#… ok listen i spend too much time looking at and thinking about his index finger ring

[domifucker]

i think max’s cunty hat is here to stay and i for one am all for it

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

Hii can i request a Vinnie x reader where the reader live at the hype house and shes a big tiktoker too and the reader is just soft and she spend alot time at Vinnie's room bc they're secretly dating but no one knew abt it just they're family and thomas and alex and the others kinda knew abt it bc the reader and Vinnie is kinda spending time together a lot and one day Vinnie got a cold and that same day thomas is filming a video and the reader is cutting apples(or any fruit ) for Vinnie and thomas started filming her and ask her if thats for vinnie the fruits that the reader are cutting bc they knew vinnie is sick and the reader said "no, its for me" why a little laugh at the end and she didn't know that thomas is filming her going to vinnie's room and suddenly thoms burst in to Vinnie's room and filming them and see the reader is taking care of Vinnie...you can do whatever you want at the endd just vinnie soft and cuddly thank youuu! <333

Taking care of our boy? - Vinnie Hacker

Hey love 😘 Thank you so much for your request, I hope my story did it justice … I made a few changes, but the idea is still there 🙄 I feel like Vinnie would be such a baby when he’s sick 😆 Enjoy

Warning : None

Word Count : 1.2

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Vinnie hated being sick. He had been feeling off the past couple of days and when he woke up congested, his throat burning, he groaned, rolling onto his side seeing you laying peacefully next to him. You had fallen asleep the night before, after going to Vinnie’s room to watch anime with him. You, being a newly big TikToker, had moved into the Hype House a few months ago, hitting it off quickly with him. You always got teased for it, often getting shipped online with the fact that you guys seemed to be close to each other. People weren’t totally wrong since you and Vinnie had decided to start dating a few weeks ago, hiding it to the public due to the fact that it was still new and scared of the hate you would get if his fans found out.

Not a lot of people knew about your relationship, just your closest friends and of course the other members of the Hype House. Living with them, didn’t make it easy to keep you both a secret, but they respected your decision. You had thought about coming out since people kind of assumed you were together after seeing how close you both were in Thomas and Alex’s vlogs. The responses to their videos were mostly sweet and encouraging, so you often thought about it. You had both posted a few TikToks with each other over the past couple of months and you were seen leaving places together lately, hinting to the public that something was happening between you and Vinnie

He tried getting back to sleep, closing his eyes, coughing a few times before feeling you move beside him. You got closer to him wrapping one of your arms around his torso, opening your eyes as you felt the temperature of his body.

“Baby, you’re boiling hot” you gasped, lifting your upper body to look at him, putting your hand on his forehead. He groaned again before coughing making you sight

“I’ll run you a bath so you can relax, and I’ll go to the store to buy some medicine, okay baby?” you said getting up grabbing a hoodie out of Vinnie’s closet

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fin-“ he got interrupted by a fit of coughs

“Sure” you chuckled lightly “Wait here, the bath should be done in a few minutes” you said, disappearing into the bathroom connected to his room, turning on the faucet for the water to start running. You took a towel putting it near the bathtub, calling him in when it got filled up

“Ok, so I’ll run to the store really quick, I’ll be back in a few, try to relax” You said leaving a kiss on his temple, before leaving his room, going downstairs towards your car.

You got back home about 30 minutes later with a bag filled with medicine for Vinnie when you phone dinged indicating a new notification. You opened your phone, seeing that Vinnie had just posted a new Tiktok. You shook your head, laughing slightly, even when sick, he always found a way to make something for his fans. The video consisted of him getting his head out of the water, his hair now being wet. Vinnie being Vinnie, didn’t write much for the caption

Sick 🤧

The comments were already flooded with a bunch of messages from girls saying how much they would kill to come take care of him and how good looking he was. You put your phone in your back pocket as you entered the house, making your way to the kitchen seeing the others sitting at the counter, sipping on their coffee, laughing at something Michael had said.

“Look who decided to join us earlier than usual” Alex said pointing his camera towards you, as showed him your middle finger, sticking out your tongue

“Ouhhh grumpy, she probably didn’t have her coffee yet guys, excuse her” he said laughing, turning the camera back towards Calvin, who was trying to do god knows what. You went to the fridge, taking out some fruits to cut while you put the teakettle on the stove, waiting for the water to boil. You prepared everything while listening to their stories and laughing at them. You took out a tray, placing a plate of freshly cut berries with two mugs and some pills on the side to bring up to Vinnie.

“Two mugs? Perhaps the tea is for Vinnie? Taking care of our boy while he’s sick, I see” Alex stated, grinning softly as he turned the camera back towards you

“Vinnie’s sick? I didn’t know�� you said shrugging your shoulders “I’m just really thirsty, that’s all” you continued as you picked up the tray, the others humming, knowing well enough you were lying.

“Anyways, see you later, I have some things to take care of” you said already halfway out of the kitchen making your way up the stairs

“I bet you guys a hundred bucks that the things she needs to take care of is Vinnie” Michael said, laughing as he shook his head.

Arriving to Vinnie’s bedroom you knock on the door hearing a faint “come in” before opening the door, seeing your boyfriend lying in bed, watching anime.

“Hey baby, I brought you berries and tea” you said walking up to him while he moved to sat down “Here take these” you handed him the medicine and his cup of tea while you move to sit beside him with the plate and your own cup of coffee.

“Thank you” he sipped on his tea, the hot liquid soothing the tickled in the back of his throat. You had both finished eating and drinking, putting the plates and mugs away on the nightstand when Vinnie started coughing again

“Poor baby” you said stroking his warm cheeks “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” you asked him, worried

“Can we just stay here and cuddle?” he said looking into your eyes, pouting as you smiled at him

“Of course, Vin” you answered as he laid his head on your chest, your hands massaging his scalp slowing, making him let out a small groan of appreciation, enjoying the comfort. A few moments later, the sound of light snoring made you smile softly, indicating Vinnie had fallen back asleep. You knew he didn’t sleep much the night before, so you were happy that he could relax for a bit. You could hear some shuffling in the hallway and soon enough the door opened, Alex and Michael entering the room, fake gasping at the sight before their eyes.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” Alex said, capturing every moment on his camera

“Shhh! Can’t you see he’s sleeping” you whispered-yelled trying to shush them up, wavering your hands for them to go away

“I guess I was right hun?” Michael said to the camera, a wide grin on his face.

“Mhhhhh” Vinnie groaned, squeezing your body tighter “Baby, tell them to go away” he mumbled groggily, still sleepy.

“AH I TOLD YOU SO! You guys owe me 100 bucks” Michael shouted as he pointed the lenses with his index finger, before Vinnie threw a pillow at him, exhausted

“I swear if you guys don’t get out –“ he got interrupted by the two guys laughing and exiting the room, closing the door behind him. You laughed lightly as he laid back down on your chest

“They are so annoying” he sighed “Thanks for taking care of me baby”

“Anytime Vin” you responded, smiling, leaving a kiss on his forehead.

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Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

[labomi]

a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for. 

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy. 

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up. 

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness. 

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp. 

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch. 

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body. 

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

“Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.” 

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release. 

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again. 

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness. 

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

[plush-rabbit]

Straightforward Confessions

Request: Oh ok then maybe when you have time can you do dabi, Bakugo, Tomura and Toga himiko with female s/o who's very straightforward about liking them? Recently I saw a similar request somewhere but unfortunately it looks like it was deleted :( I hope this isn’t too much for you.

A/N: I did this as more of a confession type rather than an established relationship because i feel like they would know if you like them if youre in a relationship with them, so yeah. Sorry if its not what you wanted:P (also i dont know enough about canon bakugo so yeah?)

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Bakugo Katsuki:

Katsuki is a bit rough around the edges but he’s growing. He’s maturing and trying to be more of a team player rather than facing everything by himself and trying to prove himself to others. He doesn’t have a secret soft side, but he is kind in his own way. He looks out for his allies and includes them in his plan. He’s admirable, having such a strong goal in mind. But, he’s still one who has focused his entire goal towards becoming a hero, not having time for any romantic relationships.

Telling him your feelings isn’t exactly the best idea. You can never be sure where you stand with him- he isn’t some flirt or tries to attract his classmates in any way so you aren’t even sure if he will return your feelings. The only thing that you can actually rely on is that he won’t spread around the fact that you like him and that he’ll be in his room before the clock even strikes ten. You knock on his door and just like every day and night before, his room is empty, and he’s already dressed in his pajamas.

Your words blurt out before you can even subtly make the conversation about feelings. It’s silent for a minute, his expression is neutral and somehow that makes it harder for you to read, unable to know what he feels- even if it were to be something negative, you just wish you could gauge his reaction. He clears his throat, telling you to leave his room. He’s anything but sweet in your moment of confession and somehow that makes you feel relieved- knowing that what you said doesn’t change anything out of the ordinary, at least that you hope.

He isn’t entirely sure about how to feel towards you or his reaction. He has a restless night, tossing and turning and when he wakes up, he still feels exhausted.The next day, he’s unable to go on about his day like he usually does- he stutters in his insults, his attention drifting back towards you and he’s less than pleased with it all. He’s never used to actually developing feelings for someone and when you came to confess to him, it caught him off guard. He’s unable to tell whether he actually has romantic feelings for you or not.

The next few days consist of Katsuki in his own mind, trying to figure out the feelings that he does have for you. He would rather not leave you in the dark especially when you had the courage to actually confess to him. He walks up to you, calling for your attention and when you meet his eyes, he tells you that he’ll take you out on a date- something simple- enough for him to gauge his feelings for you.

Dabi:

Dabi is a hard individual to read and interact with. He puts on a stoic demeanor, trying to act as if he’s unbothered by the people around him, but he isn’t. He’s crude with his words, not bothering to mince them, self-assured despite how his quirk hurts him, passive-aggressive, making snide comments and grinning widely at the misfortune of others. He’s a being who tries so hard to appear to not care, but the truth is, he cares deeply about those around him, but his views and passions are brighter than his emotions.

Confessing to the cremation villain is easy. He likes being alone for most of the time, retreating to his room and if you were to follow him and request entry, he’d more than likely allow you. When you do so, he only shouts back with an “it’s open” and the door squeaks as you push it open. He raises his hand in a greeting and returns his attention to a magine, the thin pages pressed between his fingertips. When you call his name, he gives you his full attention, arms spread and legs extended, the magazine closed without a bookmark to return him.

It’s surprisingly easy to confess when there are no distractions around. He takes your confession with consideration. His eyes wide and head tilting, only for his features to morph into a wicked grin. He’ll humor you, tell you okay and when you can huff with a disappointed look, he waves his hand away. Once you’re gone, his smile quickly falls, his hand dragging down his face and his head knocking against the wall behind him.

You like him- that’s certainly something new. He isn’t entirely sure of the feelings he has towards you. He rubs his thumb and index finger together, trying to figure out what he does feel about you. He doesn’t want to string you along and give you any false sense of hope. Yet, he’s hardly aware of his own feelings towards you. While he prefers to be alone, he does enjoy spending his time with you and has the habit of trying to impress you when you two are out on mission together. Perhaps it is something akin to a crush or an emotion that mimics yours.

Time passes for him to actually gather his thoughts and feelings into something cohesive. However, during that, he has to avoid you and while that is less than pleasant, he needs to sort out his own feelings first. You were straightforward with him, it’s only right that Dabi confesses to you as you confessed the way to him. He goes to your room, sits beside you and tells you that he also has feelings for you.His eyes are on yours, his hand on his knee with his ring and pinky finger outstretched as if trying to grab your hand.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Tomura isn’t able to gauge feelings well considering he hasn’t had interaction with people other than what All For One allowed near him. He’s a born leader, focused and planning ahead, desperate to be on top. He has a strong will that he set out for himself that makes you believe that he actually has a chance at winning despite the odds. His personality is something painted in gold and you can’t help but want to admire him and want to be with him.

You speak to him in private, hoping that no one else will hear your confession to him. The only thing you can hope for in case of rejection is that he’ll treat you the same. You manage to get him when he’s alone, the door to his closed behind you and you sit beside him, asking him to just listen to what you have to say without interruptions. You tell him that you like him, plain and simple, that you have romantic feelings for him and while he doesn't have to return them, you also wanted to tell him. You don’t mention how you can’t seem to control your beating heart when around him.

New to these types of feelings- especially those that involve something more than friendship or hatred- he’s unsure of how to respond. The silence is enough for you to recognize that he needs to be alone with his thoughts. You pat his knee, telling him that he doesn’t have to respond, but you just wanted to tell him. You give his knee a squeeze and give him a soft smile, standing up and exiting his room, closing the door behind you, leaving a villain alone to fester with their thoughts.

The following days are odd. He’s in a mix between wanting to talk to you and be around you, desperate to figure out what should happen next, but he also wants to avoid you. You left him to fester with his thoughts and he has. It’s a mess of emotions that go on inside of him. He doesn’t know how he feels about you. This group is as close as he’s ever got to friendship and freedom, romance was something completely off the table, discarded and told it was worthless. He’s unsure how to feel about you.

He knows that he likes you, but he isn’t sure if he likes you simply because you’re one of the few who treated him as a person rather than a villain first or if he actually likes you in a romantic sense. Tomura figures he must like you back- he thinks about you constantly, but confessing to you is difficult. But, he doesn’t want you to think of him anything less for being inexperienced with relationships. He comes up to you, his gaze on you, trying not to look away while doing so. He clears his throat, his hand against his neck as he tells you that he does have some sort of feelings for you but that he’s new to anything romantic.

Toga Himiko:

Himiko is an energetic one. She wears her heart on her sleeve, falling for those who have strong hearts and love struck once she does. There’s a lot to like about her- her energy, her excitement, her personality and how she laughs and seems to constantly move when just standing. You were drawn to her, your heart pounding in your chest, and you could only take so much of it before you confessed to her.

Once you confess to her, she is a bit dumbfounded at first. She’ll stare blankly at you for a minute, her head tilted and hands are relaxed as she processes your words. After a moment of silence, she's smiling wide and wrapping her arms around you, her face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. She pulls away, her hands never leaving your body as she comments how happy she is to hear that, and that she returns your feelings. Her lips peck at the corner of your lips, a pink tint dusting across her face as she confirms that you do have feelings for her. She accepts your feelings for her with an open heart, holding your hand tightly and wanting to show off that you two are something more than friends.

After the initial day of feelings being confessed, she’ll avoid you the next day. The night before, she was fine, chatting with you the night before, holding your hand and painting your nails to match hers. The next day, she avoids you. You don't see her in the morning, and nor does anyone else- or at least they merely shrug and mention that she was feeling sick and locked herself in her room.

As a villain, her options for romance are limited and having you confess to her is almost too good to be true. She’s unsure of what to say, of how to even act other than the girl who’s in love. She’ll call for you, shoot you a quick message for you to meet her in her room where she confesses her fears. For once, you see a more serious side of her, her eyes downcast and grin gone, replaced with only a slight frown.

It’s obvious that she likes you as well, returning your feelings, but she’s just so nervous about the relationship- the woulds and the ifs. She wants to be close to you but she also fears that she’ll be too much during it. A reassurance about the relationship moving at a pace comfortable for her calms her worries, her smile gentle and her cheeks tinting with a pink hue. She hugs you tight, her perfume light and sweet like candy as she nuzzles her face into your neck.

[dabiboy]

Ok, so I tried to keep this one as canon as possible, so I hope it turned out good and you guys like it!

Tiny Thing [Dad!Dabi]

Your relationship was not even a relationship. The two of you were together, yet there were days in which Dabi went missing for weeks, and you had no idea if he was coming back alive. And didn't change when the happy not so happy little accident happened. He let you make the choice, keep it or... Just finish with all of it. After days and days of thinking, you have decided that you were going to keep the baby, and of course, you gave him the liberties, either if he wanted to stay or just go away, at the end of the day a kid was not a game, neither something simple or temporary. It was a surprise when he said that he was going to be there, not all the time, but he was going to try. It was not only his past that haunted him, but also the fact that he was a villain. How were you going to explain your hero friends? family? How could he tell the LoV that now he had a kid? The two of you just couldn't, and that creature was your best secret.

Everything was set for that Friday morning, your best friend was going to babysit Kaji as you were out for half of the day, but things are not always how you expect them to be.

''I'm coming!'' You said, letting the ten-month-old infant on his crib as you went to open the door. 

''Hey there'' Your jaw dropped when you saw the black-haired man standing in front of you.

''Dabi? What are you doing here'' Your voice was full of surprises, but you quickly pulled him in so no one could see him. 

''Told Chapstick he could fuck off today'' He smirked, sliding his hands on each side of your hips as he kissed your jaw.

''As much as I would like to do this, and ask you where have you been, I can't. I'm already late and-'' He interrupted you when it hit him.

''The thing. How is it?'' Dabi asked, moving away from you so he could see you.

''The thing has a name, Kaji. And it is your kid'' You raised an eyebrow.

''My thing'' He replied back, making you roll your eyes. 

''He's fine'' you punched his chest softly ''Ema is coming today to take care of him.''

''Who the fuck is Ema'' he asked furrowing his eyebrows ''Where are you going?'' Dabi asked again. 

''My best friend, and I got a call from the job. They need me there until two pm, so she will be here in a few minutes.''

''I can take care of him'' He stated simply raising his shoulders, and you opened your eyes in surprise. 

''You what'' 

''I can take care of him today, is my son after all.'' he said again ''I'm not gonna burn him alive as my father did with me, so don't worry princess''

You hit him on his shoulder again, making him laugh at his dark joke. And you thought for a second, was it a good idea? You trusted him, but not the people that were after him. What if the League finds out? What if some hero arrived at your door and saw him with a kid, without knowing he was indeed his father? Those questions were screaming inside your head, but you decided to give it a try. It was the first time in three months he was back, and... You wanted Kaji to spend time with him.

''Ok, fine. But call me if you notice things start getting messy, or if you suspect something, got it?'' You said with concern, the baby boy was your life. And certainly, your love for Dabi remained the same even though things were informal between the two of you.

''Messy as in he threw up on me, or messy as in there's a bunch of villains coming over?'' 

''You know which one'' you said and started moving quickly, grabbing your bag. ''Listen, gotta go now or else I'll lose my job. He's sleeping in his crib, the toys are all over the place, if he doesn't stop crying you'll have to pick him up, his favorite toy is the one that looks like you, he has to eat at one pm, then take a nap. But I should be back soon, I'll call you''

For more than you wanted to stay more time with the two of them, you couldn't. Your incomes were the only thing that allowed you to live in the apartment, and of course to give Kaji what he needed. You left a soft kiss on Dabi's lips before going back to the baby's room and press a kiss on his forehead. You were going to call Ema on your way to the job to tell her there was someone else taking care of the baby. 

Dabi just stood there, and look at the number of colorful toys scattered on the floor, why had he said that he was going to take care of the baby? He had no idea what to do, but a part of him wanted to spend time with Kaji, his son.

He walked slowly towards his bedroom, and saw at the crib with some kind of panic, confusion, and maybe a little sadness because he had lost enough of his life already. The boy sleeping in the crib was just like him, the same facial features, and he was thankful he had your hair color and not his, not another reminder of his past. It was still hard to believe that he had a son, that tiny innocent creature had no idea of the father he had, but he was trying, trying hard not to be so shitty. Dabi rested his forearms on the cribs, looking at him.

''Fuck you're cute, you little accident'' He said to himself, trying not to wake him up. ''So you're just gonna sleep there until you find something better to do, huh? Fine then''

Dabi started walking around the room, looking at the plushies, interactive toys, everything. Was his childhood like that? He had some good memories, but the bad ones were more. And looking at the little thing sleeping on the crib, he couldn't even imagine putting him through the same hell he went. He was a bastard, but not a psycho. Nor a selfish hero.

He had no idea how many minutes he spent looking at the toys in the room, until he heard a babbling. Dabi turned around, and there he was. Awake, showing off his turquoise eyes. The same eyes he had. There was no doubt he was his son. Once more his forearms were on the edge of the crib.

''Hope you remember me, you came out of my pants anyway'' He raised an eyebrow. The infant moved his tiny hands, and also his legs. But right after a few seconds, he pouted his lips and started crying as if there were no tomorrow ''Shit, don't cry. C'mon you thing'' Dabi almost pleaded, and he grabbed the first toy he saw, moving it in front of him ''Look at the toy, c'mon''

But the cries didn't stop, on the contrary, they just kept increasing. Was he hungry? did he miss you? maybe he wanted to go back to sleep, and Dabi had no idea what the hell to do until your voice echoed in his head ''Pick him up'' and then he cursed to himself. He was smart, so it didn't take him too much time to know how to lift him, however, he was scared he might hurt him.

''Is this what you wanted?'' He asked when the baby's cry was slowly fading. Kaji looked at Dabi, right in his eyes and it felt like looking at a mirror. He was thinking about everything he has done, all the crimes he had committed until now, how could he be holding a bundle of innocense in his arms? It was as if Kaji heard his thoughts, because he started crying again, louder than before. Dabi hissed and started walking around the apartment, trying to calm him down. ''I know I have an ugly ass face, but you'll get used to it, your mom did so you can too''

Dabi looked around the toys in the living room, looking for the one you said looked like him. Was it a blue one? Or maybe one that was ripped or something. But right in the corner was a pirate teddy bear, his ears and nose full of rings, more like piercings. He scoffed and picked it up, it doesn't look like me, he thought. He moved the plushie, trying to call Kaji's attention with it.

He sat on the floor, letting the kid there too, trying to ease his crying while moving his favorite toy in front of him. But it wasn't working either. And Dabi was frustrated.

''For fuck sake.'' He cursed, using his hand to cover his face, a few gleams of tiny blue flames leaving his hand. And the crying stopped. ''Did you like that?'' Dabi asked, moving a little bit away from him so he could do it again, and when he did, Kanji laughed with puffy eyes. ''You little bastard'' Dabi smirked, repeating his actions and the boy clapped in happiness.

It looked as if the blue fire caught his attention, since it was the only thing Kaji was looking at, not even his toys. Dabi kept using his fingers to light up little but multiple blue sparkles. ''Ok, I need to stop this or else I'll burn the entire apartment down, and we don't want that, do we?'' In a gesture that surprised himself, Dabi left a soft pat on Kaji's head.

The two blue-eyed boys stood there, sitting on the floor. Dabi didn't even notice his own expression, a tiny smile on his face as he saw every little action the kid did, how he crawled around the living room, or how he chewed some toys. But at some points, the toys were boring again, because he started to climbs Dabi's thigh, a way of asking for his attention. Dabi picked him up again, holding him right in front of his face.

''What is it no-'' Dabi hissed. And he hissed in pain because the baby grabbed his chin, pulling at the skin, and by doing so also the staples ''You little fucke-'' He interrupted himself again, as he tried to pull his hand away, and when he did the kid giggled ''There are better things than my dirty staples'' He lifted him on the air, making Kaji laugh again. ''Yeah, you're cute''

Dabi was smiling again, repeating the action of lifting his arms with Kaji on his hands. It was a weird feeling, was it unfair? The baby had no idea what his father did, the things he had done. His smile was slowly fading, the little boy's eyes were pure, shiny and innocent, how could he clap at that man's face? Dabi was feeling guilty, he wasn't worthy of that cute little thing.

''Listen,'' He sat him on his lap, flexing his knees so Kaji could lay his back there. ''I'm a shitty father, but... Damn, I am a shitty father,'' He scoffed at the affirmation ''I'm trying, okay? I know I'm fucked up but I'll try not to be shit with you'' He pocked at his chubby cheek with his index finger.

Hours went by, playing and talking at him as if Kaji could understand every word, even the bad ones. The clock on the wall stroke 1pm, and being functional he stood up holding the boy in his arms, walking to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he found a tiny dinosaur bowl, the content? A disgusting green color, probably many vegetables crushed in order to make that kind of... Soup. Dabi looked at it with a disgusted expression, but he had no idea how to cook for a kid so Kaji would have to it anyway.

The black-haired man took the bowl and the kid back to the living room, sitting him on his tiny chair. He heated the food with his hand, and took the spoon to try to make him eat. Kaji seemed to enjoy it, until he slapped a full spoon against him, staining Dabi's cheek. He cursed and his face had a deadpan expression As if my face wasn't fucked up enough already he cursed under his breath and took a napkin so he could clean up himself. The rest of the lunch went smooth, and once the bowl was empty he left in on the table.

Dabi remembered your words, Kaji had to take a nap after his lunch. Big failure. Twenty minutes, thirty five, an hour, and the baby was still awake. To his eyes, his father was funnier than a nap. But then he thought you should have been home by now, but that changed when you called him. A trip to another city, you said. And a part of him was happy, and the other was worried. Was he going to be able to take care of him the rest of the day? Maybe. He took a deep breath and kept with his task for the day.

They went back to the floor, the kid sitting between his legs as he kept playing distractedly with his toys. There were moments when Dabi lift him up, and made him set his little feet over his, and trying to make him walk, but Kaji was having the time of his life rather than learning how to walk. Dabi took some pictures of him, even he got a selfie. And there was no way he was going to let Toga near his phone again, they couldn't found out about Kaji. No way.

When night arrived and after his dinner, Dabi tried to make him sleep on his crib, but then a thought haunted him. What if something happened? What if someone entered through the window and take Kaji away while he was sleeping? He couldn't do that. So he picked him up again and went back to your room. Dabi opened the bed and set the kid in the middle of it. He got rid of his boots so he could lay by his side, and resting his weight on the side of his body he laid a hand on Kaji's tiny belly, preventing him from falling.

''I meant what I said earlier, tiny thing'' He whispered ''I'll try not to be a shitty dad. Just give me some time and I’ll figure this shit out’’ '' He closed his eyes.

Taking care of a baby was tiering, and eventually, Dabi could feel his eyelids heavier and heavier. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep next to him, not moving an inch away from Kaji. He didn't want that.

You arrived home at two am, and you were quite scared because Dabi was not answering your calls, and when you got home all the lights were off. The door of your room was open, and you slowly walked in. And the sight made your heart clench. Dabi was asleep, and Kaji was peacefully sleeping by his side, his tiny hands over Dabi's hand, somehow holding his fingers. When you took a step in, Dabi woke up and move away from Kaji a bit.

''I was... I was making sure this thing was breathing'' He said, raspy voice and tired eyes. You laughed softly at his embarrassment  ''How was the trip?'' he asked in a whisper. 

''It was fine, longer than I expected tho'' You laid on the other side of the bed, kissing Kaji's forehead and caressing his head. ''Was it hard?'' You asked him.

''I think this creature loves me more than you do'' Dabi teased and tried to sit on the bed, but the baby whined a bit. 

''I think you're right. He doesn't want you to leave'' You looked at him ''And honestly, I don't want you to leave either, Dabi'' He scoffed.

''I guess I can make an exception for the two of you today'' He laid on his side again, and Kaji curled up next to his side. ''And you owe me my payment, dollface'' Dabi said, laying a hand on Kaji's back. Your heart melted again.

''And what is it?'' You asked in amusement.

''Your shitty kisses, because I haven't got one since I fucking got here'' He smirked, closing his eyes one more time.

You didn't know in what stage your relationship was but at that moment? It didn't care. You were there, with the two men you loved the most by your side, and even if it was one night in a hundred, it was a night you were going to keep in your heart and soul forever.

............................................

Tag list [open]: @angelofdarkness1020 @totallytouya @pemichh @hecatve

[tweepunkgrl]

staying quiet as often as possible

even though the title is from “conversations with friends” by sally rooney, i was mostly reading “sweetbitter” by stephanie danier and was kind of reminded of the type of stories i like reading/writing.

Posting this before my bday! this is a prequel to “come and get me” 

recommend listening to “moonover” by kississipi

For much of the pain that it can cause, a crush can be harmless. It’s fun to have a reason to be giddy, to feel silly and girly. There’s always that rush of excitement when the eyes catch a small glimpse of their person. It doesn’t need to mean anything, just as long as a person doesn’t act on it.

I never act on my crushes. I usually bury it deep inside me, never to come up to the surface. I try to wait until it subsides, and I find someone new to be fascinated with. It’s worked so far.

But miserable is the only word I can think of as I glance to his end of the booth in the dim bar. I’m on one side with my right leg stretched out to hold my weight against everyone pushing against me each time they so much as breathed. He’s on the other side, opposite of me, next to the window with a perfect view of Gotham’s vibrant nightlife. He’s not engaged with the conversation, and neither am I. He’s stuffing fires into his mouth, having already eaten his burger. His hand is languid as he brings a fry to his mouth, and he chews on it lazily.

Jason Todd’s mind is clearly on something else while mine is solely on him.

For about three shameful years, I’ve been fascinated with Jason. No one knows about it, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But I know about it, and each day it slowly chips away a piece of my pride. Especially since he’s dating Rose Wilson. Just made it official two months ago.

Crushes are more painful with proximity, and Jason is skin deep.

“We should ask for the check,” Wally says. He searches for the waitress and makes a small motion with his index finger once he makes eye contact.

I always hated that little tick men do; the little head nods, the look in their eyes where they expect you to do something for them and they don’t need to ask. The amount of space that they need to take up, and the space you give up to accommodate them. The moment someone is required to step out of their way when walking in opposite directions. It’s little signs of entitlement that are only inherent to men. I don’t know, I think I’m someone who gets easily irritated.

The waitress drags her feet to our table, and I understand the lifeless gaze she has as she plops the check on the table. I’d rather be somewhere else too.

She gathers what she cans and gives a curt nod before turning on her heels and walking away. Dick takes the check and slides his credit card into the pocket of the black bill folder.

Jason turns in his seat, placing one hand on the table while the other rests on the headrest. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

Beside me, Kory lifts a single eyebrow. I am impressed. I can’t do that. “Rose told me you quit.”

Jason shrugs nonchalantly and pushes Wally, Dick, and Garfield with his hip, urging them out of the booth so he could get out. “I don’t remember making that decision.”

“I could use a smoke too,” the words are out of my mouth before I could even stop myself. But I do. I really do.

Jason’s green eyes settle on me and my heart is already beating so hard it could burst out of my chest and fall right on the table in front of everyone.

A thing I hate about crushes is interacting with a crush. I become too aware of myself, of all the little movements. I overthink the words I say and the way I say them. I will agonize for days about how my voice sounded when I say hi. Diction becomes increasingly important outside a high school English class. Overanalyzing everything when it probably means nothing.

“I got Camels.”

“Not the menthols, right?”

A corner of his lip tugs upwards and I instantly melt. “No. Turkish Royals.”

“Nice, those are the best ones.”

Kory turns to me with confused neon green eyes. “You smoke?”

Just like Jason, I shrug. “Occasionally.”

I try not to notice the smirk that appears in his face, as though just that one word revealed how charming of a person I could be. I somehow pulled myself out of the booth with grace, despite the nerves that wracked from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I run my hands down the skirt of my blue plaid dress and take a quick glance at my favorite pair of Jadon boots.

I look up to find his gaze settled on me. Jason’s green eyes roamed over my face, taking it all in before he turned and walked over to the door. I trail awkwardly behind him with my hands clasped together in front of me.

It’s chilly outside, and I quickly take the cigarette Jason offers, already lit and ready. I rest my back against the brick wall, its edges creating indents on my skin. He’s doing the same, but he looks cooler doing it. Dangerous and mysterious.

“Smoking is nicer with company,” he says after a minute passes. He keeps his face tilted upwards, eyes gazing at the lights of the city.

“It’s a very social activity,” I say.

There is something meditative and melancholy about standing and smoking with Jason outside the bar. It could be a result of the empty night sky above us, with the single lamppost illuminating us. There’s something in the way his shoulders seemed tended for most of the time they ate inside, and how distant his eyes seemed. There’s an invisible force field keeping him away from everyone, one that wasn’t there before. I sadly spend too much of my time watching him, and it’s not hard to notice it.

“You don’t come out often.”

“Yes I do,” I say as I take a drag. I feel like a character right out of a Wong Kar-wai movie as I do so. “You don’t.”

Jason exhales and smoke flows out from between his lips. It curls in the air. “Yeah, that’s true.”

It’s silent between us for a moment. And then he says, “I’ve been spending all my time with Rose.”

I nod my head, trying to sound nonchalant. “Makes sense. She’s your girlfriend.”

He has a girlfriend and that means nothing to me. It doesn’t impact me whatsoever.

“That she is,” is his reply.

Our group of friends makes their way to us, laughter and joy strongly resonating from them. It overwhelms whatever atmosphere there was around Jason and me. It’s jarring to be thrown out of a quiet moment and into a loud one.

Dick looks at his wristwatch. “It’s getting late.”

“Ok, grandpa,” Vic laughs. “It’s only 11 pm.”

“Yeah, we usually turn in at 2 am,” Karen says.

“Three am if we’re feeling particularly reckless,” Garfield says.

I step in. “I have work early tomorrow. I should probably start heading home.”

“Aww, Raven, nooo.” Garfield pouts his lips to me.

I snub my cigarette out with the bottom of my boot, and as I walk toward the nearest trash can, I hear Jason's voice. “You live on the east side of town, right?”

It’s startling to see that he seems to know this. But it makes sense since we run in the same circle of friends. “Ummm, yeah.”

“So does Rose. I’ll walk with you.”

“Excellent idea!” Kory says with optimism oozing out of her. “It’s dangerous to walk alone at night.”

Dick seems to like that idea. He looks at me and says, “Send a text when you get home.”

Jason rolls her eyes. “She’ll be fine. I can make sure she gets home fine.”

We’re silent as we part ways from the group. It’s not until we’re a block away that I feel the pressure of his hand on my back. It’s hot, and it burns my cold skin. It’s nice, and I just want to engulf myself in it.

“I have tequila up in my apartment,” I say. “You wanna come up for a nightcap?”

He bites the side of his cheek and says, “Sure.”

[casifer-is-king]

Private Investigator

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader

Rated: T

Warnings: some language, infidelity.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in like five years.... I'm gonna warn everyone right now that this is probably not great hahaha. But it was impossible for me to get this idea out of my head and once I started writing it just kind of kept going.... And since it's all written out now, I might as well post it. So if you read this, thank you so very much 🥺💜 This is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.

You always gave your husband the benefit of the doubt. Even when all of your friends warned you about their suspicions. So, when it came down to you telling them you weren't going to confront him about anything without proof, they took it to heart and got planning.

That is how you found yourself in a crowded coffee shop during the lunch rush. Your two best friends, Ashley and Erin, sit across from you as you all wait for the Private Investigator that they had found who knows where. Supposedly, though, he was very qualified. And prompt, you noted, as the man you assumed was here to meet you walked up to your table three minutes before the appointed time.

"You must be my 12:30 meeting?" he asks."I'm Frankie Morales."

"It's nice to meet you," Ashley speaks up, then goes around introducing you all.

Frankie shakes hands with each of you before taking the empty seat next to you. In the crowded room, his chair is set close to your side and you can feel the heat of his body next to yours. He's definitely a cute guy you notice, in a rough, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair curls out from under a worn baseball cap and his facial hair is scruffy, but kept short with a patch along his jaw that doesn't seem to grow.

“So how can I help you ladies?” he asks.

“Well it's really for our friend here,” Erin states, gesturing to you. “It's her husband. We are pretty certain he's cheating on her.”

Frankie glances over at you. “Pretty certain, huh?” he asks as the waitress brings a cup of coffee over and places it in front of him. You find yourself suddenly distracted as he tears open two sugar packets with long, deft fingers, then picks up the spoon to stir it in.

Realizing that he's probably waiting for an answer, you feel yourself blush faintly. “They are pretty certain. I just want to be sure either way. I don't have any specific proof that he's cheating,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from his hands. He's thoughtlessly twisting the spoon between his index finger and thumb. It's somehow entrancing, the way his fingers move.

“But he's definitely pretty shady,” Ashley steps in. “Suddenly he's working long hours at work, coming home late from the bars and claiming he's with his friends. Plus when is the last time he even took you out?”

The question is pointed at you, but you ignore it by looking into your tea cup instead. It had been months since the two of you had gone on a real date. It's something you both enjoyed a lot in the early years of your relationship - going out to a new restaurant every weekend and ordering three course meals just for the fun of it.

"Yeah, I see this shit all the time," he assures, saving you from having to answer. "If he's doing anything he shouldn't be, I'll find out."

Your friends and him discuss his rates and when payment is due before they rush off, both having to get back to work.

"Did you have to get going too?" Frankie asks you when it's just the two of you left at the table.

"Not yet," you reply.

"That's good." He ducks his head a little so you can't see his eyes anymore, "I was wondering if I could ask a few more questions. Like about your husband's schedule and where he likes to spend his time."

“Of course. He works at an architecture company downtown. It used to be a Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 type of job. But the past few months he's been working late, sometimes he's even going in on Saturdays. Says it's some big project and he's expecting a promotion by the end of it.”

Frankie takes note of your husband's workplace on one of the tiny napkins. When he sees that you're watching him, he ducks his eyes from view again. “Forgot my notebook,” he says sheepishly.

You crack a smile at his embarrassment, but don't say anything, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You continue on like nothing happened. “He goes out with his friends a lot, but he's always been that way. I stopped going with him a while ago. He said it brings their team spirit down when he always has to explain the game to me.”

“Not big into sports?” Frankie asks, and you can detect a bit of teasing in his tone.

“Not even a little bit,” you laugh openly.

Frankie makes a little bullet point on his napkin and writes, ‘X sports,’ on it. “Any specific places your husband goes to watch the games?”

“Usually Sally's, over on 7th street,” you provide.

“Yeah, I know it. They do the karaoke after the game,” Frankie states nonchalantly.

“Yes! That's why we agreed on that bar. I'm a sucker for bad karaoke,” you laugh.

“You should see my friend Pope after he gets a few drinks in him,” Frankie chuckled. “Man can't even sing when he's sober, let alone drunk off his ass.”

“Those are just the best performances, though,” you say with a smile.

“It's definitely something,” Frankie nods with a snort.

Your phone chimes an alarm, alerting you off your next meeting you need to get to. "I'm sorry, I actually do have to go now," you apologize, actually feeling sorry that you had to leave this conversation. Frankie is easy to talk to, and an attentive listener.

"Oh, right. Well maybe I could get your number? Ya know, just in case I have any other questions as I go?" Frankie asks quietly, dipping his head again and fiddling with his long-empty coffee cup.

"Of course!" You agree readily, taking his offered phone and adding your details into his contacts. "And thank you again for doing this. It may end up being nothing, but my friends are very overzealous."

"It's not a problem. Just doing my job. I'll let you know what I come up with either way," Frankie replies with a small smile.

As you walk out together, he holds the door open for you and your turn to him once you both come out onto the sidewalk. "Does it often end up ending well? For people you've looked into in the past..." you ask.

Frankie squints a little and his eyes show flecks of warm caramel in the sunshine. "Not often," he replies finally.

You nod, your heart dropping faintly. His honesty is appreciated though, so you grace him with a small smile. "Thank you again."

You don't hear from Frankie for the next few days, but you do think of him. Especially any time your husband does something that makes your gut do that little tug of dread.

It's five days later that you get a text.

Game night tonight. Did your husband happen to say if he was going out? Frankie asks.

You reply maybe a bit too quickly, of course he is. He's leaving here soon to meet up with the guys.

You feel a little less self conscious when it's barely a second later and Frankie is already typing back. Well let's hope that's where he'll actually be.

He'd never miss a game XD, you reply. Sports are like religion to those guys. So you get to just go to the bar and watch them watch the game? Sounds fun hah.

No one ever said it was a glamorous job, Frankie sends back. But it's always a perk when I can drink and watch some football while I'm at it.

You send back some laughing emojis, and set your phone down to heat up some dinner.

Your husband sweeps through the kitchen, grabbing his keys and jacket. “I'm meeting the guys now,” he says.

“Ok, have a good time,” you reply, turning to face him. He nods, pulling on a hat. “I love you.”

“You too,” he replies briskly, dropping a faint kiss on your forehead and walking out the door.

You sigh, plating your food and wandering back to the living room to watch something on TV while you ate.

Your phone flashes a notification and you look down to see Frankie had sent another text.

How have you been doing? He asks.

As well as can be expected, you text back.

Try not to stress too much. I'll let you know if I find anything out, he replies.

It makes you smile, even if you know there's no way you'll stop stressing at this point.

The weeks went by and texts from Frankie became more frequent. He'd ask a few questions about your husband, then branch off into asking about your day. Those conversations then opened up to you both telling stories about your jobs, which would lead to talking about other aspects of your life. You talked a lot about your pasts - he tells you about how he grew up, some funny and interesting stories from his time in Delta Force, and about his best friend's MMA fights.

You tell him about your family, tell him stories about all the ridiculous people you come across at your job, and do a lot of venting about your crumbling marriage and husband.

You feel bad every time you bring it up, but it's always so much easier to talk to Frankie than it is even Ashley and Erin. At least with him, each of your concerns weren't met with a look of pity and “I told you so,” retort.

The marriage has been spiraling for several months now, and maybe hiring a private investigator was the push you needed to really bring the issues to light. You noticed more often when your husband chose to spend nights out “with the guys” and when he'd go into the other room to check his phone. And when you finally point out the lack of time he spends with you anymore, he gets automatically defensive.

You felt alone in your relationship and it was starting to make you feel bitter. He was definitely hiding something, and you trusted that Frankie would find out for you.

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

Frankie had been working this job for a few weeks now. He'd worked a ton of infidelity investigations since he'd lost his pilot license and finally got clean. But this one was different. He wasn't sure what drew him to her, but he couldn't help but want to know her.

Was it professional to text your client every day asking her if Sally from the overnight shift left a pile of work behind for her to deal with for the fourth day in a row? Probably not. But that didn't stop him from trying to glean any little piece of information about her that he could.

He kept it friendly, though, trying not to cross farther from that line between client and something more. But she was a sweet woman, and she had seemed so quiet at that first meeting in the coffee shop. And sad. Like she didn't want to get caught up in the things her friends were saying, but somewhere deep down knew what they were saying was true.

And, dammit, Frankie always had a soft spot for sweet, sad women.

Which is why he is spending his seventh night in a row sitting in his car across the street from her husband's workplace. During their earlier conversation she had mentioned that her husband claimed he was working late tonight. But in the weeks that Frankie had been on this case, the man never worked late once.

Right on time, his target exited the building. He was not alone this time, though, having his arm around a brunette that Frankie recognized as one of his co-workers that he had gone to lunch with a couple times.

Frankie snapped a few pictures of them together, the target’s arm pulling the brunette closer than appropriate, in Frankie's opinion. They both got into his car and Frankie began to follow behind.

Just as they parked at some restaurant across town, Frankie's phone rings and Benny's name lights up the screen.

“Hey,” Frankie greets.

“Dude, where are you?” Benny asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.

“I'm working,” Frankie replied, keeping a close watch as his target is sat conveniently at a window table.

“Come on, Fish, it's Friday night! Will and I are already at the bar drinking.”

Frankie checks the clock and scoffs a bit when he sees it's only 1830. “Sorry, Benny, but I have to work late tonight.”

“You make your own hours. Isn't that why you chose that damned job? So you can decide when you do and don't work. So just decide you can't work tonight and get your ass over here!” Benny all but whines. “What's the deal with this case, Fish? I thought it was a simple cheating husband. You're not usually so obsessive over these ones.”

And leave it to Benny to call him out on his abnormal behavior. “I'm gonna close this case tonight, I have a feeling. Sorry, brother, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for practice,” Frankie placates his best friend.

“Sure, ok man. See ya then,” Benny finally gives in.

It's another boring hour of staring at his target before they are finally on the move again. Back to what Frankie assumes is the brunette's house, where they both go inside and Frankie adjusts himself in his seat to find a comfy position for the foreseeable future.

It's another two hours later when the door finally opens and Frankie scrambles to get his camera up, keeping his head down. He hopes for a little luck and is rewarded when both parties enter the doorway and embrace with a final, passionate kiss.

Frankie's camera keeps clicking away, even as his anger continues to rise. He has to hold himself back from throwing himself out of the car and punching his target in the face. He wants to know why her husband would bother with another woman when he has her at home waiting. Wants to know why her husband would throw away everything he has with the sweet woman who was so trusting at the start of all this. But that would definitely be crossing a line, and Frankie has never felt the need to go that far before. So he reins himself and waits until the target has driven away and the brunette has closed the door behind her, before he drives home himself to develop the pictures and complete his paperwork.

Developing pictures at home can be time consuming, but Frankie usually finds comfort in the task. It's a hobby he took up to distract himself from his cravings, and the darkroom usually brings him comfort after particularly stressful days. Tonight, though, watching these images fade onto the photo paper, he is angry. He knows this news is going to crush her, regardless of her suspicions. And while this is usually the case with clients, Frankie isn't sure that he could handle it if you broke down in front of him as some women have in the past.

He's learned so much about her in the past few weeks, from her favorite color to her favorite song when she was 10, and all of these things have endeared her to him in a way no other person has before. And he's opened up to her in return; in a way he hasn't any other woman in his past. But she makes it easy.

It's late when Frankie has finished compiling the file, so he decides not to text her yet and strips down for bed and drifts off, hoping for at least a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep.

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

You got a text from Frankie late the next morning, hey, dulzura. What are your plans today?

Finally my day off lol, you text back.

Think you could pencil me into your busy schedule? Say in an hour?

Frankie had yet to schedule another meeting, opting to ask any questions he had between texts about their days. With a sinking feeling, you quickly type out, definitely. How about the same café as before?

Sounds good. I'll see you then.

You got ready with a sense of dread. You knew that this meant Frankie had found something. There was that small chance that he came up with nothing in these past few weeks, but the more realistic side of you knew how this would end.

The drive to the coffee shop was short, and the parking lot was thankfully much less crowded than last time. Walking in, you spotted Frankie right away at the same table by the windows. You placed your order before heading over to the table. He was stirring a cup of coffee again, but quickly turned his whole focus toward you as you sag across from him.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Frankie asked. “Your friends couldn't make it?”

“I'm good. It's nice to see you again,” you answered. “I actually didn't tell them. I kinda wanted to find out the truth privately. I'll tell them as soon as I've processed whatever you have to tell me. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet? You found what we were looking for?”

Frankie's hand moves to the back of his neck as he gives a slow nod. He pulls a yellow envelope from the chair next to him and places it on the table between you. “Yeah. I have some pictures here.”

You begin to reach out, but stop short before touching the folder. You know if you look now, in the middle of this café, you'll just break down when you see the proof of your husband's affair.

“Please just tell me,” you implore, eyes looking up, but not quite reaching his.

Frankie is quiet for a moment, studying you with his chocolate eyes. Finally he lets out a short sigh and responds, “Andrew's having an affair with a coworker. Looks like it's been around five months.”

The news hits you directly in the chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Knowing it was likely that he was cheating and having picture proof of it are two different things. You feel like it shouldn't hurt this much, but can't help the way your body collapses into itself.

“I know it's not the news you wanted,” Frankie starts, but you cut him off.

“No, but it's what I needed to know. So thank you. I appreciate all the work you put into it. I'm really sorry, but Ashley just went out of town and she won't be back for two weeks. I can get Erin's half of your fee, then get the rest as soon as Ash is back.” You quickly switch to the business end of the meeting, hoping to delay having to come to terms with this new information.

Frankie looks a little whiplashed at the sudden change in topic, but catches up quickly. “It's really not a big deal. I'm not too worried about two weeks. How about we just meet up again once you all have everything together. No stress.”

His hands are fiddling with his coffee cup again, and you focus on them as one index finger absently caresses the handle of the cup, the thumb of his other hand moving up and down the opposite side of it. You're caught off guard again by the movement of his fingers. It's sensual, how his large hands and long fingers massage the warm ceramic.

You're distracted from your observation of those hands when the barista sets your to-go tea in front of you. Finally looking up again, you see Frankie's brows have pinched together, forming a little worry line between them.

“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” you finally fall back into conversation.

“That's fine. Really, don't stress about it,” Frankie reiterates.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly after a brief pause.

“Of course, hermosa.”

“Why did you become a private investigator?”

The question catches Frankie off guard for a second time; you can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes followed by a brief knitting of his brows. Then he quickly hides his eyes behind the bill of his baseball cap, feigning stirring his coffee a couple times. Not used to being able to see his face when the two of you have conversations, you realized he's actually quite expressive. He must know it too, because you note his hidden eyes as something you'd seen him do the first time you met him.

“You don't have to tell me,” you extended a way out for him, noting his sudden discomfort.

“No, it's fine. Um, remember when I told you before how I moved on from being a pilot to this?” At your nod, Frankie continued on slowly, like he was forming each word in his head twice before speaking it. “Well, it was less that I moved on and more that I lost my license. Uh, addiction issues. I know how that sounds! But I swear I'm clean now and -”

You can sense Frankie spiraling, so you impulsively reach out and place one of your hands on his large one. “You don't have to plead your case with me, Frankie. I'm not judging you.”

Frankie freezes momentarily, then relaxes. You feel one of his long fingers twitch on the tabletop under yours and quickly remove your hand. There's a little sigh from him before he continues, “well, anyway, this was kinda just something that fell in my lap. My friend, Ironhead, works with enlisted still and heard it's pretty easy to get into if you have the background and patience for sittin’ around and waiting. Well, I had the experience with my past in Delta Force, figured the patients would come along as I go. Never did like surveillance gigs.”

The last sentence seems like an afterthought, but you catch the mild disdain in his voice and it makes you smile to see the man in front of you sounding so petulant. “Ok, but Ironhead is an interesting name,” you comment.

Frankie huffed a laugh. “His call-sign actually. Most of us had one on my squad.”

“Oh really? And what was yours?”

“Catfish,” Frankie responds immediately.

“Catfish?” You repeat. “Where did that one come from?” you laugh a little bit.

“And that's a story for a different day,” Frankie responds with a laugh of his own.

After another small pause, your eyes drift back down to the inconspicuous envelope sitting on the table in front of you. With another small smile and a nod, you reach for the envelope. “I better get going. Lots of errands to get through on my day off.” It's a lie, but you figure a swift exit is necessary in this moment.

Frankie nods, then shifts his hat to run a hand through his already messy curls. Hat back in place, he stands and gestures that he'll walk you out.

Back outside, in the bright afternoon sun, Frankie looks down at you as he walks you all the way to your car. His eyes are caramel again, but they hold a bit of something akin to sadness in them. He drops his head, those eyes disappearing behind the bill of his cap, and slides his hands into his pockets, shoulders curving inward. “I really am sorry,” he begins. “I had hoped it would be different this time. You deserve better than some cabrón who can't see that he already has something great right in front of him.”

Frankie sounds so sincere that it stops you short. You look up at him as he peeks from under his hat. His mouth is twisted into a frown under his mustache. And that's all it takes for your eyes to begin to fill with tears.

In an instant, Frankie's arms are around you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you into a loose hug. One you could easily step away from if you had the care to do so. Instead, you step forward and accept the comfort. In a second, his arms close around you tighter and you're wrapped in his warmth, face pressed into his brown jacket. Trying not to fall apart right here in the parking lot, you catalog how his arms feel around you, and how warm his chest is.

His jacket smells like an auto garage, faintly like oil, but his shirt underneath smells woodsy - probably whatever cologne he sprayed on this morning - and, underneath that, clean like fresh linen. It's a comforting scent, and you breathe it in for a second longer than probably necessary before you finally lean back. He drops his arms immediately and takes half a step back.

“I am so sorry,” you apologize instantly.

“No, don't be. You have no reason to be. Just, um, get home safe ok?” That worry line is present between his eyes again. “Text me when you get home.”

“I'll be ok,” you assure him. You climb into your car and allow him to close the door gently for you. He steps back and gives a tiny wave before he turns and walks over to his own truck.

The drive home is a bit of a blur. You call Erin and Ashley on the way to tell them the news. Erin is instantly in her car and on her way over. “We are gonna change the locks and have ourselves a movie night,” she proclaims.

Ashley frets over not being there, but you assure her you're okay and she should enjoy her vacation. You only called because she'd freak if you told Erin before her.

Erin gets to your house 30 minutes later with a box of cheap wine and a bag full of snacks. You talk her out of changing the locks, but it doesn't matter either way because when you text Andrew to tell him you're having a girls night he tells you he's going to be out late anyway and not to wait up.

Your heart drops the way it always does when you suspect a lie. This time, though, it's not just speculation. You have the proof right in front of you, in an unopened manila envelope partially covered in chip bags.

“So is that them?” Erin speaks, noticing your gaze on the offending envelope.

“I guess so. Pictures and proof of my husband's affair with some front desk girl at his office.” Your tone is mild, but you feel a pressure building behind your eyes once more and that crushing weight settling over your sternum.

“Have you looked yet?” Erin asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you gonna?”

“We can open them together,” you suggest.

But before she can answer, your phone beeps to alert you that you got a new text message.

Hey, bonita, is everything ok? You never texted me… You safe?

His words bring a small smile to your face. Frankie always has a way of making you feel like he truly cares. Checking in often, but never overstepping into being overbearing. It's a warm welcome compared to the icy breeze of you and your husband's cohabitation of the same home, but never really living together.

You type out, yes. Sorry. Erin insisted on a girls night, and hit send.

That's good. Did she bring the salsa verde doritos?

Your smile grows at the mention of your favorite chips. Of course he'd remember something as silly as that. Frankie had a knack for remembering little details. Things you sometimes even forgot to had ever mentioned he would bring up weeks later in a random conversation. It's probably just a Frankie Morales thing, but it still always made you feel just a little special that he remembered such details.

“What has you suddenly shining like the sun?” Erin questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you know you're blushing, but you try to play it cool. “Just Frankie checking in. Making sure you're taking care of me.”

“Um, of course I'm taking care of you! Who else is gonna do it?” Erin jokes, pushing your shoulder teasingly. “Unless Mr. Morales was trying to volunteer for the job?”

“He's just being kind,” you roll your eyes at Erin's implication. “He's been very supportive through this whole thing.”

“Supportive, huh? And what kind of support might he be offering?” In a swift motion your phone is suddenly in your best friends hands and she's danced off to the other side of the room. Ignoring your protests and attempts to claim back your property, she starts swiping through weeks of conversation between you and Frankie. “Holy shit! Have you two even stopped talking since you met?”

“Come on, Erin,” you beg, “he’s just been asking for more information for his investigation and making sure I'm okay.”

“Two days ago you told him about the goldfish you got in college that died within the week. Was that pertinent information to his investigation?”

Seizing an opportunity, you snatched your phone back, clutching it to your chest. “Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up?”

“Looks like your new bestie Frankie should be here instead,” she snarks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh shut it and pour me some wine,” you reply with an exaggerated eye roll.

While your friend is busy you quickly type out a response to Frankie. She's pretty much the worst. Brought bbq instead even though she knows I hate them.

Frankie's reply is quick, or maybe that's why she brought them. So she wouldn't have to share with you, avara.

I don't know what you just called me, but I know I'm offended.

Frankie's reply is a long string of laughing emojis.

With the photos forgotten, you let Erin put on some 80’s movie and tried your best to enjoy the night. The envelope would still be there tomorrow, so for tonight you just relax.

It will probably be the last time you'll be able to in a while anyway.

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

Frankie hasn't heard from her in a few days. She doesn't text as often and it doesn't feel like his place to bother her.

Today, though, he woke up late after being out late on a surveillance job to a text from her. I'm kicking him out. I can't stand to live here with him anymore. I just want him gone and out of my life.

Squinting down at the bright screen if his phone, Frankie replies, is there anything I can do for you, bonita?

Recommend me a great divorce lawyer? Is her response. He knows it's sarcasm, but he shoots her a list of a few lawyers he knows of and trusts anyway.

Frankie was glad she wasn't going to stick around with the bastard. He'd seen that enough times to know it never works out anyway, and always makes things worse in the end.

You're amazing Frankie. Thank you for everything. I also have your payment in full btw. Do you have time this weekend to meet and grab it?

You really don't need to thank me, dulzura. I just want to help. This Sunday is good for me. At the café?

Her reply takes a little longer this time, so Frankie finally drags himself out of bed. A quick look at the time tells him he barely has time for a shower before he has to meet Ironhead and Benny for their planned fishing trip. Once Frankie is back, she had finally replied with a simple, yes.

She had rarely been short in her texts before, and it made Frankie's stomach sink a little. Shooting off a quick, let me know if there's anything you need, he pockets the phone and heads out.

A few more days pass with minimal texts. Frankie makes a point to text at least once a day. Maybe it's intrusive, but she never complains about it. And, if he's honest with himself, he misses her too much to stop now.

He realizes that she has become a fixture in his life. Going from texting multiple times throughout the day to barely a good morning text over his morning coffee makes him twitchy and he feels like he's always wondering what she's doing.

Sunday finally comes and Frankie is at the café ten minutes early, ready to finally see her in person. Ready to hold a conversation with her, even if only for a moment. But the ten minutes pass, then another ten and his leg starts to bounce under the table. She's never been late before, and Frankie checks his phone for a 20th time to make sure she hasn't texted to tell him she's had a change of plans. He decides to shoot her a text himself to make sure she didn't forget about their meeting.

Twenty more minutes with no response to his text and Frankie is back in his truck. He's already talked himself out of driving to her house and just knocking on the door several times. But as his truck rumbles to life and he exits the parking lot, he ends up turning left instead of right. Going to her house would be viewed as crossing some line in Frankie's eyes. He's never gone to a clients home without invitation before. Generally it's best to go about as if you don't even have that information, just to keep people from getting creeped out.

Frankie justifies his actions now by telling himself he just needs to see that she's okay. That her not showing up is abnormal and thus deserving of investigation.

When he pulls up to the curb across from her house, he notes the two cars in the driveway. His heart drops as he sees that one of them is her husband’s, parked neatly behind hers. Frankie knows she had told him she was kicking Andrew out, but his heart drops as he realizes maybe she had reconciled with him and he moved back. Frankie wonders if that's why she had been so distant lately.

He's about to just pull away when he notices the front door open and there she is. She has her arms full of boxes which she unceremoniously drops onto the sidewalk outside. She looks frazzled, but unharmed, Frankie takes a mental note. But she's yelling back into the house, her face red with anger.

Andrew shows himself in that moment, coming outside to scream something in her face. In the next moment, he's grabbing her roughly by the arm and trying to force her back into the house.

Frankie is out of his truck before he really has time to think. He's across the street and reaching them with quick, efficient steps in only a moment, which causes a pause in the fighting for a second. Frankie takes advantage of their confusion to gently pull her away from Andrew's loosened grip and moving her so that he is between the fighting couple.

Andrew, for his part, still has a look of surprise that has rendered him frozen in his spot. Whether that's from the way Frankie had barged into the situation or the pure anger that is radiating off Frankie's body, it's hard to say. But it gives Frankie the window he needs to pull back his fist and firmly plant it into Andrew's nose. Frankie hears the snap and feels the familiar give of a nose breaking under his knuckles.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls. “And I suggest not coming back around. Don't come near her, don't call her, don't even think about her.”

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

Once Andrew has run off, finally taking the remainder of his belongings with him, you're left alone with an angry Frankie, his fists still clenched and his shoulders tense.

Honestly, he's sexy as hell and you definitely notice. Anybody would be blind not to, you think to yourself.

You usher him inside, through to your kitchen, and pour two glasses of whiskey, sliding one over to him.

“I'm sorry I barged in,” Frankie apologizes after he takes a large gulp of his drink. “I didn't hear from you today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Shit, your money! I am so sorry.”

“It's fine, hermosa. I'm not worried about the money. I was worried about you.”

His declaration freezes both of you for a moment, before you lift your own cup to your lips and take a sizable sip.

“He was supposed to come by while I was out today, but he showed up early. I guess he's been trying to get ahold of me,” you finally break the silence.

“You guess?” Frankie repeats back.

“Well, I blocked his number cuz I got tired of his constant calls and texts. He thinks I'm being irrational and we should work this out. But I've also heard that he's been staying with his side piece ever since I kicked him out, so….”

Frankie shoots back the rest of his alcohol. “I can get you paperwork for a restraining order,” he offers.

You smile at that because of course Frankie would offer you more help. “I think you already did enough for me,” you reply.

Frankie's hand goes to the back of his neck and his head dips low, “I shouldn't have hit him. That's just gonna cause you more trouble.”

“Don't worry about that,” you chastise gently. “He got what was coming to him and he knows it. It's just that, you have done a lot for me in general these past few weeks. A lot more than I think I can pay you back for.” Speaking of which, you turn to your purse on the counter, digging through it to pull out the check written out to Frankie.

“Maybe you can pay me back with dinner,” Frankie aims for nonchalants.

It draws a breathy laugh from your throat. “It would take a lot of dinners to cover your fee.”

“Well, we could start with one and see where it goes from there.”

✨✨Part 2✨✨

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Stay With Me (Pt. 08 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

<- Previous part (07)

Next part (09)->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22, who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

×

Nightmare

It's amazing to know you're excited about the party. Luke is two months old, and since you had a welcome party in-store, you turned it into a birthday party. It'll happen later tonight, by nightfall, and you're enjoying the last moments before you have to leave the bedroom and start organizing things.

After brushing your teeth and hair, you leave the bathroom, smiling to see Daryl still lied in bed. He seems peaceful, eyes closed, so handsome in the morning light. You've been wanting to tell him something, it's been a while... But you never get the right time. Or maybe you're just a little scared...

But looking at him now, it just fades away. You and Daryl have been in a solid relationship, and despite the short time, things have been amazing. Perfect. Carol is even talking about moving out, so you and Daryl can have your own space, but you don't want to push her to it. In the privacy of your bedroom, you're fine. And living with Carol is nice.

“Hey, D.” You say in a soft voice, going to the bed and climbing on top of him. Daryl grunts something, his eyes opening, hands coming to your hips and waist. “Are you awake?”

“I am now that a kitten came to lie down on me.” He mumbles as you move up until your face is at the same level as his. You place your legs around his hips, hands sustaining your weight on each side of his head.

“Sorry.” You mutter, moving to stand up. But Daryl's grip gets tighter, and you let yourself fall, collapsing against his chest, giggling. “Alright, alright. But listen up now...”

“What is it?” He brings a hand to your face, fingers caressing your chin.

“Uhm...” Blushing a little, you clear your throat. “I... I think... No, I do.”

Daryl raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he's trying to figure it out on his own. “Ya wanna break apart?” He bursts out suddenly. “ ‘Cause if that's what ya want, I–”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” You say in a sarcastic tone, rolling your eyes. “I'm literally on top of you, Daryl Dixon. How can you possibly think I want to end things?” Moving to sit up, straddling his hips, you cross your arms. “What do you have in this pretty head of yours? Only hunting skills?”

“Yer very funny.” In a sudden motion, Daryl pulls you down again, switching positions so he's on top of you instead. “What is it then?” He asks, his face way too close.

“Can I kiss you first?”

“Nah. Ya got me curious.”

“Alright...” Taking a deep breath, you gather up some courage to push the words out. “I want a baby.” Shrugging your shoulders, you giggle at Daryl's funny face. “What?”

“Don't ya have one already?”

“Yeah...” Mumbling, you wrap your arms around his neck. “Daryl?”

“Huh?”

“I want another baby.” Smirking, you place a kiss on his lips. He's fast to kiss you back, a hand cupping your cheek. “So. What do you think?” You ask when you pull away.

“How are ya plannin’ to get one?”

You're not sure if his intention was to make you blush, but you're blushing anyway. “Uhm... First I need to get married.”

“Get married? People don't care about these things anymore.” He answers quickly, and you wonder if you went too far. Maybe it's way too early, and these thoughts should be kept inside your heart for a while longer.

“I know but... That's exactly why I care.” Sighing, you avoid his eyes. “I'm sorry, we haven't talked about this and I don't even know if–”

“Hey, calm down.” With his thumb and index finger on your chin, he makes you look at him again. You always appreciates Daryl's touch, it doesn't matter how small it is. It took a while for him to get comfortable enough to do this so easily, and you never take it for granted. He's always gentle as if you're a porcelain doll. He's never rough, never violent, not with you. Loving Daryl happened fast and strong, and it's a feeling that only grows, every passing day. “Ya wanna talk about it we'll talk about it.”

“It's just that... I-I love you. With all my heart and... It does feel like we already have this family thing going on and...” Daryl has fallen into this father role, and he's absolutely amazing with Luke. He can make him fall asleep in minutes, and you love to watch as he rocks the baby to sleep. And those moments always get your mind racing. He's already being such a good father so maybe he'd like a baby of his own... And you'd like to give him that. “...It got me thinking.”

“I love ya too, babygirl. But marriage... It would bound you with me on a whole different level.” Daryl sits up, and you follow his movement, your arms still around his neck, keeping him close. “I wanna make sure ya have the choice ta’ walk away when ya want to.”

“I won't walk away, Dixon. I love you.” He needs to be reassured of that from time to time, but you don't mind. You want to spend the rest of your life making sure Daryl knows he's loved. That he's desired and wanted. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life and if that's what you want too... You know, I'm a girlish girl, I'd like to get married someday, and honestly, if not with you then I won't marry anyone else.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look down, a shiver rolling down your spine, feeling his fingers caressing your bare thigh.

“Ya sure ya want this? With me? Are ya sure about what yer talking about?”

“I am.” You mutter in a low voice, blushing. “I am.” Repeating in a low voice, you kiss him, slowly at first, but soon enough his taste overcomes everything, and you think he feels the same since he deepens the kiss. Pulling him down again, you smile when his hand touches a ticklish spot on your side.

“Hey, you two!” Carol calls, knocking on the door. “Wake up. There's a lot to do today.”

Daryl grunts in response, not pulling away from the kiss.

But Carol is right. It'll be a long day and both you and Daryl have stuff to get ready for the party.

The day passes by quickly since you're helping everyone a little. The only thing you can't do is lift heavy stuff. Daryl forbade it, with Denise backing him up, you have no idea for how long. The party will happen at Rick's house since the living room is the biggest, and you spend hours there decorating everything. You try not to think too much about all the people who will be here tonight. You know them, you befriended them, they won't hurt you.

When it's finally time to go, you're impressed by how you feel. Happy, not scared, and actually excited. You never thought stuff like this would ever happen again. It's silly, but it keeps people sane, said Deanna. The sun is making its way to the horizon when you're getting dressed. You chose to wear a dress Daryl brought you from one of his runs. It's a light shade of blue, with thin straps and a nice cleavage in the back, reaching a few inches below the mid of your thighs. You never wear anything that will show the scar on your leg, you don't like it. Nor what it represents. You're putting on your flats when Daryl comes out of the bathroom, hair still damp, but completely dressed. He's wearing what he usually wears, always dark colors, but you don't mind. You really like it.

“Are you ready?” You ask, turning on your heels to face him. Daryl doesn't answer, eyes locked on you, lingering for so long it makes you blush. “D? Cat got your tongue?”

“Nah, it just...” He looks down at his feet before making his way over you. “Ya look beautiful, that's all.”

“Thanks.” Smiling shyly, you tiptoe to kiss him. “But I'll need a coat for when the night falls... Mind if I get one of yours?”

“Won't ya ever stop stealin’ my clothes?” Daryl fakes an annoyed tone, but it takes two seconds for his lips to break into a smile.

“Well, you stole my heart, Dixon. I'm just looking for revenge.” Winking at him, you search on the wardrobe for one of his jackets. “Now let's get going. Maggie and I baked this brownies and I'm dying for one.” Grabbing the jacket, you take his hand and leave the bedroom.

Carol is already there, so you just have to take little Luke and head out. He wants Daryl this time, so he's the one carrying him to Rick's place. As you walk there, the wind messes with your hair, and you try to keep it from your face.

“Who are the new residents, by the way?” You just remembered them. If the day wasn't so hectic, you'd ask Daryl to introduce you to them, just so you could know their faces before having to meet them at the party.

“Two men. Aaron found them starving to death a hundred miles Northwest. They're alright I guess. Since Deanna allowed them to stay.” Daryl reassures you, his free hand taking yours. “Ya ok?”

“Yeah... I'm excited, actually.” As you climb the few steps to the porch, Luke giggles, you're not sure why. “Right, little one?” Stopping by the front door, you step closer to the baby in Daryl's arm. “Are you excited too? For your party? Two months old already, you're growing up so fast.” You're still baby-talking when the door is opened, a smiley Carl gesturing for you to get in.

“C'mon, let's get ya those brownies,” Daryl says as you step inside.

It takes no time for people to come to talk to Luke, him becoming the center of attention. He throws himself on Maggie's arms, who happily welcomes him.

“(Y/N),” Rick says and you turn on your heels to talk to him. Daryl remains close, and you know why. But you feel fine, comfortable around these people. “Judith said a funny word this morning. I wonder where she learned it.” He has his hands on his hips, and you innocently shrug your shoulders.

“What word?”

“Damn it,” Daryl answers, not a hint of doubt in his voice. Rick nods, raising his eyebrow.

“Oh my gosh. Where could she have heard such a thing?” She learned it from you because that's what you exclaim almost a hundred times a day and that's not really a secret anymore. “I'm sure she said something like ‘dang it’ so I don't see how that's my fault. ‘Dang it’ it's not that bad is it?”

“Well, I think–”

“(Y/N). Daryl.” Deanna calls, and you give Rick a smirk, meaning you're happy to be saved from this conversation. Turning around, you focus on Deanna. “Come, you're the only ones who haven't met Michael and Daniel yet.”

“Ok.” You can't help but feel a little anxious to meet new people, so you grab Daryl's arm as you follow Deanna through the living room.

“Over here.” She gestures, a kind smile on her lips. “This is Daniel, and Michael, they were found–”

Her words fade when both men turn to look at you. Their faces are unmistakable, and you feel yourself sinking, skin burning, head spinning as it all comes back.

Their voices, touches, and threats. You're suddenly back there, in the darkness, starving, freezing, waiting, wishing for death to come before they did. You're in the basement where your screams used to echo. All of your wounds start hurting, pulsing, as if they were reopened, all over again.

You never got the names, but you'll never forget the faces. One of them, the you thought looked like Rick, has a smile on his lips. The same sick, wicked smile, the same he had every time he went to see you, never failing to draw some blood.

“Hi, (Y/N).” He says, in the same tone he used to. Low, dark, more animal than human.

What happens next is a blur. There's yelling, and Daryl suddenly isn't by your side anymore. He's a blur, moving towards both men, drawing punches. You're pulled back by someone, you don't know where, but you know it isn't Daryl. You know his touch by heart, and it's the only touch you want.

“Let go of me!” You yell, pushing whoever that was, sinking, falling backward until you hit a wall. You want to disappear again, to vanish from existence. With both hands covering your ears, you push yourself into the wall, hoping it'll absorb you, hide you.

“Take them. Now.”

“The trial happens tomorrow.”

“Lock those assholes up.”

“Enjoy your last night on Earth.”

The words have no meaning, they just keep echoing. The low chattering, the many footsteps... Why are you still here? Why can't you be strong for once and just run? Run where? If they're here... Where else could you go?

“Babygirl,” his low, calming voice is like a beacon, lighting up the darkness, bringing you back, pulling you into consciousness again. Into life.

Moving just a little, hands off your ears and muscles relaxing, you look at him, immediately running to his arms. “They're here. They're here, they... They found me.”

“Alright, calm down now.” He holds you tight, a hand rubbing your back. “Let's get ya outta here.”

Nodding, you offer no resistance when he picks you up. You keep your eyes closed, face hidden on the crook of his neck as you float away. It feels like the first time, when he was carrying you from the infirmary into what's now your house.

You flinch a little when you're pulled down, suddenly recognizing your bed and curling up, pulling the blankets over your head.

“How is she?”

“I don't know.” Daryl sounds angry, furious. “I'll kill them right now.”

“No, Daryl. The trial will be tomorrow. You know they'll die for what they did”

“I don't care!”

“You need to stay with her now.”

You know it's Carol, but still, you want her to go. You need everyone to go away now, you just need Daryl. You need to... Go away. Alexandria isn't safe anymore. You rather face the dead.

Silently, moved by fear, you get up, taking the dress off, and struggling with the first pair of jeans you find.

“(Y/N),” Daryl calls, but you ignore him, sight blurred by the tears as you put a shirt on. “Hey, (Y/N).” You don't know what to take... You just need to leave. These walls won't keep you safe anymore. If you stay... You know they'll find you again.

“I'm leaving.” You mumble, looking around and finding the white sneakers you left by the edge of the bed and putting them on.

“What–”

“I'm leaving! I can't stay here. If I stay here it'll happen all over again.” You're yelling, sitting on the bed, sobbing. “They're here, they'll take me again, they-they–”

“Shh, yer ok.” Daryl pulls you up, into his arms, and you melt. The sobs are muffled by this jacket, and your tears are certainly soaking the fabric. “Look at me, babygirl. Look at me.” Slowly, you raise your head, his blue eyes acting immediately, like a medicine made only for you. “There's a place I can take ya for the night. But ya need to be here tomorrow. To officialize their crime so I can kill those–”

“Take me away, please.” You beg, holding onto him as if he's the only thing keeping you sane. Alive. Because he is. “Please, if I stay here I'll–”

“Alright, alright.” He nods, a hand caressing your cheek. “Let's go then. C'mon.”

Everything happens in the background, you feel. Carol stays by your side in the porch, guiding you to the car Daryl took to drive you away. You barely feel your body now, out on the street, feeling their eyes on you... Their eyes, evil and disgusting, as they lust over you. You know they're not here, but still, you feel them. Wanting you to cave in, to agree to fulfill their needs in the most vile, degrading ways. You're hyperventilating when the gate opens, the woods before you suddenly looking far safer than these walls.

When Daryl crosses the gate, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, lungs burning. The sun is coming down, so there are a some shadows creeping in... But it's better out here. The wall will keep them inside, you hope.

“Babygirl,” Daryl says, getting your attention. “We're almost there, alright?”

“Ok.” You mumble, and Daryl puts a hand on your knee.

“Nothin’ will hurt ya. Never again. M’ gonna keep that promise.”

Holding his hand, your eyes meet his when he gives you a glance.

Around ten minutes later, Daryl stops the car. You haven't noticed before, but he parked in front of a small, wooden house. It looks like it was some kind of cabin in the woods since there are no other constructions around it. “C'mon.” He says when he opens the passenger door for you. Your legs feel a little weak, but you manage to stand up, immediately looking around. “There's nobody here, I promise ya.”

Nodding, you let him guide you inside, a flashlight on his hand. Daryl unlocks the door, and you wonder why he has the key to this thing. When you step in, the light coming from in between the planks on the windows helps you see the interior. There is a cough and a coffee table, you recognize it despite the dark plastic covering both things. Walking further in, you peak at the kitchen. Everything is clean and has a plastic placed over them. It kinda looks live someone used to live here not too long ago.

“I found this place a while ago.” Daryl starts, placing his backpack on the floor. “Was fixin’ it, cleanin’... So I could bring ya here every once in a while.” He gestures at the whole place in general, and you take another look around. He did say he'd try to find a place he could take you outside Alexandria, but you never thought it would be this good. “Still has a lot to do. Gonna put electricity, runnin’ water will be more complicated but I'll do it.”

“You're doing all that for me?” You whisper, hoping the dim light will hide your blushing cheeks.

“Yeah... Wanted to bring ya here under different circumstances but...” He takes the bag again, gesturing at the hall. “First door to the right it's our bedroom.”

Following his direction, you open the door to a small bedroom with a double bed, also covered with black plastic. The windows have wooden planks on it too, but there's enough space in between them so let some light come in.

“Here, lemme’–” Daryl drops the bag, walking over the bed and removing the plastic. Underneath, the light green sheets seem comfortable and you get it now why everything is covered up. To keep it clean. “Ya can lie down it ya want to. Brought some blankets.” As you move to the bed, Daryl searches in the bag, picking up two blankets and fixing them on the bed. “Ya hungry? Or thirsty? I brought–”

“I just need you, Daryl.” You whisper, drying off some tears that are still rolling down. “Can you come here?”

“Of course, babygirl.” Quickly, he leaves the bag behind and joins you in bed. Daryl pulls you close, you head on his chest as his arms hold you tightly, keeping you safe.

“I hope this is just a nightmare... That I'll wake up tomorrow and it'll all be gone.” Mumbling, you push yourself even closer to him, if that's even possible.

“I'll kill them myself, I swear.” There's a fire in his voice, hate. You've never heard him talking like that, his chest vibrating powerfully. “I'll wipe them off the face of Earth.”

Involuntary, your hand finds its way to your leg, to the scar. The pain is a vivid memory today, and for a moment you feel like you should lie down, as motionless as you can so it won't hurt. So the stitches won't rip again.

How is it possible that all the horrible memories came back all at once? On one second? “I-if I didn't have you, I... I'd die today, I know I would.”

“Nah, ya wouldn't.” Moving, he brings his index finger to your chin, making you look at him. “Yer stronger than ya give yourself credit for. Ya don't see it, but I do.” Then, he places a soft, sweet kiss on your lips, which is sadly, too brief. “But I will protect ya. Always, until my days are over.”

“Daryl, I–”

“I wanna marry ya.” He bursts out, his low voice burning through your head as you wonder if you heard him right. “When this is over and those monsters are dead... I wanna marry ya.”

Despite the terror, creeping through your skin, the darkness threatening to swallow you again, you smile. Everything fades away, and a different kind of happiness washes over you. A type of bliss you didn't even know existed. Unable to control yourself, you climb over him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you,” you mutter, not giving him the chance to answer, connecting your lips on his in a loving, passionate kiss.

×

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd @browneyes528 @btsiguess-kpop @a-dlv @bibibeauelle @lightning-butterfly @yttricuz

[g0ldengubler]

12 ~ But Tonight, You Belong to Me

A/N: this is just the beginning of the chaos....also i’m almost at 1k followers!! that’s insane, and because of that i might just have something special coming for once i do hit it ;) one more thing, i’m doing a summer semester this year, and because of that the next couple of months might have more slow posts. i just ask that you please be patient with me when it comes to posting for now. thank u so much for reading!

Category: Angst

CW: Talks involving a case, talking about panic and stress and how dark the mind can go. please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable with reading.

Summary: Y/N and her friends search for the person who left the note. Things don’t go quite as planned once they find them.

Words: 4530

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~

The weight of the world was on your shoulders. You could only feel the pins and needles from your elbows to your fingertips as if they were numb. Everything was heavy, from a single case file to someone speaking. At one point you couldn't hear words, you just heard muffled voices through the white noise. Your mind couldn't stop running a million miles a second with the worst of the worst while trying to keep it together. Agents were walking in and out of your apartment, checking for any bugs or clues from the hallway camera footage. Your team went asking others in your building if anything strange had happened and Garcia came straight over to multitask work and comfort. She sat next to you on the couch with her laptop in front of her. You kept your focus on the clicking and clacking of her nails hitting the keys as you ate the donut she got you and drank your tea, the sweet comforting taste of pumpkin almost calming your nerves, but not by much.

Not looking away from her screen, Garcia placed a hand on your back, rubbing up and down softly. Being pulled out of your thoughts, you took a quick glance at her. The team all looked so tired and drained. When you found the letter at your door, you immediately called everyone including Gacia, sobbing and trying not to scare your dogs too much. They solved the case the next day and then came straight to your apartment. Garcia came as quickly as she could after the call. Spencer was worried sick, he didn't want to leave your side and almost argued with Hotch about it. But you told him that doing his job will help immensely, and he listened to you. Still mad at Hotch, he stormed out with Emily to ask around.

After hours of searching and not finding much, all the other agents packed up their gear and equipment and headed out, while your friends stayed behind. Spencer sat next to you on the other side of the couch while everyone else sat in the chairs in the living room or grabbed a chair from the kitchen. Seth came by as soon as the whole bureau left, as they wouldn't let him in to take care of the dogs for you. He sat on the floor by your feet, petting Draco while you were holding Benedict. The softness of his hair helped you calm down enough to talk to your friends.

"Y/N," said Rossi, "are you sure you know who left you the note?"

"I'm positive," you weakly spoke, trying to hold in everything, "It's him. It's Michael Gabin."

"How do you know Gabin?" asked Jj, holding the letter in its plastic evidence bag.

"He was my high school 'best friend', although he wasn't really a good one..."

"How so?" asked Hotch.

"He never supported me in my dreams. He made fun of me like everyone else, he would ditch me for parties and use me. I was just something to do to him, we weren't really friends now that I think about it."

Spencer put his arm around you, pulling you in and kissing the top of your head as he rubbed your shoulder. "I just don't understand why he would do this. He didn't give a shit about me."

"Maybe there's something deeper going on with him. We'll figure it out." said Morgan.

"How do you know it's him, though," asked Emily, "What in the letter stood out to you?"

You slowly grabbed the letter from Jj and moved the bag around so then it was better to see. You drifted your finger along the first sentence. " 'Did you connect the dots, you nerd?' That was what he called me. Almost every sentence towards me ended in that and it got annoying at one point. I wasn't even upset anymore about the name just the fact that he used it all the time to get on my nerves."

"You'll get the bastard, I know you can!" said Seth. There was silence. You looked down at him and smiled, knowing that he was really saying that he's right beside you in this. You looked around the room, feeling the same thing for all of them. They were your family, and they were willing to do everything and anything to keep you safe and help you. You didn't know what you did to deserve people like them.

"We'll pick up again bright and early in the morning," said Hotch, "When we come in, Garcia, I need you to look into Gabin's backstory-work, school, family, friends. Morgan and Emily, talk to his parents or any family member to get their side of the story. Jj and Spencer, I want you both to stay with Y/N tomorrow and help her go through his story, compare what she knows to what we find out. Maybe there's something that's there but just never clicked. Rossi and I will handle protection for you, Seth, and your father."

"As for now, let's all try to get a bit of rest," said Rossi, standing up from his chair and fixing his suit. He walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, "Don't you worry kiddo. We're all here."

As everyone got up, gave their tightest hugs to you, and started heading out the door, Spencer stopped Hotch. "Hotch, is it ok if I stay with Y/N tonight?" He asked.

Hotch looked at him, then at you, then back at him, and nodded. Then left and closed the door behind him. Seth left with the crowd, saying he'd come tomorrow to look after the dogs for you. The two of you lay on the couch, you on top of Spencer as he played with your hair. Your head was on his chest, laying on your stomach with your arms rested on top of his shoulders. It shouldn't have scared you that badly. Yeah, he wasn't a good friend. But Michael doing this years after high school, he was being the loser this time. Not you. Spencer reminded you, though, that anyone leaving a note like that at your door is scary. If they didn't leave a clue that would help you figure him out, anyone would be terrified.

~~~

Waking up to the smell of french toast and coffee, you learned as you walked in on Spencer setting the food down on the coffee table, that he knew what to do to cheer somewhat up in some ways. He knew what to do to make you smile even if it's small like making you breakfast. You watched from the hallway door frame as your dogs chased each other around your apartment, almost knocking Spencer over while he had your glasses of water in his hands. What gave you away was your little giggle. He looked up after setting the glasses down, smiling. You walked over to each other, right in both your arms and his, almost seeing who can give the tightest hug possible.

You tried to look as best you could for going into work, but you really weren't feeling it. You were told to not come in today but you could still do work from home since you're now both agent and victim. Jj came over early that afternoon with lunch in her hands. She had gotten subs from a place around the block and some peach flavored ice teas, and when she walked in and sat everything down, she let you and Spencer know that you weren't needed yet until Garcia, Morgan, and Emily got their info so then we could try and match them up. She played with your dogs with Seth while you tried to watch tv or YouTube videos to keep your mind of something you didn't need to really think about at the moment.

Spencer sat next to you on the couch, one arm around you while the other held his coffee mug. One leg over the other, he used his knee to balance the book he was currently reading. That's what was really helping you distract yourself after a while, as you had turned on a lofi video to have music going in the house, the way his fingers would go down the page like he was pretending to read. His middle finger would travel the page while his ring and index fingers were in the air, not missing a single word. You nuzzled the back of your head on his shoulder, hands to yourself. Everything finally felt fine.

~~~

Later that afternoon, Garcia, Morgan, and Emily came in, the dogs running up and jumping on them. The two sat in the chairs while Garcia sat on the other side of you on the couch setting up her laptop. Jj was still with Seth and the dogs on the floor, petting them and giving them belly rubs. After asking if they wanted anything, you got up and went to the kitchen to make them coffee. Spencer didn't want you to at first, but you reassured him that you were ok enough to make it. You never met a man like him that had so much trust in you after speaking up on his concerns and worries. Setting them down on the coffee table, it was time now to compare.

"Garcia was able to find his mom easily," said Morgan, "She moved to D.C. a couple years back."

"And Michael had been staying with her for the past year," Emily chimed in, "He had got into trouble in Detroit with drugs and his mother had him move in with her so he could get help."

"That's a big lie," said Garcia, typing away at her laptop, pulling up different windows that showed his spendings and purchases, "He's been sending money to someone through Venmo and by the looks of the prices, he's not just giving this person gas money."

"Did he experiment at all in high school?" asked Jj.

Taking a moment to process the info that was just told to you, you think back again to the days he'd sneak into your room from the window after a party, trying to tell you all he did and be either be too drunk or pretend to be too drunk to care about you in the slightest. You'd be asleep and you'd feel him shake you awake at 3am. He never asked how your day went, not that you cared if he did after a while, but you listened and listened until you were drifting in and out, trying to stay awake.

"Not really," you finally said, "he would drink sometimes at parties but most of the time he was faking it to seem cool. He was lying to everyone back then and everyone knew he was just puffing his chest. He thought he was so cool because all the popular kids and druggies and alcoholics would always talk with him and hang out, but really they were playing him like a game, or like some form of entertainment."

"His mother said she let him stay with an old friend of his after a few months living with her. Do you recognize the name Sarah Sammuels?" asked Morgan.

"Yeah. She was one of the popular girls."

"Looking into her backstory," said Garcia, "she had been a stoner all throughout high school. And from what it looks like, after high school her and Michael bumped into each other, became friends, and she got him into weed and other drugs like LSD, cocaine, molly. When he found out she also had moved here, he convinced his mom that it was best if he lived with her. Since then, they've been going to the same guy."

"Where does he work?" You asked.

"He works at a burger joint and...eww it's a really crappy burger joint called Ben's Burgers," She typed away, pulling up more windows, "Doesn't pay him enough as he's said in multiple posts on Facebook..." Her face looked as if two people ran into each other and got seriously hurt, almost like a 'That's going to hurt in the morning' type of expression, as she read one of the posts. We all looked and everyone else had the same reaction. You, on the other hand, weren't too surprised by this.

"That definitely sounds like him," you said, "Michael could never hold even the shittest of jobs."

"What else do you know about him," asked Emily, "Did he ever talk about home?"

"That's all he talked about when he was drunk. His dad was abusive to him when we were kids and then left him when we were in middle school. His mom really did try throughout the years but he wasn't having it. He was always so mean to her for no reason. Come to think of it, it's quite shocking he and Sarah get along so well. He never really treated any girl or woman with respect."

"Was his father like that?" asked Spencer.

"I'm not sure, but I wouldn't be surprised."

"I did look into both his parents," said Garcia, "His father was definitely not nice to women at all growing up. His mother was very abusive towards him, going so much as making him stay home from school a lot to get her alcohol and hurt him. She'd lock him in the shed with no food or water for days and no one knew. By the time he was ready to report her, she passed away due to liver failure."

"So...maybe this is Michael's way of getting back at women. Maybe his father told him something before he left." said Jj.

"Maybe. But right now, let's give this information to Hotch and Rossi and then we'll continue our search from there." said Spencer.

Morgan got up from his chair and pulled his phone out of his pocket as he walked to the kitchen. Seth softly rubbed your knee as a way of showing support as he got up from the floor. He said he was thinking about walking the dogs at the park and offered to everyone if they wanted to join. You focused on the conversation, but your ears were also paying attention to Morgan and what he was telling Hotch.

"Hotch," said Morgan, "so we found some more things on his back-..." He was cut off mid sentence, listening to what Hotch had to say. From the look on Morgan's face, it didn't sound like good news. "Wait he did what?!...Um, ok we'll be there in five...are you sure?...yeah you're right. Ok, we'll be there as fast as we can." He hung up the phone and looked at all of us worried.

"Seth, you're going to have to walk the dogs on your own today. Something happened at Quantico and Y/N needs to come with us."

"What happened?" asked Emily, everyone looking quite concerned.

"Michael somehow managed to sneak another note in one of the case files. Everyone in the building checked everything but he was nowhere to be found, so either he somehow disguised himself as an agent or we have a mole helping him out."

The weight was coming back. Everything was slowly getting heavy again, and Spencer could tell. He held your hand tightly and squeezed, letting you know he was there. It shook you from your thoughts and suddenly a little of the weight lifted once you looked into his hazel eyes. He smiled, and for a moment you felt safe all over again. That only lasted until you got to the 6th floor, where you found Hotch and Rossi sitting in Hotch's office. When they saw you guys come in, they came out and stood at the railing. Looking around, you saw some agents from different departments running in and out, collecting all they could to help out yours. Phones were ringing like crazy, and the amount of talking that was going on turned into white noise again.

Hotch advised everyone to go to the conference room, and as you all walked in Spencer still held your hand firmly, even when you sat down. He rolled his chair closer to you, and while you thought that Hotch would say otherwise, he surprisingly didn't say anything about you two being so close. He stood with Jj in front of the screen, looking around the room. His eyes met with yours and you could tell he saw right through them. The worry and the panic, the fear and the pain.

It was almost as if he understood so much that he was letting you be.

Rossi later walked in with the new note already in an evidence bag in his hands. Jj soon put it up on the screen for everyone to see (read), but looking around the room you saw confused expressions.

"So the guy is a fan of codes?" asked Morgan.

"Does any of this mean anything to you?" asked Hotch.

You nodded. "Michael was obsessed with codes. He'd give me one that he didn't think I could solve and when I did he'd give me one even harder. I knew he was doing this to get under my skin, but honestly I had a ball solving them. Codes are always fun."

"Go with Garcia and Spencer to her lab while they look over the letter and figure it out. Jj, the press somehow found out about today's note, so I would like you to talk to them and tame the situation. Emily and Morgan, you're with Rossi and I to go to the morgue and look at the bodies again. Compare what you find with what happened today and anything the three can find."

~~~

"We've cracked some of the hardest codes an unsub can come up with, yet THIS ONE is the one that's giving us so much trouble. Even for our boy wonder over here and it's numbers! His favorite."

"That's Michael for you, Garcia," You said. You were sitting next to her at her desk while Spencer sat on the table behind you, watching the monitors from above, "It's shocking that he got better at them. I thought he'd be over it after we graduated." You turned around and saw your boyfriend, looking stumped.

There was a moment of silence. "Hello? This is where the doc comes in with some other ways of solving the code." said Garcia.

The more you stared at him the more you realized he wasn't stumped, he was in his head figuring it out. "Bubs?" Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, blinking a few times. "Yeah...yeah sorry," He got up from the table and walked closer to the screen. He and Garcia got to work, pulling up all different alphabets and putting them in grids. The three of you came back together and compared the note to each one, but still nothing.

The more you stared at the note, the more you began to think. It was right on the tip of your tongue. It felt so familiar to you, so nostalgic. It then hit you like a train, the numbers and how they were specifically arranged. They didn't belong to any real alphabet, only yours. "I know what this is."

"You do?" They asked at the same time.

You signaled Garcia out of her chair and once sitting, you went to work. "The one thing he used on me to make me think we were actually friends was our code. He created a code for us to use in class or any situation where we wanted to talk to each other without anyone knowing what we were saying. He liked using stuff like that because he knew I was a sucker for this kind of stuff." As they watched, you put the numbers from the note on one line, and your alphabet in a line below that. The computer matched them up and generated a message that read:

'Why was the princess locked in a wine cellar? So then she could spend her days planning an escape. But the grandfather clock kept ticking, and when she sobered up, she soon realized it was all a lie.'

"Who knew we had two geniuses in our pockets!" said Garcia, who you switched spots with so she could put it together in her file.

"Not a genius, just gullible." You said, trying your best to sound ok. Spencer could tell, however, that you weren't. You pulled your sleeves down so then your hands were covered before crossing your arms over your chest. You looked down to the floor, staring down into space. Was this starting to get too much for you? The more you figured out, the closer you were to getting him. Sure, he wasn't a good friend to you in the slightest, but what if it got bad? What if he had to be shot at?

"You ok, bubs?" He whispered to you, but you didn't hear him. Your mind kept building up your worries, making you shake a little bit. You felt like you were about to explode until you felt someone grabbing your hands, making you look up and see Spencer looking worried.

You grabbed his hand and gave a half smile. "I'm ok." You said, giving you a half smile in return. He understood you were trying to be strong, but didn't like seeing you in so much stress. He wished he could hold you tight while laying on the couch and make you feel safe. He wanted to protect you from whatever was going to happen, protect you from Michael. Even though he was of course going to let you do your job if Hotch allowed, he wasn't going to not do anything if the chance came.

"Ok, looking at this there is one obvious clue," said Garcia after a few moments of silence, "like how the princess is you, but I'm stumped on the rest."

You looked at the first sentence again, trying to put something together. "Garcia, are there any abandoned restaurants in D.C. that would have a wine cellar?"

She looked through her database and came across one that was surprisingly down the street from your apartment. "It was just recently closed down about 6 months ago and it's expected to be demolished two days from now." said Garcia. With this info, you ran with it and took it to Hotch, who gave his orders to the team before calling in backup. You walked to the cars with your vest on and gun ready, thinking you were going to go on the field with them until Hotch walked up to you as you were about to get in one of the cars.

"Y/N, I need you to step back only a little bit. You are going out on the field but only to talk to Michael. In no way are you going to fire at him if it does come to it, understand?"

You nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't want to shoot him even if I had to. He deserves to be locked up, not killed."

Hotch nodded as he put a hand on your shoulder, patting it a few times as he walked off to the other car. You sat next to Emily in the back while Morgan and Spencer sat up front. A ride that took only 10 minutes felt like hours, as the nerves in your stomach grew and grew the closer you got. For a split second, you almost got mad at Morgan because you thought he was taking his sweet time driving, which wasn't like him at all-or really any agent for that matter. You weren't really ready to see Michael again, especially in a situation like this. Graduating high school, you remember giving a big middle finger to the building before you got in your dad's truck. Not only was it generally to the school, but also to its students, including Michael. You thought you'd never see him or anyone from your class ever again.

What would he be like? Would he be completely different and act as any other unsub would, or would he be himself? Michael, who used his charm to get what he wanted out of you. The one who would pretend to be nice to you around certain people and then turn into a douchebag around others. What would he do this time? Would he even try to do anything at all? There was more to the note that you didn't even touch on, which usually isn't like them. Maybe they just wanted to get the bastard as fast as they could, but the last part, 'But the grandfather clock kept ticking, and when she sobered up, she realized it was all a lie'.

What was the lie?

~~~

The building was deteriorating bit by bit, ripping away all its history. According to the file on your phone, this restaurant was a family business for almost 100 years and they were getting ready to build a whole new, more modern take on the place before it completely crumbled to the ground. There were apartments above it, where the whole family lived. This was the perfect spot for Michael to hide-old, broken, and so weak that one touch could be dangerous.

Getting out of the cars, you gathered with swat in front of the building and began coming up with a strategy. Spencer held your hand tightly and kissed the top of your forehead before separating. You were with Hotch and Rossi while Spencer was with Jj and Emily and Morgan with swat. You carefully entered the front, as the door was already unlocked. Immediately you knew this was a trap and you hoped that the rest of the team knew that, too.

Flipping the switch to see that the electricity was still working, you checked all over the bottom floor from the dining area to the kitchen. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing looked like an obvious clue. Everything was clear, but before you could get upstairs the lights went off and everything became a blur. You heard gunshots, yelling coming from everyone around you. Then you heard an even louder scream, lower in tone but very familiar, and the panic began to set in.

"Spencer?" You called out.

Silence.

The lights shortly came back on and everyone gathered in the dining area again. You looked everywhere for him, but you thought you were just too frantic that your brain wasn't working right. Bumping into someone, you thought it was Spencer but instead when the person turned around and saw that it was Rossi, you broke. Without even thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, crying on his shoulder. Rossi held on tightly to you, not knowing why until he heard you whisper Spencer's name repeatedly.

"HOTCH," yelled Morgan as he came out of the kitchen, "Where's Spencer?"

"He wasn't with you?" asked Hotch.

"He was until the lights came back on. I thought he went to Y/N."

'Michael didn't," you thought, '...Michael couldn't have.'

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Astor nodded. He and paced the hall and muttered under his breath.

“I see...I never meddled in the realm of technology...but to think that Sheikah Technology could hold such a secret.” He tapped his chin, staring at the astrolabe on the other side of the dungeon bars. “I suppose it makes sense. The advanced accomplishments and feats that such technology is capable of...it’s only naturally that it is powered by unconventional means.”

Siv spun the Sheikah Core on his index finger like it was a ball. “Yeeeep. I’m guessing that’s what allowed the super old dudes to beat the Calamity all those years ago.” He shook his head. “So, yeah. Dick Lord Ganon is gonna use that to turn the Guardians and Divine Beasts against us. And even if the science peeps keep researching into them...well.” He looked up at Astor. “Obviously, they would never figure out this crucial little detail even after a hundred years of science-ing. So this is our little secret, capiche?”

Astor nodded again. If what Asivus was saying was true (And it was) then Hyrule were truly doomed. The Calamity would exploit this secret, and use it to flip the entire war on its head. This is what Ganon would use to turn the Divine Beasts against them.

If any of the researchers found out about this aspect of Ancient Technology, and adapted to it, then Ganon would lose his biggest advantage...and it might be possible to...

The seer quickly shook away the thought. No, even if they knew, the world would be helpless all the same when the Princess fails to awaken their powers. In fact, it would probably be more brutal if Ganon’s forces were reliant completely on the bludgeoning and stabbing that came with monsters. Machines would have avoidable patterns in a post-apocalyptic world, but monsters of malice would be exceptionally harder.

So yes...We keep this info from everyone. Especially Robbie and Purah and...

“How sure are you that no one else could figure this out?” Astor asked.

“Decently sure. I mean, it’d be pretty hard to guess such a crazy thing.” Asivus shrugged.

“Are you positive? Because I know my—” He stopped in his tracks, suddenly stumbling on his words. “I—in reference to random researchers—other non-specified—she’s not—Look. There are very talented and intelligent researchers across the kingdom, surely someone—”

“Did you say it yourself? Everyone’s way to arrogant around here!” Siv threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “No one’s gonna look for faults in their perfect little war machines! They shoot lasers, and don’t talk back. It’s a general’s wet dream. Even if someone figured out this secret, no one here would listen to them.” He waved his hand in a circle and gestured towards his half brother. “Case in point: You.”

Astor folded his arms and sighed. “Alright, fine. So that’s how the Calamity will turn the Guardians and Beasts against us. But what’s the actual execution of it all? The plan? What’s your play in this? How did the Guardians in the yard get corrupted?”

Siv was silent; thinking. He seemed to be endlessly swimming through thoughts and words and memories. The man fiddled with the discs surrounding the astrolabe, eyes drooping in misery. Interesting.

“I was supposed to make them. That’s what he wanted,” Asivus finally said. “Beast of water, lightning, air, and fire. Or, demons? Blights or something. Creatures that were to take on the Divine Beasts.They’re built slightly different than Guardians, so he needed a little something special to deal with ‘em.” He blew hair off his forehead with a huff. “It all sorta just came into my head in the minutes before I fucked up those Guardians, so the details come and go, but that’s the gist. I make the Blights, Ganon does his thing, then I wait at the Sanctum to achieve true happiness or whatever he was bullshitting.”

“But you failed.” Astor interjected. “You failed to make the blights, and thus today’s calamity failed. At least, in this timeline.” Siv opened his mouth to object, but he continued to think outloud. “The Guardians were a fluke, then. You were not capable of creating Blights, but wielded enough malice to corrupt a Guardian. Although that brings into question how you control malice to begin with...and why you were chosen specifically for the task...”

Asivus was silent again, spinning the astrolabe on the floor. Astor observed him for a moment.

“Is he speaking to you? At the moment?” The seer asked. “Every time you fall silent is when you start looking down at that device. That thing I can correctly assume is the instigator of all this, given that you look at it every time I ask about the recent Guardians you ruined.”

Asivus narrowed his eyes at him, annoyed at being so readable.

“Ganon isn’t in your head, as you said you were overcome with this information in the minutes you truly held that astrolabe and walked by the Guardians.” He thought back. “Earlier before the incident you said you had a dream, and then you found the astrolabe? You leave it on your desk as a paper weight, before developing the decent moral to drop off a potential lost item to the Sheikah. But then you were holding the astrolabe in proximity to the Guardians, and subsequently are suddenly given the revelation to the Calamity’s plan...”

He locked eyes with him. “Combine that with the truth about all Sheikah Technology itself...and the fact that your eyes only change when that core is in your possession...”

Astor walked closer and gripped one of the bars, calmly. “That astrolabe is the link between you and the Calamity. It speaking to you through it. It’s lending you the power to control malice. It’s a manifested vessel of Ganon’s ill intent for this world...perhaps made of whatever malice plagues yourself. Perhaps he chose you for the job because you’re brimming with his favourite substance.”

Assivus started at the seer, and blinked once. Astor took that as confirmation, but asked anyways: “Am I wrong?”

Siv bit his tongue for a moment, before sighing in defeat. “You’ve got Ligero’s mannerisms down to the T. The perceptiveness nearly makes me wish I had actually paid attention to his parenting attempts.”

Something twisted inside Astor at that comment, and his voice grew a dangerous edge. “I’m nothing like him.”

“It’s alright, don’t take it personally. I just have a love-hate relationship with smart people.”

“Tsk.” The prophet stared down the corridor in thought. “Don’t we all.”

“But you’re wrong about one thing.” Siv added, and he looked up at Astor with a new seriousness. “I didn’t ‘fail’ to make the blights.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t fail to make the blights, I didn’t want to.” Asivus raised his voice, and rolled the astrolabe to the other side of the cell. “You can’t fail something you never really attempted in the first place.” He winked. “I mean, that’s been my philosophy on life for the last 15 years, heh.”

Astor blinked in surprise. “But...why? The world is doomed, and you were handed a position of life and power on a silver tray. Chosen above anyone else.  Why wouldn’t—?”

“I didn’t do it because I’m not like you, pissface!” Siv snapped. “I jump outta my socks to make a selfish decision. I don’t just run away from any inconvenience in my life.”

Astor nearly laughed. “Oh? And what exactly is it that you do, then? You’re really going to preach to me, Mr. Assivus Asunder?”

“YEAH! That name is exactly why I decided this!” He waved his arms in the air, and gestured to himself as he slumped against the wall. “Taking action and fighting for anything, regardless of what, sucks ass. Initiating change? Bad. Acting on what you care about? No likey.” Siv pounded his chest proudly. “The ideal ending for Asivus Ex-Hartell is to just chill out, and wait for the end. Drink in hand!”

He raised his empty flask, but nonetheless pretended to drink.

Astor frowned, but let the distant drip of leaking water echo in the corridor.

He watched Siv for a few more minutes, silently tapping his fingers on his elbow.

“You still care about your brother.”

It was a good think his flask was empty, as otherwise he would have spit out his drink. Siv angrily sputtered. “The fuck does that have to do with anything—?!”

“Why are you just relaxing in there after all this time?  You think you deserve this? Don’t want to be a burden for others?” Astor looked him up and down.

“Listen, you little shit. I know at this point it shouldn’t be a surprise that my family is made up of asshole, but—”

“You know when I first saw you around the castle, I did recognize you. The eyes, you see. But of course, I didn’t see the need to trouble you with my story, but I did watch you.” The prophet sneered. “Dear Asivus Hartell, sneaking into town to share a peach cobbler with his niece. Assivus Asunder, teaching his nephew to shield surf, and trying to encourage him down a more righteous path than his own. The Royal Orator Siv, who thanks his little brother for taking care of him by spending four hours making perfect hand drawn rat doodle cards.” Astor leaned down with a smirk. “You’re not the only one who paid attention to the captain’s birthday presents.”

“Alright get to the point, fuckface.” He waved the prophet off. “What? I screw around with my dumb family. What’s it gotta do with anything?”

“It means that for all your talk of laying down and dying and giving up, your action seems to indicate that you don’t actually believe that.” He jabbed a finger at Siv through the bars. “Or at least you don’t fully. Maybe you don’t want to. So don’t go blathering about your sorry life, only to try and insult me in the next minute. This isn’t about your apathy. You’re just scrambling at this low bar Ganon gives you as you drool the rare opportunity to unequivocally be an undeniably good person. You just want to tell yourself you’re a hero.”

Quiet.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“OK.” Asivus curled his lip. “I didn’t want to join Ganon, because I’m still stupidly trying to not be an asshole. I’m too much of a wuss to commit to the dickhead role I was probably meant to fulfill. I’m pathetically trying to keep control over my image—is THAT what you want to hear, magic man? Congratu-fucking-lations. You turned the tables, you can see how pathetic I am and can feel better about yourself. How do ya feel?” The astrolabe had rolled by Asivus’ lap, and gold speckled in his eyes.

Astor sighed and answered honestly. “...Well. I’m envious, truth be told.” Siv blinked, but let him continue. “I haven’t bothered trying to be a hero my whole life, much less have such a driven (and these days useless) hunger to be ‘good.’” The seer shook his head, staring down the hall again. “I’m envious, but I do think you’re a fool. I’d take the opportunity to wield the future in a heartbeat, no matter the consequences.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Siv chuckled. “This malice stuff is fucked up.”

“Only because you don’t understand it.” Astor replied, offended. “I’ve studies it for years, and it’s often misunderstood. There’s a beauty and usefulness to it, even detached from the Calamity. You’re just not intelligent enough to get it, I understand. ‘Love-hate relationship,’ like you said.” He snorted.

“Are you sick?! This Ancient Core thing made me walk through so many shitty memories and thoughts...I wouldn’t walk through that again to end OR save the world.”

“Again. All due to your plight of ignorance. It’s not your fault.”

Asivus rolled his eyes. “You know what? Why don’t you explain it me then?! If you’re so excited about it? Talk aaall about how I’m not fit to properly wield this and how pathetic I am?”

Siv dangled the astrolabe in the air between his fingers.

“Go on! Explain how great this malice is, and maybe then if you’re so eager I’ll just leave the thing in your care!”

[ejzah]

A/N: Part 2 of Indecent Proposal. If you like Talia, this one is for you. Hopefully I did her justice.

***

Indecent Proposal, Part 2

“So what do you think?” Helena asked as they walked back into the mission.

“If her husband was involved in anything illegal, she didn’t know about it,” Deeks responded, heading straight for the bullpen.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Deeks.” He could feel Helena behind him, less than a foot away as he shifted things around on his desk.

He’d honestly been hoping if he ignored her offer, Helena would get the hint that he really wasn’t interested and back off. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

With an internal sigh, he turned around to find her leaning against Sam’s desk with a smirk that he was beginning to find extremely annoying.

“Helena, I don’t have any interest in-” She pushed off the desk and cut him off by pressing her index finger to his lips.

“I do love the sound of your voice, but now it’s my turn to talk,” she murmured, moving closer so there was just a few inches between their bodies. He leaned back as far as he could, pressing up against his desk as Helena followed him. “You know, I have dreamed about doing the most wicked things to you.”

She slid her hands up both his arms, stopping mid-bicep and sighed. Before she could say anything more explicit, Deeks gently yet firmly moved her hands, letting making as little contact as possible.

“We have work to do,” he told her firmly. “I’m going to fill Sam and Callen in on what we learned from Mrs. Werner.”

Thankfully, she didn’t try to stop him and he made his escape, heading towards the gym. Fortunately, she didn’t attempt to follow him.

***

“Deeks, you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Bertram?” Talia asked abruptly one afternoon, stopping him in the middle of the gym with all the subtly that she was known for. It was a week since Helena had hit on Deeks and he’d been avoiding her as much as possible.

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean,” he said, shrugging. Talia snorted and rolled her eyes.

“God, how are you so good at covers when you can’t lie about anything else? Every time Bertram gets anywhere near you, you practically run in the other direction. You’ve even been taking the worst jobs to stay away from her. So spill.”

She planted a hand on her hip, blocking his way. He could get around her if he really wanted to, but he also knew that Talia wouldn’t drop the subject and he’d rather not have the conversation leave this room.

“Fine. If you must know, she kind of, uh, she hit on me. Repeatedly.” He felt his cheeks flush a little at the admission.

“I knew it!” Talia hissed, surprising him.

“What do you mean you knew?”

She waved her hand dismissively and patted his shoulder, the gesture completely condescending.

“Oh please, she’s been eyeing you since the day she got here. You were just too unaware to realize it.”

“I think I should be offended,” Deeks muttered.

“I can’t believe she actually made a move when she knows you’re married,” Talia said. “I mean, that’s worse than me.”

“She made it explicitly clear that she doesn’t care about my current marital status. At all.” Deeks grimaced a little, remembering Helena’s last attempt to seduce him.

“Hm, I bet we could get her booted back to her old team for inappropriate conduct,” Talia mused, rubbing her chin contemplatively.

“Talia, no. I don’t want you to say anything to Sam or Callen,” he insisted. “Promise me that you won’t mention this to them, ok?” Talia regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable, and then sighed.

“Fine. I won’t tell Sam or Callen.” She raised a finger. “But if I hear her making another pass at you, I’m totally sending Kensi after her ass.”

***

“Keep your hands off Deeks,” Talia said bluntly, bracing her hands on either side of Helena’s desk. The other woman looked up slowly, not looking particularly worried.

“Excuse me?”

“Deeks said you hit on him.”

“I don’t think it’s really any of your business if I did,” Helena commented, leaning forward. “If Agent Deeks wants to take me up on my offer, I say that’s his decision.”

“Oh no, I’m the only one who gets to flirt with him and make inappropriate comments,” Talia corrected.

“And what makes you so special?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m his friend, not some temp agent who’s trying to horn in on someone else’s territory.”

“You know what, I think you’re jealous. You spend so much time trying to get his attention and here I am. Younger, hotter, and smarter,” she suggested, tilting her head in a completely obnoxious way that. Talia very narrowly resisted the urge to grab a handful of her thick black hair and slam her into the surface of her borrowed desk.

“Listen, I knew Deeks and Kensi before they were together. I knew they were going to be a couple way before they did.” Leaning forward, Talia dropped her voice to a whisper and felt a touch of satisfaction when Helena’s eyes widened in surprise. “So don’t try to mess this up. Better people before you have tried and failed.”

“Is that a threat?” Helena asked a little hoarsely.

“Nope, it’s a warning. If I see you trying to mess with Deeks, I will come for you,” she said, taking a step back. There was a moment of silence and then Helena squared her jaw, a mutinous look coming into her eyes again.

“It sounds like you don’t trust Deeks to make this decision on his own,” she decided. “Which makes me think that I still have a chance.”

“Oh, he will definitely make the right choice and he’s fully capable of making it on his own. Because he loves wife more than anything. I just don’t think he or Kensi need this added stress on top of getting ready for a baby.” Helena started to say something else, but Talia raised a hand and added, “But I am fully prepared to call Kensi in if necessary. Because not only is Kensi a kick ass woman, but she’s also a kick ass agent.” As Talia added the last part, Helena’s face paled slightly as realization hit.

“Wait, Deeks’ wife is-?”

“Also his partner?” Talia filled in gleefully. “Did we forget to mention that part. Yeah, she’s probably even more terrifying than me, which is saying something. And completely capable of slaying you, even at 38 weeks pregnant. Especially since she’s pretty protective of Deeks right now. So if I were you, I wouldn’t do anything to enrage her.”

“I wasn’t trying to-“

“Break up their marriage? Like you could ever drive a wedge between Kensi and Deeks. She literally carried him through Mexico to save his life. They’re unbreakable.”

Helena swallowed harshly, the confidant, irreverent agent completely gone. In her place was a pale, visibly shaken woman. Talia nodded in satisfaction, accepting her silence as capitulation.

“You won’t say anything to the rest of the team will you?” she asked quietly. Which Talia interpreted to mostly mean Kensi.

“As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I see no reason why you shouldn’t leave this team in one piece six weeks from now,” Talia assured her, offering a dark smile as she left the room.

She passed Deeks in the hall a few minutes later and he frowned as she fell into step beside him.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” he asked suspiciously. “Has Kensi been texting you my baby pictures again?”

“Nope. Let’s just say the Bertram issue has been taken care of.”

“What does that mean?” She just smiled turning in a half circle and offered,

“It means I got your back.” She smacked his butt as she passed and called out, “And your butt!”

[achubbydumpling]

[unfinished] Good Boy Bucky (Part 2)

Ok... So, I set myself this self-imposed challenge of writing/posting something every day in July, mostly for Get Beached. Up until now that's worked out to a few complete ficlets (yay me).

However, muses wax and wane and I've been blessed by Sappho the past few days—everything is fragments.

Posting my writing was just a way to set myself a deadline, but it's great to see some of you want to follow me. Since I'm the Captain of this ship I decide where we go and I set up this really nice calendar to cross off every day I post and I don't want to ruin my streak. So, this unfinished thing is me keeping my streak, because I make the rules!

Once again thank you to @wotvagyok for cheering me on and discussing many great chubby!kink ideas with me.

Rating: Explicit Words: 1850 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Dom/sub, Belly kink, Gainer!Dom Steve, Daddy kink

Read on AO3

(also, I've been reading too many fics by howdoyousleep which is why Steve's suddenly Bucky's daddy.. surprise 🎉) They’d played those games before. Bucky asking Steve to control him, use him, hurt him. After Steve’s transformation he’d begged him to really damage him. Use that supersoldier strength to bite bruises into Bucky’s skin that he’d feel for weeks. That was easy for Bucky. Pushing for more, asking for pain. He didn’t know when those wires had gotten crossed in his head, but as long as he could remember pain and pleasure had been linked in his mind. First time he could remember jerking off, coming with his hand in his mouth. Tooth marks on his skin that lasted all night.

This, however, was something new. Something that had only started when he’d found his way back from the Winter Soldier into his own mind, Bucky’s mind—whatever was left of that. There he’d found this. This squirming, insecure little thing that wanted to be good to Steve, didn’t want to push him, but slide against him. Move when he moved, like they were one instead of two separate halves.

Bucky could feel his legs tingling, slowly starting to go numb on the hard wood floor. Steve was still working his way through the entire pot of food. Bucky smiled when he saw the way his belly was starting to really strain the buttons on his shirt. That had started a bit after Bucky had found Steve again. When he didn’t think about finding Bucky all the time, he’d let himself indulge in the new foods of the 21stcentury.

When those first ten pounds had settled on Steve’s hips, he’d wanted to slim back down immediately—stay at fighting weight. Bucky had sniffed out that little bit of apprehension though. After Steve had really used his weight to throw Bucky around, he’d teased that out of Steve.

He’d admitted it made him feel powerful, even bigger than Bucky, felt that dominating strength even outside their bedroom when he felt his waistband biting into his skin and his belly rounding out against his shirts. When everyone’s eyes first went to that pudge Captain America had put on. He wanted more of that.

Bucky had soothed his mind of being useless for fighting the morning after. Pulling out all stops, using every aspect of the Winter Soldier training. Steve still managed to pin him within a few minutes. That little paunch under his belly button laying heavily into the small of Bucky’s back, having him rut against the mat underneath.

Steve’s voice pulled Bucky out of the memory, “You back with me, Buck? You looked a little lost there” Bucky could feel that warm smile spread on his face, didn’t even have to nod for Steve to understand.

Bucky scooted closer to Steve, resting his head against Steve’s right thigh. Steve must’ve made a good dent in the food. His belly was rounding out almost spherical. Bucky could see his belly button through the undershirt that showed through the widening gaps of the button down. The button of his trousers was slightly obscured by his belly, but by the way Steve dug his finger underneath the waistband every few bites, it must be getting tight.

Bucky finally moved after spending so long in the same position his legs had started falling asleep. The buzzing rush of pins and needles running up and down his thighs made him shiver. Instead of rubbing the sensation from his legs, he moved further up and buried his face against Steve’s belly. His hands came up to frame Steve’s ball gut on either side. Steve groaned with Bucky’s hands finally on his belly.

“Don’t pull the shirt too much. Don’t want help popping the buttons, you understand?” Bucky hummed agreeable and began digging his knuckles into Steve’s belly. He wasn’t quite full enough yet, that Bucky had to be careful with his touch.

He could just enjoy that heavy feeling of Steve’s belly in his hands, the way it pushed out against him. Steve really must’ve indulged every offering at the banquet. However, his supersoldier metabolism was working through the food fast. Would Steve also put on fat four times as fast as the average human?

Bucky didn’t have another moment to contemplate that question. Steve groaned above him, and Bucky eased up on the pressure he was rubbing his gut with. The pot must almost be empty by now.

+++

There’s barely anything left of the curry. Steve has been working steadily on eating everything, but now his pace was slowing down, and his breathing was getting heavier. Bucky continued rubbing large circles over Steve’s gut, concentrating on the stuffed upper belly.

Almost finished. Just one more bite. Just one more. Steve hadn’t asked for Bucky to speak and encourage him, but a constant stream of it flowed through his mind. So proud to see Steve indulging like this. To see him grow. Growing heavier than Bucky by the day. His titanium arm had weighed a full forty pounds, but even the vibranium arm gave him a leg up by about ten pounds. Still, he was nowhere near as heavy as Steve, and he relished in the difference when Steve held him down.

+++

The shirt grew tighter and tighter. The fabric groaning with the strain, loud enough now for even unenhanced humans to hear, but the buttons just wouldn’t budge. High-quality materials kept Steve from ripping through the buttons with his stuffed gut. He gulped for air, there was nothing left to eat, but he needed something more.

“Get me something to drink, Buck.” He jumped up and almost ran to the kitchen, coming to a skidding halt in front of the fridge. Something to drink. Bucky defaulted to a glass of water, but then thought better of it. Steve had left the decision to him. He grabbed two of the beer bottles at the bottom of the fridge and raced back. Steve took both bottles from Bucky’s hands and quickly opened one with the other.

He put the first bottle to his lips and downed it within a few seconds. He slammed the bottle on the side table to his right and heaved a few heavy breaths, just as it seemed like Steve would have to open that second bottle as well. The button on the roundest part of his belly popped off.

His belly sagged forward filling the bit of space. Time seemed suspended in the moment until a chain reaction started popping the rest of the buttons and tearing the fabric where the buttons wouldn’t give in fast enough. Steve’s overstuffed gut surged forward, but not by much, weighing high and tight on his torso. He was heaving shallow breaths trying to work around the spasming muscles in his belly.

+++

“Wanna get those pretty pink lips on me.”

“Got myself all ready, so you can fuck me.” Steve’s expression soured into a frown.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be a good boy for me?” Bucky nodded meekly. “Do good boys talk back when their daddies tell them what to do?”

Bucky’s mind caught on that word—daddy—they’d discussed a few names for the position Steve would be in, in this scenario. However, Bucky had not anticipated the dizzying headrush he’d feel hearing that word out loud. Having Steve say exactly who he was to Bucky.

The feeling shot straight to his dick. His hips involuntarily snapped forward. He let his head fall with the shame that burned on his cheeks.

“Oh,” Steve cooed, “you like hearing me say that?” He shoved another spoonful of curry in his mouth, savouring the taste, only after swallowing the food did he turn his full attention back on Bucky.

“I’m your daddy, Buck. You see how I gotta keep you in check, hm? Just there. You’re always so eager.” Bucky nodded along to Steve’s words. “But when I’m here to guide you, you take such good care of me don’t you?”

Steve clearly expected an answer. Bucky swallowed around the word in his mouth, it felt heavy on his tongue, like a momentous occasion.

“Yes.” He paused and swallowed again. “Daddy.”

Steve pulled Bucky up and up, off his knees and back onto the couch.

“You’re gonna make me come with those pretty pink lips, ok?” Bucky nodded and went straight for Steve’s crotch, eager to please. Once again Steve stopped him. Disappointed frown on his face.

“I try to teach you—” Bucky realised what Steve wanted from him. “Yes, daddy.” Bucky could see Steve’s hand twitch where it was resting on his stuffed belly.

“Don’t interrupt me, boy.” Bucky ducked his head and bit down on his bottom lip.

“I know you’re trying to make this so good for me, but you still have to listen to me, ok?” Bucky sat up straighter and wiggled on Steve’s lap a bit, then tapped his index finger to his ear. Listening.

“Good boy.” Bucky felt that familiar sweet feeling prickle at the back of his neck. He waited for Steve’s next order. Instead, Steve pulled him close by the neck and surprised him with a kiss. He pulled back before Bucky could really get over his surprised reaction.

+++

“Turn around, baby boy. Heard you got yourself all nice and ready for me.”

“What were you thinking about while you worked yourself open like that?”

“Did you come, baby boy?”

“No? Oh, you’re so good, waiting for your daddy to come home and tell you when you’re allowed.”

“Push back a bit for me.”

“Quit your whining that’s not gonna make me give you my cock any faster.”/”Oh, be a good boy and stay quiet, won’t you?”

“Yes, look at you. If I pulled at that little gemstone, you’d be all nice and wet for me. Do you think you should ride my cock right now?”

“Whatever you want, daddy.”

“Good boy. That’s right. I get to decide what you need. Can you sit back for me?”

“Yes, look at that. So obedient.”

“Why don’t you fuck yourself on it? You think you can come on this little thing when you’re used to daddy’s cock?”

“That was a question.”

“Whatever you want, daddy.”

“That’s right, good boy. You come when I tell you to, don’t you? Look at you rutting away on this little toy and leaking all over yourself. Think I can add a finger next to the toy? Oh, look at you taking it so well. Does that remind you of daddy’s thick cock?”

“Keep it up, baby boy. Want you to come just on that toy. ‘m gonna jerk you off to help you a bit, but when you get close you gotta tell me, ok?”

“Already? Ok.”

“I know, I know. Just a bit now. Lean back.”

“C’mon, my fingers not enough?”

“Oh, you need permission, baby boy, is that it?”

“Such a good boy waiting for that.”

“Come for me.”

“Oh, you were so good for me. You gonna be ok leaving that plug in for a bit? Yeah, you’re tired I know. Taking care of your daddy and having your pussy fucked takes a lot out of you. Let’s get you to bed.”

[electrictoes]

Closer Than We Are

For @dailysvu's Amanda Rollins Week

Day 4:  Cuddling Characters: Amanda Rollins, Sonny Carisi, Jesse Rollins. Guest Appearances: Olivia Benson, Kat Tamin, Billie Rollins, Noah Porter Benson Relationship: Amanda Rollins / Sonny Carisi Warnings: None

Read on AO3

The first time that Amanda found herself cuddled up with Sonny it was almost 4am, and they were both exhausted.

Jesse had been teething and Amanda had barely slept all week, so when Sonny had offered to come over and cook dinner she’d gratefully accepted - just the thought of someone else being in the apartment with her was enough, the fact that he was also going to provide food that didn’t come from a packet was an added bonus.

They’d had a few late nights at work that week - Sonny and Fin had born the brunt, covering for Amanda so that she could spend time with Jesse, however little rest that actually gave her - so he was tired too, but when Jesse had started screaming after dinner Sonny had told Amanda to stay where she was sitting half asleep on the couch.

She watched bleary eyed as he brought Jesse out of her bedroom and into the living room, her screams subsiding briefly as she mouthed at the knuckle of his index finger; he was holding Jesse against his chest with his left hand while she chewed on his right and Amanda watched as he paced the room with her, trying to keep her calm and soothe her back to sleep. Amanda was grateful for his help; she was doing better than she herself would've predicted at this mom thing, but having another pair of hands never hurt. Jesse eventually settled against him and he carefully carried her back to her crib before joining Amanda on the couch.

They talked a little, but mostly they sat in a companionable silence, watching sitcom reruns from opposite ends of the couch. Jesse was back up an hour later, and when Amanda eventually settled her again and came back to the living room Sonny’s eyes were closed; his head tilted back against the couch cushions. “Carisi, you don’t have to stay.”

“Nah,” he said, opening his eyes again, “It’s fine, I think you’re in for a rough night, I wanna help.”

Amanda sighed, “You don’t have to.”

“She’s my goddaughter,” he said, as though spending his Friday night listening to Jesse’s cries was part of the job description.

Amanda didn’t know how many times they had been up and down with Jesse by the time the clock ticked over to 2am, but she had begun to move past exhaustion. Sonny was back to pacing the room, Jesse drooling over his shoulder as she cried, Sonny rubbing gentle circles on her back, singing off-key lullabies. “Rollins, I’ve got her - go to bed.”

“I’m fine,” Amanda protested; he shook his head but he didn’t argue.

When Jesse drifted off against his chest, he carefully sat down on the couch again, his hand on the back of her little head as she slept fitfully; Amanda watched Jesse move with the rise and fall of his chest, and she reached out to stroke Jesse’s cheek, to rest her fingertips on her daughter’s back.

The next thing she knew, Jesse was wailing again; Amanda blinked open her eyes and found her arms had wound around Sonny as well as Jesse; he was awake too - no one in a five block radius was sleeping through Jesse’s howls - but he didn’t pull away from her; he just smiled a tired smile over the top of Jesse’s head. Amanda didn’t move away either; she didn’t have the energy.

Sonny gently shushed Jesse, whispering to her; he lifted her carefully, moving her so that she was facing Amanda, and they sat there in the dim light of the TV, Amanda’s eyes on her baby girl, one arm still slung along Sonny’s torso, her head resting on his shoulder as Jesse reached out, touching a tiny hand to Amanda’s face, her whimpers dying down as exhaustion took her again.

Dinner and bad TV had kind of become a weekly tradition - sometimes Sonny would cook for them, and some nights, when they were both worn down by a difficult week at work, they would order pizza and the three of would them flop down onto the couch, Jesse between Amanda and Sonny, and they would watch cartoons or kids' movies until Jesse dropped off, her head leaning against her godfather’s side, her feet digging into Amanda’s legs.

One of them - usually Sonny - would scoop Jesse up eventually and tuck her into bed with a kiss goodnight. The TV volume would get turned down a little lower, the cartoons switched over, and they’d watch something - anything - that they didn’t have to care about.

It was comfortable, that time with Sonny - the groove they’d gotten into over the past couple of years. Jesse had spent her whole life having weekly dinners with Uncle Sonny, and Amanda had found a friend she would never have predicted when he walked into the squad room three years ago. They laughed together - a lot - and he never judged her about the big stuff (the small stuff, sure, how many times had he bemoaned her lack of decent cookware?); she didn’t feel like she had to stand on ceremony with him; he didn’t complain about the dishes in the sink, the laundry hanging up about the place - and he told her things about himself, normal, everyday things, and she found herself opening up to him too. Not about everything, but she shared things about her past, about her family, that she had always held back from other people.

Tonight, they were tired, and if her head dropped onto his shoulder while they were talking, it didn’t mean anything more than that. He’d put a documentary on and she wasn’t even too sure what it was about - so she closed her eyes for just a second, or at least she had meant for it to be just a second.

When she woke up her head was still on his shoulder, and her arm was across his chest; he was leaning into her too, one of his hands resting just above her hip, and she was so comfortable, she felt so safe, that she just closed her eyes again, sinking back into sleep without thinking about it too much.

When they woke again hours later, still intertwined, they shared a brief, slightly awkward smile as they pulled apart. Amanda wasn’t about it admit it, but she felt better rested than she had in a long time.

Sonny wasn’t at his desk when Amanda got to work, and he was usually there before her unless they made plans to meet for coffee or breakfast beforehand. She hadn’t seen him the night before, didn’t know what his plans had been, but for some reason his absence bothered her. She sat down at her desk and kept an eye on the door waiting for him to come in - an hour passed and there was still no sign of him, so she sent him a text - just a quick “you ok?” - she glanced at her phone periodically but the message status never changed to Read. The morning was quiet - both Liv and Fin were meeting with Stone for trial prep first thing, and Amanda was working her way through a backlog of reports in between checking her phone.

Two hours after she got to work, around two hours and ten minutes after Sonny would usually have put in an appearance, Liv walked in and approached Amanda’s desk. “Carisi’s out sick today,” she said, “Can you meet Fin at Mercy? We’ve just had a call.”

Amanda frowned. “Sick? Carisi? He’s like fifty percent hand sanitiser.”

“Yeah, I think it’s the flu, he didn't sound great on the phone.”

For the rest of the day Amanda’s mind was on Sonny; she’d sent a couple more texts but he hadn’t even read them, and it was so rare for him to get sick - she wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she was worried. When she got out of work she text her nanny to say she needed to make a stop on her way home, and she drove over to Sonny’s apartment with cold medicine and Gatorade.

When Amanda knocked on Sonny’s apartment door there was no answer; she called his phone but she could hear it ringing unanswered inside the apartment, which only served to increase her worry. Eventually she pulled out her keys, scrambling to find the key he'd given her for emergencies; she knocked twice more before opening the door, calling out his name as she entered the apartment.

She didn’t visit his apartment often; could count the number of times she’d been here on one hand, in fact - she wasn’t exactly comfortable in this space like he was in hers, and she felt like an intruder as she walked down the hallway, still calling out to him. When she reached his living room she saw him. He was lying on the couch, his feet hanging off the end in a way that would be comical if he didn’t look so utterly wrecked; his eyes were glazed over, his breathing unsteady, and it took him a second to notice her.

“Rollins?” he said when he spotted her - his voice coming out croaky and weak. “Why are you…”

“I was worried,” she told him, crossing the room and putting the back of her hand to his forehead - he was burning up. “You weren’t answering my messages.”

“M’fine,” he mumbled, “Just restin’.”

“I don’t think you are fine, Dominick,” she brushed his hair back from his forehead and he let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

“S’nice,” he said, leaning into her touch.

“Where’s your thermometer?” she asked, “I know you’ve got one.”

“Somewhere,” he says unhelpfully. She moved away and he sighed, lifting a hand to reach out to her, “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Amanda still felt like she was intruding as she went into the bathroom, opening his medicine cabinet and making a point of not looking too closely at the contents - she found a thermometer easily enough and headed back out to the living room. She’d been gone barely two minutes, but he smiled like it had been a decade since he last saw her.

His temperature was 103, and she told him so. He frowned. “No, m’cold,” he said, disbelief in his tone.

“I’m sure,” Amanda said soothingly. It took several attempts to coax him into sitting up, and to find out that he hadn’t taken any medication yet, and another five minutes to persuade him to swallow the cold medicine.

She sat beside him on the couch, slotting in to the space he left when he sat up, taking a sip from the bottle of Gatorade she’d handed him. He dropped back against her a moment later, leaning into her, barely able to support his own weight. She swept her hand through his hair again as his head lolled on her shoulder.

“You should go,” he murmured into her neck.

“I’m staying until the medicine kicks in,” Amanda told him him, her fingers still in his hair.

“But the girls-”

“They’re fine,”she assured him, “they’re with the sitter.”

“I’ll get you sick,” he said; he sounded so miserable there was no way she’d leave him alone right now.

“So then you can return the favour,” she countered, and he gave in, letting his eyes drop closed, one arm coming to rest across her stomach as he drifted off to sleep.

It was a choice to curl up next to him on New Year’s Eve - there was still a lot that had been left unsaid between them, and this was one of those things - that closeness; just a little too intimate to be platonic, but skirting the edges of admitting anything further. She had a blanket draped over herself, and he had one arm on the back of the couch; she fit perfectly into the crook of his arm, her hands pillowed between her head and his chest. The TV was on, but they weren’t paying too much attention to it; she was content resting against him as she listened to the stories of his Christmas celebrations with his family; he already knew how her Christmas was, had heard it all in great detail from Jesse when he had face-timed them the day after Christmas; the noise and clamour of the Carisi family in the background, but his attention solely on the Rollins girls.

They were comfortable together, her and Sonny. They had been for a while. It wasn’t something Amanda had ever had before - not like this, and they were on the precipice, resting between friendship and something more, but she embraced moments like this, where they could be in their own bubble - whatever happened between them in the future, she wanted to keep having moments like this. That had been what she was thinking about when she’d drifted off, midnight still hours away.

If the Amber alert hadn’t woken her, things might have ended a little differently, but there was no awkwardness when she did wake up burrowed into him. She moved only enough to reach her phone, reading the alert, sitting up only when she knew she’d have to go into work - to leave the warm comfort they’d found here and go out into the real world.

He looked as disappointed as she felt - and she wanted to drop back down against him, ignore the darkness of the world they lived in - but that wasn’t an option, and she knew there would be other nights like this, other nights they would fall asleep together, still not quite giving in to whatever kept compelling them back to this spot, this thin line they were living on.

Now, when they’re cuddled up together on the couch, Amanda never needs to pretend it’s anything different - it’s not because they’re tired, and it isn’t because one of them is sick, and she doesn’t have to analyse every movement of his body against hers - this is just who they are now, this is just what they do.

It’s movie night again - but not just the two of them - Amanda’s calling it ‘family night’, after weeks of late shifts and early starts, no one getting to spend much time with their children or the people they loved - Fin had declined the invitation, told them he’d had a better offer - but Liv and Kat are here. Jesse, Noah and Billie are on the floor in front of the TV; Sonny had set them up with cushions and snacks and with the amount of sugar they’ve already consumed Amanda’s sure they’re going to crash halfway through the movie.

Amanda glances over at Liv and Kat as she slips into the space Sonny has made for her on the couch, his arm coming around her as soon as she’s settled. Liv smiles in their direction, but says nothing. Kat raises an eyebrow - but it’s playful; she’s happy for them too, Amanda knows.

She can rest her head on Sonny’s chest these days, smile to herself as he presses a kiss into her hair; she can wind her arms across him freely. She’s always felt safe like this - been able to fall asleep knowing he’s right there with her - but now she can admit things she’s held back - now she can admit that she doesn’t just feel safe in his arms; it feels like coming home - whether it’s on a couch surrounded by their makeshift family, or it’s in their bed in the early hours of the morning, or his arm around her shoulder while the girls play on the swings - it’s somewhere she always wants to be.

[lu-undy]

A Sniper/Medic Short

I took part in a Secret Santa and my giftee wanted a Sniper/Medic short with cuddles in front of a fire or exchanging gifts. I did both :) Here it is!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28489524

"Gosh, it's freezing." 

Sniper woke up in his van on that cold morning of late December. He rubbed his eyes and pressed a switch to turn on the heating in his campervan. Engineer had been kind enough to fix him a button next to his bed that connected with the electric radiator. So the Aussie stayed in bed for an extra half an hour to wait for the van to warm up to an acceptable level. He could afford the wait as that day was off for both teams. 

In fact, the mercenaries enjoyed two weeks off at the end of the year's holidays.

Sniper looked at the time and took a deep breath. 

"Right, should probably get up now." 

And he followed his morning routine. He put some clothes on with warm socks and a season coat. It was thick and lined with synthetic yet warm fur around the hood. He put on a scarf and gloves. When the Aussie finished slipping in his boots, he opened the van's back door and the ice cold air bit his very skin. 

Everything was covered in a thick layer of white snow and as he jumped down to the ground, he landed in a muffled thud and sunk to the middle of his legs in snow. He hissed and winced. The kangaroo wasn't much of a fan of the feeling of cold wetness on his legs in the morning, or at any other time of the day either.

He locked up his van's backdoor and walked back to the base's main building. He entered and shut the door before feeling the drastic change of temperature. 

"Crikey, it's hot in here…" 

Sniper pulled back his hood, removed his coat and unrolled the scarf around his face. He placed all his clothing items on the coathanger there and proceeded to the kitchen for breakfast, where he found most of his colleagues, as usual. 

"Mornin' Sniper." Engie waved. 

"G'day." 

The rest of the team present in the kitchen nodded to the Aussie who went straight to get a warm mug of coffee. As he reached the coffee pot, he stuck his frozen hands on it and let it sizzle his skin nicely. 

"Here, your coffee." 

The white mug marked '#1 Sniper' slid on the counter to him and when he raised his head, he saw a lab coat float away, back to the table. He smiled. 

He took the mug and resumed his usual seat around the table to partake in the usual morning debates. Well, partake was a big word, maybe just listen in and nod from time to time. He liked his colleagues' banter. It had taken some time for his head to stop hurting at it, but now he was fully used to it and he even appreciated it. He listened to it like the radio and watched it like TV. He would sometimes add his grain of salt to the conversation but he much preferred to listen and watch. 

"Hey, fancypants! Not wearin' a suit today? What is it, Christmas?" 

Spy entered wearing a knitted jumper that went up his neck, to the color of the team and a dark, matching pair of trousers.

"Very observant." He answered and went to the coffee pot to help himself. 

"Funny, eh, my Ma' knitted me the same kind of sweater!"

"Funny indeed." The Frenchman answered and the rest of the team sighed gently. 

"Any plans for today, guys?" The Bostonian asked.

"Today is a great day. You will all respect and celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ!" Soldier exclaimed. "And if I catch one of you numbnuts not partaking in the festivities, it will be extra physical training and scrubbing duties!" He raised an authoritative index finger. 

"Calm down, laddie, what about a snowball fight? The snow's nice and fresh." Demoman suggested. 

"Yes, Sir!" 

"Right! Can me and Pyro join you guys?" Scout asked. 

"Of course, lads! The more, the merrier!"

"Heavy, you wanna join us?" Scout turned to his impressively built colleague. 

"Nyet."

"Come on, Stalingrad! Let me give you a Second Cold War!"

"Aye, c'mon, Heavy, what are you gonna do inside, eh? It's Christmas and there's snow!"

Heavy rolled his eyes and smiled behind his crossed arms. 

"Fine." He yielded and the mercenaries rejoiced. 

"What about the support club?" Scout turned to Medic, Spy and Sniper. 

The Frenchman was reading a newspaper while Medic and Sniper looked briefly at each other. 

"Spy, d'you wanna-"

"Non."

"C'mon, Spy-"

"Non."

"But-?"

"Non." 

"Why?" 

The old French man sighed. 

"I am busy."

"What will you be doin'?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"C'mon, what could be better than a snow fight? Join us!"

Spy sighed from his side of the newspaper. 

"A phone call with your mother would be incomparably better than a snowball fight."

The mercenaries tensed around the table and their eyes all shifted to Scout. 

"Yeah, well, you're not gonna get it anyway so c'mon!" 

They facepalmed and rolled their eyes. Scout was remarkably oblivious. 

Little by little, the mercenaries left the table. Sniper's eyes rose from his final bit of toast when the flapping of the white lab coat caught his attention. Medic was leaving the table. The Aussie finished his breakfast but stayed a bit longer in the kitchen. He helped for the dishes, as he owed it to Engie.

"Wanna help me prepare lunch, Sniper?" 

"Sure." 

"If you'd rather go with the others in the snow, that's fine by me, eh." 

"Nah, it's fine. I'll give you a hand."

At the other end of the building, Medic was filling some paperwork that he had been putting off for too long.

There was a knock at the door. 

"Ja?" 

"Uh, it's me, Doc'."

There was the noise of a chair moving and footsteps before the door opened. 

"Hey there."

"Hallo, Sniper."

"Mind if I join?" 

"Please." 

Medic shut the door after his guest. 

"What brings you here?" 

"Van's freezing." 

"Ah, so you're just here for the radiator?"

Sniper chuckled. 

"Yeah, nah…"

"I was about to stop and take a break. Shall we go to my living room? I will make some coffee."

"Sure." 

Both mercenaries went through a corridor and Medic opened the door in the end. Medic, like Spy, had his own suite, which consisted of a living-room, a kitchen, bathroom and his bedroom. They were all a few doors away from his workplace.

"After you."

"Thanks, mate." 

"Make yourself at home, I will set the coffee."

"Right." 

Sniper entered and removed his old boots right at the door. The floor was carpeted and he didn't want to give his friend some extra work cleaning it. He slipped his coat off and hung it on the coat-hanger before proceeding to the sofa. He sat down and made himself comfortable as he heard his German friend busy in the kitchen. 

"Hm." 

Sniper soon got off the couch and went to the kitchen door. He gave it a few short knocks. 

"Need some help with anythin'?" 

Medic turned to him, who was peeking from the door. Sniper's eyes fell on the tray that the medical expert was preparing. 

"No, I should be fine, danke, Sniper."

"You sure?"

"Ja, go get yourself warmed up in front of the fire. I will be just an extra minute." 

"Alright, gimme a shout if you need me, ok?"

Medic smiled.

"Will do." 

The Aussie turned and went back to the sofa. In front of it was a coffee table and a fireplace against the wall. It was lit up and Sniper could feel its heat diffuse to the sofa, slowly. 

"Here, coffee and some cookies." 

Medic brought the tray and sat down next to Sniper. 

"Cookies?" 

"Ja, Pyro baked them for me the other day after I fixed his arm."

Sniper stared at the star and heart-shaped cookies with multicolored sprinkles. 

"Guessed as much."

"Did you?" Medic asked, handing Sniper his mug. 

"You don't come across as the heart shaped cookie bakin' type…" Sniper leaned his arm on the back of the sofa.

"Very perceptive you are." Medic leaned his head on the Aussie's shoulder and they chuckled. 

"Should take a break like the others, y'know, ease out on the work."

"Experiments don't carry themselves out unfortunately." 

"Guess so. But what if I ask you to take a break?"

"Why?"

Sniper put his now empty mug away and looked down at Medic. He held his chin between his index and thumb. 

"Cause I wanna spend time with you, darl'." He tilted the German's face upwards and stared into his eyes, through the thin pair of glasses. Sniper smiled. "Please." 

Medic's eyebrows rose up and he grinned back. He removed his gloves and threw them away on the sofa before wrapping an arm around Sniper. 

"Hard for me to refuse when you plead me with such beautiful eyes." 

"You got some pretty eyes too, eh." 

"Flatterer." 

"Nah, just sayin' what I'm thinking."

"Mmh." Medic buried his head under Sniper's jaw, on his chest and he felt his arms wrap around him. 

"Missed you, luv'."

"So did I." 

They stared at the dancing flames of the fireplace and their breaths synced slowly, Medic's head was rising and falling to the rhythm of Sniper's calm breathing. 

"Oh…?" Medic's surprise escaped his lips as he felt Sniper's fingers slide between his. 

"I wanna spend a bit more time with you, y'know. Sometimes, I don't go to your office not because I care about what people would say or because I don't want to. It's cause I don't wanna bother you but…"

"But?" Medic asked. 

"But I miss you, I really do…" Sniper tightened his hug and clenched his fingers between the German's. "I wish we could spend a full day together and…"

"I thought you were wary of the others learning for us?"

"I'm sure Spy knows, the rest will, one day or another. Besides, I just wanna spend the winter break with you." 

Medic raised his head to his lover. 

"Me too, Sniper…" 

Their lips met in the quiet and dark room, the warmth from the fireplace hardly rivaling with the hot touch of their hands brushing past their clothes. 

"Please…" Sniper asked, sliding a hand behind Medic's head, through his hair. "Please stay with me tonight." 

Medic bit his lip. His hands slid on Sniper's collar and up to his rough, scruffy cheeks. 

"I will."

Sniper's delight came out of him in a silent gasp and a wide smile. He pulled Medic's face again to kiss him, for longer this time and they dived on the sofa, the German on top of the Aussie, ruffling his brown, short hair as their lips brushed, nipped and pulled. 

"Give me more than one night… Wake up next to me, please…"

Sniper curled a leg behind the white lab-coat and pulled the man below it flush against him. Their kisses went more heated and their lips were wet and slightly swollen from all the attention there. 

"I will." 

Medic removed his lab-coat and threw it away. Sniper pulled the blanket that was hanging on the back of the sofa and covered them both. The German just lied on top of the man that kept him safe after a long day of work. Sniper understood him, wordlessly. He knew when to ask for attention and when Medic didn't have the strength for it. 

That day, all the German wanted was affection. Affection and strong arms to hold him. He lay on Sniper, his head on the Aussie's chest and he felt long fingers play with his black, short hair. 

"Thanks, luv'. I know I might be askin' a lot from you but… You have no idea how good it feels to wake up with you instead of just, y'know, a big empty bed…"

"I do apologise, Sniper. I should spend more time with you."

"It's alright. I understand, you like your work, it's fine."

"Yes but…" Medic raised his head to look Sniper in the eyes. He smiled. "I love you and I would much rather spend my evening with you than with paperwork. You are right, my love."

"About what?" 

"Let's make this winter break all about us."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean that you can bring a bit more clothes here and stay with me for a couple of weeks…?"

"Seriously?" 

"Ja, I can spend my days and my nights with you."

Sniper's face radiated with a wide smile. 

"You'd do that? Really?" 

"Ja, we all deserve a break and I could do with a bit more affection from you." 

"Well I got loads of it for you, eh." Sniper's hands brushed Medic's back slowly under the blanket. 

"Perfect…"

"Uh… Would you…?"

"Would I what?" 

"Would you… have some… for me, maybe?" Sniper blushed and his eyes darted left and right in embarrassment. He wasn't so good when it came to words but had an incredible intuition when it came to moves...

"Of course." Medic pushed his lips on Sniper's and let his tongue brush past the hunter's chapped lips, which pulled a low growl from the wild man.

"Gosh… I'm so happy, I… Thanks, really." 

"You are welcome, Sniper." 

They snuggled up under the blanket and in front of the fireplace, they both warmed up nicely. 

"I got you somethin' for Christmas."

Medic's eyes snapped wide. 

"Did you?" 

"Yeah."

"Why? I mean… I didn't."

"Yeah, you did." 

"What?" Medic asked.

"You're spending a couple of weeks with me. That's… Better than Christmas…!"

"Saying things like that makes me realise even more how much I neglected you…"

Medic raised his head with his now ruffled hair and they exchanged a kiss.

"So please, show me what you got us…?" Medic asked.

"Want it now?"

"Ja, why not?"

"I guess I can… I've been carryin' them on me all the time for you not to find them by accident or anythin'."

"Oh…" 

Sniper slid a hand in his pocket and retrieved his secret gift. 

"Alright, you're ready?" He asked, putting his still clenched fist in front of Medic's face. 

"Ja." 

Sniper opened his hand and two bracelets lay in his palms. 

"Oh… They look lovely…" 

"I made them m'self." 

"The wooden pearls you carved yourself?"

"Yeah." 

"Oh, and what is this pendant?"

"Look at it. Carved it myself too. I had to go and get a book from the Teufort library to do it, cause I didn't really know what it looked like."

Medic held one of the bracelets. 

"It looks like an anatomically correct heart with an arrow piercing through it, but that's only the left half of it…" 

"Look at the other bracelet, luv'."

Medic took the other one and looked at the pendant. 

"Oh mein Gott… That's the right half…!"

"Yeah, I carved a little wooden heart, lookin' at an anatomy book, then carved the arrow, then cut it in halves. You get one and I get the other. Looks less ridiculous than a classic heart and it makes sense."

"Ja! And I guess the heart represents me and the arrow, you?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"I am… Speechless… It must have taken you hours to make them…"

"Who cares? It was fun and it made me think about you for hours. C'mon, wear it and show me!"

Medic slid one around his wrist and put one around Sniper's. 

"I feel like a little boy again…" The German doctor chuckled. 

"Yeah, bit childish maybe but uh…"

"Nein, please, I didn't mean it in a bad way, on the contrary. I guess this is the true spirit of Christmas." 

"Yeah, sort of." Sniper slid his fingers through Medic. 

"I love you, Sniper. Thank you so much for your gift."

"You're welcome. Love ya too, oh, mmh…" 

Medic slid up on Sniper to take his lips again. The flames of the fireplace danced as their bodies followed another choreography. The doctor and the hunter took their time that night. Maybe it was Christmas, maybe it was the gift, or maybe they had yearned for each other that much. 

That year, they did spend a Merry Christmas indeed.

[supernatural---imagines]

Never Have I Ever (Sam Imagine)

Can’t find the request anymore.. but basically you and Sam get drunk and he confesses his feelings! 

It was a boring Monday night for you and the Winchesters. Not much was happening out in the world of monsters, which meant a rare stress-free night. You were sat around drinking beer talking non-sense to each other trying to pass the time. After a few laughs and stories from everyone, the beers were out and the tequila was in.

“Drinking game anyone?” Dean said while returning to the room with three shot glasses. Sam begrudgingly agreed, you laughed at the younger Winchester rolling his eyes while snatching his shot glass, and happily took yours from Dean. You all set them on the table in front of you and Dean filled them. 

“Never have I ever?” You asked the boys. This was your favourite game to play with them as they always ended up letting out some embarrassing secret that you could poke fun at the next day. The groaned in unison but agreed nonetheless.

“Never have I ever...slept with someone I shouldn’t have” You skipped the easing in and went straight for the sexual ones, they were always the most entertaining. 

Sam and Dean both drank. 

“Some waitress in Ohio.. man when I woke up next to her, I swore off jager for the rest of my life.” Dean confessed. Following some laughs you and Dean both looked at Sam for his story. 

“I mean, a few, but the one the comes to mind is Ruby” He confessed shyly while pouring himself another shot. That one was a sensitive subject, he must already have been pretty tipsy to be willing to talk about her. 

Hearing Sam talk about sex made you uneasy, the thought of him with another woman always got to you due to your pathetic school girl crush you had been harbouring for years. You managed to repress it most of the time but when alcohol was involved either the feelings grew stronger, or it became harder to hide. Maybe both. 

“Never have I ever had sex in the Impala” Sam had his turn. You all drank. 

“What the hell?!?” Dean shouted. You and Sam burst into fits of laughter at Dean’s reaction. 

“Y/n, seriously? Disgusting” Dean scolded. You shrugged your shoulders and laughed some more while pushing your shot glass towards Sam to fill it up.

“Ok, my go. Never have I ever wanted to sleep with another hunter?” Dean asked the group. 

You laughed before taking your shot without hesitation whilst looking at Sam, which Dean happened to notice and chuckled to himself. He always had his suspicions about your crush on his brother, but you never totally confessed anything. Did he just ask this question to get you to confess as payback for having sex in the impala?

Sam took his shot too and then returned his gaze to the ground not eager to share a story. Dean drank his shot as well. 

“When I was about 15 and Dad took me on a hunt up in Canada, there was this gorgeous 20 year old hunter. Stunning. Thought she was the love of my life.” Dean reminisced . 

“What happened?” You asked. 

“Nothing. she was 20 and I was 15, and she had a boyfriend. I had hairy palms that trip, I’ll tell you that.” He laughed. You and Sam both gagged. 

“Who is yours?” Dean asked. You quickly looked up at Sam but when you realised he was looking back at you, you looked away and he did the same. 

“I’m not saying..” 

“Come on!” Dean pushed. You started to get a bit annoyed. Although this game was your idea, this question was a bit too close to home and you were feeling frustrated and embarrassed with Dean’s persistence in trying to get you to confess. You told him once more you’re not saying who.

“Just spit it out!” He exclaimed. 

“NO” You stormed off away from the situation, down the halls to your bedroom. You knew you were overreacting but the thought of telling Sam the truth made you feel anxious and sick. You had convinced yourself he wouldn’t ever feel the same so what was the point in confessing and making your relationship with the Winchesters so awkward? 

You lay down on your bed cringing from the whole situation. Around 30 minutes had passed when you had a knock on the door. 

“It’s Sam” he announced. You stood up and dragged yourself over to the door, trying to think of some sort of excuse of why you acted the way you did over a game as silly as never have I ever. You opened the door and saw the drunken hunter stood in your doorway nursing a beer.

“Hey!” Sam said excitedly, his face lighting up when he seen you. You widened the door to let him in and he stumbled his way to the bed, giggling when he landed. He patted the space beside him to invite you to sit and you obeyed, with a smile on your face laughing at how drunk he had got in such a short space of time. 

“So who do you want to sleep with? Is it my brother? Is that why you reacted that way?” Sam questioned you, while taking a swig of his beer. 

“No it is most definitely not your brother. But I think he knows who it is and he was just trying to embarrass me.” 

“What a jerk.” Sam scoffed, but even in his drunken state he respectfully dropped the topic and sat in silence for a moment nursing his beer.

“Wanna know who mine was?” He asked. You certainly did not. Hearing about what hunter Sam wanted to hook up with was something you were not interested in listening to, especially when it’s most likely so obtainable to him because every female hunter in the country has a crush on him.

“Sure” You braced your self for the reply, ready to feel the ache in your gut while he fantasised about another woman. He leaned in slightly to you and raised his index finger.

“You” He whispered while booping your nose, then relaxed back again as if it were nothing. Your jaw dropped, he was into you? 

“Me? I had no idea..” You whispered in shock.

“Well its pretty obvious Y/n!” He yelled playfully. You looked at him to explain further. 

“Um I always make sure to stitch you when you’re hurt and care for you, I watch your crappy TV shows, I spend sooo much time with you,  I am almost always looking at you, you’re so pretty..” He started to rhyme off all these reasons to you and as you watched him list them in his sing-song tone whilst swinging his beer there was only one thing you wanted to do.

“I let you ride shotgun sometimes even though Dean hates it because you’re bad at directions and my legs get squashed in the ba-” You stopped him by planting your lips on his, repressing the smile that was threatening to come out from hearing the last comment from him. He reciprocated the kiss instantly. 

His drunken sloppy kisses that tasted like beer weren’t exactly how you imagined your first kiss, but the passion and fire that you felt in your stomach and your heart was undeniable. He pulled back from you for a second and set his bottle down, he looked into your eyes with a huge smile and you pounced on him, both of you laughing as he fell backwards on to the bed with you tumbling down on top. 

The next morning you woke up with a shirtless Sam laid next to you. You admired his perfectly sculpted body, decorated with scars and his anti-possession tattoo. You were still in shock of how you managed to be so lucky to wake up to this sight which you had been fantasising about for years. But you had to snap yourself out of the daze and go apologise to the one person who made this all happen. 

“Dean?” You called through the bunker halls. 

You found him in the kitchen stuffing bacon into himself. When he saw you he grinned grossly with the meat between his teeth.

“Hey you seen Sammy? He wandered off drunk after a lot more shots last night and he’s not in his room.” 

“Yeah that’s what I came to talk about.” You leaned against the door frame whilst wrapping Sam’s shirt across your body and folding your arms.

“Is that my brother’s shirt?” Dean asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah.. So Sam spent the night in my room last night.” You confessed shyly.

 “Hah! Y/n you dog.” Dean laughed. 

“Alright calm down. I just wanted to apologise for reacting so bad when you brought up the ‘hunter you wanna fuck’ thing.. obviously it was a sensitive subject to me and hit too close to home” 

“Hey don’t worry I knew what I was doing” Dean winked. 

You smiled and shook your head at Dean and left the room, headed back to your bed room. Sam was awake and sitting up slightly in the bed. 

“Hey” you whispered, crawling back in beside him and cuddling up close.

“Can you remember last night?” You asked, he was pretty drunk after all. 

“Bits and pieces.” 

“Here let me remind you” you spoke while throwing the covers off Sam and kissing his toned body all the way down to his boxers.

[kirishwima]

soulmate au 30 for Jumin x mc and yoosung x mc? pretty please?

30. Every so often you will get flashes of what your soulmate is seeing at the time, however your soulmate does not know when it happens. ok listen, i get how cute and/or heartbreaking this can be but like,,,,imagine the funny potential djdjksaljd

JUMIN:

* His first flash came unexpectedly-he was at school, another boring class dragging on and on, the view of Jihyun’s messy mint hair more interesting than whatever historical fact the teacher was rambling on about, when his eyes blinked, and suddenly the scenery changed, odd and unfamiliar, his heart stammering in his chest at the sight

* He was still seated, still a desk in front of him-but gone was the pricey mahogany of his private school’s classroom, instead a different, white-painted desk beneath his hands-his black pencilcase replaced with a white one, a cat-face key-chain dangling from its zipper, fingers-were they his own? No, they were far too different, but they were fumbling with the cat ears, flicking one between their thumb and index finger-

* He heard a voice calling out, an unfamiliar voice, an even more unfamiliar name-but before he could even begin to comprehend what was happening the scenery was gone, replaced with the view of his very furstrated teacher standing over his own, normal desk, Jihyun’s worried gaze turned to him with furrowed brows.

* Without bothering to give anyone an explanation, Jumin simply excused himself, leaving class early. 

* He didn’t speak of it to anyone until it happened again and again-as he caught more and more glimpses of this persons’ life, how he’d see their hands, fumbling with their phone in bed, looking up one thing after another online, or he’d see them in an alleway, see their knees as they bent down to coo at a nearby stray cat.

* The only person he eventually confided in was Jihyun-he told him his genuine concern, how he was afraid he was going mad, how else could he explain it all?

* Jihyun merely shook his head, a small smile on his lips-Jumin couldn’t be sure, but something about that smile didn’t feel right, as if it didn’t belong on his friend’s face. 

* “You’re one of the lucky ones Jumin. That’s your soulmate.”

* Jumin...didn’t know what to do with that information. So he very simply didn’t do anything. What use were these glimpses into a strangers life to him? And what use was it to them, to see glimpses of his own life?

* He became more self conscious, worried everytime he’d be caught doing something wrong, something inapprorpiate-he’d keep his interaction with his father and the random women that came home with him to a minimum, worried his soulmate would see-but why was he worried? Why should he care if they saw or not?

* Yet he carried on this way for years-he’d smile everytime he saw anything cat-related, remembering the flashes of his soulmate’s life, their love for cats; they’d recently adopted a black cat, a curious little thing that spent most of its time on their lap, their hands scratching behind its ears, or perched atop their shoulder like a parrot, as they’d turn their head to face it, the cat happily chirping at them in return.

* That’s the very first thought he had when Rika had presented him Elizabeth the 3d. Had his soulmate seen her? Had they gotten the same rush of excitement he did as she blinked up at him, as she used his lap as a pillow?

* He wondered what it’d be like if their two cats met, a black and white mess in a shared home, tails intertwined as they sat together, hand in hand, watching them-

* Shaking his head, he tried to put that thought out of his mind. After all, he had no plans to meet them. How could he? 

* ...how could he accept he’d been falling in love with someone he’d never even met?

YOOSUNG:

* His first glimpse into their life was....rather embarassing.

* He’d just come home from school, exhausted as exam season was right around the corner, college applications haunting his every waking moment-the only thing he wanted was to hop into the shower come out as a full-time employee of a high-paying firm.

* And he did-almost that, letting the water wash the stress of the day away, happily humming a song as he lathered shampoo into his hair, shutting his eyes to avoid any stray soap reaching them-

* -only to find an unfamiliar scene greet him as soon as he opened them again?! 

* He’d been in his shower, at his home-that much he was sure of so how-how was he outside right now?! How was he sitting in a park, a sandwich in his hands, and-there were people around him?! But he’s naked!

* He tried to cover up his body but his hands just wouldn’t follow, but as he looked closer-those hands were...manicured? Wait, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have pastel pink coloured nails, unless his sister pranked him again...

* Oh! Oh, this is his soulmate!

* His initial shriek of fear became an excited scream, his eyes trying to soak up everything they could about his soulmate, ignoring his current predicament as he took in the faces of their friends, the colour of their jeans, even the contents of their sandwich, what they liked and disliked, anything and everything about this scene-

* Only to remember his position as soon as the glimpse into their life faded, his own body greeting him once again, the water stinging his eyes as he looked around manically.

* “Wait” he mumbled, eyes wide, “if I saw into their life....and they can see into mine...”

* His poor mom couldn’t ever understand what the context behind her son yelling ‘DID THEY SEE MY D*CK?!” could be as his voice echoed through the entire house.

* Throughout the years he tried to find out as much info as he could about his soulmate-he found out they loved coffee, that they didn’t really like sweet things, since he saw them refusing sugary treats from their friends more than once, unless they were on a diet-which he’d be sure to tell them they didn’t need to unless they absoloutely wanted to! He doesn’t want his soulmate to think they’re not beautiful, he huffed, all the little things that made up their personality, little quirks and habits that made him fall more and more in love.

* He hoped they could see him too, could see things about him they liked-but as he looked around at his bleak life, the only light illuminating his room being the computer screen...he highly doubted it.

* Rika’s death tore him apart, and he knew his soulmate must’ve caught more than a small glimpse of his breakdown, the countless nights he spend crying, how he’d nod off in school because he spent his nights staring at the ceeling, a million thoughts racing through his mind.

* Yet somehow he knew-he knew his soulmate wasn’t the type of person to judge him for it.

* The fated day came when, during his orientation day at university, another flash came to him-a glimpse into his soulmate’s world...

* Only...they were looking at the same view as him? It was the same university, the exact same area-they must be in the orientation tour too!

* And-he saw himself, a blonde bob of hair a few meters ahead of them, could see his own shoulders tense in excitement, how his feet stopped his fast-paced walk-as did theirs, their gaze solely focused on him.

* He turned in a flash, scanning the faces of his fellow colleagues-until he found them. 

* He didn’t have to know what they looked like to know this was his soulmate. The way their eyes widened as they saw him, how their lips turned into a soft smile, their hands coming up to their reddened cheeks-he knew.

* Before his confidence could waver, he walked to them, gait shaky, extending a hand to them.

* “It’s...it’s nice to finally meet you.” he said.

* They looked up to him, their eyes clear, holding so much emotion-Yoosung couldn’t wait to begin to untangle this Ariadne’s tangle in their gaze.

* “I-you too” they stumbled over their words, “It’s funny I-I didn’t expect we’d meet like this-I don’t know you yet I feel like-like I’ve known you for a lifetime.”

* Yoosung laughed, clenching their hand tight as they shook his, remaining quiet-what was there even to say?

* His soulmate had nailed it right on the head.

* “Yeah” he said, “yeah, me too-but I can’t wait to spend another lifetime getting to know you”

listen Yoosung is a sappy romantic and once he becomes bold enough he’ll be the sappiest boo ever no u cant change my mind-

  -send me a headcanon for mystic messenger character(s) reactions!-

-you can find commission info on my bio if you’d like a full-fledged fic!-