#OH MY GOD j remember hell park...

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Born Under A Bad Sign

Masterlist

*3rd Person POV*

Dean was on his cell phone, leaning against his car. He was fidgeting, clearly upset. "Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from her?" Dean asked into the phone. "What about Sam? Has he heard anything?" He asked then Ellen replies and he sighs.

"I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here." Dean exclaims. "No, I've called her a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where she went, or why. (Y/n)'s just gone." Dean said, upset, then his cell phone beeps. "Hang on." He said and he holds up his phone and shows another incoming call - (y/n)'s cell. He answers it.

"(Y/n)? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" He asked, panicked. "Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you?" He asked after a few moments. "All right, don't move, I'm on my way." He said while (y/n) hangs up the phone slowly, looking numb. Her knuckles are bloody.

Dean drives to reach (y/n), passing a sign reading TWIN LAKES, while he was on the phone with Sam. "Yeah, I found her. Nah, I got this. J-Just go to the Roadhouse or Bobby's. I'll bring her back." he said and he hangs up.

Minutes later, he arrives at the hotel and parks, then gets out. Inside the motel, he walks frantically down a narrow hallway, checking door numbers until he reaches room 109. He knocks. "(Y/n), it's me. (Y/n)!" Dean shouts and he tries the door - it opens.

Inside, (y/n) hadn't moved, still sitting numbly on one bed. "(Y/n)? Hey." Dean said as he goes over to her. "Hey, Dean." She said in a quiet voice and Dean kneels beside her.

"Are you bleeding?" He asked once he sees her knuckles. "I tried to wash it off." (Y/n) said and Dean sees that her shirt was covered in blood, he gropes at it, searching for a wound. "Oh my God." He whispers.

"I don't think it's my blood." (Y/n) said. "Whose is it?" Dean asked as he looks up at her. "I don't know." She replies. "(Y/n), what the hell happened?" Dean asked, worried and scared, and then (y/n) finally looks up at him. "Dean. I don't remember anything." She said, fear etched over her face.

Some later, Dean returns to the room, carrying a grocery bag. (Y/n) had changed clothes and was looking a little less out of it. "What'd you find out?" She asked him. "You checked in two days ago under the name Richie Sambora. Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan..." Dean said and she scoffs at him.

"Dean." She said, flatly. "Your room's been quiet, nobody's noticed anything unusual." Dean said. "You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?" She asked him. "Yeah. That's what I mean." Dean said.

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?" (Y/n) asked, confused and angry. "I don't know. But you're, you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with." Dean said. "Oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?" (Y/n) asked, panicked.

"(Y/n)..." Dean said, exasperated. "What if this is what John warned you about?" She asked. "Hey, whoa, whoa, come on, let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like, like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked her.

"Just me, you and Sam in that motel room in West Texas, going out to grab some burgers, and..." she said and Dean's brow furrows. "West Texas? That was, that was over a week ago." He said to her. "That's it." (Y/n) said, shrugging, and Dean looks at her, stunned. "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month." She replied.

"Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so..." Dean said and he pulls back the curtain and finds a bloody fingerprint on the window. "Hey." He said and (y/n) looks over at it.

The duo walk outside the motel, it's daylight, but raining. "Recognize anything?" Dean asked her. "Not really." She said as they go towards a parking garage out back. "Wait." She said once she stops. "What?" Dean asked and (y/n) points at the garage.

"I think I was here." She said. "You remember?" Dean asked and she shakes her head. "Not really, it just...feels familiar, you know?" She said and Dean shrugs, and goes to the nearest garage. (y/n) looks over to the second one and points. "Try that one." She said and Dean tugs on the padlock.

"Okay." He mutters and he starts to think of ways to open it. "Wait." said (y/n) and she digs in her pocket, frowning. She pulls out a key and gives Dean a significant look.

Dean opens the padlock with the key, raising his eyebrows at (y/n). He pulls the garage door open to reveal a filthy, beat-up VW Beetle. "Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this." Dean said, disappointed, as (y/n) fidgets. They go into the garage and open both doors of the car, (y/n) on the driver's side. She touches the wheel and shows Dean her stained finger.

"More blood." She said and Dean points. "(Y/n). Back seat." He said and (y/n) reaches down, picks up a blood-stained knife that sticks to the floor of the backseat. She stares at it. "You think I used this on someone?" She asked Dean. "I'm not thinking anything." Dean said.

(Y/n) looks around, rubs the knife handle off on the inside of her jacket while Dean picks up a pack of cigarettes. "Okay now this is disturbing. Come on, (y/n), this couldn't have been you. Had to have been someone else, somebody who, uh..." Dean said and he sniffs the pack. "...smokes menthols." He said as (y/n) digs around and picks up a piece of paper.

"Here. Gas receipt. Few towns over." She said as she holds the receipts up.

Sometime later, they pull up in front of a small gas station and Dean looks over the receipt while (y/n) looks around. "All right. Receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two. You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? God, this looks familiar, deja vu vibes?" Dean asked her and she shakes her head, quietly. "Maybe someone inside'll remember you. Come on." Dean said and they get out of the car.

They go into the convenience store and the clerk looks up in shock, then anger. "You. Outta here now, I'm calling the cops." The clerk yelled and Dean and (y/n) look at him, shocked.

"You talking to her?" Dean asked the clerk, confused but also angry as he didn't like the tone this guy was giving her. "Yeah, I'm talking to her. Bitch comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging." The clerk said and Dean glares at the clerk. 

"Okay, buddy. One: watch your mouth. Two: this girl? You sure?" Dean asked and the clerk nods as Dean turns to (y/n). "You're drinking malt liquor?" He asked. "Not after she whipped the friggin' bottle at my head." The clerk yelled.

"This girl?" Dean said, still confused. "What, am I speaking Urdu?" The clerk asked, annoyed. "Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything --" (y/n) tried to explain but the clerk shakes his head.

"Tell your story walkin', girlie. Po-po will be here in five." He said as he picks up the reciever. "Wait, wait, put the phone down." Dean said as the clerk stops then Dean turns to (y/n). "(Y/n), go wait in the car." He said and she looks at him, confused. "But Dean --" she tried to argue but Dean yells. "Go wait in the car!"

She sighs and then leaves as Dean turns to the clerk. "Okay, look, man. I just want to talk to you, that's it. Okay?" He said and the clerk hangs up. "Now, when she took off yesterday, which way did she go?" Dean asked him.

"Why don't you ask her?" The clerk asked, annoyed. "'Cause I'm asking you. Now please, you'd be doing me a huge favor." Dean said. "Oh, do you a favor? Well, that is what I live for. You know, your girlfriend didn't pay for the booze. Okay? Or the smokes, which she also illegally lit up." The clerk said and Dean's eyes widen a bit.

"You saw her smoking?" He asked him. "Yeah. Chick's a chimney." The clerk said and Dean clears his throat and pulls his wallet out, then places some bills on the desk. "This, uh, ought to cover it." He said and the clerk looks at the money for a moment. "Hmm. It's, uh, it's coming back to me now. She took two packs." He said and Dean sighs as he pulls out more money. "Of course she did." He mutters and he pats the man.

"She went north. Route 71, straight out of town." the clerk replied and Dean nods, then grabs two candy bars and leaves with a smirk.

Dean was driving down a dark road, while (y/n) was staring out the window. "What's going on with you, (y/n)? Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you. I mean, I've seen you drunk...and you're more of the happy and giggling type of drunk." Dean said as (y/n) sits up, straighter.

"Dean, wait, right here. Turn down that road." She said, quickly. "What?" Dean asked. "I don't know how I know, I just do." She said and Dean turns down a back road and onto a private property. It is a large house with plenty of emergency lighting and security cameras outside.

"Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises." (Y/n) said as she looks over the house. "Should we knock?" Dean asked. "Yeah. I guess." She said and they get out of the car and head to the front door.

Dean knocks on the front door while (y/n) pokes around the corner. "Hey Dean." She said as she waves her flashlight at a window. It's broken, the ledge covered in shattered glass. "I'm surprised the cops didn't show. Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm." Dean said as (y/n) finds a disabled alarm on the wall. "Yeah, you would." (Y/n) said as Dean looks at it then at her.

They go into the house to see that the floor is covered in broken glass and scattered items. In a back room, they come across a body on the floor. "Hit the lights." Dean said and (y/n) turns the lights on as Dean kneels behind the body.

He places a hand on it and turns it over; it is a middle-aged man with a deeply cut throat; he is dead, his eyes staring. Dean puts a hand over his own mouth while (y/n) looks horrified. "Dean, I did this." She whispered, devastated. "We don't know that." Dean said, firmly.

"What else do you need? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood --" (y/n) exclaims. "I don't know, (y/n), why don't you tell me?!" Dean asked her, angrily, but then he calms down. "Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a reason, you know; self-defense, uh, he was, he was a bad son of a bitch, something!" Dean said as he pats down the body. "He doesn't have any ID." Dean said and (y/n) looks at a closet.

"I need your lockpick." She said to him. "What?" Dean asked her. "I need your lockpick." She said again and he hands her his lockpick. She takes the lockpick and opens the double-door closet in the room.

Inside the room, one wall is covered in firearms, the others in charts and clippings. "Holy....Either this guy's a Unabomber-" he said. "Or a hunter." (Y/n) finished as guilt started to grow in her chest. "Dean, I think I killed a hunter." She said, shocked and Dean looks up and sees a security camera near the ceiling. "Let's find out." He said, as he points at the camera.

Later, (y/n) was sitting in front of the desktop computer, Dean standing behind as she cues up the security tape. "Here we go." Dean said.

On the tape, (y/n) was fighting the same man who lies dead on the floor behind them. The fight moves off camera and (y/n) drags the man back into the frame; she kneels, pulls the man up against her legs, and slits his throat. (Y/n) stares in shock as Dean pulls back from the screen and stands straight, looks at (y/n), who looks down. 

Minutes later, (y/n) was still sitting at the computer desk, staring at a page in her hand. Dean bustles around behind her, cleaning up. "How do you erase this? Huh?" Dean asked but (y/n) doesn't reply. "(Y/n), come on, I need your help." Dean said, desperate.

"I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him." (Y/n) said, in fear. "Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?" Dean said and (y/n) holds up the paper. "His name was Steve Wandell. This is a letter from his daughter." She said, tearfully.

Dean looks from (y/n) to the letter, then makes a decision. He grabs the CPU, lifts it above his head, and smashes it to the floor, stomping it with his boots for good measure. Dean looks at (y/n), still sitting there despondent, tosses a rag to her. "Wipe your prints, then we go." He orders and she looks at him then nods.

Later that evening, (y/n) precedes Dean into the motel room. "All right, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror." Dean said while (y/n) folds her arms across her chest, upset. "Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it." Dean said but she doesn't say anything. "(Y/n), say something!" Dean exclaims and she turns to him.

"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did." She said, upset. "Maybe." Dean said and (y/n) scoffs. "Okay? Hey, we don't know...shapeshifter!" Dean said, looking for anything. "Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion..." she said.

"Yeah, but it wasn't you! All right? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you." Dean yells at her. "Well, I think it was." (Y/n) said as she sits down on the bed. "I think maybe more than you know." She mutters.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked and she sighs. "For the last few weeks I've been having...I've been having these feelings." She replied and Dean walks to the bed to sit opposite of her. "What feelings?" He asked, softly.

"Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse." She said, sadly. "You never told me this." Dean said and she gives a slight shake of her head. "I didn't want to scare you." She said and Dean nods, slaps her knee, then stands up. "Well, bang-up job on that." He said.

"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me and for Sam. And we know that he's turned other children into killers before, too." (Y/n) said. "No one can control you but you." Dean said and (y/n) scoffs.

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming..." she stops. "What?" Dean asked. "Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I gotta face up to who I am." She said. "I didn't mean this!" Dean exclaims, angrily.

"But it's still true. You know that. John knew that too. That's why he told you, if it ever came to this..." (y/n) said and Dean shakes his head. "Shut up, (y/n)." He said, firmly. "Dean, you promised him." (Y/n) said to him. "No. Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?" Dean asked, desperately.

"Yeah there is." (Y/n) said and she takes a handgun from her duffel, and shoves it at Dean. "I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you. Or Sam." She said as a tear runs down her face.

Dean looks down at the gun (y/n) is handing him. "You won't. Whatever this is, you can fight it." Dean said to her and her eyes starts to tear up. "No. I can't. Not forever. Here, you gotta do it." (Y/n) said and they stare at each other for a long moment; then (y/n) grabs Dean's right hand and places the gun in it.

Dean doesn't move, but just stares as (y/n) in shock, who was shaking and upset. "You know, I've tried to hard to keep you safe." He said, tears welling up in his eyes, and she nods. "I know." She said and Dean shakes his head. "I can't. I'd rather die." He said and he drops the gun on the bed and shoulders past (y/n).

"No. You'll live." (Y/n) said and she picks up the gun as Dean turns to face her. "You'll live to regret this." She growls and she pistol-whips Dean, who falls to the floor unconscious.

An insistent knocking wakes Dean up. He looks around to realize that he is on the floor of the motel room; the motel manager, who has been knocking, opens the door. "Hey. It's past your checkout." The manager said as Dean gets up, groggily.

"What?" Dean asked. "It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room." The manager said and Dean looks over to see an embarrassed businessman with a hooker. "Yeah, I'll bet they do." Dean mutters then he turns to the manager. "What time is it?" He asked. "Twelve-thirty." The manager replied.

"That girl who was with me, have you seen her?" Dean asked him. "Yeah, she left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with her, because now I'm gonna have to charge you extra." The manager said and Dean rolls his eyes in annoyance as he digs in his wallet. "Oh, son of a..." Dean mutters. "It's just policy, sir." The manager said as Dean hands him the money.

"I need to use your computer." said Dean. "Now, why would I let you use my computer?" The manager asked.

Later, the manager was counting a stack of cash, as Dean talks on the phone behind him, in front of a desktop computer. "Hi, uh, so sorry to bother you, but uh, my daughter snuck out of the house last night and, uh, went to a Justin Timberlake concert." Dean said then he pauses for a moment before he answers. "What? Yeah. No, Justin is quite the triple threat. Uh, anyway, she's not back yet, and, and I'm just, I'm starting to worry." He said.

"Right. Yeah, I know, girls just wanna have fun. But see, (y/n) is uh uh uh, a diabetic, and uh, if she doesn't get her insulin, I just, I have to find her. Please, I'm begging you." Dean pleads as he types on the computer and end up on the website. "Yeah, no no no, I"m on the website right now, I just need to activate the GDS in her cell phone." He said and he enters a password; his GPS screen shows the name Dean J. Mahogoff, mobile phone number 785-555-2804

"Yeah, right there. Duluth, Minnesota. Yeah, that is a long way to go for a concert. I appreciate your help." He said and he hangs up.

In Minnesota, at a bar, Jo begins scrubbing the bar and saying goodnight to some customers. "Good night, thank you." She calls out as (y/n) enters and clears her throat while Jo had her back to her.

"Sorry, we're closing up." Jo said. "How about just one for the road?" (Y/n) asked and Jo turned to face her, not looking welcoming. "Well, you're about the last person I'd expect to see." Jo said and (y/n) gives a small smile at this.

"Well, I guess I'm full of surprises. So can I get a beer?" She asked. "Sure. One beer." Jo said and she brings a bottle of beer over and sets it down on the bar firmly, then turns away, bustling over cleaning up the bar. 

"So how'd you find me?" Jo asked. "Well, uh, it's kind of what we do, you know?" (Y/n) said. "Speaking of we, where's Dean and Sam?" Jo asked her. "Couldn't make it." (Y/n) replied as she comes up tot he bar.

"So what're you doing here, (y/n)? I mean we didn't exactly part on the best of terms." Jo said and (y/n) nods. "Right. Um, well, that's why I'm here." She said as had takes off her jacket. "I kinda -- I wanted to see if we could square things, you know?" She said.

As (y/n) takes off her jacket, Jo notices a circular burn mark with a short line through it on (y/n)'s forearm. "That looks like it hurts." Jo said as she gestures towards the mark. "No. Nah, just, just had a run-in with a hot stove." (Y/n) said, brushing it off.

"So you were saying something about squaring things?" Jo asked. "Yeah. Um...Look, I know how you feel about my dad and John. And I can't say I blame you. They were obsessed--consumed with hunting. And they didn't care who got caught in the cross-fire. And I guess that included your dad. But that was my father. That's not me." (Y/n) said to her.

"What about Dean? Or Sam?" Jo asked. "Oh Sam is nothing like his dad. But Dean's more like John than Sam, but h--" she stops once she sees the look on Jo's face. (Y/n) chuckles a bit. "Boy. You're really carrying a torch for Dean, aren't you?" She asked and Jo scoffs, uncomfortably.

"I'll take that as a yes. It's too bad." (Y/n) said as she smiles tightly. "'Cause see, Dean, he likes you, sure, but not in the way you'd want. I mean, maybe as kind of a...a little sister, you know? But--romance, that's just out of the question, he--he kind of thinks you're a schoolgirl, you know?" (Y/n) said then she let's out a laugh while Jo raises an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Jo, I -- I'm telling you 'cause I care." (Y/n) said. "That's real kind of you, (y/n)." Jo said. "I mean it." (Y/n) said and she places a hand on Jo's shoulder. "I care about you, like a sister." (Y/n) said, a smile that didn't seem like her own, and Jo immediately felt uncomfortable.

"Maybe you should leave." Jo said to her, firmly, and (y/n)'s smile falters then she looks down. "Okay." (Y/n) said and she removes her hand off of Jo's shoulder and stands to leave. Jo turns to face the bar, leaning on it heavily, when suddenly (y/n) reappears, grabbing her from behind and manhandling her.

"(Y/n), get off me! (Y/n)! Get off me! Let go!" Jo shouts, frantically. She closes her right hand on a beer bottle, but before she can hit (y/n) with it, (y/n) grabs her wrist and slams it onto the bar, shattering the bottle. 

"Jo, Jo, Jo." (Y/n) said, trying to calm her but it wasn't working. (Y/n) shoves Jo around until she faces the bar and pins her there, left hand over her wrist.

"(Y/n), no! No! Please! Please!" Jo screams before (y/n) slams her forehead into the bar, knocking Jo out, and she lifts her carefully to lie on the bar. "It didn't have to be this way. Maybe it did." (Y/n) mutters before she gives an evil grin.

Sometime later, Jo begins to wake up to (y/n) tying her up in a sitting position to a wide wooden post. "What the hell is going on? What are you doing?" Jo asked. "So what exactly did your mom tell you about how your dad died?" (Y/n) asked her.

"You're not (y/n)." Jo growls and (y/n) let's out a small chuckle. "Don't be so sure about that. Answer the question." (Y/n) said but Jo says nothing. (Y/n) sighs heavily and goes around to the other side; she sits in front of her, leaning in, her expression shifting to one of open concern. She pulls out a large knife and strokes her face with it.

"Come on. It's me. You can tell me anything, you know that. Answer. The question." (Y/n) said, slowly. "Fine." Jo growls. "Fine." (Y/n) said. "Our dads were in California: Devil's Gate Reservoir. They were setting a trap for some kind of hellspawn. John and (father's name) were hiding, waiting, and my dad was bait." Jo replied amd (y/n) laughs.

"That's just like my dad and John. Oh, I'll bet they dangled Bill like meat on a hook. Then what?" (Y/n) asked her as she gets up and goes around to stand behind Jo. "The thing showed up. John got too eager, jumped out too soon, got my dad exposed, out in the open. (Father's name) tried to stop John but he was too late. The thing turned around...and killed him." Jo said as (y/n) leans in from behind Jo.

"Hmm. Not quite." (Y/n) said and Jo's brow furrows. "What?" She asked. "What? Oh. See, it hurt him. It didn't kill him. You really don't know the truth, do you? I bet your mom doesn't either." (Y/n) said and she sits facing her again, and leans in close.

"Know what?" Jo asked. "You see, Bill...was all clawed up. Was holding his insides in his hands. He was gurgling and...praying to see you and Ellen one more time. My dad pleaded to John about getting Bill some help but John... killed Bill. Put him out of his misery like a sick dog." (Y/n) said and Jo begins to sob.

"You're lying." Jo said, sobbing. "I'm not. It's true." (Y/n) said the she leans into Jo's ear. "Dean's daddy shot your daddy in the head..." (y/n) said in a quiet sing song voice. "How could you know that?" Jo asked her. "I hear things." (Y/n) said Nd she stands up and stabs the knife into the pillar, just above head level.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Jo asked her, tearfully. "Like Daddy like daughter. You're bait. Open up." (Y/n) said and she shoves a knotted rag in Jo's mouth and ties it around her neck. "That's a girl." (Y/n) said then the door bursts open and Dean enters, gun out.

"(Y/n)!" He yells and (y/n) grabs the knife from the pillar, her calm expression shifting to one of desperate panic, and places the knife at Jo's throat. "I begged you to stop me, Dean." (Y/n) yells, sounding more like herself. "Put the knife down, dammit." Dean shouts at her.

"I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You'd be doing me a favor! Shoot me." (Y/n) said, frantically, as she turns to face Dean, arms spread. "Shoot me!" She shouts.

Dean stares at her, gun steady, then he looks at Jo out of the corner of his eye. "No, (y/n), come on." Dean said and he turns away, lowering the gun. "What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that soft-hearted towards me that you'd rather let Jo die?" (Y/n) asked and Dean turns suddenly, flinging water from a flask at (y/n); the water hisses and steams as it strikes her and she screams in pain. 

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!" Dean yells and (y/n) raises her head; her eyes are the solid black of a demon's. Dean flings more holy water at her, making her growl. Then she turns and runs, bursting through a window and fleeing. Dean takes the knife and cuts Jo free then she pulls the gag out of her mouth as Dean runs towards the shattered window. 

"She was possessed?!" Jo exclaims and Dean turns and stares at her for a moment, then leaps through the window. "Dean!" Jo shouts but Dean was gone.

Dean and Possessed-(y/n) stalk each other through a dim, crowded warehouse, each with a handgun. During the following they never see each other directly, instead hiding stealthily behind piles and boxes and shouting at each other. "So who are you?" Dean asked her. "I got lots of names." (Y/n) replied.

"You've been in (y/n) since she disappeared, haven't you?" Dean asked and (y/n) let's out an evil chuckle. "You shoulda seen your face when you thought she murdered that guy. Pathetic." She spat. "Why didn't you kill me? You had a dozen chances." Dean said. "Nah, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that? You see, this was a test. I was gonna posses Sam but I thought (y/n) would be better. Wanted to see if I could push you far enough to waste (y/n). Should've known you wouldn't have the sack. Anyway. Fun's over now." (Y/n) said.

"Well, I hope you got your kicks. 'Cause you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that." Dean growls. "How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your darling (y/n)." She said as Dean was putting his gun away then pulls out the flask of holy water. "See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You and every other hunter I can find. One look as (y/n)'s dewey, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door." Possessed-(y/n) said and she gets up, heading outside; Dean follows.

They are on an open-air dock. Once Dean is out in the open, looking around at the water. (Y/n) steps out, takes aim, and shoots Dean, hitting him in the shoulder. Dean is knocked into the water with a splash and (y/n) stalks to the edge and peers over where Dean fell; not seeing him in the water, she smiles.

Little later, Jo is walking quickly through the docks, a flashllight in one hand and her cell phone in the other; she's calling Dean, and his voicemail picks up. "This is Dean. Leave a message." His voice said and Jo hangs up the phone, with a sigh of frustration, and continues searching.

Moments later she calls again, and this time hears Dean's ringtone coming from below her, by the water. She runs down to where he is lying unconscious at the bottom of a ramp. "Dean! Dean!" She exclaims and he wakes with a groan, coughing; he's completely wet. "Take it easy." Jo said to him as he shudders and groans in pain.

"Where's (y/n)?" Dean asked with a groan. "I don't know, I've been looking for you. Come on, get up." Jo said and she helps him to stand, and he leans on her heavily, groaning, clutching his shoulder, as they walk back to the bar.

Dean was seated at a table, gripping the edge with his right hand as Jo digs the bullet out of his left shoulder. He groans loudly. "Don't be a baby!" Jo said to him. "God!" Dean groans as she continues to dig into his shoulder. "Almost. All right, got it. Got it." She said as she drops the bloodstained bullet in a glass of clear alcohol.

Dean takes a few healthy swigs from a bottle of whiskey. "God, you're a butcher." Dean said. "You're welcome." Jo said, sarcastically. "All right, are we done?" Dean asked. "Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help (y/n) if you're bleeding to death." Jo said. Dean takes another swig as Jo continues layering gauze and tape over the wound.

"So, how did you know? That she was possessed?" Jo asked him. "Uh, ah, I didn't, I just knew that it couldn't have been her." Dean replied and Jo looks down.

"Hey, Dean." She said.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"I know demons lie, but...do they ever tell the truth too?" Jo asked and Dean looks over at her. "Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head." He said as he takes another swig. "Why do you ask?" Dean asked Jo gives a nervous look at him before she takes a deep breath.

"Nothing. Doesn't matter. So do you have any idea where she's headed to next?" She asked him. "Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so...closest one I know lives in South Dakota." Dean said. "Okay good, I'm done. Let's go." Jo said and Dean starts Dean stand up 

"Yeah. You're not coming." Dean said. "The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now." Jo said. "I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow me and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be." Dean said and he turns to leave.

"Wait." Jo said and he turns back, and she hands out a prescription pill bottle. "Here. Take these, they'll help with the pain." She said. "Thanks. I'll call you later, okay?" Dean said and he leaves the bar. "No you won't." Jo mutters to herself.

That night, Dean drives down a dark stretch of road and dials a number on his cell.

Elsewhere, a phone rings several times, until (y/n) cuts the phone line running outside the house.

Dean looks at his phone and sighs. "Dammit." He mutters then he dials another number. "Hey, Sam. It's me. We've got a problem." He said.

(Y/n) walks slowly up the steps to the house and knocks on the door. A second later, Bobby opens it and grins then laughs with pleasure. "(Y/n)!" He said as (y/n) bares her teeth in a smile. "Hey, Bobby." She said.

"It's been a while." Bobby said and (y/n) grins sheepishly. "Well, come on in." Bobby said and she enters slowly, glancing at the ceiling, and Bobby shuts the door behind her.

They walk together into his study, which is dimly lit and covered wall to wall with stacks of books and papers. "So what brings you?" Bobby asked. "Working a job nearby, and thought I'd stop in and say hey." (Y/n) said.

"Well, where's the boys?" Bobby asked and (y/n) chuckles. "Oh Sam's at a library, researching, and Dean...probably holed up somewhere with a girl and a twelve pack." (Y/n) said as Bobby goes into the back room.

(Y/n), left alone, eyes the ceiling again. "Oh yeah? She pretty?" Bobby asked as (y/n)'s eyes cloud over black for a moment. "You ask me, he's in way over his head." She said, then her eyes go back to normal as Bobby returns with a beer in each hand; he hands one to (y/n).

"Well, it's good to see you." Bobby said and he raises his bottle. "To John and (father's name)." Bobby said. "To Dad. And John." She said and they toast and swig the beer.

(Y/n) turns to look up at the ceiling again but as she swallows the beer she spews suddenly, choking, falling to her hands and knees, coughing and gagging painfully.

Bobby sips his beer, unconcerned. "What'd you do?!" (Y/n) asked in a panic. "A little holy water in the beer. (Y/n) never would have noticed. But then, you're not (y/n) are you. Don't try to con a con man." Bobby said and he slams his fist into (y/n)'s face, knocking her out.

Later, (y/n)-demon is tied to a chair, before a fire and under the Devil's trap. Dean smacks her in the face to wake her up, Sam standing behind him. "Hey." Dean said to her and (y/n) looks up and sees the painted Devil's Trap. Dean and Sam look up too.

"Dean. Back from the dead. Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach." (Y/n) sneers then she turns to Sam. "Hello, Sammy." She said with a smile. "How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" Dean asked. "Oh, careful, now. Wouldn't want to bruise this beautiful face." (Y/n) said.

"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt (y/n) much." Dean said as Sam picks up a bucket. "You, on the other hand..." Dean said as Sam tosses a bucketful of holy water on (y/n)-demon, who sizzles and roars. 

"Feel like talking now?" Dean asked, angrily. "(Y/n)'s still my meat puppet. I'll make her bite off her tongue." (Y/n) said, spiteful. "No, you won't be in her long enough. Sam." Dean said and Sam begins to read in Latin while Bobby stands on the side, watching.

"See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up? You're not getting (y/n). And you're not getting Sam, either. You understand me? 'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first." Dean yells as (y/n)-demon struggles painfully, then throws back her head and laughs maniacally. Sam cuts off in surprise while Bobby looks at this, confused.

"You really think that's what this is about? The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan." (Y/n) spat and Sam continues reading but it seems to have no effect on (y/n)

"Oops. Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." she said then she lowers her head and begins growling in Latin. As she does this, the fire behind her flares and the room shakes as she continues. 

"This isn't going like I pictured! What's going on, guys?" Dean asked and Sam goes over to (y/n) and sees the mark in her forearm. Bobby's eyes widen as he comes over and gets a closer look at the arm as (y/n) continues to chant. "It's a binding link! It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside (y/n)'s body!" Bobby shouts.

"What the hell do we do?" Sam asked him, frightened and worried. "I don't know!" Bobby yells and (y/n) throws back her head and screams.

The shaking walls and ceilings begin to crack, breaking the protective circle. (Y/n)-demon's eyes are black as she lowers her head. "There. That's better." She said and she jerks her head left and Bobby and Sam go flying. She jerks her head right and Dean goes flying, landing heavily against the far wall.

The holy water flask falls from Dean hand and he flinches in pain from his shoulder. (Y/n) rips free of the restraints and stalks over to Dean. "You know when people want to describe the worse possible thing? They say it's like hell." She said as she kneels in front of Dean, fisting her left hand in Dean's shirt and clocking him hard with a right jab.

Dean grabs onto (y/n)'s shirt with his right hand. "You know there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um..." she said then she hits Dean again as she thinks. "Well, it's like hell. Even for demons." She said and she hits him again as Dean becomes groggy and starts bleeding heavily from his nose.

"It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear." (Y/n) said as she hits Dean again; then she grabs his head, holding it steady. "And you sent me back there." She growls and Dean realized who was possessing (y/n).

"Meg." Dean sneers and (y/n) smirks. "No. Not anymore. Now I'm (y/n)." She said as she hits him one more time; then digs her right thumb into Dean's bullet wound, making him growl in pain. "By the way. I saw your Dad there - he says howdy." She said as she digs into Dean's wound further and he screams out.

Dean tries to pull (y/n)'s hand away, groaning in pain. "All that I had to hold onto, was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you. Nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect." She said as she shoves Dean's grasping hand away. "But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down...you know that you can't save your brother or your little girlfriend. They'd have been better off without you." (Y/n) said and she rears back to hit Dean but suddenly her fists stops.

She turns to look at her fist and tries to move it but it was like an invisible force was preventing her. "What--" she starts to ask when she leans her head forward and let's out a groan then clenches her teeth. "Stop...stop it." She growls to herself and Dean stares at her, realizing (y/n) was trying to fight back. "Stop. It!" (Y/n) growls, loudly, then Sam grabs her arm while Bobby comes up and presses a hot poker into the mark on (y/n)'s arm.

She screams in pain, then screams again as black demon smoke billows out of her and up the chimney. Dean pulls himself up painfully as (y/n) falls back, then comes to herself and looks around. "(Y/n)?" Dean said and she looks over at him.

"Dean! I-I'm so sorry. I-I-I tried to fight back..." she said, breathless as Sam kneels next to her. "It's okay." Dean said as he starts to collapse and Sam looks her over.

*(y/n)'s POV*

I was sitting behind Bobby's table with an icepack on my arm, Dean is on the other side of the table groggily holding an icebag to his face. "By the way, you really look like crap, Dean." I said, cautiously. "Yeah, right back atcha." Dean remarks as Bobby walks in slowly, looking concerned.

"What is it, Bobby?" Sam asked him. "You three ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?" Bobby asked and Dean and I share a look. "Why do you ask?" Dean asked him. "Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house." Bobby said and I swallow then look down.

"You wouldn't know anything about that." Bobby said as he looks, mainly, at me and Dean. "No sir, never heard of the guy." Dean said and I turn to him. "Dean--" I said but Dean turns to me. "Good. Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?" Bobby said to us and we nod.

"We better hit the road. If, uh, you can remember where we parked the car." Dean said to me as we stand up. "Here. Take these." Bobby said and he hands all three of us a small metal charm.

"What are they?" Sam asked him. "Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya." Bobby said as he looks between the three of us. "That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks." Dean said. "You're welcome. You three be careful now." Bobby said. "You too." I said as I smile at Bobby. Bobby looks back at me seriously, not returning the smile, and I frown and look away.

At the door, Dean tosses the icebag back to Bobby, who smiles a little at him. 

That night, Dean was driving down a dark stretch of highway. Sam was in the backseat and I was in the passenger seat, frowning quietly. "You okay? (Y/n)? Is that you in there?" Dean asked me, concerned.

"I was awake for some of it, Dean. I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes. I-I tried to fight for control but...I couldn't." I said, sadly. "That must have been awful." Sam said, sadly. "That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too." I exclaimed then I turned to Dean. "But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot." I said to him.

"It was the right move, (y/n). It wasn't you." Dean said. "Yeah, this time. What about next time?" I asked him. "(Y/n), when Dad told me...that I might have to kill you or Sam, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do I'm gonna save you." Dean said and I look over at him and give a small smile towards him.

After a pause, Dean laughs softly. "What?" I asked him. "Nothing." Dean said. "Dean, what?" I asked and Dean smirks. "(Y/n), you -- you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week." Dean said then he laughs then Sam chuckles as well.

My frown cracks, and I laugh with them. "That's pretty naughty. And kinda hot." Dean said and I, playfully, scoff at him then punch his un-injured shoulder. "Shut up!" I said and we laugh as we drive on.

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

[candiedapplez]

I ask you all of the questions from that one reblog. Good luck/nf/j

Omg ok this will be a while then tehehehehehehhe im not complaining though!!!! Heres the questions so u can look at the questions and the answers!

1.this one is OBVIOUS!!! A-90 and Opheebop!!! DUUUUUUUH!

2.lighter. Ive never used a match before

3.ew no!!! I don't want buggies crawling in my room while im sleeping!!!! However i have before!

4. Aaaaaa ive never really gotten into that stuff so i cant really give an answer-

5. A really dark brown!!

6. Oops i did that again???

7. Well idk ive used both and they are both work really well! however i do think scrunchies are safer for your hair, i use normal hair ties more often because scrunchies are more bulky and yeah i dont prefer that, but both are great!

8. Six. I have six.

9.NONE! COFFE IS GROSS BLEEEEEEGH!!

10. Ofc!!

11. Does drawing count?

12. Good day!!!!! I havent cried yet so-

13. Not too long ago, like an hour ago actually. I had pizza! (Incase u were wondering)

14. HELL YEAH!!!

15. Nope and i never want to be 😗

16. NoooooOoOoO-

17. Nope i have perfect vision muah

18. I DONT WANNA SAY TEHE! (Sry)

19. Yea ofc!!! But they probably wont turn out good…

20. Soda…. Ive never seen or heard anyone say pop before….

21. Plushies!!!! I have a unicorn plush my old friend (we dont talk anymore since she moved) gave me for my 7th bday!!!! Yes i remember when, yes i still have it! And its in perferct condition!!! Also there was this one kid who ig had a crush on my and he gave me a basket full of stuff for valentines day and i still have said basket-

22. I have no clue what this means? I guess sensitive?

23. Love it!!!!!

24. Eating :] (and joking abt pushing each other off probably/JOKE/JOKE/JOKE/JOKE)

25. Aaaa i use all of them but i use lotion most so ig lotion?

26. Idk what to say for this one aaaaaagh

27. Like 5 i think? Ive been getting better with my sleep time!!!!

28. Not anymore, our school last year said we could take them off, however i was SO insecure about my face (still am, but not as much as before) so i would wear it every single day. If i showed up to school without one people got surprised. I stopped wearing them this year, however.

29. Hot????

30. THE FUCKING WATER BOTTLES!!!!

31. Theres a lot, i dont wanna get into it 😵‍💫

32…… is that a thing? People have favorite towels??

33. Hm my school took us on a field trip to a high school so we can see animals if that counts… (i have pictures btw if u wanna see them! We saw pigs, sheep, cows and bunny! I didnt take pic of bunny tho 😢)

34. LITERALLY EVERY SIX THE MUSICAL SONG HOLY SHIT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (the only ones i might mess up on are aywd and idnyl bc aywd is long and i dont listen to idnyl often)

35. Pst!!

36. Only once! My username used to have a 0 between the words (Candied0applez) but i changed it bc it made it sound like i candied no apples… but i was originally going to be called caramelapplez but i thought candied sounded better heheh)

37. The friend i mentioned earlier i met first day of kindergarden, her name is Alana, and this other girl Maya i met before kinder! We met eachother at a park and when we walked home we found out we were neighbors so we instantly became besties! (We still are to this day but she lives 30 mins away so i dont see her often-(

38. All…?

39. Sometimes!

40. Ice cream!!!

41. Empty. Coffee is gross

42. Hahahah yt, roblox and occasionally twitter!

43. HAND IT OVER BITCH!

44. Myself/j fucking donald trump 🤮👈🖕

45. NO ☺️

46. Oh god i dont watch any 🫢

47. | v

this actually was to the other girl i mentioned earlier! Maya! I found baby pictures of us when we were in 2nd-3rd grade and i showed her today!!!

48. Never and i dont plan on ever!

49. Never tried

50. GO AHEAD I GET SO EXCITED WHEN IM TAGGED IN SOMETHING AAAAA!

omg that took forever!!! Gosh i dont mind though!!! These were fun questions! Aaaaaaaa i enjoyed that tyty!

[hintofelation99]

Jason Chaperons Damian's Field Trip

Damian and Jason in the Batcave trying to murder each other

Jason: I'm going to kill you demon brat!

Damian: Ha! I'd like to see you try Todd!

Fighting continues for the next two days

Bruce: That's it! Jason, Damian, no more fighting. You two are going to bond even if it kills you!

Jason: Again?

Bruce: Not the time Jason!

Damian, rolling his eyes: And how exactly do you expect me to bond with this barbarian?

Bruce: A trip to the art museum.

Damian and Jason look confused.

Bruce: Damian's class is going to the Gotham art museum next Friday. I was going to chaperon, but since you both decided to try and stab each other in public I have some PR matters to attend to. So, Jason will chaperon.

Damian: That is absolutely ridiculous father. Is it not enough that I am already forced to see subpar art with snot nosed brats? Now I have to take the zombie?!

Jason: Watch it brat!

Damian: Tt

Jason and Damian glare at each other.

Bruce: No, your brother is taking you to see world renowned art with your peers.

Jason: C'mon Bruce, world renowned? It's the Gotham art museum.

Bruce, glaring: Fine. Country renowned.

Jason raises his eyebrows.

Bruce: Don't push it. I'll call the school and let them know that you're taking my place.

--> The Next Friday <--

Jason: Damian! Get your ass down here!

Damian: I am right beside you Todd.

Jason: Where's your tie? And your blazer? Where's your backpack?

Damian: Calm down Todd. I have never been late for school and I do not plan to deviate from that today.

Jason: Whatever. Just be ready in the next five minutes, I want to get coffee first and we are not going to be late.

Damian: Pennyworth has already brewed a pot of that infernal drink.

Jason: And Tim has already called dibs on the entire pot. That kid is scrawny, but when it comes to coffee he's vicious.

Damian: Tt.

-------

Damian: STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW TODD!

Tires screech as Jason whips into a parallel parking spot in front of the school. Damian's entire class watches this happen. They look terrified.

Damian, jumping out of the car, cursing in Arabic: Are you trying to murder me?!

Jason, casually getting out of the car with a Frappuccino, shrugs: I told you we wouldn't be late.

Damian: WE ARE THIRTY MINUTES LATE!!

Jason, shrugs: Oops.

-------

Teacher: Ok class! This is Jason Todd, he is Damian's older brother and he will be helping out on the field trip today. I expect you all to be on your best behavior today! Now Mr. Todd, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?

Jason, feet on a desk not paying attention, glaring at Damian.

Teacher: Mr. Todd?

Jason chokes on Frappuccino, stands up.

Jason: Uh, yeah, sure. Um, my name is Jason Todd, feel free to just call me Jason. Uh, what else?

Teacher: Maybe give us a fun fact about yourself?

Jason: Sure, sure. Uh I recently spent some time down under.

Teacher: Oh, in Australia?

Jason: Yeah, let's go with that.

Damian facepalms

-------

On the bus, kids screaming and throwing things at each other. Damian and Jason sit at the front near Damian's teacher. Jason has his eyes closed and looks tense.

Teacher: Uh, Mr. Todd? Jason? Are you alright?

Jason: Just peachy.

Damian: Pull it together Todd. You are embarrassing me.

Jason: Listen demon spawn, I'm trying to keep it together and not maim a rich brat. So why don't you shut up.

Damian: Tt. Everyone knows you are too cowardly to maim a child. However, I do admit that the loud and confined environment could cause stress... Here. Take these.

Damian hands Jason headphones. Jason looks confused.

Damian: Grayson claims that music can have a calming affect.

Jason: ...Thanks brat.

-------

Teacher: Ok class we are here! Remember to stick with your groups. Group one is with me. Group two is with Mrs. Smith. And group three is with Jason.

Kids break into groups, each group has seven kids.

Jason: Group three over here!

Damian rolls his eyes as the other six kids approach.

Jason: Be nice. Ok kiddos, we're starting at the uh American Rural Avant Garde exhibit. What the fuck is that crap?

Teacher: Oh my! Um, Mr. Todd. We do not encourage such strong language.

Jason: Wha- oh! You mean crap, so teach' that's my bad.

Teacher: Uh, no I uh-

Jason: Anyway c'mon demons let's go look at shitty art.

Teacher, chanting under their breath: The Wayne's donate a lot of money. The Wayne's donate a lot of money.

-------

In the cubism section.

Kid 1: Mr. Todd! When's lunch?

Jason: Call me Jason kid, and it's only ten? Lunch isn't until one.

Kid 2: But I'm hungry!

Kid 3: And this is boring!

Jason: It's not that bad, look at this thing! It's- oh shit is that a Picasso?

Kid 4: Uh, yeah?

Jason: Fuck that asshole, let's go get ice cream.

Damian: Todd! That is not in the schedule, we can not skip a section just because you dislike the artist!

Jason: See, that's were you're wrong baby bird. I'm in charge and I say that Picasso is an asshole and we're skipping his shit.

Damian: We are already in trouble with father, if we exhibit bad behavior he might force us to spend more time together.

Jason: Look kid, Bruce sent me here because he wants us to bond. The greatest form of bonding is breaking rules and skipping school. So, really, by skipping we're actually doing what he wants.

Damian: Tt. I suppose that sounds accurate.

-------

Jason: Time for lunch kiddos.

Kid 2: But we just finished our ice cream break?

Jason: No, we just finished the seeing the museums second floor. Right?

Kid 6: No we-

Jason: No no, we finished the second floor. The whole ice cream thing, that's our little secret. Right?

Kids: Ohhhhh

Jason: Now you're getting it!

-------

Damian glares at his lunch

Jason: What's wrong kiddo?

Damian: Tt. It appears that I might have, accidentally, taken Drake's lunch instead of my own.

Jason: And? What's the problem?

Damian: Drake, packed that abomination that he calls a sandwich.

Jason: Oh, god. He packed a peanut butter pepperoni sandwich again?

Damian, looking at the lunch with complete disgust: Yes.

Jason: Here, take my PB&J.

Damian: ...

Jason: Timbits taste in sandwich's is a crime against humanity. But I'm not vegan, so if worst comes to worst I'll eat it.

Damian: ...Thank you Todd. I- I did not think you cared about my dietary choices.

Jason: Just because we fight sometimes doesn't mean I won't have your back kid. Yeah, I guess being vegan is a choice, but it's a choice that I'll always support.

Damian quickly hugs Jason before taking his sandwich and pretending nothing happened.

Damian: I appreciate the support. Thank you, brother.

Jason: No problem baby bird.

-------

Jason: So, we have an hour before we have to get back on the bus. And, uh- oh shit! Ok, so apparently we had an assignment. Uh, the instructions say to draw your favorite work and write why you like it. What the fuck kind of bullshit assignment is that?

Jason: Uh, ok we're doing a speed draw. Everyone just pull up your favorite work on the museum website and try your best.

--> 40 Minutes Later <--

Jason: Ok, hand me your sheets and let's head to the bus.

Damian, hands his assignment in.

Jason: Whoa, huh.

Damian, looking nervous: What Todd?

Jason: Nothing, just this is a really good drawing kid.

Damian blushes: Of course it is.

Jason smiles and ruffles Damian's hair: Good job brat.

Damian smiles and heads to the bus

------

Both in the car, about to drive back to the manor.

Jason: You know, I actually sorta had fun today.

Damian: Your presence was... enjoyable.

Jason: We're never telling that to Bruce, right?

Damian: Obviously, if father thinks that his plan worked he will be completely insufferable.

Jason: Agreed. Y'know, sometimes field trips go long.

Damian: Oh?

Jason: Yeah, I mean, it wouldn't be too weird if we were an hour or so late getting home.

Damian: If we were to be late getting home, how would we spend that time?

Jason: There's a cool arcade that should be open right now.

Damian: I do not believe that I have ever been to an arcade.

Jason: Well, that needs to be fixed right now. You down baby bird?

Damian: I- uh I am down, is that the correct usage of the term?

Jason: Hell yeah.

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

Based on this headcanon.

[jayvoir]

jealousy — choi yeonjun

word count: 2k words

warnings: smut, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, drinking, unprotected sex, jealous!yeonjun, fingering, degradation, slight exhibitionism, choking, dirty talk, hair pulling

summary: you had been thinking of your best friend in more than friendly ways recently. what happens when he gets jealous on a night out?

authors note: this is my first smut so please be nice lol, i’m trying here 😭 @hoe2z this is for you ;)

“y/n, go out with us, please!! you promised,” beomgyu begged with a pout. you shook your head playfully, debating in your mind whether you wanted to go or not.

“y/n come on! we’re literally begging here,” soobin said, a pout also present on his lips. they had been trying to get you to go out with them for a while, but you always put it off. clubbing wasn’t your scene, so you avoided it at all costs. but, that’s kind of hard when you’re friends with the choi line.

just as you were about to decline yet again, yeonjun walked in wearing a pair of black ripped jeans and a maroon button down shirt that fit his form nicely. the first few buttons were undone, exposing a small part of his chest. your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, a rush of electricity flowing through you.

he smirked at the look on your face, knowing the effect he had on you. he knew he could use this to his advantage to get you to go. “y/n? please? come with us,” he said, voice laced with fake arrogance. you couldn’t say no to yeonjun so you sighed and agreed to go.

you trudged up to your room, digging through your closet, trying to find the right outfit. you knew what you were going for, and that was knock yeonjun off his feet. you settled for a cropped tight fitted long sleeve paired with a short leather skirt. you slipped on a pair of black heels, and lightly dusted your face with makeup. you were ready in no less than 30 minutes and you smirked at yourself as you looked in the mirror. suddenly, you were excited to go out.

you made your way down the stairs, meeting up with the boys at the bottom. soobin and beomgyu started cheering, telling you how hot they thought you looked. you smiled and thanked them, your eyes drifting to yeonjun. his eyes were dark, looking you up and down. it suddenly felt incredibly hot in the room as he stared you down. all you could do was smirk slightly, making yeonjun tense up.

“shall we go,” beomgyu suggested, not even noticing the tension in the room. everyone agreed, and piled into the car. yeonjun was in the drivers seat, you in the passengers seat beside him, beomgyu and soobin in the back. yeonjun started the car and started driving, one hand on the wheel, the other arm resting on the center console.

something about the way he was driving was really getting to you. you kept glancing at him, doing your very best not to make it obvious. however, the universe seemed to have different plans. he glanced at you and chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “what,” you asked, confusion laced into your voice.

he smirked once more, glancing back at the boys to see if they were listening. they weren’t, they were caught up in some game they were playing together. “you act like i can’t see you practically drooling over me,” he said, cockily. you tensed up in your seat, not knowing what to say. what do you say to that?

“oh um-”

“i’m not complaining. you look hot,” he complimented, the same shit eating grin on his lips. you playfully shook your head, not thinking he was being serious. you turned the radio up and just sat there the rest of the ride, not noticing the looks yeonjun kept throwing at you.

a short time later, he pulled up to the side of the street, parallel parking in front of a few clubs. you all piled out of the car, deciding which club to go into. they ultimately decided on the club with the shortest line, and dragged you over to the entrance, almost making you trip since you were wearing heels.

the line moved pretty fast, you guys getting up to the front in about ten minutes. you showed your id’s and headed inside, going straight to the bar. “i’m gonna go dance,” soobin yelled over the music after getting a drink. you all nodded, beomgyu following him, you taking a seat at the bar. yeonjun took a seat next to you, also getting a drink.

a few drinks later, beomgyu hurried up to you, basically ripping you out of your seat at the bar. “come dance with us,” he exclaimed as he dragged you out to the dance floor, yeonjun following close behind. you were surrounded by sweaty bodies, some of them making out or groping each other, everyone else just dancing and having a good time. you started dancing with beomgyu, and when the song switched to a more sensual song, it was more like grinding on him.

beomgyu didn’t mind, the both of you knew it didn’t meant anything. however, yeonjun seemed to think different. he stood to the side, staring you down as you danced on beomgyu, him clenching his hands into a fist. a moment later, he decided he couldn’t watch anymore. he stormed over to the both of you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to a bathroom in the back. “yeonjun, what the hell are you doing,” you yelled, trying to pry his hand off of your wrist.

he pulled you into the bathroom, slamming the door closed, locking it. he turned to look at you, his eyes dark. he stalked over to you, making you back up, eventually hitting your back against the wall. you gulped and looked up at him, feeling small underneath his gaze. “what the fuck was that all about?”

you racked your brain trying to come up with what he was talking about. and then you remembered what you were doing when he walked up. “the dancing on beomgyu? what about it,” you asked, confused beyond belief. “oh my god. you’re jealous aren’t you?”

he pushed you up against the wall further, leaning down to your ear. “so what if i was? what if i wanted you all to myself,” he said, his voice husky, sending shivers down your spine. he smirked when you didn’t respond, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“i guess i’m just gonna have to prove to them that you’re mine.” you were slightly confused as to why yeonjun was randomly acting like this, but you definitely were not complaining. you were willing to fully give yourself to him, whatever that meant.

he leaned in and roughly pressed his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. his hands were on your waist in no time, pulling you closer to him. he began to kiss from the corner of your mouth, down to your neck, beginning to leave a few hickeys. he smirked to himself once he heard you whimper, his hands making his way up your shirt. he trailed his kisses down to your collarbone, leaving a few more love bites along the way.

you whimpered once more, making him pull away and look at you, a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. “what are you whimpering for,” he asked tauntingly. he chuckled deeply, when you didn’t respond, making you slightly nervous for what was going to happen next.

“if you don’t tell me what you want, i can’t help you, babygirl,” he teased. his words sent a wave of arousal straight to your core, making you look up at him, a needy look in your eyes. “so tell me princess. what can i do for you?”

you shyly reached for his hand, and placed it over your core, his hand ghosting over the fabric that covered it, making you whimper once more. he stuck his bottom lip out, finding your neediness incredibly attractive. “aw look at you being all shy now. does princess want me to touch her?”

you nodded quickly, still holding his hand where it you placed it. “y-yes please...” you said quietly. he smirked as he pulled your skirt down, pulling your panties down achingly slow. “yeonjun, p-please,” you whined, gripping onto his shirt.

“patience, baby. you’ll get what you want i promise,” he whispered, running his hands up and down your sides. he brought one hand up to your mouth, you immediately opening as he put his index finger in your mouth. once it was wet, he took his finger out, smirked and brought his hand back to your core. he ran the one finger through your folds, making you moan quietly.

“you’re so wet baby, and i haven’t even done anything yet,” he mocked. he began rubbing slow circles on your clit, making you grip onto his shirt tighter, wanting more. after doing this, he slowly inserted two fingers into your sex, making you gasp and grip onto his shoulder.

“feel good princess?” all you could muster up was a nod as he began thrusting his fingers in and out of your heat, making you moan louder. he kept going as he started kissing your neck again, only adding to the stimulation. before you knew it, you felt the familiar knot form in your stomach and you began to shake.

“j-jun i’m close,” you spoke, your voice shaking. as the words rolled off of your tongue, he pulled his fingers out and pulled away from your neck, making you whine loudly.

“no whining,” he demanded, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. he was left in his boxers, a prominent bulge poking out. you took a deep breath at the size, looking back up at him. he came back up to you, wrapped his arms around your thighs, picked you up and set you on the sink.

he hastily kicked his boxers off, spreading your legs with his knees. he ran his length up and down your folds, simply teasing you to get you riled up. “how bad do you want it, babygirl?”

you reached up and gripped onto his shoulder, desperately wanting to be relieved of the ache between your legs. “please yeonjun, i-i need you,” you begged. he leaned back down to your neck, pressing kisses to the fresh hickeys as he pushed into you easily, due to how wet you had become. the stretch felt magnificent, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

he began rolling his hips into yours, the pain disappearing, being replaced by a sense of bliss. he reached up and wrapped his hand in the base of your hair, pulling your head back, making you moan loudly. “look at you. such a dirty little slut, taking my cock like that. you like that don’t you,” he said, his thrusts becoming quicker.

“you’re taking me so well princess, doing so good for me,” he spoke, words becoming slurred. he gradually became rougher with his movements, tugging on your hair again, making you let out a loud moan.

“that’s a good girl, let everyone hear how good you’re being for me.” you began to feel the knot form in the pit of your stomach once again, making you begin to shake. you gripped onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin, sure to leave marks. he took his hand out of your hair and moved it to your neck, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides slightly. not enough to hurt you, but enough to have you seeing stars.

“i-i’m so close-” he cut you off, pressing his lips to yours, his movements never stopping. the kiss was full of need, you wrapping your hand in his hair, tugging as the pleasure became more intense.

“you gonna cum? come on princess, cum for me, let everyone know who you belong to,” he said, his thrusts becoming sloppier, signaling he was getting close as well. before you knew it you were cumming, yeonjun beginning to rub at your clit only making the pleasure more intense, a loud, animal like moan coming out of your mouth.

yeonjun pulled out, stroking himself a few times, before cumming on your thigh, letting out a breath he was holding. you both had to catch your breath for a moment, looking at each other and smiling. he helped you get dressed, tugging his pants back on, buttoning his shirt back up. you turned around to look in the mirror, wanting to fix your hair, but froze at the sight. your neck was covered in love bites, some darker than others.

yeonjun noticed as well, and all he did was chuckle. “now they’ll know who you belong to.”

[itsthestutterforme]

Second Chances (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: Hanseok was spiraling and was starting to get paranoid as Vincenzo's plan began to unravel. Y/N, his best friend, gets hurt because of him and he never forgives himself.

Characters: Vincenzo x nurse!reader (platonic) Hanseo x nurse!reader (platonic), Hanseok x nurse!reader (platonic)

Requested by @letsnotcrytoday

--

Sighing as you rest your head on the steering wheel, your phone chimed. You just finished your 12 hour shift in the hospital as a nurse and you felt tractor trailer ran over you. A scolding hot bath, a vibrating pad and a foot massage from Hanseok sounds like heaven right about now.

Speaking of Hanseok, he's been very distant lately. You've been best friends since junior high and you know each other like the back of your hands. But you haven't seen him so closed off before. It's almost as if he doesn't know who to trust. And it makes you wonder how he became that way.

Without pulling away from the steering wheel, you reach into your bag and take out your phone. You glance over at the phone to see a text from Hanseo saying, "He-." That's odd. Hanseo has been just as distant as Hanseok. Something doesnt feel fight. Was he trying to say "Help?"

You drive to Hanseo's office first but they said that he was out for the day. Then you drove to Hanseo's house and your heart bangs in your chest when you look through the window.

You see Hanseok walking around the house with a gun and Hanseo tied up in front of him. He looks to be bleeding from his head. There are two other people there, a woman and a man.

You don't want to see Jang Hanseok go to jail. He's not a bad man, he just made mistakes that led him down a terrible road. Your heart was shattered to pieces when you visited him in jail and saw him in those awful, beige jail clothes.

You can't see him there again. You grab your first aid kit from your glove box and shove it into your purse.

You slowly walk into the house and open the door, careful not to make any noise. You walk into the living room when you heard three gun shots. "Oh my God, Hanseok, what you-."

Another gun shot rings in your ears and a sharp pain struck your hand. You fall to the floor and cradle your hand against your chest to see a gaping hole in your palm.

Taking deep breaths, you look around the room to see the woman with a gun shot wound in her shoulder and Hanseo with multiple wounds in his chest. If you don't patch those up soon, he won't make it. You finally look up to see Hanseok looking at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing here!"

The other man stands up and Hanseok pulls the trigger once again but the gun exerted a soft click. Hanseok looks at you with guilt and anger as the man rush toward him. Hanseok jumps off of the balcony and disappears. A soft whimper left your lips as blood spills from your hand and on to the floor.

You take some cloth from your purse and wrap your hand tightly to prevent any more blood loss. You wince as the pain intensifies and make your way to Hanseo, where the man was kneeling. "Can you help him?" He asks.

"I can try. Did you already call the ambulance?" "Yes," "Okay." You unbutton his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He has a total of three wounds, luckily there are three people here.

You open the first aid kit and pressed gauze to his wounds, making him wince. "I'm alright," Hanseo says weakly. "No, you're not." You snap, angry at Hanseok for doing this to his brother. "I'm sorry, I j-" His hand comes up to touch your cheek. "You two were more like siblings to me than he was." He says.

"Stop talking and save your strength. Apply pressure to this one." You tell the man. "Miss, I know you're hurt but can you use the other arm to put pressure on his wounds? I'll tend to yours in a minute." You add. "Y/N, please. Let it run it's course." "No, I won't. You're going to live, you hear me?" you say, blinking away the years forming in your eyes.

"I don't want to live in fear anymore. I did good, right? Please tell me I did good." "You're going amazing, Han seo. I'm so proud of you." "P-proud?" More tears escape your eyes as you ease the pressure of his wounds and uncap 5 milligrams of morphine. You inject him with it and he sighs softly. "This should ease the pain enough for him.." you trail off.

"I'm so sorry, Han seo." You add, taking his hand into both of yours. He takes his last breath as you press a kiss to his forehead. Shaky breathes leave your lips and you wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry for your loss, but can you please help my friend?" The man asks.

Wiping away your tears, you nod and made your way over to the woman.

**

It's 2 A.M. It's been five hours since you came home from the hospital and you didn't get a lick of sleep. What happened at Hanseo's house replays in your mind like some reoccurring nightmare. You wish it was a nightmare. One of your bestfriends was shot a killed by your other best friend.

Sniffling from crying about Hanseo's passing, you blow your nose a few times. That was when you hear a soft clank in your kitchen. Your nose flares with annoyance.

Whoever broke into your home was one unlucky son of bitch. You're feeling everyone emotion besides fear and you have a locked and loaded pistol in your drawer.

Taking the pistol into your hand, you take the safety off and slowly walk down the stairs. You lean your back against the wall next to the kitchen. "Whoever you are, you have five seconds to get the hell out or I'm putting five bullets in you." "Y/N?" You hear Hanseok say.

You step away from the wall and aim your gun at him, not caring about the searing pain of your hand wound opening up again. "Get the hell out," "Y/N, please. I.. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of thi-" "That was your brother, Hanseok! Your blood! And you killed him, because of what!"

"I had no choice! Vincenzo threatened to kill you if I didn't." You were at a loss for words. "Don't. Please don't turn your back on me. The whole world can but the minute that you do, then I'm a lost cause." He says, making your heart lurch in your chest.

You weren't aware that he was stepping closer to you until his hands were taking the gun out of yours. Putting on the safety, he tosses the gun on the couch. His gaze fixes on the gauze wrapped around your right hand. You put your hand behind your back. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you lie.

Still unsure of whether to believe him, you thought that it was best to sleep on it and talk to him about it in the morning. Your brain was physical exhausted from work and recent events.

"You can see yourself out," you add before turning around to go back to your room. He grabs your uninjured hand and pulled you into his chest. "You could have died, and it would have been at my hand. I'll never forgive myself for that." You chose not to say anything and listened to his heart racing in his chest.

"I didn't know it was you. My body reacted before my mind could register... I know you're pissed at me but please don't lose faith in me." He adds. "What were you thinking!" You push him away from you and slap him across the face. It wasn't until you heard a faint rip of your stitches that you realized it was with the injured hand.

A shriek of pain leaves your lips and you fall to floor, cradling your hand. He kneels down next to you and you both watch as blood seeps through the bandage. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asks. "Bathroom." Without a second thought, he lifts your into his hands and carries you into the bathroom.

He sets you on the counter and sets the first aid kit on the toilet lid. Slowly peeling off the gauze, he winces when he sees the wound. Guilt weighs on his eyes and he cleans around the wound on both sides before putting an antifungal cream.

He puts a large piece of gauze on both sides of the hand and uses a new wrap to intricately wrap the hand between each finger and the entire wrist.

He tucks away the loose end of the wrap and we both sigh in unison. "We have to get out of the country," "What the hell did you get yourself into, Hanseok? Why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped you." "No, you couldn't." He walks out of the bathroom and you jump off the counter to follow him until you heard him scream.

"Hanseok!" You rush out of the bathroom but a hand clamped around your mouth and felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You drop to the ground as black wisps cloud your vision and the last thing you saw was Hanseok being dragged away.

**

Gasping for you breath, you find yourself laying in your bed. What the hell? Was last night a dream? You look at your hand and remember Hanseok wrapping it after pulling your stiches. It wasn't a dream. Someone took Jang Hanseok.

You stand up from the bed and reach for your phone. You thought of Hanseo saying that he our a tracker in his brother's watches. You thought he was crazy but now you couldn't help but to thank him. You look up to the ceiling and say, "I'll make sure you get the justice you deserve, Hanseo."

Following the GPS, you stop in the middle of traffic when you see the man from Hanseo's apartment leaving the warehouse that the GPS led you. "He's the one that forced Hanseok to kill his own brother." You say to yourself. Your blood runs cold in your veins when you see blood splattered on his face and clothes.

Horns honk at you and you park on the side of the road and waited for the man to leave. You rush into the gravel road to park the car. Running as fast your legs can take you, you follow Hanseok's screams to a large room of the abandoned warehouse.

He's connected to some weird torture device that looks automatic. There is a drill that looks to be a half an inch inside his chest cavity. "Oh God," you say. "Y/N," he says weakly and you had sudden flashbacks to Hanseo dying. You couldn't loose another one, you refuse to.

You pull out a knife and pop open the circuit of the device and you cut the red wire which prevents the device from functioning. You're so glad you took that programming class in college.

You stick the sharp end into the crease and pushed the drill out of the device so it would stay in his chest. If you took out the drill now, he would bleed out in seconds.

What kind of monster would do this to another human being? You pull him to his feet and walk him down the stairs to get to the car. "Stay with me okay?" You say when you notice his eyes starting to close his eyes.

He looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin looked pale and lifeless and his lips were blood stained. When you find this guy, you're going to tear him a new one.

Going 80 on the highway, you were at the hospital in a blink of an eye. "Help! Someone help me please!" You yell as you drag him into the ER.

"Y/N, what happened to him?" Your coworker asked. You wait until he is on the gurney to say, "Someone was torturing him with a drill." You say flatly.

"What kind of sicko does that?" When you don't respond, she adds, "Right, sorry. Not time for jokes. I'll keep you posted." You nod and watch as she accompanies a doctor's taking him to the surgery floor.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

[stevenbasic]

<buzz buzz buzz>

shhhh.

<buzz buzz buzz>

ugh.

<buzz buzz buzz>

That’s...that’s someone texting me.

I was woken by the sound of my phone, the first beams of sun sneaking in through the cheap plastic blinds of my apartment’s small, single window. I was disoriented - what time was it? How long had I been sleeping? I thought I was in my office, on that cot? Anyway, someone was texting me, and…

<buzz buzz buzz>

There it was again, a fourth alert, from a number I didn’t recognize. And it was morning, not quite quarter-to-seven. Swiping into my texts, I immediately saw the photo…

Two of my receptionists, Brittni and Bobbi, Young girls, friends, inseparable. They were here for, uh, jesus-

"were here to pick u up n get u to the hospitall for your rounds"

Oh shit. It's Thursday morning.

Was it Thursday already?!? I was due into the hospital in - oh christ - twenty minutes!

And my - ugh ugh ugh - my car was gone! The facts, the events of the past two days began to settle back into me. It had been taken away by Sheryl, my wife. My wife had taken away my car. In my distress I had torn through the office yesterday morning more or less naked, lap-swaddled by Melissa, lifted, carried and then holy shit basically hand-raped and boob-smothered by the new Eastern European APRN, Morgan. This was all on Wednesday morning. And it was somehow Thursday already?!? How had I slept so long?!? And - who moved me from the cot in my office to here???

Anyway - I didn’t have time to think. I sprang out of bed. I needed to get ready, fast! The ignominy of needing a ride to the hospital this early AM from two of my youngest employees - something arranged, no doubt, by Melissa - was a fact I was going to have to ignore. Shirt, pants - too big. Belt - yikes. Shoes - I’m swimming in them. Was I actually 5’3”?!? Like Morgan measured yesterday? How could this be happening??? No time to be anxious, I’ll figure this out later, I decided, slamming the door to my apartment behind m-

What the hell?

The hallway was sealed off, plywood blocking the way that would have led to the stairs down to the atrium. The construction! Yes! Melissa had said they were working to tear down most of the second floor and - jesus - there were the new, small stairs, spiral, that would lead me down…

In the near-dark of the early morning I made it down, through Melissa’s silent office, and - the front entrance, also sealed - out through a side door. I was confused, disoriented. Holy shit what was happening to this place?! My practice?!

Hurriedly making my way out, finally, to the front parking lot, I found the two girls in Brittni’s white minivan, pulled up to the curb.

“hiiiiiiii….!” they sang in unison, turned from their front seats to watch me enter as I slid open the passenger’s side back door and hopped in. Their smiles were huge, delighted, and it smelled nice in the car.

“Good morning,” I answered, struggling to slam shut the door behind me, “thanks for doing this…”

“Seat belt…?” Bobbi suggested, brows raised expectantly.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I agreed, clicking myself in, looking around the cabin a bit as we began to pull away  “Nice…van.”

“It’s my family’s?” Brittni answered, turning out of the lot onto the main drag. I felt a quick, small pang of nausea hit me, like car sickness.

I shook it off.

Excited, the girls talked non-stop as we drove, Brittni with her eyes on the road or watching me in the rearview, Bobbi turned in her seat the whole time to face me. Both girls were dressed in jeans and black tops, showing - yikes - more cleavage than I’d seen in either one of them before. I did my best not to look down at Bobbi’s inviting chest, or steal glances at Brittni’s curvy profile. They were young - what? Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one? - but double yikes. Had they always been built like this??

It was thankfully a short drive to the small community hospital where I saw my patients, maybe about ten minutes. But throughout the whole thing they were giddy, giggly, obviously tickled pink by their assignment of chauffeuring me to work and amused that it was just after sunrise and they were driving their boss around since his wife had taken away his car. Their eyes glittered merrily, their smiles wide and white.

For myself I did my best to sit straight, look confident, speak clearly. My rumpled, oversized clothes and messy hair might not have helped matters; I’d gotten myself dressed and ready in all of three minutes and it showed. But, I hoped I could keep up at least some airs of professionalism in this otherwise totally demeaning situation. I needed to remain an authority figure, as best I could, to my young employees. I’d thought I was doing okay, keeping up with the light conversation which was - at the very least - thankfully distracting me from thoughts of yesterday, or how I was going to return to work at the office without melting from the humiliation. Two of my new employees - Shanette and then Morgan - had had their ways with me in less than the span of twenty-four hours. And that was notwithstanding the fact that I’d spent time cradled in my office manager’s lap. Oh my god what was happening??

In a brief moment of quiet, as Bobbi and Brittni tittered between themselves over something, I took the chance to gaze out the window. I thought about the office, remembering the hallways, the breakroom, Melissa’s couch. Aside from the humiliation I was beginning, for some reason, to feel a little...homesick? Thinking I shouldn’t be leaving, driving further away. It made me feel funny, like I was doing something wrong. Another brief wave of nausea hit me; I took a deep breath and stopped looking out the window. Settle down, I told myself, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. A deep breath - smelling of the girls, that new perfume - helped.

Before I knew it, though, we were pulled up to the front entrance of the hospital and Bobbi and Brittni were waving me goodbye, each smiling out the passenger’s side window as I gathered myself and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Byeeeeee…!” they both sang, giggling as I hurried away. Thankfully I’d remembered my briefcase. “We’ll pick you up here at eleven..!” I heard Bobbi call after me.

Inside the front entrance, I stopped. I heard the sliding doors close off behind me, and I took another deep breath. There was that nausea again. Get it together, J.

Rounds. My Thursday mornings had, for years, consisted of me visiting my patients in their rooms: the diabetics, the stroke victims, the heart failures. Those that had been brought in as emergencies or ones that I’d admitted myself over the past weeks. Part of me always enjoyed rounds, seeing my patients in a different environment than the office, helping coordinate their care. I also liked the staff at the hospital, and had grown friendly with many of the nurses, receptionists and other physicians.

But, right off the bat, my visit this week went weirdly. Aside from the now-frequent waves of nausea, I was acutely aware of the stares. If I’d had hopes that no one would notice that I looked small, pale and weak, that my clothes didn't fit, that I was basically a shrunken mess - well, I was sadly mistaken. Not that much was mentioned, at first, but I’m sure they all saw how I was making mistakes, unable to concentrate, dropping things and stumbling over my words. It took one of my patients, though, about halfway through the morning as I visited him in his hospital bed, to speak the unspoken; “Where’s my real doctor?!” the old man croaked out, “This guy’s just a kid!!”

The two nurses in the room - each taller than me but somehow holding their tongues - turned to me. I began to stammer something, began to try to explain, but was immediately clenched with another grip of nausea, the worst yet. “Excuse me…” I asked, and rushed from the room.

I made it as far as the floor’s breakroom before I had to vomit in a sink.

===========================

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[kbuggg3]

Kian Lawley Imagine: “Jealous Much?”

IMAGINE: The fun beach day suddenly gets more interesting when Kian catches a guy flirting with you

Everyone in the 02l house was running around like crazy trying to get together all the stuff they'll need for their beach trip.

"(y/n), didn't you say you were grabbing the towels?"

"Got em! Kian, you got all the snacks?"

"Wait... What? I thought Corey was getting them?"

"Can someone get the sunscreen?"

"Ya. I got it!"

"Hey Seb, grab some waters and a few beers."

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE SNACKS!?"

After everyone got what they needed and loaded it into the two separate cars, they were finally off to the boating dock. (y/n) drove her jeep with Kian, her boyfriend, in the passenger seat and Harrison, JC, and Chelsea in the back seat. Corey drove the truck so he could attach the boat to the back. Sebastian was in the front seat next to him and Bobby, Anderson, Franny and Dom were squished together in the back.

After a few minutes of passing the AUX cord and jamming out they all finally arrived to the boating dock. When (y/n) parked her jeep, she rested her head on the steering wheel while everyone got out and got the stuff out of the trunk. "You okay, baby?" she heard a sweet voice say next to her ear.

Already knowing who it is, (y/n) put on a pouty face and looked up with her best puppy dog eyes. "I'm fine. It's just that we got up sooo earlyyyy." Kian frowned and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over it softly.

"I'm sorry. Is there anyway I can help you wake up?"(y/n) smirked slightly and leaned close to his face. "You could kiss me," she shrugged, biting her lip. Kian's eyes flickered down to her lips and he leaned down and kissed her softly.

(y/n) wrapped her arms around Kian's neck, hoping for the kiss to last longer, but Kian almost immediately pulled away causing (y/n) to pout again. "Heyyyy! I wasn't done." Kian chuckled at her reaction and replied. "Well as much as I enjoy doing that, I kinda had another idea in mind."

The moment (y/n) saw the smirk on his face and the evil look in his eyes, she knew he was up to no good. Before she could protest, Kian pulled her out of the jeep and threw her over his shoulder. "Kian! Put me down!" she laughed while lightly hitting his back.

"Not until you wake up."

"What are you even-" (y/n) paused mid sentence when she realized what he was going to do. "Kian, I swear to god if you throw me in the water I'm breaking up with you!" she joked. Kian just smiled even wider, knowing his plan was working, and walked into the water until he was knee deep.

He slid (y/n) down until she was eye level with him, her arms around his neck and her legs now wrapped tightly around his waist as she tried to avoid getting wet at all costs. "Alright baby! You ready?" he asked placing his hands on her ass to keep her from sliding down. "No, Kian!"

"1..."

"I swear if you actually-"

"2..."

"KIAN!"

"3!"

He pretended to swing her forward, acting as if he was going to throw her in but he never actually let go. Instead he laughed until his stomach hurt, earning a punch in the arm from his girlfriend. "I hate you," she said unwrapping her arms from his neck so she can cross them in front of her.

"Well I LoOoOoVe you!" Kian kissed her on the nose causing her to smile and unwrap her legs so she could stand on her own. "Hey, lovebirds, the boats ready to go!" Kian grabbed (y/n)'s hand and they walked to the dock that the boat was parked at.

After helping (y/n) in, he hopped in the boat and sat in the passenger side beside JC, who was going to be driving, and (y/n) went to the front of the boat with Seb, Anderson, Harrison, and Bobby. Franny, Chelsea, Corey, and Dom sat in the back of the boat next to the cooler of snacks and beers "in case they disappear", as they liked to put it.

                                                                            ~~~~

They rode around on the boat and went tubing for a little bit before eventually arriving at the island. They swam in the water, drank, hooked (y/n)'s phone up to the speaker to play music, took pictures for Instagram, and tanned. They stayed at the island for hours on end having a good time and acting like the rowdy teenagers that they were.

After awhile they began to grow hungry, seeing as all their snacks were gone. "I'm starving. Let's go get food," JC said looking over at his friends from under his umbrella.

"I agree. Do you guys remember the Sunset Grill? With the shrimp?"

"Oh my god! The shrimp!"

"We should go there."

"I'm down."

After taking a majority vote, they all packed up their towels, chairs, and umbrellas and got onto the boat. They got into their original seats and Bobby connected (y/n)'s phone to the built in speakers onto the boat. When they arrived at the restaurant they quickly put on some clothes over their bathing suits and were met by a tall, tan boy around their age who greeted them with a pearly white smile.

"Hey guys! My name is Caleb and I will be your waiter for today." Caleb helped tie the boat to the dock and waited patiently as everyone got out. (y/n) was the last one left, but paused as she noticed the boat, although tied to the dock, was getting too far away for her to reach.

"Hey, um, Kian? Can I get some help?" she laughed awkwardly. Kian was too busy talking to JC, Harrison, and Anderson and couldn't here her calling his name. Fortunate for her, Caleb heard the girls plea for help and was quick to be approach her.

He looked at her with his bright blue eyes and brushed the blonde hair out of his face. "Need a hand?" he asked extending his hand out to her. (y/n) gratefully took it with a smile and he helped her step out of the boat and onto the dock safely.

"I'm Caleb," he smiled warmly at her. "(y/n)." Caleb nodded his head before turning to the rest of the group.

"How many in your party?"

"11."

"Awesome! Right this way."

Caleb grabbed some menus and glanced at (y/n) quickly before walking off to show them their table. This act surely did not go unnoticed by Kian.  As they were walking, Kian made his way over to (y/n) putting a protective arm over her shoulders.

They sat down, ordered their drinks, and talked for a little while until Caleb came back asking what they wanted to eat. "I'll just have a cheeseburger," (y/n) stated closing her menu and handing it to the naturally tan boy. "That's my favorite," he smiled as he wrote down her order along with everybody else's.

Kian's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened slightly. He looked at JC to see his eyes wide and his lips in a small smile as he tried not to laugh at Kian's reaction. "I'll be sure to have your food out ASAP!"

Caleb looked at (y/n) one last time and with a nod of his head, he left. Kian leaned over to the table and whisper shouted at JC.

"What the hell was that? Did you see that?"

"What?"

"You know what!"

JC awkwardly shifted his eye contact from Kian, to (y/n), then back to Kian again. Kian just sighed and rolled his eyes."oH My gOd i LoVe cHeEsBuRgErS! We'Re, LiKe, ToTaLlY iN LoVe!" J

C attempted to stifle a laugh as Kian mocked their waiter in a high pitched voice.

"Dude, he's probably just being friendly. It's kind of his job."

"No. It is not his job! His job is to take our orders and bring us food. His job is NOT to flirt with MY girlfriend!"

Every time he would go to their table to check up on them, he would have a nice conversation with the table and even crack some jokes. Everyone thought he was a pretty cool guy. Everyone except Kian, of course.

Eventually their stomachs were full and it was time to leave. JC, Bobby, and Harrison stayed at the table to wait for their card to be brought back after paying and everyone else went over to the dock next to their boat. When everyone was listening to Dom tell some story about a time he got super drunk, Kian saw Caleb watching and slipped his hand in the back pocket of (y/n)'s jean shorts.

(y/n) bit her lip to hold back a smile and scooted closer to Kian. "What was that for?" Kian furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her. "What do you mean? I can't love my girlfriend?" (y/n) just shrugged with a knowing smile on her face and went back to listening to Dom's story.

Kian looked over towards the restaurant and once again saw Caleb staring. He clenched his jaw and looked away. He had to do something about this. He couldn't just let this random guy drool over his girlfriend!

Kian took his hand out of her pocket, grabbed her arm lightly, and turned (y/n) around to where she was facing him. (y/n) looked up at him with a smirk. "What is it this time?"Kian pulled on her shirt, bringer her closer to him, making the distance between them small.

He leaned down towards her ear and spoke quietly, "Caleb hasn't stopped staring at you since we came here on that damn boat and quiet frankly I'm not a fan of it." (y/n) giggled slightly at the boy. When she looked over towards the restaurant, she indeed saw their waiter staring at her. When they made eye contact he awkwardly smiled and pretended to be sorting menus.

"So if you could kiss me that would be great." They pulled away only slightly and (y/n) smiled.

"You're crazy."

"Crazy about you," Kian winked. (y/n) rolled her eyes at his cheesy comment and the two leaned in, sharing a long kiss. The others in the group stared for a little bit, but then remembered that randomly making out was kinda normal for them, so they went back to what they were doing.

After a few minutes of hanging out in the dock, JC, Bobby, and Harrison received their credit card and loaded everybody back onto the boat. (y/n) got into the boat and tried to make her way to the front with Sebastian, Anderson, Harrison and Bobby. Kian was quick to stop her by hooking a finger on the back of her bathing suit bottoms saying "C'mere baby" as he pulled her back towards him.

She giggled while walking back towards him and watched as Kians hands made their way to tightly grip her waist. He guided her hips as she sat down on his lap and wrapped his arms loosely around her torso, putting his head in the crook of her neck. "Yes?" She questioned.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you." Kian smiled at his own comment just as JC slipped out his phone, taking a perfect picture of the couple and connecting his phone to Bluetooth. "How bout a little B Marley, huh?" Although not opposed to the idea, (y/n) rolled her eyes at the nickname.

After a minute of searching through Spotify, JC finally found the song he wanted. (y/n) waited and listened for the song and instantly smiled when "Is This Love?" By Bob Marley began to play loudly.

I want to love you, and treat you right. I want to love you, everyday and every night

(y/n) took a deep breath in, smelling the salty air and feeling the wind on her face as the boat glided quickly over the waves.

We'll be together, with a roof right over our heads

Kian held (y/n)'s hand that was resting in her lap and rubbed his thumb up and down soothingly.

We'll share the shelter, of my single bed. We'll share the same room

Everyone stares at the beautiful view in front of them in awe, the sky acting as a canvas with pink and orange colors lighting up the sky.

Is this love? Is this love? Is this love? Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this love? Is this love? Is this love? Is this love that I'm feeling?

(y/n) heard Kian singing along to the words and she bit her lip to try and hold back a smile. She always loved hearing him sing. Even if it was just singing along to the radio in the funniest voice possible just to make her laugh. She, along with many many others, thought his voice was amazing, but Kian usually only let her hear it.

(y/n) closed her eyes and laid her head back onto his shoulder making Kian look at her. He knew why she was smiling. (y/n) tells him all the time how much she loves his voice, especially when he sings. Because of that, Kian leaned his forehead on her temple as sang softly in her ear so she could hear him better.

As he sang she smiled even more and cuddled into him. When they made eye contact, Kian's eyes would flicker down to (y/n)'s lips as she ran her fingers through his hair.Kian leaned in, capturing his lips into hers as they shared a passionate kiss. "I love you," Kian whispered as they pulled apart. "I love you too."

"Can we just talk about the fact that Kian was soooo jealous when that little waiter kept flirting with (y/n)?" JC said making everyone laugh.

"Oh my God, Kian. You looked sooooo mad!" Franny laughed, almost falling out of her seat with Bobby making another comment.

"He still looks angry!" Kian glared at Bobby and yelled jokingly, "I'm not fucking angry!" Everyone just laughed even harder and (y/n) laid her head on Kian's chest, making him look at her and calm down. "It's ok babyyyy," (y/n) cooed trying to hold back her giggles, making Kian kiss her face all over. "Do you think I'm jealous?" (y/n) looked at his pouting face and giggled. She grabbed his cheeks and gave a him a long kiss on the lips. When she pulled away to where there noses were touching, she whispered,

"Totally."

I freaking LOVE Kian and JC so if you don't watch them you 100% should. They’re legit so funny. Anywho, hope you liked it.

                                                            -Kbug

[burnedbyshoto]

bakugou katsuki alphabet hc’s

a/n: just a little something something for me being swamped with final preparations and my wip being nowhere near completed!!!

SFW

A = Affection (How affectionate are they with an s/o?)

Bakugou is not that affectionate, hate to tell you guys that. He’s a cat through and through. He’s someone who touches you when he wants to, not when you want it. Sometimes it varies, but most of the time it’s him giving you a look, after all, he will never outright tell you to touch him. But you can see it, the slight eyebrow lift, the curl of his lip because you’re not being affectionate with him. It happens both in private and public, but there are moments in private where he just is clingy, not in an overly clingy way, but a: let’s hold hands while being on our phones sorta way.

B = Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

There is not much in this world that will take Bakugou’s breath away. He’s just that sort of guy that even when he’s caught off guard, you will never ever know it explicitly. That being said, there is one thing that does take his breath away. Arguing with him

Now, I'm not talking about crazy psycho bitch arguing where the both of you are going through some world war with each other. I’m talking about an argument where he comes in knowing he’s in the wrong but him not knowing what to do. Argue your side, explain why he’s doing things wrong, how it’s wrong, and how to improve. Taking his insecurities and his inability to do things correctly isn’t something he enjoys being attacked about, but when you take it in, absorb it, and help him it just steals his breath away because holy hell, you respect him, you love him, and he feels the exact same way.

C = Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Bakugou does cuddle, but oh boy does it take a long time for him to be able to allow this to happen. 

Bakugou is a little spoon. now shut up and listen to why. When your relationship first begins, he is not open to showing his affections, and would turn onto his side before ever asking to hold you. So you have to take it up to yourself to snuggle into his back side, nose buried into his spine. With time, and with Bakugou finally opening up and expressing his feelings, and his ability to be as vulnerable as he can get, most nights it's with him laying his head on your chest, his body draped over yours. He likes this position because he feels like he’s protecting you. if anything happens at night, he’ll be the first to be hit, and that’s all that matters.

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

World domination, easy.

Bakugou isn’t someone who allows for intimate relationships like picking a penny from the penny jar. He is a tiny bit arrogant and thinks he deserves the best, so when he finally chooses you to date there’s a 99% chance it’s ending in marriage. He wants the both of you to succeed. 

Whatever it is in life that you want to do, what you dream to do, it automatically becomes his dream too. He’s going to support you and help you get there or his name isn’t Bakugou Katsuki.

E = Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

All things considered, especially what people would most likely think, he puts in a lot of effort.

Again, you aren’t some casual relationship, if he’s dating you that means you’re endgame in his eyes, congrats!

He may be an angry tsundere the entire time, but he remembers everything. Every important date in your life you better remember, because this asshole will then ask you seven years into the relationship about how you remember the outfit you wore on your first kiss and if you say no he’s gonna both yell at you and hold it above your head for all eternity.

He puts in effort!!!!

Sure, sometimes you might not be priority number one, but you never fall off the top ten list and he always makes sure to make it up in some sort of way if you feel negligent because of this.

F = Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

Bakugou is someone who talks you through it.

Why are you scared?

Is there something you can do about it?

How can I make it better?

He’s all about prevention, improving, helping. He wants you to feel better and he’s always been better with his words over his actions when it comes to aiding. It’s not to say that he won’t comfort you, because he will definitely touch your head and bring it to rest against his shoulder only after he’s done helping you out. He feels like he can help you through your fears and merely hugging and saying it’ll be better isn’t the way to help.

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

Bakugou remembers everything about ya, he’s going to get you the gifts you really need.

Yes, need, not want.

Oh you want a whole new makeup collection? Uh no, what you need is a whole new ass vanity and make up organizer because he’s seen those same damn colors you want in your collection but you don’t have shit organized so you don’t know!

Oh you want a new video game? Uh no,,, okay fair, he wants it too, so you both need it for date nights.

Bakugou absolutely hates getting gifts in return, for some reason he thinks its atone to charity work or like guilty gifts. If you want to give him a present, he might allow it, but do not and I mean DO NOT give him a gift for what he gives you (outside of appropriate holidays of course).

H = Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

Bakugou hugs you, that’s a given. But how he hugs is pretty dependent on mood and where the two of you are.

When it’s in public he’s a major fan of the one armed hug, the typical “we besties but not like that” hug. Never ever think it’s because he’s embarrassed of you, he’s just… emotionally constipated and he can’t fathom hugging you while everyone watches because he gets nervous. But there are times, in public, where something happens. Something that causes him to worry for you, and he’ll be on you in an instant, his arms slamming you in. One on the small of your back, the other between your shoulder blades. He loves you and only when he’s not in control does he forget his boundaries.

In private though, it’s another story. He’s the person who has their arms wrapped loosely around your waist, his hands holding onto your hips ever so softly. He buries his face into your neck and just breathes. Sometimes he likes to sway with you in his arms, other times he likes to carry you too.

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

He’s definitely an… acquired taste of romance. Nothing he does is outside the spectrum of what is considered to be romantic! If he had done it with a sugary sweet ‘im so in love with you smile’ no one would say anything, but he does these things in a Bakugou way where people are like: “ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH THAT MAN?!” and then look over at you who’s crying because you think he’s the most romantic person in the world. 

Oh he has hella problems, just because you’re it for him doesn’t mean he knows how to behave correctly. He goes through self reflection because of this! He needs to figure out what intimacy means for him, and how to express it to you while also keeping your ideas of intimacy in hand. It always works out though, he will always put together how to make it work.

J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Surprise, surprise, Bakugou Katsuki is a jealous man :)

The worst part of Bakugou’s jealousy is that he knows that he has no reason to be jealous. There are only a handful of people Bakugou feel inferior to, like truly and honestly inferior to. He knows he’s not always the best, no matter how hard he tries, but he knows where he lies in the world. So when he sees other people flirting with you he knows right away that there’s no reason to be jealous. But that doesn’t do anything to the instinctive monster in his mind that tells him to murder the random extra for even considering you to be on a level similiar to theirs.

He storms over, fury and murder in his eyes, parking himself right behind you, eyes glaring at the person who is flirting with you because on god he’s not going to say shit until he has to. If the person doesn’t understand that their presence isn’t welcomed, then Bakugou has no issue twirling you where you stand and shoving his tongue in your mouth. In fact most of your public kisses have stemmed from situations like these.

But the dangerous jealousy is the one where you invoke it. The eyes on him the entire time you’re flirting with him, fueling the fires of his jealousy and irateness. There’s nothing stopping him from going over there, but in this? This is a competition for him. Who’s breaking first? He’ll grab someone nearby, eyes on you while he flirts himself. Although it’s not really flirting he can’t understand anything the person he grabbed is saying, he just enjoys the anger in your own eyes until one of you -- most of the time him -- snaps and storms over.

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

Hohohoho, Bakugou Katsuki is initially the worst kisser in the entire WORLD.

His kiss is like slimey, too much saliva, sweat pouring from his face because he’s nervous. He won’t touch you because if he did he’d leave handprints on your clothes. He clumsily clashes his teeth against yours, and oh god is this the appropriate amount of tongue to use?

Just teach him

Bakugou is a lowkey sucker for kisses, he enjoys nights where you poke him in the face obviously wanting a kiss from him, but he can’t help but make it difficult for you. He’ll face poke after poke until he gets up, face trying to stay angry until you pull him into a kiss. He’s much better at this point, he likes holding your cheek with his right hand, his left hand either grasping your wrist or holding your hand. He’s into the slow and languid kisses, the ones that keep you shut up for moments to come because he enjoys blue balling you. 

Bakugou will kiss you every day until the day he dies, even if he’s mad at you or something, no day is passed without a kiss in the morning and at night.

L = Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Bakugou Katsuki is a hard one for this. 

On one hand, I can see him not being the first one to say it. Bakugou being the first to admit to something as deep, as soul revealing as being in love with you? It can happen at anytime during the relationship, but he will first murmur it when he swears you’re asleep, and then again when you ask him.

But on the other hand, I can see him saying it first. Bakugou isn’t an idiot, he knows you won’t say it in case he doesn’t return your feelings, but the thing is Bakugou has been in love for quite some time so he’ll say it out of the blue. Not in the middle of silence but during a conversation that you don’t register until he’s glaring at you for ignoring his statement.

After all, Bakugou doesn’t lose. ;p

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

Bakugou isn’t dating you just so he can say he’s dating someone. Hell nah, if he’s dating you like hell he isn’t gonna have you take his last name so he can show you off to the world like some toy he had won. It’s not done in a bad way, just a smug ‘I married the best person in the world’ sorta way.

Bakugou is a small and intimate most likely modern sort of party. There is no free bar, like hell he’s going to let people get wasted through his money on his day. But it definitely becomes his favorite day in the entire year watching you come down the aisle and getting to dance with you.

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Bakugou enjoys date nights at home.

He likes coming together with you to prepare dinner, chucking food at each other when someone messes up. Then the food is taken to the living room where he threatens not to mess anything up or feel his wrath. After the threat, you sit between his legs and the two of you go ham on video games or watch a movie.

Other than that he likes amusement parks, museums, hiking, and camping trips!!

O = Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

He will not lie to you to make you feel better. Don’t go to Bakugou expecting a cheerful pick up when you’re in the wrong because he will not allow you to believe that you’re in the moral high ground when you’re wrong. This also means you can’t give him half explained stories, don’t start something with him expecting him to support you when it’s questionable if you’re in the right.

P = Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

Oh he definitely is.

Every day comes a new sort of competition, some sort of race where the both of you need to express how the other one is better. Sometimes it seems like a fight match between the two of you, but you both know that it's all fun and games. He respects you and thinks of you highly so will always give it his all. And if he learns how to manipulate your body to get where he wants to be, so be it.

Q = Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

Bakugou 100% asks for your opinion on things. If he’s sharing his thoughts that means he fully expects your opinion on it and ten reasons as to why you believe it. Your opinion is valued to him and he’s not arrogant enough to forget that your voice matters as well. 

And Bakugou will always share his opinion, even sometimes when you don’t ask for it. He’s open and honest and always willing to give you the feedback you need. He respects and loves you too much to let you get away with a lie from him.

R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

Bakugou isn’t a spontaneous person, but life is just so out of control for him that most things while originally planned, end up being on the spot.

Like oh, our date night at this restaurant we planned was ruined because I had a last second call into the office that I couldn’t say no to, there's this little hole in the wall three blocks away if you want to go there instead?

He likes having an agenda, okay?

S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

On his own, Bakugou is a sprawler in his sleep. He turns left and right, flipping under the covers and kicking them off. He warns you of this well before sleeping in the same bed together, but when you finally get the chance to do it, he calms completely. He lays on his stomach, his head pressed into your stomach, an arm securely wrapped around your waist while he remains still at night. He’s a bit of a holder, even if he won’t admit it.

T = Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

Bakugou would not even admit to liking you should he not trust you.

Trust is the most important thing to Bakugou, if he can’t trust you then there’s no reason for him to be dating you. 

He would willingly let you choose the fate of his life if that was an option.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as an s/o?)

He’s a complete novice to everything when you date him. You have to teach him a lot of things because he never really grew up with it and well, his parents have a very unique style of love so he thought that you would be dominating in every aspect and he had major qualms about that.

He is also somehow willing to try out everything with you without needing to be asked. So those sexy ballroom tango classes you saw one day? He’ll bitch the entire time before the class but will be the first out of the door to go to these events. 

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

It takes awhile. While Bakugou trusts you completely, being vulnerable just isn’t him. He doesn’t like being vulnerable, so it takes a lot for him to just… break down and split open showing everything about him to you.

In this state he’s emotional and somehow emotionless. Tears soak his cheeks, his lips red and raw, hoarse voice, thick words. He looks like a mess and you don’t know how to fix it, but you guide him through it. He might not acknowledge how he was in this state later on, but he will thank you quietly one night.

Remind him that it’s okay to be vulnerable, he needs to be reminded.

W = Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice)

He enjoys it when you do any of the boyfriend challenges from tiktok. Oh yes, this boy is well updated with the trending challenges thanks to Kaminari and he just waits around daily to see when or if you’ll do it to him. If not he’ll ask you why you aren’t doing it to him yet, and you just kinda ‘:O you want me to do that?!’

He also is super into spa nights. He will paint your toe nails, massage your body (as long as its reciprocated), and lounging with you with big fluffy towels, eating cucumbers with lemon and chile, and face masks on!

X = X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

Bakugou is a scary nurse. He just screams at you the entire time as to how stupid you are for getting injured, but will take care of you perfectly. And don’t you dare smile at him while he fluffs your pillow and make sure you feel 100% okay because he is MAD at you and you can’t be happy because he was scared shitless earlier! Oh yeah and you’re an idiot, and he made the soup slightly warmer than needed because he was so angry so let it cool down before you eat it, unless you want to burn yourself, which wouldn’t surprise him!

Y = Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

When you don’t speak up. He doesn’t like it when you hold your opinions to yourself, he finds it aggravating and annoying. Speak up if things bother you, don’t be spineless especially around him.

He hates uncleanliness and lack of personal hygiene. Brush your teeth every day, shower when you need to! CLEAN YOUR DAMN ROOM!

Z = Zeal (Are they passionate as an s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

Bakugou Katsuki is in fact a passionate boyfriend, he just has his unique ways of showing it. He never wants you to feel like he doesn’t love you, or doesn’t feel so deeply about this relationship because he would damn the entire world for you. And yeah, he likes and wants the passion, but give him some time to be comfortable and adjust to your ideals of it!

NSFW under cut:

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Bakugou cums for the final time and he’s a panting shaking mess for a few minutes afterwards. He lays there in the cum, sweat, and other fluids while looking you in the eyes, his eyes heavy with exhaustion and love. He’ll press a kiss to whatever’s nearest before pushing off the bed to grab towels. He cleans himself off, and depending on how you’re doing will either clean you off or make you clean yourself off. Sometimes he takes you to bathe and other times he says goodnight, wraps you in your typical sleeping position and knocks out.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Bakugou's favorite body part of his (outside his cock) is definitely his arms and his shoulders. He’s got powerful arms and shoulders, they’re wide, sturdy, and thick. They look good, they’ve always looked good. But they look so much better with your desperate hands clinging onto his shoulders like some lifeline, his skin permanently scarred from your raking fingers when you cry his name… oh yeah, its definitely that.

Bakugou is a cultured man who loves tits, ass, and thighs equally. He loves seeing your breasts squeezing around his cock as he’s strapped to the bed, your mouth in a sly smirk because you won’t suck him off. Your ass? He really fucking loves slapping your ass as you lay against his lap, counting the number of spanks he’s given you. He loves how soft and how much it bounces with every smack. And your thighs? He loves when you’re riding his face or the way they tighten so powerfully around his waist.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Bakugou’s cum is as good as cum gets, if you ignore the weird spicy aftertaste to them on the occasions he eats spicy food. He loves having it splattered against your face, the thick milky liquid just dripping from your face while you look up at him with shining eyes. He also admits to enjoying kissing you after oral sex, the taste of intermixing cum and spit overwhelming him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Bakugou is a panty thief, well really, anything he can get his hands on (even when you’re dating). He enjoys seeing you wandering around the room without your matching panty or bra, desperately trying to find the other set. It’s most definitely in his pocket at the time you can’t seem to find it, the fabric running between his fingers while telling you to just wear a mismatched one because he’s the only one gonna be seeing it anyways. Who you trying to impress???

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU VIRGIN BAKUGOU

He does not know what he’s doing, but he’s a fast adapter. He’ll be a complete booty for the first round and you can laugh for ages about it, but afterwards he’ll know what works and what doesn’t -- though sometimes…. Lol nvm

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Anything that shows off his strength. 

Against the wall, wheelbarrow, anything, anything, anything that can show he’s sooo much stronger.

He also likes missionary too, he’s just the type okay??? Plus perfect access to his shoulders.

Reverse cowgirl.

Doggy style.

Anything where you’re pressed chest to chest, it just brings up the level of intimacy for Bakugou.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

This is serious.

Bakugou isn’t a joking person to begin with, and he doesn’t magically evolve a humor boner while he’s slamming into you. 

I mean sure, the two of you can breathlessly laugh at things, but it’s not because you’re exchanging jokes -- you tried once and he just sorta… glared at you. If he wanted to laugh during sex he would rather die, this is serious to him, so be serious too. 

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

His pubes are darker than his hair, but they’re in the same blond family.

They are also very well-groomed. He thought it was appropriate to make sure he wasn’t a wild untame bush before fucking you because he wasn’t sure how you liked it. He also likes it well groomed because less chaffing in his costume.  

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Bakugou is someone who thinks highly of sex, so he is 100% focused in on it while fucking you. There’s nothing on his mind except getting you to cum a big scream of his name. At times he can be romantic, he’s done the flowers on the bed before and thought it was completely fucking stupid. You know he loves you so, and if he loves you dearly why does he have to change the way he behaves during sex?

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Bakugou is an angry masturbator.

It was a great way to find release before you, long days at work crumbling over the second he was in the shower. But when the two of you finally do start dating and having sex he believes that it’s best to masturbate when the two of you aren’t in contact.

He unashamedly will call you and tell you talk, jacking off to the sound of you telling him about your day, unaware of what he was doing.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Switch - Bakugou will sub or dub

Brat - when Bakugou is a sub, be ready to tame him at all costs. He’s not an easy sub to handle before being tamed, but once you have him, he’s easy.

Degradation - he enjoys it both ways, he likes hearing his natural language bleed into the bedroom and seeing how it finally gets to you in a way that benefits him. But he also enjoys hearing the curse words used against him, done in the same manner and tenor only someone who knew everything about him could do.

Spanking/hitting - Its a time he can use his quirk, he enjoys seeing your bruised skin burning in ways that have you panting for more.

Sensory deprivation - forcing you to succumb to him entire, trusting that he does whats best is a head rush to him.

Sounding - ...he’s a bit of a masochist.

Biting/marking - he likes making sure everyone knows you belong to someone

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Dining room table.

Hallways before the room.

The bed.

Midoriya’s bed.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Good god, just stroke this man's ego and his boner will be flying sky high. 

Gently run your fingers against his shoulder, whisper into his left ear while talking about trivial things, whatever you do, don’t let it on that you’re horny. Scrape your fingers against the nape of his neck, lips brushing against his raising skin. 

This man is head over heels for you, and when you are so comfortable you are your true self around him (including wearing any sort of lingerie in the colors black, orange, or geen ((bonus points if its inspired from his hero costume))) he’ll be ready to bounce.

Calling him your hero.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Whining.

Do not whine.

Now I don’t mean in a ‘you whined for his cock while he pulled away from your shuddering hole, you wanted him more’ but more like a ‘Katsuki please fuck me!!! You haven’t fucked me in so long and I need you cockkkkk!’ sorta way.

Its pathetic, he fucks you enough, stop that.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Short kings like Bakugou have to be good at eating out, it’s the law, congratulations.

He grows to be good at it, and loves to have you writhing in his arms, or better yet, have your fingers yanking at his scalp while you ride his face.

He kinda gets overwhelmed when you suck him off, years of screaming suck my cock just sort of desensitized him to the power behind the words, especially when its your mouth around his aching leaking cock. He loves having you meet his eyes, the threat of what’s to come if you look away bubbling in his veins while he presses his fingers to your throat, to feel his cock stretching that out

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

You guessed it, he’s a middle kinda man. 

He spans on both ends, most of the time leaning towards the fast and rough sex because that’s his personality, but there are more than enough times where its slow and sensual that you remember.

He enjoys having you crying out a lot, sure, but there's more than enough instances where he enjoys having you pressing gently into the bed, fingers grasping your waist, cock pushing into you just enough to create the friction that you crave. Your fluttering eyes, soundless gasps, and sweaty foreheads pressed against each other.

Yup, yup, he likes that so much better but won’t admit it.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t enjoy quickies, he feels like they’re half-assed versions of sex, sure, its exhilarating to see how fast you can possibly make each other cum, but it’s not as fun. Not enough moaning, contact, or pleasure that presents itself in quickies as a proper sex session gives.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Bakugou doesn’t mind experimenting, he’s super big on the ‘try it once to see if you like it, go on from there’ sort of mentality so he’s tried it all. Something are a bit of a long term discussion, anything ass play took some time for him to consider, and then allow you to try out in bed. But he does try anything you’re up for as long as you give the same energy back about the things he wants to try.

Risks… depends on what you consider to be a risk.

Fucking in public? Hell no, Bakugou aint gonna fuck you in public, risking his reputation and yours, just so you can milk him of his seed.  

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Stamina for fucking days son.

One round is a warm up for him. He’s used to sweating, used to fighting with every ounce of energy in his body for up to thirty minutes and walking away without so much as a sore shoulder. Fucking you is like a typical patrol without villains for him. He can go plenty upon plenty of rounds. Although, he is pretty easy to make cum.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Toys were sort of a weird subject to bring in, only because Bakugou insisted that he could do everything that a toy could do and better. After a month of arguing that no, he could not do what a toy could do, you finally caved and went to a sex shop.

He was mistaken, he can’t do everythiing a toy can do, and good god do you guys own literally everything on the planet.

Toys are meant to be shared, even Bakugou isn’t that stingy to implement that!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bakugou hates hates hates being on the receiving end of teasing. Okay, ‘not like don’t ever do it’ hate it but in a ‘i hate what it does to me’ hate it. He hates feeling inferior, on his knees begging for you to do something more than just teasing while his cock throbs on his stomach.

But oh does he love teasing. His thumb pressing down on your bottom lip, watching while your eyes are hazy in need, babbling words pouring from your mouth while he teases the shit out of you until finally giving you what you need, what you want.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Bakugou is not quiet outside of the bed, and he is definitely not quiet in bed.

He’s definitely someone who makes the rougher noises in bed, the throaty growls, puffing breathes. He’ll moan in your ear, growl by your throat, hiss against your skin. He makes every noise in the world he isn’t afraid of shit. He feels good and the entire fucking world will know if he has to.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Bakugou is a bit of a masochist, like a slight, slight masochist. 

He enjoys when you're sadistic with him, pulling his hair, and sounding. Tear at his skin, make him bleed, make him beg. He’s a hero because he can stand back up even after being hit, he must like it just the tiniest bit.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Six inches soft, seven inches hard. Thickiest fucking dick you’ve seen though, that shit be like |||| thiccc ya feel? Curves upwards, and lots of veins on dat bitch.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Definitely not as high as everyone wants it to be.

His sex drive is actually pretty average, not too high, not too low. He does get horny pretty quickly because you know how to work him, but he doesn’t walk around being half hard all the time.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Bakugou is most definitely asleep five minutes after climaxing. Most fuck sessions happen after dark so it works out just fine. In the rare times it happens in public, or in the morning he won’t fall asleep but he’s a bit spacey for about thirty minutes.

[doubleshotofsomething]

To Hell & Back

Part Two: “Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell & back”

Summary: You still hate Bucky. But you need him to keep you from going to jail... So, what’s the harm in inviting him over to dinner?

Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Warnings: Angst?? (i think). Probably typos( which will be fixed). Implied violence. 

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

--

Part one [In case you missed it]

----

It's Saturday.

Your day off. Well, what used to be your day off until it was turned into a family therapy session.

Well... Not an actual therapy session. It is literally just dinner with your family, including your sister's husband - a man you refuse to identify as your brother in law for reasons that will end in you being called the j-word. The husband, because he's the only son-in-law your parents have, has been dubbed the "referee" of the Saturday Sessions.

Each session, since you've been discharged, has made committing murder seem more and more appealing.

So appealing, that you're standing in front of your neighbour's door with a basket of muffins and a please-keep-me-from-committing-felonies smile.

Bucky, because he just spent the afternoon searching for a new bar, is standing on the other side of the door. Both confused and frightened to see you at his door voluntarily.

"Is there a bomb in that basket?" He asks, eyes roaming over you suspiciously. "Believe me, it's not gonna work."

You blink at him, then at the basket. Then back at him. "Why would I put a bomb in a muffin basket and then hold it?"

He raises a sceptical eyebrow at you.

You huff. "Fine, they're poisoned. I accidentally added laxatives while making them-"

"Accidentally?"

"Yes, accidentally-" you glare at him. "-they're not for you. They're from us."

He blinks at you, confused. You haven't spoken to him, actually spoken to him, for a few months. You avoid him like he has a disease and when your paths do cross, you just glare at him like he threw your cat into on coming traffic.

It's been a few days since the coffee machine incident. He has a brand new one - better than the last one - sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for him to develop the courage to give it to you. It should be easy. He has mastered the art of making amends.

But... He can't, for some reason, bring it to you.

"Wait-" he frowns, your words finally registering in his head, "-did you just say from us?"

You set the basket down. "So, remember when you broke my one shot at happiness?"

"Oh god." He forgot how dramatic you are, as well.

"Yeah, you can fix that little error by being a doll and-" you pause, then frown, struggling to find the right words.

"Muffin poisoned your tongue?"

"I'm trying to ask you to be my plus one for tonight's dinner-" you grit your teeth, your blood beginning to boil. "-at my parents house."

You didn't look him in the eye when you said that. And by the sounds of it, he doubts this is something he should be going to. Or something you should be going to. Not if it brings out this side of you.

"Who are the muffins for?"

They were for your sister. You broke her nose last week, which was never your intention, and the guilt has been eating you up alive since. The punch was meant for her asshole husband.

"You coming or not?"

"Let me grab a wine and the keys."

"We have muffins. No need to waste your good wine on mediocre tastes."

"I'm bringing the wine."

"If you make us stop to pick out flowers, I will watch porn with the volume on full blast every night for a week."

"Why are you always so violent?"

--

"So, how bad is it?" Bucky asks.

You've been in the car for a half an hour, because you chose the busiest route and the most congested during rush hour, and that's the first thing either of you have uttered since you politely dragged him out of his apartment.

You shrug. "Three roads lead to this one, so we'll be here another half hour."

"I mean the situation-" he drums his fingers against the wheel. "-you literally chose to be in a car with me, for the longest time possible. Either you want to get there late or you don't want to get there at all."

"Maybe I just like spending time with you."

Bucky scoffs, but doesn't question you further.

The car is silent, aside from the traffic outside, and you could almost relax. For just a moment, you could close your eyes and imagine you're somewhere else.

But you can't. Because you're not. You're on your way to a dinner that shouldn't be happening and is only happening because you're part of your neighbour's redemption list.

Because he just had to have a conscious.

"I punched my sister last week," you mumble.

Bucky wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He has met your sister, a handful of times - at the hospital, outside your room and outside your apartment door.

Every time she'd come over, she would knock hard enough to make him think she's part of SWAT team. And each time, he would could hear you scramble to switch off all devices that could alert her of your presence inside.

One time, you'd both arrived a few minutes after each other. His door was closer and already open, so you shoved your grocery in his hand and dived into his apartment to hide from your sister. He had to pretend he hasn't seen you since you left for work , and that the packet of sanitary pads that fell out were for his girlfriend.

He didn't have one.

He wants to laugh, because he doesn't like her at all. But he doesn't, because she's your sister. "What did she do?"

"She married an asshole-" you scoff. "-and decided to get in the way and I tried to punch said asshole."

At this, he grins. "And you need me there because?"

"I need you to keep me from trying to kill him," you begrudgingly admit. "I'm too high maintenance for prison."

"How bad is this guy that you need me to help you not kill him?"

"Bad enough that I'm gonna need you to park a few blocks away from the house," you turn to look at him, his confused eyes meeting yours for a quick second. "I told them we're taking the bus."

"Wow."

"Which means we only get to spend less than two hours there, if you drive a little slow-" you pause when he drives passed a McDonald's. "-hey, can we stop and get milkshake?"

He deadpans. "We have dinner plans with your parents."

"I get that you and them might have gotten along since you decided to be a hero," you glare at him. "But they're not as cool as the hospital visits made them seem."

Your parents have invited him over to dinner a handful of times, and each time he had to decline. You and him weren't on the best of terms, and he didn't want to make things worse by showing up for dinner without your knowledge.

He knows, first hand, that a few interactions aren't enough to give the full depth of a person. But he saw how devastated they were, how heartbroken they were, at the sight of tubes and needles sticking out of you.

He doesn't believe, he can't believe, for a second that they're as bad as you say they are.

But he won't argue with you. Not about this. "We'll get milkshake after."

"Hey, remember that coffee machine you br-"

"Oh, fuck you!"

***

You're not a fan of wine. At least, not the wine Bucky brought to the dinner.

An hour into the dinner and you've already had enough glasses to have Bucky worried. The wine is halfway to empty by the time dessert rolls in, and when your sister's husband clears his throat, you abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

The second hour into the dinner is where things got interested. Interesting enough for Bucky to take the bottle from you before you could throw it at someone's head. Mainly because he wanted to throw it at someone's head. Your sister's husband's head to be specific.

Just as your mother gets up to start making tea for the muffins you brought, Bucky is the first on his feet and the first to use the 'we have to get going before we miss the bus' excuse.

You grin at him, vision slightly hazy from the wine you drank on an empty stomach.

"Mhmm," you hum as you cling into him to get to your feet, "the bus. We gotta- the bus. Bah-yeee."

"I'll make sure she gets home safe," he promises to your parents and they believe him.

Hell, you believe him. If there's one thing you can trust your neighbour to do, it's to save your life. But not your coffee machine.

He guides back to the car, which is parked exactly where you told him to, and he's never been happier to have listened to you. You sing all the way back, some ridiculous song about when you're fat and old, and you're the most content he's ever seen you.

Drunk off wine, eyes glassy and smile wide, as you try to mimic his steps. You sigh when you get into your seat, even though you fight him on opening your own door, and fumble lazily with your seat belt until he helps you clip it in.

Your struggle to find a comfortable position, but forget all about that when he parks the car outside your favourite coffee shop. You're out before he can even unclip his seatbelt and you're inside before he makes it to the door.

"Hi," you whisper-yell as you lean against the counter. "Pssst. Hi. Hello."

The barista blinks at you. Bucky cuts in before he can get a word out. "We'll take coffee. Filter. And anything that's bread-"

"-don't listen to him, he breaks hearts for a living. Sometimes he rips them out." I jab your pointer finger against the countertop. "I will take the strongest coffee you've got. I'm in the mood for bad decisions and-"

"We'll be at the booth, in the back." Bucky gently pries you from the counter. "One coffee and two bottles of water-"

You try to smack his hands away. "Why must you be so- Barnes, I swear to god, I will take your parking space."

He shoves you into the booth, then takes a seat opposite you. You attempt to make a break for the counter, but the glare he fixes you with is enough to keep you in your place.

It should scare you. The look he gives you. You know what he is capable of, without mad scientists to control him, you know the damage he's done. It takes a special kind of strength to face people like the flag smashers, and a special kind of crazy to go after them.

Bucky is both. And yet, his glare doesn't scare you. So much so, that you return it.

"I hate your brother-in-law-"

"Sister's husband," you cut in to correct him. "I refuse to recognise him as my anything."

He nods. "Right. So, let me get this straight-"

Bucky pauses as the barista sets down the coffee, the water, two croissants, some breadsticks and a garlic roll. When he's satisfied that there's nothing else, he leaves you alone with Bucky and the breads.

"You got work tomorrow-" he puts sugar into your coffee and stirs, before handing it to you. "-so you're gonna need to eat as much, so that it absorbs all that wine."

You glare at him but still do as he says. He's right and you'd rather sulk than admit it.

"So," he clears his throat to get your attention. "Your sister is an asshole, that married an asshole. And your parents are enablers of all that bullshit?"

You nod, practically shoving the garlic bread into your mouth. You didn't touch the food your mother cooked and, other than that milkshake Bucky bought you, you haven't had anything to eat all day.

"Instead of just sending you to therapy-" he scrunches his face in disgust at the thought. "-I can't fucking believe I'm advocating for that, but instead of paying for therapy. They do that? Host a dinner, sit a circle and kumbaya the problems away?"

Taking a sip from your coffee, you continue to nod. "Is it helping?"

He frowns, meeting your eyes. "What?"

"The mandated sessions-"you swallow. "-I heard you and Wings talking about it."

Thin walls. Shared balconies. Despite not being in each other's life, both of you know more than enough because of your apartments.

Your balcony and his are separated by a small barrier, but you can still hear his conversations - and visa versa- if you leave your glass door open enough when he's out there.

The wall that separates your apartment is thin enough for him to pick up on your habits. You don't think you're a creature of habit, but he would disagree.

He can tell, just from your foot steps, what you're going to watch or do in the living room. From the little sounds you make, he can tell which series you're binge watching for the umpteenth time and which one is on just for background noise.

If you weren't a creature of habit, he wouldn't have found you in time. You wouldn't be sitting in front of him, asking about his wellbeing, instead of dealing with yours.

"Wings is Captain now," he corrects, and you accept the deflection.

You would never overstep, or push. Not with him. Never with him.

"If Captain, why Wings?"

Narrowing his eyes, he pushes the bread sticks closer to you. "Fine, Captain Wings."

Again, you obey the silent instruction.

"Where were we-"

"We were plotting an asshole's abduction," you tell him, "and then dropping him off at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. If that's not available, then maybe near Dyer Island."

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Why would we drop your sister’s husband on an Island?”

"It's a place, with a shitload of great white sharks."

"And you know this because?"

"I like to always be prepared."

"For what?" His brows furrow. "Do you just know random places to dump people that–"

You cut in. "–will lead to an inevitable death by natural causes? Yes."

He stares at you. Actually stares. Openly, at you. He can't remember the last time he did that, looked at you, for no other reason than to just look.

You didn't always hate him. When he first moved into your apartment building, and the landlord introduced you too, you were indifferent. He didn't think you knew who he was, most people don't at first glance, so he was relieved. Indifference was definitely better than everything else.

That was until you walked passed him and Sam in the lobby of the building, a week after he moved in.

"Sarge–" you nodded at him, as you checked your mail. Then nodded at Sam as you made your way out of the building. "–Wings."

You knew, you always knew who he was, and just didn't care. That was refreshing, to say the least.

The hate only came that night, or the following morning, he wasn't sure. All Bucky knows is, he meddled, and now you hate him for it. For saving you.

He's tried to talk to you about it. Countless of times, he's tried, and each time you hate him a little bit more. Or so it seems.

He wants to talk about it now. It's obvious in the way he's looking at you, like he can't believe you're here, in front of him. You can't either, but you won't ever admit that to him.

Hell would sooner freeze over before you actually admitted that maybe, just maybe, he should have meddled sooner.

You won't. So, instead, you put down the bread stick and sit back. "I know a really cool coffee place... If you still need a new place to hang."

It's an olive branch. You don't ever say what you really mean, he knows that, and he smiles at that little fact. That he knows that, he knows you.

"Is the barista as dramatic as I hear?"

"Only to strangers that break down her doors," you shrug. "Oh, and guys who break her coffee machine–"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

You grin. Because you're just as petty as he is.

---

Tags: @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ , @arctic-duchess​

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #37

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Cooper J. Anderson (Big Brother) 

“It’s a misnomer that only certain people can play the leading romantic roles. Of course, there are some people, such as myself, who embody both looks and smarts and therefore don’t have to put in as much effort. However, acting is about presentation. So, even if you are ugly, if you act hard enough, you, too, can still land the lead in the quirky rom-com of your choice. Believe me, I know. I have watched over two-hundred films, and most of those actors are just not as good looking as I am.”

Cooper J. Anderson takes a chair in his parents’ dining room and turns it around to sit on it backwards. His baby brother (Blaine) and his baby brother’s boyfriend (Kurt) had been doing their homework that afternoon when he had walked through to get a protein bar for his afternoon snack. He had been stopped but Kurt, who had asked if he had any more acting advice. Of course who is he to deny his own expertise in the field?

Kurt is looking up at him with wide eyes, frantically nodding as he speaks. Blaine could work on his enthusiasm, though. Frown lines are bad for the soul. How many times does he have to tell his baby brother that?

“What do you actually know about being a romantic lead?” Blaine asks. If there’s sarcasm in his voice, Cooper doesn’t catch it. Because it is a great question. And he always has more wisdom to impart.

“I have had to play the romantic lead in over four commercials,” Cooper says, a hand to his chest. “And I have found that there are three keys to making sure that you are leading man material. Would you like to hear them?”

Kurt’s hanging on to his every word. “Oh, yes, definitely!”

“What? Don’t indulge him,” Blaine says.

Cooper points a finger at Blaine though remains fixated on Kurt. “Not a rule, just a piece of general advice -- ignore him. He would rather be on stage instead of in front of a camera. And he has no idea what he’s talking about.”

“Thanks, Coop…”

“And how many commercials have you been in, Blainey? Oh that's what I thought. Zero. So, why don't you listen?"

Blaine rolls his eyes at him.

"Rule number one,” Cooper says, his voice loud and booming. Presence is, afterall, everything. He grabs a cantaloupe that happens to be sitting in a bowl in the middle of the dining room table. It will make for a great scene partner. “Good chemistry comes from them wanting you. So you have to make them want you. How? By giving them your best sexy stare that says -- I know I am good looking and you know you want this.” Cooper gives his best smouldering look to the cantaloupe.

“Oh, my god…” Blaine’s jaw drops open.

“Rule number two,” he holds up two fingers to illustrate, “is talking.”

Blaine tilts his head. “Really, talking? That’s it? So, if I just continue to talk right now I’ll get all the leads? Great advice, Cooper, I’m just going to keep talking until--”

Cooper, again, points his finger in Blaine’s face. “Hush. Hater. I’m trying to teach Kurt some real world advice.”

“Oh, that’s what this is? You’ve been in LA for six months because Denver, Colorado wasn’t working out for you. Though, really, you’ve spent most of your time in Columbus, Ohio - so I don’t know how much real world advice you really have...”

Kurt is gleefully watching between the two of them. Good to know he still has his real audience.

“Shut up, Blaine, rule number two is talking,” Cooper says quickly over Blaine’s continued babble. “You have to tell your scene partner that you are the one that they want.” He continues his sensual gaze at the cantaloupe. “Baby, I know you want a piece of this. Let’s make sweet, sweet love and if we’re lucky, we’ll make a bunch of melon balls.”

“And this has landed you four commercials?” Blaine asks. “I really have to say I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Blaine. Finally some positivity out of your mouth,” Cooper says. “I did hit it out of the park with all four of the female casting agents I auditioned for. Maybe you’ll have better luck with the male casting agents. We’ll just have to see. They did not seem to appreciate my methodology much.”

“Shocking.” Blaine deadpans.

“Okay, okay,” Kurt says excitedly. “What’s rule number three?”

“Rule number three,” Cooper says, his voice demanding attention. “Is seduction. You have to show your partner just how much they should want you.”

Kurt tilts his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t. He’s insane,” Blaine mutters under his breath.

Cooper holds up the fruit again. “Let me demonstrate on my scene partner who, I have to say Blaine, is much more giving than any actor that I’ve had to work with yet…”

“It’s a cantaloupe!”

“Blaine, I’m working, no distractions…” Cooper brings the cantaloupe to his lips and begins to kiss it. Not some lame peck. He is, after all, full method. He kisses the hell out of that fruit, open mouth, tongue gliding on the (god, ew, bitter bitter bitter) rind, some slobber but not too much. It’s important to be a good kisser after all. After another moment, he pulls off the fruit, trying to play down his grimace as he wipes his lips. “See - that is rule number three.”

“Yay!” Kurt lets out a little squeak.

Blaine is nearly doubling over in laughter. “My phone is charging. Do you mind if I grab it so you can demonstrate again? I think this is definitely something the internet needs to see.”

Cooper is about to make a retort and Kurt surprises him. “No, no, Blaine, I wanna try,” Kurt says, turning to face Blaine.

“Yes, okay, good, a scene to direct,” Cooper hands out the cantaloupe.

“Please don’t make out with a fruit,” Blaine says.

Kurt waves his hand at it. “No, I’m trying it out on you, silly.”

“Oh!” Blaine perks up.

“Oh?” Cooper tilts his head. This is not what he had been expecting, but he can work with it. “Okay, Kurt, remember the three rules. And…. action!”

Kurt schooches closer to Blaine. He bites his lip, pretending to be unsure while looking Blaine up and down. And then begins to give Blaine a deeply sensual look, glancing from his eyes to his lips to his eyes again. A smirk climbs on Kurt’s face as he hovers his lips above Blaine’s. Blaine is in unexpected shock

“Okay, good, good,” Cooper commentates. “You’re a little closer than I feel comfortable with, but I think it’s working. Rule number two -- talking.”

“Blaine…” Kurt’s voice is much lower than Cooper expects. It’s a little rumbly and raspy, and completely unnerving that someone would speak to his baby brother that way. “You make my heart undone. Your skin lights my soul on fire. I would make love to you until the sun rises, and even then it might not be enough to express how deeply I feel about you.”

“Okay, well, that’s a little more about him than you…” Cooper interjects. “Still, good effort.”

Kurt moves in for a kiss. It’s gentle, at first, but then he leans into it. Blaine opens his mouth, accepting the kiss, turning it much more heated than Cooper needs to see.

“Okay, and end scene,” Cooper says. They continue to kiss. He’s pretty sure he’s witnessing tongue. “What are you guys doing? You’re, like, twelve, and I called the scene....” Blaine lets out a little moan. Okay, this is becoming less and less about him… “Guys, it’s seriously time to end the scene.”

They break apart, both looking a little dizzy and giddy. “Thanks for the advice, Coop,” Blaine says, standing up, taking Kurt’s hand in the process.

“Well, I do have a few notes…”

“Nope, we’re good,” Blaine says, pulling Kurt up. Kurt’s grinning at him. “We’ll be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Cooper yells as they scurry out of the room. “I’m supposed to be babysitting you. Blaine, get back here! Blaine!”

Cooper lets out a huff as he stares at the cantaloupe resting on the table. Well… if they’re busy, maybe he can work on his next audition tape for Michael Bay. He picks up the cantaloupe and bounces it into the air. And he can’t go wrong with a good prop.

[dreamypeaches]

let’s hear it for the boy | jj maybank x reader

summary: you take on the role of jj’s hype woman as his insecurities begin to overwhelm him.

warnings: alcohol use, cursing, allusions to sex

word count: 2k

a/n: i listened to this song (let’s hear it for the boys by deniece williams) on the way to work the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about how much it applies to jj. so here’s this tooth rotting fluff fic. i threw another parks and rec reference in. idk what it is but jj and his girl give me subtle april and andy vibes. enjoy :)

This was not the first time you had ended up like this with JJ. Curled up on his bed in the Chateau, holding him close as he complained about his dad or the Kooks or just life in the Outer Banks. Tonight was different though. JJ had fallen deeper into his thoughts than ever before, picking out every one of his flaws and insecurities and laying them out bare for you.

You listened with a frown on your face as your boyfriend continued to shit on himself. Usually you would stay quiet, inserting kind words here and there, but letting him vent to you until he was finished or he fell asleep. Tonight, however, you had to interrupt when JJ took it too far.

“I’m such a piece of shit, Y/N, why are you even with me? You should just fucking leave, I’m sure you would be a lot happier.”

“Hey!” You nearly shouted, causing JJ to jump from your arms and turning to look at you with wide eyes. You sat up on your knees, taking JJ’s face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. You’d had enough. Tonight, you were going to tell this magnificent boy in front of you just how amazing he is.

“I love you, JJ! I’m not going anywhere! You are the most amazing person I have ever met!”

JJ’s eyes softened slightly at the words, but right now is insecurity was louder than your voice.

“You shouldn’t be with a guy like me. I’m going to hurt you, Y/N. I’m going to say something I don’t mean and fuck it all up because that’s just who I am. I’m just a dirty Pogue from the Cut.”

You released his head and shook your own.

“JJ, you can’t really believe that.” You spoke. Words of encouragement and adoration tumbled from your lips as you began to discuss exactly why JJ was the best man in the world.

He ain't got much to say

But he loves me, loves me, loves me

I know that he loves me anyway

JJ always had a way with words. He could lie his way out of any situation and charm himself into another one. Hell, he had found a way to charm you into his life. But when he finally had you, he started falling for you hard. The words suddenly became stuck in his throat, all the love and emotions he felt for you falling to the wayside. It frustrated him, not being able to find the words to tell you how much he loved you. You knew though.

With you, JJ didn’t have a way with words, he had a way of making you feel loved with just a single touch. The way he held you close to him at a Kegger, his hand in yours helping you onto the Pogue, the passionate kisses and bruising grip on your hips as he pounded into you. He didn’t have to say it. You knew he loved you, beyond a doubt.

And maybe he don't dress fine

But I don't really mind

'Cause every time he pulls me near

I just wanna cheer

Your sister was getting married, and all the Pogues were invited. Standing in your bridesmaids dress by your parents at the entrance to the venue, you saw the familiar orange van pull up and the door slide open. John B jumped out with Sarah, wearing a nice shirt and pants that his girlfriend surely picked out for him. Pope was next, and you recognized the suit he was wearing as the same one he wore to his scholarship interview. In a beautiful, but simple sundress, Kiara popped out behind Pope. Trailing behind them, your eyes softened at your boyfriend, who wore the only button up shirt he owned with a pair of khaki cargo shorts, his usual black boots, and his signature red hat sitting backward on his head. You felt your mother tense up beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “What on earth is JJ wearing?”

You ignored your mom, too busy grinning at your approaching boyfriend. His grin was just as wide, scooping you up in his arms and kissing you hard.

“Hello my beautiful girlfriend!”

“Hi my interestingly dressed boyfriend.” He put you down, stepping back and looking down at himself before meeting your eyes.

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” He questioned with a furrowed brow. You giggled and pulled him back to you, shaking your head.

“Nothing, baby, you look amazing,” You said truthfully.

“Damn right I do.”

Let's hear it for the boy

Let's give the boy a hand

Let's hear it for my baby

JJ buried his face in your chest as you spoke. You ran your finger though his hair, feeling him groan as you finish talking about the wedding.

“God, that fit was so terrible.”

“Yeah, it was, but it was also super adorable, just like you.”

He groaned again making you giggle.

“Do remember what happened at the reception though?” You asked. He shook his head and peeked up at you. A small smile on your face, you recount the night with stars in your eyes.

You know you gotta understand

Maybe he's no Romeo

But he's my loving one-man show

Let's hear it for the boy

JJ held you close on his lap as you sat with the rest of the Pogues. You watched your sister dancing with her new wife, a small smile on your face. Kiara poked you, stealing your attention away.

“So, when are you two gonna tie the knot?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows. The hands on your thighs tightened their grip and you turned to look at JJ. He had a drunken smirk on his face as he gazed down at you.

“What do you say, sunshine? Wanna get married? Wedding sex is always amazing, imagine what it’s like when your the one getting married,” He said, winking.

You scoffed, turning back around and getting up from his lap.

“How romantic, J,” You say before walking off toward the bar. Kie slapped the back of JJ’s head, giving him a look that said What the hell?

JJ sighs and stands, following after you.

“Baby…” JJ stands before you as you take your drink from the bartender, not meeting his eyes. He grips your hip with one hand, the other gently taking your chin and tilting it up. You sigh and push his arm away.

“It’s fine, JJ, I know you were just joking.”

“What makes you say that?”

You freeze looking back at him, stomach fluttering at the sincere look on his face. Taking your hand, he pulls you closer, brushing your hair behind your ear and resting his palm on your cheek.

“I want to marry you, sunshine, more than anything. I’m sorry for the shit proposal, but I’ll make it up you.”

You grin up at him.

“Promise?”

He leans down, lips ghosting over yours.

“Promise.”

JJ was on his side now, head propped up on his hand. He was smiling down at you as he remembered the night with you.

“I still haven’t made it up to you.”

“Oh you have, a million times over.”

My baby may not be rich

He's watching every dime

But he loves me, loves me, loves me

We always have a real good time

Dates with JJ were always special. He pulled out all the stops, using whatever tips or extra cash he had made that week to get you a special dinner or a gift. Some weeks were less successful than others, and this was one of them. Most of his money had gone to his bike, which was in the shop. But his empty wallet wasn’t going to stop him from showing his girlfriend a good time.

You grinned as you pulled up to the Chateau, seeing your boyfriend waiting for you near the dock. You hopped out of your car and raced down to him, jumping into his arms. After a long kiss, you rest your forehead on his.

“How was your day?” You ask.

“Better now that I have you, sunshine.”

He sets you down and takes your hand, leading you down the dock to the HMS Pogue. A blanket is laid out in the back with some pillows scattered around, along with a cooler with two wine glasses sitting on top of it. JJ helps you into the boat, kissing your hand before releasing it and moving to start the boat.

The colors of the sunset are painting the sky in beautiful oranges, purples, and pinks by the time JJ stops the boat and throws down the anchor. He joins you on the blanket, opening up the cooler and pulling out a bottle of wine, a carton of strawberries, and a jar of Nutella. As he popped open the bottle and poured the wine into the glass, you shook your head at him.

“J, you’ve really out done yourself.”

He grins, handing you your glass.

“Yeah, well, wait till you taste the wine. It was like twelve bucks at the gas station.”

“I think we can agree that all wine tastes the same, and if you spend more than $15 on wine, then you are very stupid.”

JJ raised his glass with a wink, “I’ll drink to that.”

You spend the rest of the night cuddling on the Pogue, eating strawberries and getting wine drunk, watching as the colorful sky faded into a dark, sparkling one. As you got ready to head back to shore, you pulled JJ in for a passionate kiss.

“How did I get so lucky?” You questioned.

“Nah, sunshine, I’m the lucky one.”

And maybe he sings off-key

But that's all right by me, yeah

A karaoke machine, some cheap liquor, and a very drunk JJ Maybank was an amazing combination. Being just as drunk, if not drunker, you couldn’t stop your laughter as the love of your life terribly sang Dear Maria, Count Me In at the top of his lungs. He fell into your lap, face scrunched together at the intensity with which he was singing. You clapped louder than any of the other Pogues, who were just as far gone as you, as JJ sang the final words. He dropped his head dramatically, looking up quickly to sweep his hair out of his face without touching it. As JJ took your hand, pulling you up for a duet, you silently thanked Kie’s parents for cleaning out their basement and not throwing away the shitty karaoke machine from Kiara’s 11th birthday.

'Cause what he does, he does so well

Makes me wanna yell

Let's hear it for the boy

“I love you, J. You’re the greatest person in the whole fucking universe, aliens included. You’re the best friend and the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. Don’t let anyone, especially yourself, tell you differently.”

You rolled over to straddle JJ, taking his head in your hands.

Let's give the boy a hand

Let's hear it for my baby

“I love you, JJ Maybank. I will scream it from the rooftops because everyone needs to know that I am dating the most amazing man I have ever known. But right now, I want just you to hear it. You’re amazing, JJ Maybank.”

You kiss his cheek.

“You’re the funniest guy.”

You kiss the other cheek.

“You have great music taste, but a terrible singer.”

You kiss an eyelid,

“You plan the most amazing dates.”

then the other.

“You make me feel loved.”

A kiss on the forehead.

“Cherished.”

A kiss on the chin.

“Adored.”

You dive in for an intense and hungry kiss, soon pulling away to look deep into his crystal blue eyes.

“Loved.” You whisper. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you close to bury hie head in your chest. You feel tears begin to soak your shirt as he trails kisses across the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“God, I love you so much, sunshine. You’re my whole fucking world.”

He pulls you down for another kiss, rolling you over onto your back. His hands wander your body as he prepares to make you feel as good as you make him.

Let's hear it for the boy

Let's hear it for my man

Let's hear it for my baby

taglist + moots: @jjmaybby @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @rekrappeter @diverdcwn @rafecameron @prejudic3 @starlightstarkey @https-luna @sunnypogue @obxmxybxnk @jjmayybank @bluesiderudy @socialwriter @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @jjbinghams @outerbanksbro @poguestyleskye @softstarkey @bricksatanakinswindow @drewsephsmiles @poguemackin @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @broken-jj

[honey-dewey]

Handicapped Parking

Pairing: Javier Peña/disabled Reader

Word Count: 2,992

Warnings: Reader is wheelchair bound, canon-typical violence, nightmares, small bit of angst, one use of (F/N) (L/N).

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Javier could not believe what he was seeing. A handicapped parking spot at the embassy. Who the hell worked at the US embassy and for the DEA that was disabled enough to need handicapped parking? You, that’s who. The brand new recruit and official partner for Steve and Javier, you are about to be hell on wheels for those two boys.

Javier Peña had never seen anything like what he was seeing now. A handicapped spot right in front of the building with a car parked in it. A new car that hadn’t been there yesterday. As Javier parked, he eyed the spot. Who the hell chose a job like this if they were disabled? Best anyone could do was paperwork, and that was mind numbing. 

Javier almost forgot about it as he walked into the building, greeting the same people he did every morning. Steve was at his desk, hunched over some new paperwork, and he looked up when Javier walked in. “Hey, Javi. Check this out. We have a new partner.” 

“Hm?” Javier lit a cigarette. It was too early for this. 

A paper was pushed across the desk. “Yeah. Hired yesterday. Meant to keep us in check.” 

Javier snorted, reading over the papers. “This says,” he said, looking up at Steve. “This says they’re disabled.” 

“So what if I am?” 

You had just come back from a very frustrating bathroom break to find your other new partner standing at his desk. You rolled forward, holding out a hand. “(F/N) (L/N), DEA.” 

Javier shook your hand and introduced himself. You slotted you and your wheelchair into your desk, which was perpendicular to Steve’s and Javier’s. “So, anything new?” 

Steve explained everything they knew and what their current goal was, and you raised an eyebrow.

“He’s in prison,” you pointed out. “Why are we trying to disrupt that.” 

“We want his ass in a real prison,” Javier grumbled without looking up from his typewriter. “Not that palace he calls a jail.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, looking over the terms and conditions of the surrender. “So we prove he’s violating these terms. Easy.” 

Steve shrugged. “Not as easy as it sounds. Cigarette?” 

You wrinkled your nose at the offered cigarette. “I don’t smoke.” 

“Okay. One less person I gotta share with,” Steve said, holding his cigarette out to Javier, who picked up his lighter and lit it all without looking up. 

The three of you worked in silence for a while. You managed to go through four pots of coffee before three PM, which would’ve been only mildly concerning. However, you and Steve each only had maybe a pot and a half between you. Javier drank the other two and a half pots. So it was mildly concerning for you and Steve, and pretty damn concerning for Javier. 

“Jesus I don’t know how your heart hasn’t given out yet,” you said when Javier went back for his seventh or maybe eighth cup of coffee. 

“This is a light day for him,” Steve said, looking up when someone placed a piece of paper on his desk. “Usually he’ll have three pots and I’ll have one. He doesn’t sleep much.” 

You made a face, putting new paper into your typewriter. Javier came back with his coffee cup and immediately groaned upon seeing Steve reading the paper. “Who wants us to do what?” 

Steve chuckled. “You remember that pigeon coup? They want us to stake it out.” 

Another groan, this time a bit louder. You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing while looking expectantly at Steve. “Can I see?” 

Steve handed you the paper and you read it over. “Well. I guess that solves our violating the terms problem.” 

The stakeout was to last as long as it had to, and as you pulled up to the prison before dawn on one warm morning, you immediately knew this would be hell. Steve and Javier took turns waiting outside while you sat in the car, your typewriter in your lap. Your window was open and you occasionally handed the boys whatever they needed from inside the car. 

Finally, when the sun began to crest the hills, you braved the outside. Strapping your crutches to your arms, you swung your legs out and slowly made your way across the grass. 

“I thought you couldn’t walk.” Javier said as soon as you were standing beside him. 

“I can,” you promised. “Car accident. Left me paralyzed, but with lots of therapy, I was able to regain some of my legs. I just prefer the chair because no matter what, my legs won’t support my weight for more than a few steps. When I walk I use crutches and braces to keep my knees, ankles, and waist stable.” 

Steve whistled, handing Javier a thermos. “I’ve never seen crutches like that before.” 

“Gutter crutches.” You watched Javier take one sip of the coffee and immediately pour the rest of it out onto the ground. “Mostly for long term work. Is that a pigeon?” 

Steve turned and Javier raised his gun. Three wasted shots later, and you were scoffing. “Damn. You’re a shit shot Peña.” 

“Think you can do better?” 

You took the gun, abandoning your crutches and catching the next pigeon in your sight. Your legs wavered, but you locked your knees and tried to stay steady. “I got it.”

“Shoot.” 

You waited, ignoring Javier. 

“Shoot!” 

Again, you waited until the perfect moment before shooting and killing the pigeon in one shot. 

Steve smiled, taking the gun from you. “Ever been duck hunting?” 

Javier watched him jog after the pigeon. “No, I’ve not been duck hunting you fucking hillbilly.” 

You wavered, falling flat on your ass as your knees gave out. “Damn these legs!” You swore, grabbing your discarded crutches and strapping them to your arms. By the time you’d finally struggled to your feet, Steve was back with the pigeon. 

“Thanks for the help,” you said sourly at Javier, who had simply watched you grapple upright. 

“In my experience,” he said in an equally cool tone. “People like you don’t need much help. I’m sure all I would’ve gotten was a crutch to the knee for my help.” 

You glared at him while he read the small letter tied to the pigeon’s leg. God you hated that man. 

The next few months were odd. You fell into a rhythm with Steve and Javier. Neither underestimated you anymore, and finally, they learned exactly where your boundaries lay with help. Steve had a bruise on his leg for two straight weeks after you whacked him with your crutch when he asked if you needed help shooting a gun (you most definitely did not) and Javier only ever gave you help when he noticed you struggling. Like when some new intern put the coffee mugs too high for you to reach without standing up and Javier had, very kindly, silently handed you your mug. He did a lot of things silently, usually with that scowl on his face. 

“We got a call,” Steve said one day, poking his head into your office space, if it could even be called that. “Let’s go!” 

You groaned, standing and hearing your back pop four times as you followed Steve out, your crutches clicking on the linoleum as you headed to the waiting Jeep. 

“Why’s Javi driving?” You asked as you got into the back. “I get so carsick when he drives!” 

Javier gave you a look in the rearview mirror. “Strap in sugar.” 

You rolled your eyes. None of you wore seatbelts. You just didn’t have time for it. So instead, you simply gripped the back of Steve’s seat while Javier drove like a maniac towards your destination. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you grumbled as you got out of the car, shaking off the car sickness and looking around. Nothing seemed very out of the ordinary aside from the cop cars surrounding a particular building. “Who’s in there?” 

“We don’t know,” Steve said, helping you with your tac vest. “Whoever it is, they’re worth the cavalry.” 

Half of your job was waiting, which was hell. You stood leaned up against Steve, trying to keep your weight off your aching back. As the minutes ticked by, you talked to one of the younger cops who’d been left outside. He was sweet, teaching you a few Spanish phrases and smiling when you butchered them. 

So of course, when the man you were trying to catch raced out of the building, wildly firing his gun, the young cop got a bullet to the back of the head. 

“Shit!” You yelled, looking around as the man raced off. You yanked your crutches off your arms and gestured to Javier. “Come on!” 

Javier was on your heels as you ran, trying to steady your feet and knees. Your hips and lower back screamed, but you just kept going, relying entirely on your braces to support you. 

Eventually, the stress became too much. Two blocks down, your legs stopped working, sending you screaming to the ground, wildly throwing your hands out to catch yourself before you broke your nose on something. Thankfully, the road was long and flat, so as soon as you righted yourself, you raised your gun and shot the guy in the shoulder. 

He went down, clutching his shoulder in pain while you breathed heavy, dragging your limp lower half over to the wall of a building, leaning against the worn down brick. 

“Hey,” Javier said, coming to stand in front of you. “You ran.” 

“I ran,” you agreed, holding your left knee as it twitched. “That’s a week and a half of chair time, straight. Fuck.” 

Javier sat beside you, watching cops run past to grab the man you’d been chasing. “You want help back?” 

You snorted. “Javi, I won’t make it three steps like this.” To demonstrate, you attempted to haul yourself upright and almost immediately hit the pavement, hissing sharply as you came down harder than intended. 

“So.” Javier looked you up and down. “Is that a no?” 

“Yeah that’s a no.” You stared at the sky, feeling your stomach twist. “Y’know what I want? A cup of tea. I haven’t had one in a while.”

Javier shrugged. “I’ve got a really good tea at my apartment,” he said. “My mother mails me some once a month. You’re bleeding.” 

You looked down at your hands, finally noticing the ragged scrapes across your palms from when you’d fallen. “Oh. I didn’t even notice.” 

“How’d you not notice?” Javier asked, taking your hands and digging through his pockets. “We can disinfect it for real back at the office, but for now,” he said, producing a small roll of gauze from his pocket. “This will have to do.” 

You sat still while Javier bandaged your hands. By then, the street had been completely cleared, and you were looking for Steve. 

“He’s probably waiting in the car,” Javier said, finishing up on your hands. “We’re gonna have to go to him.” He looked hesitantly at your legs. They’d stopped twitching, but they were still completely useless. “Got any ideas?” 

“Unless you wanna carry me,” you said with a sigh. “It’d probably be easiest to call Steve.”

Javier stood, crouching down in front of you. “Can you get on?” 

It took some maneuvering and a bit of heavy lifting on Javier’s part, but eventually, you were being carried back to the Jeep, arms slung over Javier’s shoulders and him gripping your legs as he gave you a piggyback ride. 

“Comfy?” He asked, and you chuckled. 

“Mhm. Totally not in horrible pain,” you replied, feeling yet another stab of discomfort hit your back. 

Javier was quiet for a minute before speaking again. “Why’d you come here? No offense, but you’re not exactly fit for the job.” 

“Like I got to pick this,” you said, leaning to cheek against Javier’s shoulder. “I was reassigned. I never asked to come down here.” 

Another long beat of silence, and then, “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah. It’s fine,” you promised. “Just a bit stressful sometimes.” 

Eventually, the car came back into view, and Steve rushed over to meet you, your crutches in his hand. “What were you thinking?” 

“Chase the bad guy,” you said, smiling as Javier turned around and put you down in the car. “Really, I wasn’t. I just went.” 

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, ever the voice of reason. “Don’t do that again. You scared me.” 

The drive back to the office was quiet. Javier had to carry you inside the building, and Steve found a hot water bottle to press against your back. Javier finished properly treating your hands while Steve filled the water bottle with water from the kettle. 

“Really, a hot bath will probably help the most,” you said, putting the hot water bottle in between your back and the chair you used whenever you didn’t need your wheelchair. “But this’ll do for now.” 

Your night was late, as it always was. You weren’t attempting to leave the building until well past ten PM, and when you tried to stand, Javier put a hand on your shoulder. “Nope.” 

“No?” You said, surprised. “Let me up Javi, unless you want a crutch to the ankle.” 

Javier didn’t move. Instead, he scooped you up in a bridal carry, causing you to squeak indignantly. “Javier!” 

“Yes?” 

“Put me down! I am more than capable of walking myself to your car!” 

Javier shrugged as best he could while carrying you. “You had me piggyback you two blocks earlier and you couldn’t get up all day to get your own coffee. I’m carrying you to the car.” 

You pouted, but realized that squirming would only serve to hurt you and probably Javier as well, so you remained still as Javier placed you in his car. 

The drive home was, as with most things Javier did, quiet. When he pulled up to the building, you made him go into your apartment across the hall from his and grab your wheelchair. When he came back, you smacked him away when he tried to help you into it. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, feeling your back pop painfully. “Fuck.” 

“C’mon,” Javier said softly, handing you back our crutches so you could put them across your lap. “I believe I promised you tea.” 

You sighed. “Javi, I wanna go home.” 

Javier nodded. “I’ll bring it to you. How’s that sound?” 

At the notion that Javier would be coming to your apartment, you sighed and gave in. “Fine. I’ll leave it unlocked.” 

Ten minutes after you’d gotten settled on your couch, Javier came into your apartment, carrying two cups of tea. He set one down on your coffee table and kept the other in his hands. “Feeling better?” 

“Yeah, actually,” you said, reaching and grabbing the mug. “Painkillers are my new best friend.” 

Javier sat down on the couch. “You know you could ask to be sent home,” he said. “They’d probably do it.” 

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “But then I wouldn’t be able to see you or Steve anymore.” 

“That’s what’s keeping you here? Me and Steve?” 

You nodded. “Javi, before this, no one would even look at me. I was disabled and trying to work in law enforcement. You and Steve treat me like a capable adult, and people actually listen to what I have to say now.” 

Javier was quiet. “That sucks.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” You took a sip of your tea, smiling. “This is good.” 

“Custom blend,” Javier said. “Mamá always insisted it could cure anything.” 

You smiled. “You tell her to mail some extra if she can. It’s amazing.” 

You and Javier sat in your living room until midnight, drinking tea and swapping work stories. Finally, when you began to yawn, Javier stood. “I think it’s time for bed.” 

“Aww,” you groaned, pulling your wheelchair closer. “But I was having so much fun.” 

Javier smiled as you sat in your wheelchair and headed towards your bedroom. “Need anything before I go?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, actually. Can you help me into bed? When my back hurts a lot it’s kind of hard to haul myself into bed.” 

“Sure.” 

Between you and Javier, you were able to slide into bed, immediately feeling weary. “Javi?”

“Hm?” Javier turned, standing in your doorway. “What is it?” 

You fidgeted nervously. “Stay? Please? I’ve started having nightmares recently and they really scare me.” 

Javier nodded. “Okay. Let me grab my pyjamas, I’ll be right back.” 

By the time Javier had returned, you were half asleep. He waved to you and settled down on your couch, likely not falling asleep, but you sure as hell did. 

It was early morning, before sunrise but well after midnight, that you woke up, breathing heavy and immediately starting to cry. The shattered pieces of your nightmare were practically gone now, leaving you with nothing but jitters, a looming sense of dread, and the image of blinding headlights in your brain. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice said, and you jumped, heart pounding before you remembered you’d asked Javier to spend the night. “Are you okay?” 

You shook your head. No point in trying to lie to him. He could see you crying. 

Javier slid into the bed with you, pulling you close and letting you cry into his shirt. When you were spent of tears, he continued to rub your back, his warmth seeping into your skin. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“I don’t remember much,” you admitted. “I think.” You had to force your words out, your throat pulling tight. “I think I dreamed I was in the car accident.” 

Javier was quiet. “You’re fine,” he promised after a beat. “Hey, you hear me?” 

You nodded, wondering when you’d begun to shake. 

“You’re safe here,” Javier said. “Safe as can be.” 

“I trust you,” you said softly, still buried in Javier’s shirt. “Trust you a lot,” you mumbled, yawning widely and feeling your eyes blink shut. 

“I think you need more sleep,” Javier said softly, helping you lay back down. “Agent’s orders.” 

You smiled, the sick feeling in your stomach sliding away. “Mhm. Stay with me Agent Peña.” 

Javier lay down beside you, pulling you close. “If you insist.” 

For the first time in a long time, both of you slept fitfully, cradled in each other’s arms.

[everybodyscupoftea]

the hangover

frat jj x reader

words: 1225

warnings: alcohol, swearing, excessive softness

synopsis: jj takes care of his very hungover girlfriend

a/n: please drink responsibly, unlike depicted here

i also got asked to tag @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ and if anyone else wants to be tagged in frat jj stuff let me know, i wasn’t sure if that was a thing people wanted or not.

You woke up with a loud groan, almost immediately not wanting to be awake anymore. Vision still swimming, you quickly came to the conclusion that you were still a little drunk. The bed started to move and you realized that you were in fact laying fully on top of JJ.

He ran a hand through your tangled hair, careful not to tug, and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before whispering, “Morning sweetheart, how you feeling?”

“I’m definitely still drunk,” you slurred before burying your face back into his neck.

You felt his throat vibrate with his laughs as he ran a hand up and down your back soothingly. He scratched the exposed skin of the back of neck gently with his other hand and said, “Well you did black out last night. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Your brain was moving extra slow, so it took a few extra seconds to process his words, and then even longer to sort your thoughts out. After a minute or so, you finally answered, “Shots with John B.”

JJ laughed loudly and you winced, clutching your tender head. He quieted quickly, “Sorry, love, it’s just, you drank so much more after that.”

“Fuck, was I embarrassing?”

“Depends on if you count ranting drunkenly on the floor about the flaws in the current education system embarrassing.”

Clearing your throat as a blush rose to your face, you asked, “Was I at least making good points?”

“I thought you fucking killed it. Your next argument was a little more incoherent and flawed.”

“Oh god,” you groaned, almost not wanting to ask.

JJ brushed his thumb across your cheekbone until you met his gaze. He chuckled when he caught your eye, “That one was about how Klay Thompson is the best shooter in NBA history.”

“I see no flaws in that,” you countered, putting on hand on his chest to push yourself into a more upright position.

“Of course you don’t,” he said placatingly, not wanting to start a fight.

Before you could reopen that argument, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and the fight quickly drained out of your brain. You pushed further into his embrace and mumbled, “Will you take me to Waffle House?”

He nodded and you smiled, pushing yourself up fully and climbed out of bed. Almost sending you immediately to the floor. JJ jumped up to catch you as you stumbled, “Woah there, drunky. You’re not recovered yet.”

“Tequila can choke,” you muttered, feet finally back under you.

With a laugh, JJ helped you to the bathroom and sat you on the toilet seat. You pouted up at him as he fixed your toothbrush and handed it to you to brush your teeth. When you just stared at him, he pushed it toward your mouth, “Come on, babe, you gotta get ready.”

Glaring at him the entire time, you lazily brushed your teeth. He finished before you and pulled your hair back to start helping you get the rest of the makeup around your eyes with a makeup wipe. You stopped moving, toothbrush hanging out the side of your mouth, and relaxed under his gentle touch, almost falling back asleep.

JJ nudged you awake and guided you to the sink to spit and to rinse your face. You motioned toward the hairbrush and he rolled his eyes, smile playing on his lips, as he undid your hair and brushed it out as softly as he could manage.

“Sweatshirt?” he asked you when the two of you were finished in the bathroom and you nodded. JJ tossed you one of his and you pulled it over your head. It got stuck and you made a helpless noise, body going limp instead of trying to fight it. He straightened it out and pulled it the rest of the way on for you, ruffling your hair affectionately when you got your head through.

“Waffle House now?” you asked, one track mind in full force.

He grabbed his keys from the bedside table and a pair of slides for you from the closet. You followed him, hand clasped in his, out the door and to his truck, where he helped you in and buckled you. The alcohol was finally wearing off, and you could feel a headache starting up. It was bound to be hell in less than 30 minutes.

But of course, JJ being the best boyfriend that he was, pulled into a gas station and hopped out, “Be right back, okay?”

You nodded and sure enough he was gone three minutes tops. He came back with a bottle of blue Powerade in his hand and a small bottle of Tylenol. You untwisted the cap and knocked back two pills before telling him earnestly, “Powerade is better than Gatorade.”

JJ laughed and pulled out of the parking lot, “I know, love. Let’s go get some food.”

The nearest Waffle House was just down the street from the gas station, so the two of you were there in no time. It was always pretty popular on Sunday mornings with the hungover college crowd, and you had to wait a few minutes before a table opened up.

JJ slid in across from you and ordered for the two of you immediately, already knowing your go-to hangover brunch. By the time the food came out, your stomach was growling and you tucked into the hash browns immediately.

He watched, amused, as you devoured the hash browns and waffle in front of you while he slowly ate his eggs. You were sure it was an amusing sight, but you didn’t care. Wordlessly, he slid two of his four bacon strips across the table to you and you devoured those too.

There was a line out the door, so you didn’t linger at the table. Both of you slid out the booth and you stepped close, grabbing his hand and hanging onto his arm as he led you to the register to pay. You weren’t drunk anymore, but you could tell it was going to be a goofy hangover day where your brain wasn’t functioning up to its full speed.

The rest of your Powerade was still in the car and you chugged the rest as soon as you buckled up. JJ laughed, watching you out of the corner of his eye as he pulled into the Dunkin drive-thru line. As if he could sense you about to lean forward and unbuckle, he put one of his hands on your thigh, “Relax, I know your order.”

Leaning back with a pout, you pinched the skin on the back of his hand and he pinched your thigh back in retaliation. He nailed your order, and soon the two of you were back on the road, you happily sipping an iced coffee with almond milk and two shots of French vanilla.

When he parked in front of the house, you grabbed his hand before he could get out, “Thanks, J.”

He smiled at you, “Anytime. I mean it’s the least I can do when you put up with my shit all the time. Plus, I love you too much not to.”

And you couldn’t not kiss him. He kept it short, pulling away pretty quickly before pressing gentle kisses along your cheekbone and forehead.

“I love you too,” you told him, earnestly.

[olivarryprompts]

Fanfic Friday #7

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/32577124

{the anatomy of caring}

Ships: minor stevetony, focused on Tony & Peter

Warnings: none, it’s just fluff :)

Wc: 2355

It was obvious to anyone who knew the two well. It was Steve and Tony, Iron Man and the Captain. It simply made sense. If the logic wasn’t enough, the two looked at home with one and another. They slipped together like puzzle pieces. Tony always helped Steve through the confusion of a new world, and Steve always knew just how to help Tony deal with the anxiety of their reality. They were the perfect couple, and they both knew that.

Then, the spiderling came along. Tony saw a mirror image of himself in Spiderman. A young, ambitious boy who had the curse and gift of superhuman powers. He defied death each day he swung between buildings, and Tony couldn’t help but be enthralled. He couldn’t help but figure out who the kid was (It was pretty easy to figure out it was a kid, considering he only showed up outside of school hours). Steve, knowing his lover so well, knew instantly how protective Tony felt over the kid he’d merely stalked on the internet.

So when Tony explained the plan to show up at Peter’s with the “Stark Internship” it was no surprise to the captain. To the rest of the team, who’d all moved into the tower, it was a complete shock. The fact that Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, wanted to help this kid hone his powers and skills.

“You,” Bruce said, “Want to help this kid..what? Be a superhero?” “Well, someone’s gotta,” Tony explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Someone has to?” Nat questioned. “He can’t go around swinging off rooftops and beating up bad guys without any training. Or backup.” “Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t your idiot ass do that?” Sam questioned. “I was not a kid. And I had money, friends, people,” Tony wildly gesticulated. “I am beyond confused,” Nat laughed. “Same train as Romanoff,” Clint agreed. “Guys, this is not that hard. Come on. Let’s take this scenario. He ends up meeting some guys, and, instead of, say, winning, he loses. And either he dies, or gets badly injured. Who does he have? No one? He bleeds out. He’s a kid for fuck sake.” “Cap’s been awfully quiet,” Clint pointed out. “What? I knew this was coming days ago,” Steve explained with a smile, “I know my man. He wasn't just gonna let this kid get himself into trouble if he could do anything about it. Plus, Tony doesn’t keep tabs, he violently invades lives.” Tony shot him a look. “With love, invades with lots and lots of love,” he quickly fixes, flashing his million dollar smile at his boy. Tony just rolled his eyes and focused on addressing the group, “Look, I know it’s a lot, but I think it’s just what I have to do. And I own the tower, so, my choice,” he said with a hint of banter in his voice. Tony headed towards the elevator. “Where the hell are you going?” Sam asked. “The spiderling’s.”

Tony left before he could hear any of the exasperated responses. It was a fair drive down to Queen’s where the boy lived. He parked outside the small building, and he then climbed the seven flights of stairs to the apartment. He knocked on the door and greeted, “Hello, I’m Tony, Tony Stark.” He smiled his media smile, extending a hand towards May. “I-I know. Mr. Stark, hello, w-what are you doing here?” “Well, your nephew Peter applied for the Steptember Grant, and well, he got it,” Tony said, thrusting all the enthusiasm he could muster. He maintained his fabricated nonchalant, disregarding manner in most places. “Wow this is, this is incredible! Peter will be home any minute now. Come in, come in. Can I get you a drink?”

He was back at the tower, recapping his meeting with Peter to Cap. “-can you believe no one knows? Well, now it's knew. No one knew this kid was swinging around. And he got these powers with no one to help him through it, and god, it must have been awful. But, he’s good, Cap, he’s so good. He feels the need to help people, beyond just guilt. He’s, he’s-” “Tones,” Steve said, kissing his cheek, “Take a deep breath.” To be fair to the man, he hadn’t slept for at least 36 hours. With all that coffee in his system he had the right to be a bit uncomposed. The two were sitting at the breakfast bar, well Tony was sitting and Steve was behind it, cooking some eggs for the younger man. “I’m just glad I found him before he killed himself trying to save the world.” “Me too. How long has it been since you’ve slept?” “J?” “Sir, it has been 36 hours.“ “Tonyyyy,” Steve said, clearly disappointed. “Steveeee.” “I’m forcing you to bed.” “I have work to do. Plus it’s only eight o’clock.” “Eat then sleep, honey,” Steve said in that voice that you just didn’t ignore.

C2

At first the “Stark Internship” started as Tony upgrading Peter’s suit, monitoring his patrols, and teaching how to fight. Well, Natasha taught him how to fight. After she offered, Tony was in no place to deny. It was overwhelming to Peter. He was being taught about tech with Tony Stark and being taught how to fight from the black widow.

For the first couple weeks, he was a nervous wreck in the tower. He’d hardly speak to anyone and only do and touch what he was told to. He’d change, head straight to the gym, and then Natasha would train him. At first, the training was silent, other than Nat’s coaching. Then, slowly, the two began talking. It started with Nat asking how he first got his power, then it moved to her first missions, and then suddenly Nat knew a lot about Peter. And Peter was one of the few people in the world who knew a lot about Natasha. “-so what, you fought alien robots sent by Thor’s brother?” “Yeah, that's about right. I had to get up to one of the buildings, so, with Cap’s shield as my trampoline, I launched myself onto one of their flying machines. Pretty fun time up there.” “Holy shit, that’s incredible. How’d you stop them?” Peter knew how the battle had gone down, afterall he’d been in New York during the attack, but it was something else hearing it from an actual Avenger. “Well, it was quite complicated. The scientist-” Nat reminded him to keep his wrist straight. He made the fix, and went back to punching the bag. She launched back into the tale,”The scientist, remember him, who Loki’d controlled woke up mid battle. He’d installed a death switch for the portal, but to access it we needed the scepter. But, the thing is, the government basically sent a nuke toward New York in an effort to contain the aliens, so Tony grabbed the nuke and aimed from inside of the portal and threw it at their main spacecraft. This turned off all of the alien tech. He was a he-” “Hey Kid, Nat. Please don’t tell me you're telling the New York story,” Tony said from the entrance. “Hi Mr. Stark.” Nat rolled her eyes, “I am telling the New York story. You were a he-” “Don’t say it. You almost done?” “I’ll call it. Good job today kid.” “Thanks.”

Similar to the gym, he’d become far more comfortable around Tony and in his lab. At first he’d sit silently, doing his work. Then he got used to Tony’s eccentric tendencies, he memorized the layout and where everything was, and he’d also been unofficially given a workspace. It became easier and easier to feel comfortable. The late night coffee and deep chats were simply a bonus. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it felt like he had a father figure. It was nice.

One day, Tony was vibin’ to ACDC and chatting with Steve whilst working on Mock 50 of his new suit design when Peter showed up. Steve being in the lab was something Peter had also become accustomed to. “Jarvis, please get some good music on in here. Queen perhaps?” Peter requested. He did it to annoy Mr. Stark, and it did just that. “Hey kid,” Cap said. “Don’t “hey kid” him,” Mr. Stark said, faking anger, “Did you just insult my music? How dare you? I am revoking all Jarvis privileges.” Peter laughed alongside Cap. “Sir, you can’t do that. I quite like the kid, and the innovations he is creating require my attention.” “Why did I program you to have a goddamn personality?” Tony said, focusing back to his work, “And Jarvis, put the quality music back now.” “Anway, how was school?” Steve asked. “Good, yeah. The same really. We had another one of your “fitness” videos for class today. Real good,” Peter joked. “Oh god, please don’t tell me they really use those.” “They really use those,” Peter smiled, “I’m going for a shower. See you in a flash.” “Wrong superhero, kid,” Mr. Stark called. “Idiot,” Peter heard Cap mutter into the top of Mr. Stark’s head.

Upon returning, he noticed the absence of the team leader. “Where did Cap go?” “Actual work or something stupid like that.” Peter just smiled as he settled down at his workstation. He wanted to try out some new formulas for his web fluid. He’d had an idea in spanish class, and scribbled it down in his notebook. He fished for it in his backpack.

It was so easy. Too easy. And so so comfortable.

C3

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Peter had just finished sparring with Nat, and Tony, unusually, came up to the gym to “collect” him. He hadn’t done that for months. Mainly because Peter stopped coming straight down to Tony’s lab. Instead, he went to the kitchen and, mainly because Steve forced him, ate some food. He usually ended up in a random chat with Sam or Bucky. Occasionally he would catch Banner, and he’d end up in a different laboratory. He was always happy to learn about what the incredible doctor was up to. Sometimes, he was even able to provide a suggestion or two. Bruce always looked impressed by the boy. It made Peter smile.

Then he would actually make his way down to the lab, but not before trying to find Hawkeye. He'd wanted to learn some tricks with the bow and arrow. Somehow, Clint would be dragged into teaching Peter how to fire a bow once a week. At least. Clint pretended he minded through teasing and jokes, but realistically he loved hearing about the kid’s week. He’d always been good with kids. It became a running joke that Clint would let Peter know about all the tech upgrades he wanted, and then Peter’d report them to Tony. Most of the time Tony replied with something snarky like, “Tell the idiot he shouldn’t have picked a dumbass weapon like a bow and arrow,” or “do it yourself if you care that much.”

The Avengers Tower had become home just as much as his apartment in Queens was, and it was clear that Tony knew that. Hence the, “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He took the little Avenger to the elevator, hitting floor 80. He was a little confused given that floors 75-90 were all bedroom floors for the avengers or just spare bedrooms. “Mr. Stark-” “You’ll see, kid.” In reality, Tony was nervous. He and Steve decided a while back that Peter deserved his own space in the tower, but he had been scared that Peter wouldn’t like it. That he picked the wrong colours, or mattress, or well, anything.

The doors opened and there were two doors facing one another. Tony opened one of them with a key he pulled out of his black suit. The door opened and he was met by a beautiful and modern room. It had a huge bed and tv. There was a desk equipped with the latest stark Holographic technology. In the corner was a suit, specifically a spider suit. That is when it clicked. “Mr. Stark, is, is this all mine?” “Yeah kid, sorry if you don’t like anything. Cap and I did the best we could knowing what you like. And ye-” Peter cut him off with a hug, “thank you.” “Anything for you, kid. Just say the word. Want a tour?” Peter eagerly nodded. “Alright so that’s the bed, obviously. No more sleeping in the guest rooms or that couch in the worksho-” “You sleep ther-” “Don’t say that I sleep there, I am no role model for sleep schedules.” Peter just smiled. “This is a little workshop area I mocked up. You can’t really tinker up here, but do all the designing you want,” he pulled up the most recent project Peter was working on, “Then, just through there is the bathroom, a little lounge area over there and yeah, that’s all. Oh, there’s two mini fridges by the lounge area.” Just as Tony finished his explanation, Steve showed up. “Tones, you showed it to him without me,” Cap complained. “Sorry, babes, you took too long.” he turned around and placed a little kiss on his lips. “It’s fine. How do you like it Pete?” “It’s, it’s-” Peter couldn’t think of any words to describe how incredible it was to have a room at the Avengers Tower, but more importantly how incredible it was to have so many people looking out for him. Before he had just one, Aunt May. She is amazing, but he’d always longed for just a little more. Then, with the Avengers, he’d been given a lot more. They became his family. And now his home. “Thank you,” was all Peter could muster before falling onto the floor.

The two of them, now in each other's arms, just looked down fondly at the boy. “We did good,” Cap whispered. “We did good,” Tony agreed. They did good with more than just the room.

[moldisgoodforyou]

the one where jj is drunk

warnings: cursing, excessive drinking

wordcount: 1.6k

charlie spent her thursday night holed up in her room. it was like torture - she had three assignments to finish, but it was the perfect weather for the end of april and her senior house was so close to the bars that she could hear the music drifting in through her window. jj kept texting her throughout the night, keeping her updated on every little thing that happened. when he was with her, he tended to drink less in case she needed assistance, but all restrictions flew out the window when it was just him and the boys. shotgun contests, beer bongs, shots after shots - everything was on the table.

charlie glanced over as she got her seventh voice text of the night from jj, around 11pm. she grinned and put it on speaker to listen. “baby...charlie...you’re my bestest friend,” jj slurred in the message. she could hear his brothers yelling at him in the background. “ok, walker, i gotta, i gotta go, but I’m gonna talk to you later! I promise!” the message ended and she laughed, texting him a short reply.

go have fun with your friends, I don’t need constant updates

as if on cue, he snapchatted her instantly - a close-up of him and his friend’s faces, camera angled straight up their nostrils. it was eloquently captioned “send noods.” she rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt aside, sending him a picture of just her bare shoulder with her lacy bra strap on display. he called her right away.

“charlie gertrude walker!” he scolded. she laughed. “oh no, not the middle name, am I in trouble?”

“you weren’t supposed to actually send nudes! I’m in public!” he exclaimed. she could hear the bass pounding in the background from the bar. “it’s not even - go have fun, j, quit texting me!”

“no, I want you here. it’s stupid you have to study. just ask for an extension or something, I wanna hang out with my girl.” he insisted. she rolled her eyes. “I can’t, jj. have fun with the boys, we can go out tomorrow.”

“you promise?”

“I promise. call me if you need anything.”

“love you, charlie!” he told her before hanging up.

sure enough, he called a couple hours later. his words were extra slurred. “charlie!” he yelled into the speaker. she held it away from her ear, grimacing. “hi, j. do you need a ride?” he gasped. “how did you know?” she laughed. “stay there, I’ll be there in five.”

she hung up and pulled him up on find my friends, knowing he would wander if he was alone. she shoved her feet into slippers and got in her car to drive to the bar. she was only an 8 minute walk away, but given jj’s voice, she knew he would be too clingy and too heavy for her to deal with all the way home. once she pulled over by the bar, she honked the car horn upon seeing jj. his face lit up and he stumbled to the car, five of his frat brothers in tow.

“can you take all of us? the pledges aren’t picking up. I think they’re going on strike.” one of the boys asked. charlie laughed, shaking her head. “good for them. get in, try to put on a seatbelt if you can?” they all tumbled into the car, jj in the front seat. his hand went to his usual resting spot on her thigh right away and he leaned over, placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “hi charlie!” she laughed, nudging him away. “hi hon. don’t distract me, I gotta drive you and your hooligans back to beta.” he nodded seriously but kept his hand on her thigh. “charlie, I had the best drink ever tonight. ever ever ever.”

she smiled, amused. “yeah?” one of his brothers piped up in the back. “yo, we were discussing this thing at the bar, and-” jj whipped around, shaking his head. “bro night! bro code!” his brother waved his hand around. “yeah, yeah, whatever. anyways, we think charlie’s prob’ly the hottest beta girlfriend, but jj doesn’t want her to know we talk about that shit.” 

charlie turned around to glance at the backseat at a red light, raising her eyebrows. his eyes widened. “oh, shit, I thought frazier’s girlfriend was picking us up! sup, walker!” the other boys cracked up immediately and jj groaned, putting his head in his hands. “what the fuck, elliot?” he reached back and shoved him, and they started hitting at each other with how little they could reach.

charlie grabbed jj’s hand, pulling him back to the front. “hey, hey, knock it off! you’re gonna make me wreck.” jj turned back to the backseat. “you heard her, knock it off!” she rolled her eyes and turned the radio up as she drove, then pulled up to the beta house. “alright, everyone out!” there were some mumbled thank yous as all the boys piled out of the car.

charlie stayed put and jj ducked his head back into her window. “wait, you’re not coming in?” she shrugged. “I figured you just needed a ride. I’m wearing my slippers, for gods sake.” he reached in through the window, tugging at her shirt. “come on, I wanna sleep next to you.” she sighed. “okay, let me park on the street. give me a second.” jj pumped his fists in victory. “hell yeah!”

she parked and walked back up the drive. jj wrapped her in a hug, putting almost all of his weight on her. “mmph- j, I can’t -“ she mumbled against him, pushing back. he stepped away then looped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here, charlie. you’re so pretty. I love your hair like this.”

she laughed, reaching up to touch her scrunchie. “in a bun?” jj nodded. “but I also hate it, because I can’t comb my fingers through your hair.” he stuck his fingers in her bun to make his point. she laughed, removing his hand and pulled out her scrunchie. “okay, okay, better?” he grinned, tugging the end of her hair. “much better! let’s go get snacks, I want snacks. will you make me hot pockets?” she rolled her eyes, taking his hand and dragging him inside. “you’re like a toddler.”

“charlie. char, baby, listen to me.” he tugged at her hair to get her attention. “what, j?” she asked, amused. “you have...you have the prettiest ears I have ever seen.” she laughed. “that’s a new one.”

“no, I’m serious. when you have the double earrings, it’s so hot. I like the sparkly ones.” she nodded. “thank you.” he tugged at her ear and she swatted at his hand. “I’m gonna buy you more.” he declared. “no you’re not, I have enough. and stop with your hands, you’re so touchy.” she laughed. he shook his head as they stumbled into the kitchen. “no, no, I swear. I’m gonna buy you all the things you want in the world, your ring is gonna be so fuckin’ cool.” 

charlie paused as she reached for the hot pockets in the freezer, sticking them in the microwave. “my ring?” jj nodded, distracted as he started opening the kitchen cabinets and letting them slam shut. “yeah. I know we’re s’posed to look together, but I think I know you well enough. I have it all planned out.” charlie reached up and grabbed his hands, stilling them from making more noise. “what ring are you talking about?” she asked with a smile. 

“your engagement ring, don’t be silly.” he ruffled her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead. “don’t worry, I got it figured out.” she nodded. “I trust you. but let’s talk about this in a year, maybe.” she pulled out the plate of hot pockets and swatted at jj’s hand as he reached for one. “they’re hot, maybank, let’s go upstairs and get you ready for bed.” 

he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I wanna talk about it now. you’re staying, right?” she nodded. “yeah, I got you.” she had to drag him upstairs, continually pushing him off her shoulders, but they eventually made it. she shut the door behind them and set the warm plate on his nightstand. 

“why don’t you want to get married?” jj asked, crossing his arms. charlie laughed. “jj it’s not that - you’re hammered, can we maybe not talk about this now?” he shook his head, stubborn. “we’re the perfect couple, we would be great at marriage, and you would look fucking gorgeous in one of those pretty white dresses. it’s settled.” charlie nodded, tugging up on the hem of his shirt. “solid points, j.” he lifted his arms, letting her undress him. “so you’ll do it? you’ll marry me?” 

charlie hesitated. “at some point, I’ll get married.” she tossed his shirt in the laundry and jj leaned down, kissing her firmly. “to me. right?” she grinned, shying away from his lips as she tried to tug his shorts down. “eventually. probably.” he seemed to think it over for a moment, kicking off his shoes. “you promise?” 

charlie sighed softly, trying to figure out how drunk he really was - and if he’d remember the conversation in the morning. “jj, how much did you drink?” he counted on his fingers, then held up nine. “umm...seven? six? like hardly anything at all.” she laughed and kissed his cheek. “okay then, I promise. let’s go to bed.” he swept her up, making her squeal, then dropped her unceremoniously on top of the bed. they both climbed under the covers.

“night, char. I love you.” 

“love you too, j.”