untold truths and unaddressed hurts. Too many unknowns and too many things they had left to do.

At least, these were Cardan’s excuses to himself.

In reality, he was afraid.

For the past few days, Cardan had not seen Jude. She was visiting Vivi, Heather, and Oak, as she did more often since her time in exile. Vivi and Heather wanted the opportunity to go out, just the two of them, to relearn each other after Heather's time away, so Jude went to play babysitter for Oak.

Cardan missed her. He missed having sex with her and he missed the rare moments afterward when he got to hold her. He missed looking at her and talking with her and raising his eyebrows when she was a bit too snarky for the confines of their arrangement.

When Jude returned from her visit to the mortal world, Cardan could hardly wait to see her. He expected her to come directly to his chambers upon her return, that she would have missed him at least to some degree, if not as much as he missed her.

But she didn't come.

And she didn't.

It wasn't until two mornings after she was supposed to have returned that Cardan woke to find Jude kneeling in the center of his chambers, and he knew instantly from her posture that something was wrong.

"How long have you been there?" he asked sleepily.

"A while," came her reply, spoken quietly. "I missed you."

"And I you," he said, rising from the bed and kneeling beside her on the floor. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

"I was... I couldn't..." she trailed off hopelessly.

"Come here, Jude," he said, reaching out his arms to hold her. To Cardan's surprise, Jude jerked away from him.

"I can't!" she exclaimed, moving to sit across the room from him and bringing her knees up to her chest.

Cardan felt entirely helpless. He had several options -- let her isolate herself, try to be comforting, or assume the dominant attitude he would normally take on to address the way she was acting.

He opted to give comfort one more try.

He approached her slowly, hands outstretched, wanted her to know he was only there to help. She shrunk even further into herself as he approached.

"Jude," and he hated himself for the helplessness in his voice, for the way that he sounded like a child. "Talk to me, please. I want to help you."

She was silent for several long moments before she spoke, and he could hear that she was close to tears.

"I need you to make me tell you," she whispered, voice cracking. "I can't do it on my own. It's too hard. Help me."

Cardan found that, for once, he had no desire to do as she asked. He didn't want to make her tell him -- he wanted her to volunteer the information, to trust him enough to open up to him.

(He wanted her to love him.)

Still, he decided to give her what she was asking for.

"Come here, Jude."

She stayed where she was, knees pulled up to her chest, head buried in her hands.

"I gave you an order." Cardan's voice was entirely cold, pure dominance, what she seemed to be asking for and certainly needed.

Jude stood and crossed to Cardan, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Bend over the bed," came his next order, and she did as she was told, bending at the waist so that her doublet rode up.

"You can either tell me what the matter is, Jude," he said, running a hand lightly over her thighs, her ass, her lower back, "or I can beat it out of you."

Jude shivered, and from the way she rubbed her legs together almost imperceptibly, Cardan could guess the affect his words had on her. He was relieved that, at the very least, she was not too upset to be aroused by the idea of being punished.

Still, she didn't speak. She lifted her ass higher, enticing him. Making him want to hurt her, if only for her cheekiness.

Maybe that was her intention.

His hand came down hard on the center of her ass, but she didn’t react. After fifteen blows of the same intensity with no reaction, Cardan paused.

“Jude,” he said, voice as gentle as he could make it, despite his harsh actions. “Just talk to me. Please, just talk to me.”

“I can’t,” came her response, choked and quiet. “I can’t yet. I need this, Cardan. Please.”

It was the “please” that broke him, the fact that, though it wasn’t quite begging, it was the closest she had ever come to pleading with him for anything.

He redoubled his efforts, yanking her pants down and raining down blows in earnest, only her underwear acting as a buffer. He viewed it as a success when she finally moaned in pain at an especially hard slap on the place where her thigh met her ass.

After a while, she was crying out softly at every blow, and he could feel warmth emanating from her skin.

“Are you ready to talk to me, Jude?” he asked, keeping his voice entirely dominant.

“Not yet. I’m sorry, My Lord. Not yet.”

He could hear that her voice was thick with unshed tears, and realized exactly what she needed.

He pulled down her underwear and entirely removed them, along with her pants, from her legs.

“Spread your legs for me.” She hurried to obey the command, spreading them as wide as she could.

“Stay right where you are. If you move so much as an inch in my absence, your punishment will be doubly harsh to what I already have planned. And believe me, darling, when I say that you do not want that.

He knew this harsh, dominating exterior was what she needed right now, so he fully adopted the role. As much as he wanted to take her into his arms and provide comfort for whatever was plaguing her, that could come later. Right now she needed him to coax the truth out of her, a task he would accomplish with pain.

He planned to make her cry.

When he returned, it was with a cane. He had acquired it more to use as a threat than an actual implement of punishment, but it seemed it would prove necessary.

He saw that she was exactly where he left her. Good.

“Jude, this is going to hurt. I won’t pretend that it will be pleasurable for you, but when you finally tell me what plagues you, your reward will be. Hold entirely still, do you understand me?”

“Yes, My Lord.” Cardan could finally hear a hint of trepidation in Jude’s voice, a modicum of fear. He was relieved to know she still had some sense of self-preservation.

With the first stripe of the cane, Jude cried out in pain and twisted her body to escape further blows. Cardan pinned her in place with a hand on her lower back.

“I told you,” he said, slapping her on the welts forming from the cane, “not to move.”

“Yes, My Lord.” He knew he had chosen the right implement from the way her voice cracked, the fact that she was closer now to crying than she had been even a moment before. He had hoped that one stripe with the cane would suffice to convince her to talk, but he was willing to go further if necessary.

At the second blow, she managed to hold still but wailed. At the third, she finally broke.

Tears rolled down Jude’s face when she looked up at him. “No more,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you.”

Cardan dropped the cane immediately and sat down on the bed beside her. Gratefully, she moved to kneel on the floor and rest her head on his lap, and he ran his hands through her hair, gentle, stroking movements to provide comfort after the pain.

“I’m sorry,” she began.

“That isn’t what I want from you, Jude,” Cardan replied, interrupting. “I want you to tell me what weighs so heavily that I had to make you cry to get it out of you.”

“Yes, My Lord. I just… it’s hard to tell you because I know that you’ll make me feel better when I do, and I don’t think I deserve to feel better.”

“Darling, you do deserve to feel better. You took your punishment for whatever has sparked this self hatred in you. Tell me, and let me assure you that you are not the monster you seem to think you are, undeserving of kindness and care. Tell me now, Jude.”

“I have been…” she paused, sighed, thought for a moment. “I have been haunted by the way I treat you. By the feeling that I use and take advantage of this arrangement and you get nothing out of it, and yet despite that, I still refuse to give myself over to you.” She let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh. “I won’t even share your chambers on most nights, no matter how much of my time is spent here. And I am often unkind to you when you encourage me to be more open with you. Even today is an example of that.

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I cannot bring myself to be as intimate as we both would like. I have too much fear — fear that making myself vulnerable is the biggest mistake I could make. I am afraid, all the time, My Lord. And even telling you this scares me more than you know.”

Throughout Jude’s words, Cardan stroked her hair gently back from her face, ran his hands down her back and over her shoulders in a gesture of comfort.

“Jude,” he said after a long moment of silence, “you have done nothing which warranted even the punishment you received. I wish you had told me as soon as you arrived from the mortal world how you were feeling. I would have answered you point by point then, as I am about to do now.

“First, the implication that I get nothing out of this arrangement is absurd.” Cardan tugged on Jude’s shoulders until she rose, standing between his legs and facing him. He stroked her arms. “Do you know how much I crave the feeling of you beneath me, above me, on my lap or spread out on the bed? Do you know how beautiful you are and how honored I feel to be the one who sees you as I do? The idea that you gain more from this arrangement than I do is entirely ridiculous, and I will tell you that until you believe it. I gain more from this arrangement than I have ever gained from lying with another.

“Secondly, as much as I may press you to share my chambers and, more broadly, share yourself with me, I would never expect it of you. I understand that you need space and time and that you are unprepared to be that vulnerable. I will not deny that it hurts me at times, but it is not your responsibility to avoid that. As for being unkind to me, if you were truly unkind, I would punish you, would I not? Do we not have an entire system in place to avoid exactly that? You have no cause for concern.”

Cardan lay back on the bed and maneuvered Jude to lay beside him. “All of that being said, I am so proud that you shared with me how you were feeling, even if I had to cane it out of you. I know it was challenging. You will always be rewarded for doing difficult things. First, though, I want to know two things — how you feel now and what brought all of this up for you in the first place.”

Jude took a deep breath. “When I was in the mortal world, I spent a lot of time with Vivi and Heather, and they were… so in love, so affectionate and kind with one another, and it made me hate myself for the way I treat you. The way I have treated you. Since we talked last week, I have felt much better about our arrangement not making me wrong or disgusting, but I still have doubts about the fact that this arrangement is all we have. We don’t love each other, we don’t take care of each other the way they do, and it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong, like I’m hurting you. I don’t know.”

Cardan swallowed hard. He knew this was the time and yet he was petrified, so there was a long moment of silence before he finally worked up the nerve to speak.

“I do love you, Jude.”

There was more silence.

And more silence.

And more silence. “What?” she asked, voice desperate, desperate to have misheard so she wouldn’t have to face the implications of his words and of what she had just said. We don’t love each other, but if he did love her, what did that make her?

“I love you. I know you do not return the feeling, and I no more expect you to than I expect you to share my chambers or share your heart with me. But I needed you to know that there is some semblance of normality in our relationship, and that is the fact that I love you. I love you, Jude, for all that you are and all that you can be. For all that you have done and all that you continue to do, every day, fighting for yourself, for me, for this kingdom. I love you for your bravery and strength and for your fear. I just…” he trailed off, unsure what else he could say that would truly convey the depth of his feeling. “I just wanted you to know that you are loved, even if it is by someone you never wanted to love you.”

For the second time in one day, Jude was in tears.

“I do — I do want you to love me. But I’m so afraid, Cardan.” She reached over, stroked his face, pushed back his hair and pressed a long kiss to his cheek. “I’m so afraid,” she whispered in his ear.

“I know,” he replied, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I know.”

They merely held hands for several long moments. Jude blinked rapidly to clear her eyes of tears and Cardan gazed at her, wishing beyond all that she was his in more ways than sexually. Still, he would take what he could get.

Finally, he pressed her hand to the bed and rose. “Stay here,” he ordered. “I have a reward for you.”

When he returned, he carried a small box, which he held out to her. “For making yourself even the slightest bit vulnerable. For crying for me, and for telling me how you feel. For taking your caning so beautifully, and for being incredible for these past few weeks.”

Jude opened the box and found what looked almost like a choker. A tight leather necklace with a metal ring on the front.

A collar.

She looked up at him in surprise. “I… I’ll wear this?” she asked, hesitantly.

Cardan smiled.

“Yes, you will wear this. Only when we are alone, of course, but it will serve as a constant reminder that you belong to me. Perhaps you will incur fewer punishments with that reminder consistently available to you.

“I will expect you to don the collar and remove all other clothing every time you enter my chambers, as soon as you enter. There will not be leniency for this new rule — you will be punished for every minute that you do not obey. Unless there are others present, I do not want to see you in clothes or without your collar. Do you understand?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Jude replied, slipping gladly back into her role.

“Good. Then obey.”

“Oh!” Jude hurried to do so, jumping up and stripping herself of her doublet and bra before lifting the collar.

“Wait,” said Cardan, holding up a hand to stop her. “Let me.”

He moved to stand behind her and took the collar from her hands. He pulled it around her neck and fastened it at the back, lifting her hair as he did. Then, he turned her in his arms.

“Beautiful,” he said, and kissed her so deeply she thought she might drown in it.

True, she was afraid, but she was also deliriously happy.

“Let me bring some cream for your welts,” Cardan said, after gazing down at her for several long moments.

“I have welts?” she asked, and there was something he didn’t recognize in her voice.

“Yes, from the cane. How does that make you feel?”

“Proud,” she said quietly. “Like I have further proof that I belong to you. And proof of what I can handle.”

Cardan smiled. “Good girl. You should feel proud.” He stroked her hair back and she pushed her face into his hand, content from the praise, the collar, and the tears she had shed.

While Cardan left to retrieve the cream, Jude lay on her stomach, anticipating his soothing ministrations. And when they came, it was all she could do to prevent herself from moaning at the mingled pain and pleasure of having cream rubbed on her sore ass.

“Now,” Cardan announced when he was finished. “Roll onto your back.”

Jude did as instructed, turning over to face him and smiling despite the pain, slightly hazy from the contentment she felt, from the headspace she had entered. She was right where Cardan wanted her.

“I want you to touch yourself, darling. I ask — no, I command — that you move slowly and pay close attention to every relevant part of your body before you come. I want to watch you put on a show for me. Touch yourself the way that I would touch you if I was unhurried, intending to draw our your pleasure. Make me want to come just from watching you.”

Jude, more obedient than ever after the emotional exhaustion of the last hour, complied immediately. She ran one hand slowly over her stomach, between her breasts, and up to her neck to trace the collar where it rested. Cardan sucked in a breath.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, voice worshipful. “You have no idea how stunning you look in the collar. In the evidence that you belong to me.”

Jude felt a warm glow of praise fill her body, and redoubled her efforts, hoping beyond hope to please him, to make him as happy as he could make her. She moved her hand up to suck her own fingers into her mouth before trailing them down, over her breast, leaving a trail of wetness in their wake.

“May I speak, My Lord?”

“Yes, Jude, feel free.”

“I’m imagining that it’s you touching me.” She closed her eyes, losing herself in the fantasy. “Your hands running over my breasts. I wish I could feel your mouth on me.” Jude was anxious, generally uncomfortable speaking openly about sex even while having it, but she knew it would overjoy Cardan to hear and all she could think of in this moment was pleasing him.

“If I was touching you, what do you think I would do?” Asked Cardan, encouraging her to speak further.

“You would press kisses all over my stomach. You always do spend so much time on it.” She ran her own hand over the soft curve of her stomach, pressing down to feel the hard muscles under her skin. “You would move lower, teasing me, making me think you were about to give me what I wanted, but then go back up to my breasts.” Her hands drifted over her thighs for only a moment before returning higher, circling a nipple lazily.

“What would I do to your breasts?” Cardan asked, and Jude could hear his breathlessness, the effect she was having on him.

“Bite down softly, then harder, then harder again until I cried out. Circle your fingers around my nipples but wait so, so long to quite touch them.” She couldn’t deny the effect the combination of her words and actions were having on her, as well, and her voice grew more desperate as she made herself wait the way she knew Cardan wanted.

“You would finally touch my nipples only to pinch them until I winced.” She performed the action on herself and let out a breath of pain. “And then you would laugh at me for wincing. You would tell me, ‘I thought that was what you wanted, for me to touch you there. Why are you protesting?’”

Cardan let out a breath. “You have no inkling of the difficulty I’m having in restraining myself from touching you, Jude.”

“So touch me,” Jude said, tone just shy of pleading.

“Unfortunately, I’m not done watching the show.”

Jude continued, only mildly frustrated by his refusal to touch her.

“Then, you would finally move down to my thighs and stay there.” She traced light circles on her inner thighs, moving slowly higher. “You would tease me, touching everywhere except where I wanted you to. Then, finally, you would hold my hips down,” she pushed her hips down into the bed, arching her back, and gasped at the pain on her ass, “and tell me to be still and quiet or you’d stop, and you’d touch me right here—“

“Stop.” Cardan’s tone left no room for argument, and Jude did as told, but let out a groan of displeasure.

“My turn,” Cardan said lightly, but his expression was anything but light as he moved to join Jude on the bed. Still naked from sleep, Cardan pulled Jude atop him, facing him, and entered her in one smooth thrust. Jude cried out, then shuddered in pain as Cardan’s hands brushed the welts on her ass.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling,” he said, but she could tell from his smirk that it had been intentional.

Jude began to ride Cardan, moving up and down, forward and backward, twisting her hips in the way she knew he loved. Occasionally, he would grip her at the waist and still her motions, wanting her to simply feel the length of him inside her. In those times, Jude would moan at the deep fullness, throwing her head back and closing her eyes.

It took Cardan’s breath away. She took Cardan’s breath away.

Cardan reached a hand between them and began rubbing hard circles around Jude’s clit until she came, fast and loud and beautiful, and he quickly followed.

In the moments afterward, after Jude rolled off and Cardan shifted onto his side to gaze at her, after Cardan reached out a hand to stroke Jude’s hair from her face, they felt as though nothing could ever go wrong.

“That… you touching yourself, telling me what I would do to you… that was beyond words, my love.”

Jude smiled at the new term of endearment.

“Cardan,” she began, swallowing hard. “Thank you. For that. For all of this. For initiating this arrangement. For telling me you love me. For making me trust you. It’s so hard, it’s all so hard, but this is the safest thing I have ever experienced. I feel safe with you. I’m sorry I can’t give you more than that.”

He knew what she was alluding to — she was sorry that she couldn’t love him. In this moment, though, he barely cared. What she was giving him was enough. Her trust, her safety, was enough for him.

It had to be.

#my fic #my posts #something like trust #tfota #the folk of the air #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #judecardan #jurdan fanfic #tcp #the cruel prince #twk #the wicked king

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marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches · 6 years

Note

Oh my goodness, I didnt see the link to your fanfic account! I am dumb. So ignore my previous ask and instead answer this one for the meme. 13, 3, 14, 1 and 2 for Happiness goes on? (I shall leave reviews on your beautiful fanfic soon I promise, they are good.)

(Hiii, sooo…this whole reply is late because I actually typed up ALL OF THIS last night, and then accidentally “x”-ed out of my browser and lost it all, because I am very very stupid. And then was too tired to retype it up before going to sleep. I hope I remember roughly everything, and apologies for that mistake.)

Oh! Haha! Alright then! Thank you! Don’t feel dumb at all for not realizing which AO3 account is mine or for your previous ask(which for others who are curious, said: “1 - 5 for all your fics! Just talk about your favs!”). I was prepared to choose 3 fics (including “Happiness Goes On” since that’s definitely the one I’m most proud of, so I guess that’s closest to a “favorite” right?), and go through the first 5 questions for each, though I won’t lie and say it wouldn’t have taken some time to answer.

BUUUT…since you said to scrap that first ask, I’ll answer these individual ones for “Happiness Goes On.” And your compliment and promise for a future review means SO goddamn much, thank you sincerely.

(WARNING / REMINDER: This is about my fic that deals with the subject of child molestation, and I do reference that a little bit in this reply. Don’t read further if it makes you uncomfortable, which I entirely understand and respect.)

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13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

HA! Well, American Pie obviously, for a majority of it. While brainstorming / writing / editing the epilogue? A lotta Billy Joel. ;)

The idea to use American Pie bounced into my brain when it came on the radio at the thrift shop where I volunteer, one of the rare times my own music speaker battery died. Usually a disaster, because our store radio is pretty crappy, but the sound quality wasn’t too bad that day, and I rediscovered how much I love that song and ‘Why isn’t this on my ipod again?’. Listening to the lyrics, I realized how much some of them fit the Guardians in general, and this story specifically, which I have Gamora mentally note in the fic. I was sitting and casually chatting with the manager while also thinking, ‘Google what year this came out when you get home, but I’m sure it’s the 70′s. Peter would know it, and it could be the Zune. I think it could work.’ I’m proud that I was able to reference the song so many times without actually naming it by title, but I assume most readers knew what it was, it’s just that famous. (I also couldn’t resist the light-hearted joke, later when things calmed down, of Gamora saying “This…is the longest song…I have ever heard.” and Peter smiling without even looking at her and giving a cheeky “I know.”)

In terms of using Billy Joel for the epilogue, I’m just a Billy Joel fanatic. The use of him for this story began just from the We Didn’t Start the Fire joke toward Rocket at the bar (I thought it was clever, Peter!), and later on I saw how The Longest Time fit romantically for Starmora, and some of the lyrics matched the healing themes of the overall story, and I thought ‘Maybe they’ve been playing BIlly Joel since that night; maybe that can be the joke.’ Why shouldn’t his Greatest Hits albums (at least) be on the Zune? I struggled a lot over what song should be the final one Gamora comments on before they switch artists to appease the group. I never specify which romantic Billy Joel song Peter and Gamora slow danced to during their “date night” in that six-week summary, but I like to imagine it was Just the Way You Are. I considered Keeping the Faith or Vienna for the final one, but I thought they deserved something more fun and naughty to analyze this time, so Only the Good Die Young it is. :D

In conclusion, I listened to The Longest Time, and the entire An Innocent Man studio album, a lot (as if I needed an excuse).3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

The portion in italics is my favorite line, but I’m including the entire sentence for context purposes: “She would need to grow used to him viewing Yondu as a caring parent who was extraordinarily protective of his boy, and would have hunted down this pervert to whistle a glowing arrow through her skull.”14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Ohh geez, wow, that one is tough. I don’t know if it’s accurate to say this story was intended to educate, but just to explore the idea with fictional characters. I have no expertise on the subject, and would never claim such, or talk down to those who do. I didn’t intend to create a PSA. I suppose all of the “lessons” for Peter (if they can be called that) I hope all readers already know and agree on (basically a collection of “it wasn’t your fault” and “this doesn’t define you” and “trauma isn’t a competition, someone else suffering worse doesn’t invalidate your experience” and “you should feel comfortable talking about anything without judgement or shame” etc.).

Slightly lesser scale messages, there’s also reminders about the importance of communication, trusting each other, letting the other person speak in an argument, not letting one’s jealousy/instincts/bad mood interfere with fairness, not running away from a fight or staying angry, respecting boundaries and privacy, all that healthy relationship jazz that these two are still figuring out. 1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

This post is already very long, and I could probably talk for hours about the decision-making process for many scenes (of my GotG fics, this took the longest to write and publish, over 2 months), so I’ll try to condense this to a few bullet points that probably don’t fit the “inspired” criteria.

- It was originally going to be in two parts, 4 scenes each, when I thought the epilogue would be much shorter. But as the lil’ wrap-up got longer (because we needed a fluffy conclusion, dammit!), I decided to make it a separate “chapter.”

- I think the concept probably started as one of those strange, angsty “what if?” scenarios I make up in my head at night that I still can’t believe I created into a full-fledged work. I liked the idea of Peter and Gamora having this conversation and her comforting him, but I knew if I was really going to throw it out there for other fans, it had be more balanced with happier moments, too. I just know I was always going to make the offender a woman - both because it would lead to the misunderstanding that she was a past consensual hook-up when Peter was an adult to spark some irritation and jealousy in Gamora, and because it’s realistically different from other sexual assault stories, since women can be pedophiles and child predators too, and they’re just as horrible. :(

- The fanfic idea of “Gamora accidentally starts a fire while trying to cook, and Peter falsely accuses and lashes out at Rocket” was in my head before, but there were two key differences. 1) It was the entire plot, not a light-hearted subplot in the shadows of something bigger, 2) Meredith’s letter was either fully or partially burnt as a result of the fire. By the end Gamora was going to confess it was her fault, that she was trying to surprise Peter by cooking spaghetti, and he would apologize both to her and to Rocket for losing his temper and getting so angry. I hated that idea later and found it too sad (he’s already lost the Walkman and second cassette tape, why would I want him to lose even more from his mother?), and in “Spark My Memory” (the Christmas fic I wrote for “12 Days of Starmora”) the Guardians put his mother’s letter in the photo album gift for Peter, completely safe and unharmed. I like to keep all my fanfics canon-compliant and non-contradictory from each other, so the letter is fine, no burning it.

Yet “Gamora started a fire cooking” still seemed fun to me, as I like the idea that she’s so badass and skilled and intelligent, but failed at something so domestic and simple. Kinda cute. I was so excited to insert it into this, because I think it worked on multiple levels. It’s a driving force for the plot (the reason the team go to the restaurant and they stumble upon that particular waitress), the reason Gamora was already in a bad mood during her fight with Peter, it could be used as a metaphor/comparison for Peter’s anxiety and Gamora’s guilt, it was something for the Guardians to put at a higher priority to tease and mock Gamora for while oblivious to the main story, something for Peter to just break down into giggles over once they changed the subject (because he earned a good laugh after that heartbreaking and vulnerable childhood trauma story), an excuse to give Rocket so many funny lines, an overall silly and sitcommy-style subplot to fall back on, and a sweet “victory!” for Gamora to have (sort of?) conquered by the epilogue. ^_^2: What scene did you first put down?

This is easy. I’ve written all but one (8 out of 9) of my fanfics in order, except for “Just Like Everybody Else.” So ya, I wrote the opening scene first, Baby Groot’s magic trick lesson and Peter’s oh-so-cruel “can only be seen once” deception. I needed to ease readers (and myself) into the angst and heavy shit to follow, and that cute idea had also been in the back of my mind for a while. ^_^

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PHEW, OKAY, ALL RE-TYPED! Thank you again SO MUCH for the lovely ask and wonderful questions, your actual interest and curiosity thrilled me! You see I wasn’t kidding about the incessant babbling. :P

Thank you also for the kudos you left on AO3, and take care!~

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thing-you-do-with-that-thing · 7 years

Text

Everything

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Bela (Talbot) Lafitte, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Jim Murphy.

Pairing: AU Mechanic!Dean x Wife!Reader

Warnings: suspense, language, implied smut, mention of sex, and another one but I putting that in the tags cause I don’t wanna give anything away.

Word Count: 3400ish

A/N: So I have been listening to a lot of James Blunt lately and this song hasn’t been able to leave me alone. When I started thinking about @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog aka mommy Mimi’s romcom fluff challenge it came roaring back. My prompt for Mimi’s challenge was You’re going to be bad for business. I can tell from the movie Moulin Rouge. Because I felt I might have been one of the people that Mimi glared at in her challenge post I chose to challenge the premise of the challenge a bit. It is fluff! I swear! Mimi don’t hurt me :P And also sorry for being a little late.

Thanks to my sweet amazing lil sis Rach aka @mysupernaturalfics for betaing this one.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Dean didn’t hear the customer yelling after him as he rushed through the front of his auto repair shop. He didn’t register his uncle Bobby hollowing from the scrap yard for him to drive safe and that he would be no good to you dead. All Dean could think about was the call he had gotten 2 minutes earlier. A call that he had been expecting but it had still knocked his wind right out of him. He was pale as a ghost as he got in behind the wheel of his 1967 chevy impala. Nothing in that moment mattered to him was getting to you.

Dean’s entire body was on autopilot as he got behind the wheel of his car, pulling into the street and heading towards the hospital. Memories of you were all that occupied his mind. Memories of how his nights had been calmer and sleep filled after you came into his life. Your presence made everything better and sleep wasn’t a task that needed to be conquered anymore. It came as natural as holding you tightly against his body. Memories of how you would be humming in the kitchen every morning before work making him breakfast because you didn’t have to be at the coffee shop until an hour after he had to be at work. He loved wrapping his arms around you from behind and feel you lean back into him. He loved the way you’d always tilt you head, silently asking him for a kiss, which he would happily grant you.

As Dean drove through the streets he knew so well, with his foot heavy on the gas, he couldn’t help but think about all the days he had wasted away from her. You had been his high school sweetheart. You had been his world back then. All through college you had been his rock and true constant. But when Sam had wanted to go to a college across the country Dean had followed his brother. Their parents had died when they were kids and the two of them were inseparable. You had cried the night that Dean left, but you had told him that you understood and you had, even if it had felt as if half your heart was being ripped from your chest and left with him. You had tried to make things work, but Dean had been an idiot not fighting hard enough for the best thing that he ever had. He had been an even bigger idiot for not realizing what he had been losing until it was gone. For the longest of time he saw you every street corner, in every smile of beautiful women that just never measured up to you. You had been the one and Dean had let you slip away. Fate had smiled on him years later when his best friend had set him up on a blind date a couple of years after returning to Kansas. Y/N was long gone or at least so Dean had thought.

“Come on Benny this is stupid,” Dean grumbled at his friend all but pushed him out the door. “I don’t need a damn blind date. I do fine on my own.”

“Really and how long has it been since one date got you a second or a third,” Benny raised an eyebrow at his friend, who just shrugged. He wasn’t really looking for a relationship like that. Dean loved women. He dated a lot, it was just very few of them that made it past the first month line. To be honest he was still not over the one, he had let get away. He would just never admit that fact to anyone. The only one who knew his secret about him was his little brother and that wasn’t because Dean had told it. Sam was just a goddamn mind reader or so it seemed at times.

“So you want me to call the poor girl who is probably already halfway to the restaurant by now?” Benny asked, making Dean groan. He didn’t want that either. He wasn’t out to make anyone feel bad about themselves or ruin their night. Surely Dean could play along with this and give the girl a good time. So he went. Grumbling the entire way just to get it out of his system but he went, only to get the shock of his life.

The girl he was meeting was going to wear a red dress and he would wear a red rose on his tux. The only woman in a red dress in that restaurant was Y/N. His Y/N and it took every ounce of courage Dean could muster to even walk up to your table.

“Hi Y/N/N,” Dean spoke softly, not sure how you would feel about him after all this time or if he even had any right to talk to you at all.

“Dean!” Surprise was written all over your face and it only grew when you saw the rose pinned to his jacket. “Oh.”

Dean nervously ran a hand behind the back of his neck and he lowered his eyes, “I didn’t know, I swear. If you want me to leave then…” he mumbled. Dean felt a jolt of electricity cause through him as you reached out and took his hand, smiling tenderly at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dee. Stay. Actually I hate blind dates and Bela just talked me into it because apparently her husband knew this guy, who could use a real date for once,” you teased and Dean let out a small chuckle as he sat down across from her.

“Really? Cause Benny said his wife had asked him to find a date for this girl who was too busy starting up a new business to go out and have any fun,” Dean winked at you, causing you to blush slightly before mumbling you were going to kill them both.

If you or Dean had ever doubted how you felt about each other after years of being apart, your date confirmed it. You still made his head spin and Dean still caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. You made him laugh and he made you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when your waitress tried to flirt with him. Dean was everything and more than you remembered him to be. You hadn’t even realized how much you had missed him until he offered to walk you home.

Dean was sad the night was almost over but at least you took his hand. Taking him up on his offer to let him join you on your walk back to your place, which apparently wasn’t far. He loved the way your hand still fit in his, like it belonged there and it had never left. His heart skipped a bit when you leaned into him slightly as you walked and he smiled as he realized just how much he still loved you. He hoped that there was still a small chance that you felt the same way.

Dean quietly watched you fiddle with your keys and unlock the door before you turned back to face him. There was no need to tell each other that you had both had a good time, you knew each other too well for that. Still, time had passed and Dean knew he had broken your heart along with his own when he left you behind. He gently tugged your hair behind your ear, smiling when you leaned into his touch and Dean slowly leaned forward.

“Can I kiss you goodnight,” Dean asked you hesitantly, only to have his heart shattered into a million pieces when you shook her head no. Dean quickly took a step back, running his hand nervously behind his neck not sure what to do, other than just leave and cut his losses.

You giggled softly taking a step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, clearly surprising the hell out of him. He had hurt you, but he had never meant too. He had done what he thought was right. You didn’t hold any of it against him. You were both older now and you still loved him with all of your heart.

“I didn’t say I don’t want you to kiss me. Just not goodnight because the night is not over yet,” you sent him an almost shy smile as you watched the realization dawn on him and you giggled when his lips crashed against yours.

You were both laughing, still trying to kiss each other, when you pulled him backwards into your home with you, silently vowing to yourself you’d never let him go again.

Dean managed to smile through his worry as he remembered how dazed he had been for weeks after that. You had been so busy with the opening of your coffee shop, that you had barely gotten any more than stolen moments and late nights at your place when he stopped by unannounced. Yet he had been happy. He remembered the person he had been with you. The person he always wanted to be and you seemed content and relaxed whenever he was around. You were two pieces of the same puzzle finally reunited after having spent years apart.

“Dean! I need to finish up. The customers will be coming soon,” you laughed as he grabbed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face, pulling you into the back office with him, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it. You moaned into his kiss and any objections you had tried to make left you as you wrapped your arms around his neck melting into him completely.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hands roaming your body and his lips moving down your jaw to your neck. It took all of your will power to even attempt to get him off you.

“Dean,” his name came out more as a moan than an objection and Dean smiled knowingly against your skin as he continued his ministrations. “DEAN!” you laughed pushing at his shoulders, when his hands were dangerously close to move up your skirt.

His head fell down against your shoulder with a groan, making you laugh even harder. “You’re trouble.”

“And you are no fun,” Dean smirked, before pressing his lips against yours again. His kiss was more tender and loving this time, not searching for anything else that the joy of kissing you.

“Well, I’ll be a lot of fun later if you help me get the sign up out front,” you grinned pecking his lips, before dashing through the door, letting out a slight squeal when his hand landed with a satisfying smack against your ass.

You twirled around ready to scold him, only to see him grabbing a chocolate muffin of the tray on the counter throwing you a wink as he headed for the front door to do as you had ordered.

“You’re going to bad for business, Winchester. I can tell,” you called after him, making him laugh and you couldn’t help but shake your head with a loving smile on your face. Bad for business or not, you loved him and he belonged in your life.

Dean had barely put the car into park before he was out the door and across the street. He ran through the hospital doors and down the hallways to the right wing. As he was running his mind wandered to the happiest day of his life. The day you had agreed to be his wife.

Dean laid on his back still completely dazed and blissed from the orgasm you had just rode out of him, loving the feel of you still straddling him, with your head resting against his shoulder and his arms wrapped around you.

He groaned a bit when you pulled yourself off him letting you fall down next to him. All thoughts left him as he looked looked over at you. Pure euphoria on your face as you smiled softly at him. Your skin was flushed and your hair a mess. You were absolutely breathtaking and without any thought what so ever the words fell from his lips. “Marry me?”

“What?” a surprise expression washed over your face and Dean wanted to kick himself, but the words were out and he couldn’t stop now. Dean quickly moved off the bed, finding his pants and pulling the ring from his pocket, before moving over to you now sitting up staring at him in confusion. Dean knelt down infront of you opening the box and your hands flew up to cover your mouth as you realized it wasn’t a moment of passion thing.

“Y/N/N. I love you. This wasn’t how I wanted to do this, but your just so damn perfect and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I am sorry for all the time we wasted being apart. I don’t want to wake up another day without you by my side. If you’ll be my wife I promise you I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you. I’ll never leave you again. Baby you’re my everything. Please marry me?” Dean looked up at her, smiling as you nodded.

“Yes. Of course I’ll marry you,” you laughed and Dean slid the ring on your finger, before letting you pull him him back into bed. Dean rolled on top of you, kissing you deeply, pouring all the love and adoration he held for you into it.

“Dean Winchester, did you just propose to me butt naked after sex?” you laughed and Dean couldn’t help but join in.

“Well, you agreed sweetheart. Whatever works right?” he teased kissing you again, before his hands started to roam your still naked body, causing you to moan against your fiancee’s lips.

“Can you tell me where I can find Y/N Winchester,” Dean asked the nurse at the front desk, slightly out of breath from his run and from worrying.

“You’re Dean?” the nurse asked and Dean nodded. “Y/N will be so happy to see you,” the nurse smiled guiding Dean down the hall and into a room that held his angry wife. She was leaning on the bed, her hand squeezing her brother’s so hard it was turning white and Cas’ face was contorted into one of immense pain, but of course you were too stubborn to scream as the contraction hit.

“Hey, look Dean is here,” Cas spoke softly, but clearly relieved the moment he spotted Dean in the door and your eyes shot up and a strained smile spread across your face. Dean felt the tears press behind his eyes. He hated seeing her in pain like this but he was here. You were having his first child. He smiled softly back at you as you spoke.

“You made it,” the relief and joy in your eyes evident and Dean’s smile grew as he nodded a thank you to Cas, who was leaving the room mumbling something about getting a doctor to see to his hand.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Dean smiled as crossed the room, taking your hand in one of his, gently rubbing circles on your back with the other. “What do you need, sweetheart?” Dean asked her, hating he didn’t really know what to do with himself and that he wasn’t able to take your pain away.

“Tell me a story of us. Anything. Just take my mind off this,” you grumbled hitting the bed with your fist as another contraction made you almost scream. Dean held your hand, not caring about the pain you caused him as you squeezed down hard around it. He just started talking. Reminding you of the day he proposed, adding a memory too it he wasn’t sure if you were aware of.

“Did Cas ever tell you I asked for his permission to marry you?” Dean asked her softly and she looked up, surprise written all over her face and her pain all but forgotten. Dean chuckled kissing her cheek. “He told me that you were all he had left and that if I was to hurt you again, he would hunt me down and smite me, whatever than means.”

“Yeah, my brother was always a little odd,” you giggled letting Dean help you back onto the bed, where he sat down behind you, gently messaging you back as he reminded you of you wedding day.

Dean remembered how sad you had been your dad wasn’t there to walk you down the aisle, but luckily for both of you, your brother had stepped up. Cas offered to do it without either of you ever having to ask. Since that day there had been an unspoken bond between Dean and Cas. You were the most important person in both their lives and Cas intrusted your happiness with Dean.

Dean had been so nervous right until the moment he saw you. It looked as if you were floating towards him as you moved down the aisle on Cas’ arm. Dean felt a single tear roll down his cheek but he didn’t care. He barely even noticed the friendly pat Sam placed against his shoulder. His entire attention was on you. He had never seen anything as beautiful and graceful in his life as you and you were all his.

The vows were spoken and you both promised yourselves to one another, both knowing what life without the each other was like. Neither of you wanted to ever go through that ever again. Dean had never been more in love and you had never been happier. The words uniting you forever, had barely left Father Murphy’s mouth before Dean had you wrapped in his arms, kissing your breathless and dizzy, to the roaring applauses of your family and friends.

You had been blind to everyone around you as you stared up into his beautiful green eyes, laughing from happiness as you realized he was yours forever. You were Y/N Winchester and you couldn’t wait to begin the rest of his life with him.

Dean stopped his story once or twice to help you through your contractions, but he managed to keep you somewhat distracted and even smiling once in a while until Dr. Mills told you it was time to push. Your husband never once left your side through the whole thing. He made up stories about the future and your son, causing you to smile through the pain in between pushes. He praised you. Telling you how much he loved you and how proud he was of you, never letting you see how much your pain actually hurt him. Dean felt more useless that he ever had in his life, even if the complete opposite was true. You weren’t sure you could have done this without him. He made it all bearable and knowing he would always be right by your side no matter what life would throw at you, made the thought that you were about to become a mom a whole lot less scary.

A scream rang through the air and you fell back against the pillows, completely exhausted but happier than ever as you newborn son was place on your chest. Your eyes found Dean’s glassy tear filled ones and you instantly reached out for him. Dean, careful not to hurt either of you, sat down next to you on the bed, gently running a finger over his son’s cheek. Completely in awe of this little human, he had helped create. Your eyes teared up looking at him. The love shun from his face as he fought to hold back his tears. Your son was the luckiest little boy in the world to have Dean for a dad.

“We made him,” Dean’s eyes found yours and a smile split across his face with your words.

“Congratulations daddy,” Dean leaned in pressing his lips against yours, pouring all his love for you and your child into that kiss. He would always be there for you. The two of you already made him a better man than he had ever been before and he would never stop trying to be the best husband and father he could be to the two of you. Dean had never felt this happy before in his life and he was going to spend every day making sure you and Josh, knew just how happy you made him.

Dean Tag Team (CLOSED)

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