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jeonsjiddies · 4 years

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Not Afraid | jjk (m)

Summary - Jungkook helps you change your flat tire, and teaches you how to let go.

Word Count - 3816

Pairing - Jungkook x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings - dom!jungkook, fingering, bondage, breast play, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, rough sex

a/n: another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

Driving home from university on a hot Tuesday afternoon, you sang along to the radio at the top of your lungs.You sped down the highway (still following the speed limit- for the most part. Didn’t most cops give a 5mph grace?) when your car started shaking and swerving. You put your flashers on and pulled over underneath an overpass bridge. You got out and realized you had a flat tire.

“Crap,” you mumbled, pulling out your spare from the back and staring at it.

You didn’t know how to change a tire. You groaned, kicking the stone wall in frustration. You heard a hissing noise from behind some chipped off stones, and out jumped a snake. You screamed, fumbling away from it. Suddenly, a tall man in a black leather jacket appeared. He fearlessly grabbed the snake by the head so it couldn’t bite him, and walked it over to a grassy area, tossing it free.

“Are you oka-” he began when you threw yourself at him, hugging him.

Your hands then pressed against his chest.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you rushed out.

Being pressed against him felt so good. Your hands slid down his chiseled abdomen slowly, mesmerized. You jumped back to reality, your gaze flickering up to his face, startled. You stood there, frozen, gazes locked together, your hands splayed across the top of his jeans.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” you squeaked, cheeks heating up as you stumbled away from him and his amused expression.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I was enjoying the show,” he smirked.

You almost died right then and there. From this new angle, you saw his deliciously tanned skin, deep brown eyes and razor sharp jawline, but soft, round features. He was gorgeous, erotic, he was…

“Jungkook?” you gasped, recognizing the boy from school.

“Hey, Y/N.” he grinned.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you were having car trouble and I stopped to make sure you were okay.”

You and Jungkook weren’t exactly friends, but you were one of the few people who didn’t treat him like trash, so you were friendly in classes and the hallways.

“I got a flat tire. I have a spare but I don’t know how to change it.” you sighed.

“I can help you with that. Do you have a jack?”

“Uh…” you looked in the back and shook your head.

“I do, at my place. Come on,” he motioned to his bike.

He handed you a helmet and you climbed onto the seat behind him, clutching his torso for dear life. Jungkook’s body felt so good to touch, it made you hold on a little tighter than necessary. He wasn’t even going that fast. He rode down the highway, turning into his apartment complex. You hopped of the bike, your whole body still vibrating from the purr of the engine.

“Whoa,” you swayed.

“First time?”

You nodded.

“I’m honored to have been your first ride,” he smirked, making you blush at the implied meaning.

That bike wasn’t the only thing you wanted to ride… He grabbed the jack from inside, while you looked around.

“Got it,” he said, suddenly standing behind you, his body head radiating onto your back, breath fanning against your ear.

You visibly shivered, causing him to chuckle.

“Let’s go, princess.”

You climbed back on the bike, more aware of his body between your legs than before. He rode back to your car and jacked it up, using the tools he’d brought he took off the old tire and put on the new one. He eased your car back to the ground.

“Good as new,” he beamed, “I’ll follow you home just to be sure that it’s all safe.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. You’re amazing,” you gushed.

He blushed and nodded, crawling back onto his bike and following you to your house. He got off the bike and walked up to you.

“Check your tire pressure in a couple days but other than that it seemed to drive fine.”

“Okay. Do you want a drink or something?” you gestured to your house. “You really saved me today and I just want to repay you.”

“Sure,“ he smiled.

You led him inside, giving him some iced tea.

“Hungry?” you offered him a plate of cookies your mom had left out when she’d gone to night shift.

“Thanks,” he smiled, taking one and biting in.

He closed his eyes and let out a low moan that melted your insides. You pressed your thighs together.

“This cookie is orgasmic.” Jungkook told you, and you just giggled nervously.

“Oh, I forgot to give you the grand tour,” you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen.

You let go as soon as you realized what you’d done and showed him the downstairs before heading up the stairs.

“Last but not least, where I sleep,” you said, sitting on the bed.

“Nice.”

“You’re the first guy that’s been up here,” you admitted.

“Oh, another honor of being your first,” he winked.

You covered your face, laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But didn’t you, Y/N?” the corner of his lip tugged upwards as he stalked towards you, almost like a predator closing in on its’ prey.

Your throat went dry as he placed his hand on your knee, leaning closer.

“Y/N?” your mom called up the stairs, “honey whose motorcycle is outside?”

Jungkook froze, your eyes popped open wide.

“She’s supposed to be at work.”

“I’m not supposed to be here, am I?”

You shook your head.

“Shit,” he mumbled, glancing at the window.

“Don’t go. I have a plan. Come on.”

You led him downstairs and stopped in front of your mom.

“Y/N, what-” she stopped and stared at Jungkook, “Who are you? Why is he here? What were you doing up there?” she accused.

“Jungkook helped me change my flat tire and I didn’t have any cash on me but I wanted to repay him so he followed me here so I could get into my savings jar.”

Jungkook nodded, furthering your story by pulling out a stack of one dollar bills from his pocket.

“Oh, well thank you… Jungkook…” your mom smiled wearily.

“It’s really no problem, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Would you like to stay for dinner? As a thank you? I got off work early and I was going to make steak,” she offered.

“I’d like that,” Jungkook smiled. “At home it’d be me and a frozen dinner.”

“A growing boy needs a home cooked meal,” she clapped, “if you go back into your room, leave the door open Y/N.”

Your whole face felt hot and you just nodded, dragging Jungkook up the stairs.

“I’m so sorry,” you groaned.

“Don’t be, she’s sweet.”

“If you say so,” you mumbled.

You and Jungkook hung out in your room, talking and laughing and getting to know each other better. He told you how he became interested in tattoos, even learning how to tattoo someone himself, though he hadn’t had time to do it professionally with school. Tou told him that you’d never done anything half as exciting as that. The both of you kept moving closer unconsciously, until you were sitting cross legged on your bed, knees touching. You bit your bottom lip nervously. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut.

“Y/N, it’s taking every bit of self control I’ve got not to attack you right now, please don’t make this any harder than it already is,” he groaned.

“Attack me?” you asked.

Jungkook lowered his voice, giving you a dangerous look.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you? From the moment you touched me at the bridge, I’ve wanted you. Even before that. You’re so kind to me, so pure and sweet. But I see the way you look at me. The way you want me. Then you bring me to your bed and you tease me, but I can’t have you. Your mom is downstairs. If she weren’t here right now, I’d have you screaming my name, begging me for more, I’d fuck you so good you’d be limping for days,” he growled, voice barely audible.

You sucked in a breath, using every ounce of willpower you possessed not to jump on him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you babygirl?” he purred. “You want my hands all over you, my tongue-”

“Y/N! Jungkook! Dinner,” your mom called.

Your face was hot from Jungkook’s dirty words, and he had to adjust himself before going downstairs.

“I’m starved,” he smirked, “but I really just want dessert,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling it before walking away.

You nearly fainted, but you followed him down to the kitchen. You sat next to him at the table.

“Wow Mrs. Y/L/N, this looks amazing,” Jungkook smiled innocently.

You pressed your legs together desperate for any kind of relief. Jungkook smiled, placing a hand on your bare thigh under the table. Your eyes widened, and you looked at him. He just smiled politely, eyes focused ahead on what your mother was saying. Your dad came in and introduced himself. Your parents made idle conversation, they asked questions, but you could barely pay attention with Jungkook’s fingers dancing on your skin, so close to where you wanted him, but not close enough. As you were explaining the events of the day to your father, Jungkook’s fingers found their way past the hem of your shorts. You choked on your water.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook feigned concern.

“I’m fine. Wrong pipe,” you coughed, gripping his knee as a warning, pushing your legs together.

He easily spread them apart again, because, did you really want him to stop? His fingers slithered past your underwear, teasing your slit.

“This steak is so moist,” Jungkook grinned.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” your mom smiled.

You rolled your eyes, until he slipped one finger inside you. You bit down on your lip to avoid moaning. Jungkook didn’t even glance your way as he added another, pumping in and out of your heat seamlessly. His arm was barely moving. His thumb rubbed circles around your clit, and you jumped a little. You dug your nails into his leg as his skilled fingers started moving faster, curling and hitting all the best places, making the electricity in your core build fast. You whimpered quietly as he shifted the angle, hitting your G-spot again.

“Are you okay, honey?” your dad asked.

“Yea-yeah. I just… ohhh.. My head hurts,” you moaned out.

“Do you need to be excused?” your dad asked.

“No…” you choked out breathlessly, “I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he gave you a concerned look and started asking your mother about her day.

Jungkook leaned over and whispered hotly in your ear.

“Such a naughty girl, you don’t want to get caught do you? But it feels so good, doesn’t it? My fingers deep in your soaking pussy. You act so innocent, I knew you’d be a dirty girl for me.” he purred quietly, so only you could hear.

“Jungkook,” you gasped quietly, warning him that your orgasm was quickly approaching.

“Let it go baby, but be quiet.”

He smirked, quickening the pace of his fingers. You covered your head with your arms, biting down on one to stifle the loud moan that left your lips as you rode out your high on Jungkook’ fingers, shaking from the explosion deep inside your core.

“Y/N?” your mom questioned.

“I think it’s a stress headache,” you croaked out. “Maybe I should go lay down. I’ll walk Jungkook out.”

“Okay honey, feel better. Nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“Pleasure was mine.”

“Come again soon,” she told him and he just smirked at you.

“I will.”

Once you got outside, you hit his arm.

“You’re such an asshole!” you hissed.

“You loved it.,” he laughed.

You tugged on his shirt and he stepped closer to you.

“There’s more where that came from baby girl. I’m gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” he growled “if your parents weren’t watching us from the window, I’d kiss you.”

“Now you’re scared?” you scoffed.

His eyes darkened and he pulled you against him roughly, kissing you hard and fast, making you dizzy. His tongue battled yours and his hands gripped your sides, grinding you into him. It was like a grenade had exploded in your mind, almost as good as the orgasm. He pulled away and licked his lips suggestively.

“I’m not afraid of anything, baby,” he winked, jumping on his bike and riding away.

Over the course of the next few weeks, all you could think about was Jungkook. Jungkook’s lips on yours, his fingers, daydreaming about other areas of his anatomy… All you wanted to do was to see how he could keep his word but he had other ideas. He loved to rile you up, then leave you wanting more, saying “it will be worth the wait baby.” Jungkook would sneak up behind you in the hallway, covering your eyes, whispering in your ear with that husky voice “guess who?” and you like to tease him too.

“Tae?” You pretend- guessed.

Jungkook spun you around in a flash, pinning you against your locker, capturing your lips in a hot, jealous kiss.

“Does Tae kiss you like that?” Jungkook growled.

“Well now that you mention it…”

“Oh you’re so in for it,” his fingers dug into your side and you let out a shriek as he tickled you.

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” You screamed, laughing.

“That’s right baby, scream my name. Just how I like it, ” he joked, pulling you into a seemingly innocent hug, if it weren’t for his hot breath murmuring dirty things in your ear.

You went weak against him and he pressed his hard on into your hips, to help keep you up and also to tease you. You whimpered like an injured puppy, grinding against him, but he pulled away.

“Mmm… so hot for me baby,” he cooed, “maybe if you behaved and didn’t tease me, I wouldn’t have to tease you.“

“I’ll stop I swear,” You promised.

He grabbed your ass, pulling you in for a fast kiss. The warning bell rang and he took your hand innocently, walking you to class. This hot and cold had shivers running down your spine. He kissed your forehead and went to his own class.

Later, as you cuddled in his bed, you finally broke.

“Babe, you’ve been teasing me for weeks. I want you,” you whined.

“Okay.”

“Really? Okay?” you gasped.

“Yeah, but I want you to beg for it. Beg for me,” he smirked, “tell me how badly you need my big, thick cock in your little wet pussy. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

His eyes were dark and dangerous and you were already dripping as you sat up on your knees, looking up at him.

“Jungkook, please,” you begged, too desperate to be embarrassed, “Please I need you inside me right now. I need to feel your hands on me. I can’t stop thinking about how good your fingers felt inside me. You’re all I think about, I’m going insane. Fuck, please.”

“Mmm.. that’s it baby girl. You want me to make you feel good?” he purred.

“Yes, please. Fuck Jungkook, I’m literally begging you. I’ll do anything,” you whimpered.

“Anything?”

“Literally anything. I need you that badly.”

“Strip,” He instructed, standing up and walking over to his closet and pulling something out.

You did as told without hesitation. Some might call you whipped, but it was more like sexual desperation. You’d been allowed to have a sample, but you needed the real thing. You’d been teased and provoked for weeks, and you were ready to burst.

“Lay back, baby,” He said softly, and you did.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, smirking at you.

“Are you ready?”

Your eyes went wide and you nodded, moving your hands up to the headboard so he could cuff them.

“Now, this is going to be different, but I want you to stop thinking so much and just feel what I’m doing to you. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you breathed out in excitement .

He pulled out a large bandana, covering your eyes with it and securing it around your head. You couldn’t even see any light filtering in through the fabric, it was just darkness. You heard Jungkook’ belt buckle and assumed he was undressing. You felt his body hovering over yours.

“Mmm… you look so fucking good all tied up and ready for me. I’m going to make you feel so amazing baby girl,” he licked a stripe from the sensitive space below your ear down to your collarbone, nibbling gently.

You felt something soft tickle your breasts, causing your nipples to perk up. The strange soft object was ghosted across your alert nipples and you bit your lip and shivered.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

You didn’t skip a beat, “yes.”

“Good girl.”

Everywhere the soft tickling sensation went, Jungkook lips followed close behind. He sucked on your breasts, teeth gently tugging on your erect nipples. You groaned quietly. His wet mouth on your sensitive skin was almost too much. He licked a bold line across them, blowing cold air on the wet skin, and you shook in anticipation. Jungkook treated your body like a temple, worshipping every inch of your skin, telling you how flawless you were, how much he craved you. His mouth slowly, tantalizingly slowly, worked its way down your body, leaving little love bites, kissing and licking and teasing. You felt the soft tickle on your heat, so ready for his mouth to follow, but it didn’t. He teased your slit with the soft touches and kissed your mouth tenderly.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look, all open and ready for me. You’re a fucking goddess, y/n. I bet you taste so good, so sweet,” he told you, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Your mouth fell open in awe at how his words affected you, how even a simple kiss had you writhing, how not being able to see made everything so much more intense, or maybe it was just Jungkook. Jungkook’s mouth left yours, and you missed his body heat pressed against yours until you felt him press soft kisses at your entrance. Finally, he was where you needed him. His tongue darted out unexpectedly, licking and swirling against your sensitive clit. You moaned quietly. His fingers snaked their way into your dripping core, curling just right, just like they had that night at dinner, only better.

You arched your back off the bed, trying to handle your fingers in his hair, but your movements were halted by the cuffs. Jungkook fingered you quickly, pumping in and out hard and fast, but his tongue danced slowly on your little nub, the different tempos making your head spin. You were already close, his magic fingers working inside you, his delicious tongue bringing you so close to the edge. Your high crashed over you and your breath hitched, you couldn’t even make sound, just sucked in your breath as the most amazing feeling washed over you.

Jungkook continued working on your pussy until he knew your high had come back down. Your breathing was labored and he grinned, loving what he could do to you. You felt completely spent, and you thought that was the end of it, until you heard a foil wrapper being opened. You weren’t sure if you could handle anything else with how sensitive your clit felt, but you sure as hell weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Jungkook lined himself up at your sensitive, dripping entrance. He reached up and took off your blindfold, and the first thing you saw was his gorgeous face smiling down at you, meeting your eyes.

“I wanted to be able to see your eyes for this part.” He told you, leaning down to kiss you gently, slowly sliding inside of you.

You gasped, feeling over sensitive and wanting more at the same time. Jungkook moved slowly at first, letting you adjust, then he started going faster. The faster Jungkook snapped his hips, the louder you moaned, Jungkook encouraging you obviously.

“That’s it baby, let it out, I want the neighbors to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh…” you nearly screamed “faster please please please.”

Jungkook pumped in and out of you faster, rougher, causing the headboard to smack against the wall with a loud thud each time. Your whole body rocked along with the force of his thrusts, and you thought you might actually faint. You were flying, soaring, floating, you couldn’t describe it. You were in another world with Jungkook deep inside you, filling an empty space inside you that you didn’t even know existed. It was like you were incomplete until this moment, and Jungkook became a part of you, closing the gap. Your high was coming again, even more intense than the last. You could barely breathe, you couldn’t even get his name out of your mouth to warn him, you couldn’t do anything but feel the ridiculous ecstasy, bliss, delicious feeling that swallowed you whole.

You screamed out, the most intense orgasm of your life surrounding you in immeasurable pleasure. Jungkook came soon after, and slowed his pace after riding out your highs together. He collapsed next to you, breathing as ragged as your own. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak for a moment. You glanced over at him, looking like a snack- no, a five course meal- skin shimmering with sweat. He was perfection and you couldn’t believe he was really here, that you’d really just had sex with him. But it had been more than sex, it was hot and sensual and overwhelming and erotic but it was also two souls intertwining, like coming home after being gone for so long. It was like you belonged there with Jungkook, and you were finally where you were meant to be.

“Jungkook?” You asked breathlessly.

“Hmm?” He looked at you, worn and sleepy.

“You’re fucking amazing.”

“Fucked you that good?” he laughed.

“Gosh yes, but like… all of you. You’re an amazing person. I’m really glad I met you.”

He gathered you up in his arms, kissing the top of your head and holding you close.

“I’m glad I met you too, y/n. You’re incredible,” he cooed.

You didn’t even try to get up for hours, you knew your legs wouldn’t work after the pounding you’d just had, but you didn’t want to move anyway. The only place you wanted to be was wrapped up in Jungkook’ arms, where you were safe and cherished and not afraid of anything.

#dom jungkook #bts #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #college au #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #guk #kook #kookie #jk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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echo-of-sounds · 4 years

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cock and ball worship pt.2

Small smut drabbles of cock and ball worship with Toshinori, Hizashi, and Fatgum.

Don’t like/Don’t read: ball worship (obviously), rimming, and (slight) deepthroating

Yagi Toshinori

“All you need to do is stand here,” you hummed, kissing between Toshinori’s shoulder blades, then peeked past his arm to the mirror. Blue eyes focused on the bureau’s top. Red painted across his cheeks. It was cute. And concerning. “Hey, if you’re too nervous, we don’t have to.”

He met your eyes and smiled, relieving the worry. “I’ve never, um-” He cleared his throat, making your excitement skyrocket. But you hid your giant grin by kissing his arm while he retried, “I guess I am nervous. Noone’s ever done this to me before. ”

“It’ll be new, but it’ll feel good.” You rubbed his sides, snaking your hands to his front. The light blond trail tickled your fingers. “Do you still want to?”

“... Yes.”

“Lean on the bureau.” Toshi’s back tilted forward, pushing his ass out just a bit. Running your hands down his sides, feeling over his ribs and scars, then stroking his cheeks, fondling his delicate sacrum, you lowered to your knees. You nudged the inside of his thighs and advised, “Spread your legs a little, honey.”

Slowly and hesitantly, he did, exposing himself and giving you room to settle between them. You coddled the beating half-erection and began leisurely pumping him. The simple touch was enough for him to moan. A kiss to his balls made him buck into your hold, already grown stiff.

You pushed his leg out some more. It revealed all of him: tan, near hairless, and quivering. While you kept up the gentle pumping, your mouth fixated his balls, sucking on his left, loving the salted bitterness. It tried tensing up, ascending closer to his body, but your lips trapped it and refused to release. Weight increased behind it. Loose skin caught your teeth. All the flavors turned your salivary glands on, causing excess saliva to drivel down your chin.

Because of the lustful hissing and humping, you let go. Though you did it agonizingly lazy: firming your lips and drawing them off, grazing your teeth over the pocket, nipping the final bit, stretching it as far as it could go until it snapped back, arousing a groan and inflaming his erection to bob, dotting the drawers with precum.

Toshi groaned your name rather needily. You didn’t grant him a break, jacking him off and engulfing his right ball. It shifted around in your mouth. Your nose pressed against him. Drool leaked. Tinges of sharp salt grew. The palate burst when you popped him out and licked up his perineum to his rim.

“Oh!” he gasped, grinding backward. As legs spread, more opened to you, providing your tongue entry. He gasped deeper, ground harder, working himself all over you, letting his taste sink into you and your tongue to thrust into him.

Wanting to try something, you stopped jerking him off. He groaned from the loss but carried on while you solely used your mouth to pleasure him, seeing if he could orgasm from that alone. You moaned, feeling all his muscles tighten. Your nails dug into his thighs.

Desperate fingers held your head motionless. He humped your tongue, groaning aloud, clenching, wetly and lewdly from the overkill of saliva.

After the waves died, and his legs were about to give, he unlocked from your hair. You wiped your mouth and laughed at the drawers splattered with cum. You rubbed his back, kissed his blush-covered shoulder, and asked, “Did you like it?”

“Very much so,” Toshi croaked.

You brushed the hair sticking to his forehead away. “Then I’ll do it anytime you like.”

Yamada Hizashi

“Hizashi…” you sighed, placing your hands on his knees.

“In the mood?”

“Not for me.” You kneeled and grabbed the band of his sweatpants. He lifted his hips so you could pull them and his underwear off. Once freed, his thighs spread, and he flopped flimsily between them.

“Scoot forward,” you partially whined, settling on your knees. Hizashi didn’t question your needs. He just did as you said, shifting to the edge of the seat. Your mouth met him halfway, latching on, nursing the soft limpness. Since it was flaccid, you easily took all inside, able to touch your nose to his hair.

A hand rested on the back of your neck. His fingers rubbed in circles, stopping to grab there when your attention aimed at his glans. Your tongue gingerly stroked the small opening, careful of being too rough on his delicate skin. Salt trickled out. You fed off of what little spilled before suckling on his entire head, now cleared of foreskin, and waved your firm lips around his corona, adoring the immediate groans. Teasing there never failed to evoke them.

You took his hard length in, unable to taste all, then slipped him out, dripping saliva to the couch. Hizashi traced your lips with his thumb, lifting it to his mouth for a taste. He sang, “What’s got you all riled up?”

“Dunno.” You shrugged. You leaned closer and refilled your mouth, then your throat as you pushed yourself. You bobbed on him, winding your tongue around, slurping up any drops that ooze past your lips.

“Come here,” Hizashi grunt. You fussed, wanting him to stay where it was warm and wet. “Come on. Let me see your mouth.”

You slowly withdrew him. Fingers traced your sopping jaw. His thumb hooked and pulled down, holding it agape, letting saliva drip all over again while he repositioned. “Here you go, baby.”

With his thighs lounging wide, you had access to his balls. You latched on to one, breathing through your nose to smell the musk, snuggling up between his legs, cradling the other in your hand, frisking all around it. Your tongue pushed and prodded the sac, occasionally lapping under for the sour, over-salted flavor. A moan gushed out at the heat.

“God, you’re so fucking precious, sucking me off like this.”

His compliment fluttered your chest, intensifying your indulgence. You nestled as close as possible. And even with your cheeks turning sore, you continued supping, swallowing, and nipping. Your head lazed on his thigh as you fed. You tasted lower, pecking his perineum with your tongue. Spit flowed downward.

Hizashi bucked at the liquid. A blush tinted his cheeks. You stared directly into the eyes while he jerked himself off. He returned the gesture, gaping at you and your lips. Your teeth started clamping on the lax skin, feasting on the entire oval inside.

“Fuck!” he howled. “Fuck, you thirsty?”

You nodded.

“C’mere.” Hizashi directed you to draw him in, holding your head steady while he calmly yet hurriedly thrust into your mouth, forcing a gag every other insertion. Saliva and salt built until cum joined, stuffing your throat, leaving you wallowing in it as his grip knotted in your hair. Thighs went rigid. He praised through his orgasm, “Fuck- Just like that, baby. God, you- Fuck, just like that.”

Hearing you choke, he guided you off, and he flopped out, flimsy once again. You wiped your chin on his sweatpants. But instead of getting up, you cleaned him, licking the semen and spit away.

Hizashi patted your shoulder, breathless. “Thank you.”

Toyomitsu Taishiro

You blew raspberries on Taishiro’s stomach. He didn’t react in the slightest- not even a twitch of his lips. “Really?”

“I told you, I’m not ticklish.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled to yourself as you kissed his lower tummy, following the dark stretch marks down, passed the tuft of hair, to his penis. He rested flaccid, his foreskin practically screaming your name. Numerous veins raised the skin. They flattened under your tongue, pricking up after you washed by.

You supported him, watching his soft foreskin smooth over his glans when you tentatively moved it lower. The opening fit snug, unable to retract beyond his corona. You kissed the rim through the layer of thin skin and ran your tongue along it, feeling it shudder from the warmth.

“Use your tongue properly and lick inside, baby,” Tai hummed.

You answered with a moan, slipping into the tight opening, tasting the unseen skin. Salt sopped your tastebuds. It drizzled into the back of your throat, more and more the harder you sipped. He fattened in your hold. The middle swelled the plumpest, heaviest, followed by his glans flaring, producing thick precum. Moan thoughtlessly escaped.

“You like how I taste, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” His head poked your cheek, ballooning it out, causing a bit of drool to fall from your lips.

“That’s good, baby. I’m glad. Now, why don’t you take care of my balls for me?”

Your tongue withdrew, saturated in the tart taste. You tauntingly-yet-carefully stretched the loose skin between your teeth, unveiling the rim of his head. It was dark red, swollen, beating, and covered in saliva. Letting go, it was covered again. You kissed and sweetly sucked his tip. It drummed wonderfully against your palm and in your lips. Each pulse spurt just a little precum out for you to eat.

All of a sudden, amid your enjoyment, it was removed. Tai held himself, playfully noting, “You must really like how I taste.”

“I love it.” You kissed his balls next like he asked. The dusting of near-invisible hair didn’t bother you as you sucked one in, pumping with your mouth. It rolled with your tongue, bloated from arousal. The relaxed skin tightened around them. You wondered if he was close or if he was bigger than you remembered.

Not dwelling on it, you released with a nice pop, then repeated the affection on his other one. He grunted and humped with his hand. You nursed harder, almost biting, before popping that one out too.

“Keep doing that,” Tai groaned as he worked himself. A flush coated his face. His gaze locked onto yours. “Your mouth is perfect. You know how to use it so well.”

You whimpered around him. Saliva messed your jaw when you detached, sticking to both of you.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. Just focus on me. I’m almost there.” The husk in his voice drove shivers down your back and made you press firmly to him. You lapped between his balls, switching from sucking to nipping to pulling to kissing, then finally back to licking, abusing the scrotal skin red and randy. You moaned with your tasting, taking in all the bitterness and musk, nurturing all the more scents to flourish.

He cursed repeatedly, running his hand up and down his length, jerking into his hold and your mouth. His balls tensed and rose. You kept drinking them in, humming while he groaned and praised, cumming onto his stomach in rich strands. Only when they lolled did you release, ending it in a charming kiss.

You crawled up to Tai and brushed his bangs back. You nuzzled against his cheek, kissing and whispering praises back to him.

#all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha

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icefire149 · 3 years

Note

Fluff prompts. 51 + destiel :)

Heyyyy there <3 I'm so sorry how long this took to write. Between my own life throwing hurdles, THIS FIC.....this fic just kept throwing me in the trunk and taking control of the car. I'm so sorry it sprung a million miles away from fluff immediately. I don't know why when I mediated on the prompt my mind went this way and didn't stop. I hope you still enjoy what ended up happening anyways <333

#51 “I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

Dean’s heart stopped the moment they fell through the portal rift. His body hit the bunker floor with a loud thump, but so did Castiel’s. It wasn’t until a moment later when Cas wiggled to sit up, slamming the palm of his hand onto the floor as he gasped for air, that Sam felt his stomach drop.

“Dean?” Sam shouted, dropping to his knees at his brother’s side. He shook Dean’s shoulder with increasing roughness.

With wide eyes, Cas pushed forward searching Dean’s face for any sign of life. “He was…..Sam, he was just-”

“He’s not breathing.” Sam muttered in shock before surging forward to start pressing on his brother’s chest. “What did he do, Cas! A deal?”

“No!” His whole body started trembling. What he wanted was to lay his hands on Dean’s head and wake him up, but there was nothing he could do now. His fingers lightly grazed across the bandage Dean quickly taped on his neck. There wasn’t an ounce of grace left.

Squeezing his hands into fists, Cas glanced around the room. Besides the three of them and the bowl the brothers must have used for the spell, the room was bare. “Where’s Jack?”

Sam kept his eyes glued to his brother’s face. His jaw tightened. “A lot’s happened since you died. Jack’s God now so he left.”

“He’s what?” Furious, Cas pushed Sam’s hands aside and took over compressions. He slammed a single fist into Dean’s chest, rocking the man’s whole body from the impact. Still, Dean didn’t wake.

Cas leaned close, listening and feeling for breath against his skin. His mouth quivered as he sat up feeling for a pulse. “No,” his voice commanded.

He started compressions, pressing harder than Sam dared. Dean’s limbs convulsed. “You failed, to mention, that you let, our son, become God,” he growled in between beats, letting his eyes trail up to Dean’s face. “You promised, me, forever! You promised. You promised.”

“You’re….breaking his rib cage,” Sam’s voice broke. His eyes were wide with horror as he watched his brother’s chest concave more than he thought possible. “Cas?” Sam’s voice shook. He rested a shaky hand on the angel’s shoulder.

“You don’t, get to die,” Cas mumbled, ignoring Sam’s presence. His hands paused for a moment as he took a deep breath. The sound of his own heart racing was like a loud boom, pounding on his eardrums. “Jack Kline, you will come home right now.”

Cas resumed compressions. Again, and again. He blinked the beading tears away, but they quickly filled his eyes. His hands, the bunker, Dean….they all blurred away as he kept beating to the rhythm of his nightmare.

The tears ran hot down his cheeks while he blinked. He needed to keep Dean in his sight. Dean was his beacon home. Sniffling, Cas couldn’t stop.

Sam withdrew his hand. “Cas?” his voice was so small and afraid like several decades were suddenly torn away.

Then as Cas pressed, he finally turned to glance at Sam. His voice cracked, "We're gonna need an ambulance."

At that, Sam flew to his feet, feeling for his phone before spotting it on the nearby table. He was unlocking it when a blinding light filled the room.

"Castiel?"

“Fix him.” Cas didn’t look up. He kept pounding on Dean’s chest. His compressions had only lessened a fraction in strength.

But Jack didn’t move from where he stood on the other side of Dean. His gaze moved over to Sam, and the fear circling there twisted the hunter’s gut into knots. “But I…..” Slowly, he dropped down to a knee, and then the other. “Cas,” his voice cracked. “There’s a bigger picture that I’m apart of now. I promised to protect it. I promised not to interfere.”

“And I, promised, to protect you,” Cas answered, halting compressions. He remained hunched over Dean with his hands still pressed over his heart. The angel’s eyes squished shut as quiet sob tore through him.

New tears slid down his already soaked face, hugging his jaw. “I can’t do that without saving him one more time. He promised me forever.” His gaze slid up to meet his son’s with fiery determination. “Jack, it’s too soon to be his time.”

“Okay.” Jack laid his hands next to his father’s. He closed his eyes, and breathed.

Dean gasped awake with three sets of eyes staring at him from above. The angels withdrew their hands.

Sam fell back into the chair at his side. His whole body sagged with exhaustion. “Thank you.”

“What happened?” Dean’s stare bounced back and forth between everyone. He slowly sat up, and Jack collided into him first.

Pressing his chin into Dean’s shoulder, Jack collapsed into him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

A few coughs tore through Dean’s body, but he kept a hand on the center of Jack’s back the whole time. When his breathing settled, Dean hugged him back. Also with his free hand, he laid a hand on Cas’ knee.

“I felt it….when I healed you. Everything,” Jack confessed quietly. “Your heart gave out.”

Dean snorted at that. “That’s not much of a surprise, kid.” His eyes met his brother’s. “Sammy’s been telling me for years the bacon was gonna get me.”

“No.” Jack hung on tighter. “It was grief. The loss of Cas…….me. It weakened your heart, but I knitted it all back together again.”

“Oh.” Dean’s grip on Cas’ leg tightened.

“I didn’t know you would miss me.” The words came out quiet enough that Dean wasn’t sure if Jack meant to speak them out loud. And then Jack started to let go, but Dean held on tighter.

“I’m an expert at messing up….heh, well, everything in my life, but yeah, of course Jack. Of course, I missed you.”

The rest of the day felt almost too good to be true. They all climbed into the impala -Dean drove much to Sam’s dismay- and they went out to their favorite diner closest to the bunker.

Over their favorite meals, Jack began going over his progress and plans for all of creation. There were several parts where his excitement was palpable, but he clearly was trying to be mature about the situation under Cas’ scrutinizing eye. Sam followed after, explaining in detail the spell work him and Rowena poured over crafting the past several months. Intermittently, Dean cut in to proudly point out where his research came in handy and how him and Eileen went about gathering the ingredients.

Afterwards, Jack looked up from his dessert with chocolate syrup smeared at the corner of his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he studied Dean closely. “Now that Castiel is free, what are you planning on doing now?”

Surprised, Dean leaned back in the booth. “That’s not my call.” He wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Any ideas?”

“No more dying,” Cas answered firm, taking a long drink from his beer. His steely gaze slowly moved to each person at the table. “That goes for all of you.”

“And you too,” Jack pressed.

“Of course.” Cas shivered involuntarily. “I’m not planning on returning to the Empty any time soon.”

“You shouldn’t, ever,” Sam answered. “That was the push behind removing your grace. Without it the Empty shouldn’t have any claim over you.”

“Thank you,” Cas answered, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“You’ll never go back.” The tone in Jack’s voice lifted Cas’ gaze to his. “When the time comes, you’ll have a place at my side. Forever.”

Smiling softly, the tension drained away from Cas’ body. “Thank you, Jack. That’s an honor.”

“You’ll all have an important place,” Jack continued happily. “Mary too. And my mother.”

That night had a difficult start. Jack reluctantly left for Heaven. He promised to return for the following weekend to discuss his duties further with Cas. And Cas, he held onto his son for so long that Jack in between his laughter had to appeal to Sam and Dean for help getting free.

It wasn’t long later that Sam got up from the library chairs they were all located at and rested a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re back. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight Sam,” Cas answered. He watched Sam cross over to Dean and punch his shoulder teasingly.

Once Sam was out of sight, Dean’s gaze landed on Cas. Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Today, uh, didn’t exactly go as planned, but….I’m glad it happened.”

Cas’ stare hardened. “Dean, you died.”

“And I got better.”

Sighing, Cas’ gaze fell to his lap. He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “I can’t do that again.”

“Well, I can’t watch you die for….what? The fourth? The fifth time?”

Wincing, Cas nodded. “You asked me earlier….or rather, Jack asked you, what we’re planning on doing next and-” He sat up straighter in his chair and held Dean’s stare. “I want us to retire from hunting.”

Gobsmacked, Dean blinked. “Retire?”

“Doing research. Providing assistance on the phones….that’s all still acceptable and I’m willing to compromise on that.”

Dean chuckled, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Cas repeated, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded with a grin. “I’ve been bugging Sam for a couple years now about retiring…..especially if Jack could make things better...like the future that you saw.”

“Oh.” Cas tilted his head a bit. “I didn’t realize that you took that to heart.”

“I didn’t at first,” he admitted. “You died, and I figured that it was all one huge manipulation. Gabriel’s illusions. Lucifer’s lies.” Cas nodded, and Dean continued. “But then, you came home and….it became hard not to see so much of...you in him.”

“He’s a good boy, but I’m afraid that you’re placing too much….credit? On my shoulders.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Jack’s good, because he has the best father to emulate. There’s nobody else that fights….and sacrifices...to do the right thing like you.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth curved. “And they’re probably better off for it….”

“Cas, come on.” Dean sighed. “Okay, you did your big speech about how you see me….well suck it up, because you need to learn to see yourself the way everyone else sees you.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious,” Dean pressed. “Like yeah, things don’t always go as we planned. I sure as hell know Chuck didn’t plan on being fired and left in the dirt, but….the point is that, you’re probably the best guy in existence.”

That knocked the air out of Cas’ lungs and slapped a goofy smile on his face. “You’re biased.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong, and I’m not.”

Cas shook his head, but that smile was still firmly there. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Come on,” Dean said standing up. He reached a hand out towards the angel. “It’s time for bed.”

Without hesitation, Cas took his hand but he didn’t rise from his chair. He stared at the marvel that was Dean’s skin pressed against his. It was callused in a few places, but still softer than Castiel imagined.

His gaze lifted up to meet Dean’s and a pang of anxiety wrapped around his chest. The joy slipped from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s grip tightened.

“What if I don’t wake up? Statistically, there’s a chance I’m still asleep in the Empty.”

Dean tugged Cas’ arm, and the angel let himself be pulled forward and engulfed in Dean’s arms. They clung onto each other tightly.

“You’re here,” Dean pressed. “This is real. I’ll remind you every day if I have to. I meant what I said when you woke up.”

“And then you almost didn’t get to fulfill that promise.”

“I would’ve,” Dean said, in a matter of fact. Pulling back, his eyes trailed over every inch of Cas’ face. He brought a hand up to cup the angel’s cheek, and then Dean leaned forward to press a kiss to Cas’ forehead. “Where ever my soul would've ended up, nothing was gonna change. I’d still love you.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “So you’re promising, forever-forever?”

Chuckling, Dean dropped his head so his forehead was on Cas’ shoulder. “Yeah,” he breathed, laughing still. “When forever ends, I’ll just love you some more.”

Other fics from this round of prompts

Previous round of prompts

#spn #my writing #despite this taking me a million different directions i'm really happy with how this story came out #i'm incredibly fond #i'm sorry for the initial pain. it gets sweet!

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thecatchat · 3 years

Text

Jumping In

Part 1 of Floral Fiasco | part 2

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"You don't have to do this."

"Shush 'n put down your whiskey, Kid."

Kid took another sip of the bitter drink. He knew Quackity wouldn't be very happy to learn that he had been working with a sprained wrist, but he didn't quite expect him to go this far. Kid had his hand wrapped up in so much gauze, it looked like he had a broken wrist instead of a sprained one. He had been told to lay down in Big Q's office and rest for the rest of his shift, which wasn't too unbearable thanks to the small stack of leather bound story books that were kept in there. It was after his shift, when Quackity had come in to check on him and asked him to stay at the casino overnight, that he wasn't expecting. Quackity telling him it would be dangerous if someone tried to mug him and he couldn't fight back properly.

It wasn't until twenty minutes after Kid agreed that he remembered that it was his non-dominant hand that was sprained. He could still use a knife and fight properly. He could have taken orders or helped with paperwork. But instead he had been put on bed rest in his bosses office.

Every now and then, he remembered how strange his life really was.

He glanced over at Quackity, who was glaring at some paperwork, before going back to the book he was reading. It was written by Karl Jacob, Quackity's… something. He thinks the two are dating each other at this point, as well as the kind "knight" named Sapnap. He's not entirely sure. Quackity never announces stuff going on in his personal life, people just walk in on things and the news spreads from there.

The book itself is quite interesting. It detailed a, hopefully, fictional story about the trio exploring a different dimension. So far, in the story, Quackity had scammed three people out of their money, Sapnap had been kidnapped and almost cooked alive once, and Karl nearly died on so many occasions, Kid had lost count. If Karl actually died in the story, then it was a fake story. That's how Kid could tell the difference between real and fake stories, despite Karl insisting all of them were real. As strange as Karl was, people who are killed stay dead. Karl wasn't an exception.

For as strange as the stories are, they are all very well written. The descriptions are detailed and vivid. Kid can almost imagine the some of the more common places described in the books. An infinite beach with barely any water in it, with enormous and detailed buildings created by a "God" named Foolish. The swaying, salty smelling ship of the adventurous Captain Puffy, or rather Captain Jack's ship that was constantly taken over by Captain Puffy. The constantly changing home of the "Sleepy Boi's" and the strange challenges they put each other up to. The descriptions of Prowa and Quarry, the dimension Sapnap lives in, were the most imersive.

As pages are turned and words are read, Kid got more and more curious about these other places. He wanted to know what all these creatures actually felt like rather than simply read about it. He wanted to see the televisions with their static filled screens. He wanted to smell the salty oceans while feeling the ship sway beneath his feet. He wanted to know about the potions and magic of Quarry. He wanted to know what it was like to go outside and see color, just as bright as it was on the inside.

"Hey, Quackity," Kid mumbled without really thinking.

Quackity, snapped his head up immediately and slid out of his seat, "do ya need something? Water? food? More whiskey?"

Kid turned to assure Quackity that he was fine, only to find Quackity had already crouched next to him and was pressing the back of his hand to his cheek.

"It's just a sprained wrist!" He batted away Q's hand, "I just had a question for you."

"Oh," Quackity backed off and leaned against the couches armrest, "so, uh, what 're ya wonderin' 'bout?"

"Well, um- it's nothing." Kid buried his face so far in the book he couldn't read the words anymore. The fact that he even knew about other dimensions was because Karl dropped in front of him after hours. He was just an employee. He hadn't even worked at the casino for a year yet! What was he doing, trying to ask his boss if he could go to a different dimension. Sure, Quackity was nicer than most, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. Right?

Quackity was a little taken aback by the sudden shyness from the typically snarky and up front kid. A quick peak at the book cover and a few seconds of mental puzzling, the answer clicked into his brain. "Ya wanna pipe a different dimension. Am I right?"

Kid peaked over the edge of the book. His scales were bright red against the pink of his cheeks in embarrassment at getting called out. Q's face wasn't scrunched in a snear or in a smirk. Instead, it was held in a neutral but honest looking expression. A perfect poker face. "Yah," Kid nodded carefully, still testing the water, "it seems very interesting. Especially, the colors."

Quackity slipped into an genuine smile, "that's mah favorite part of goin' ta other dimensions. Seein' da colors just as bright outside as they 're inside never gets ol'. I'll ask Karl 'bout it when I see him next."

Kid's brain practically shut down for a few moments at that last statement. It had been said so casually. But Quackity wasn't mad! Or telling him no! He actually said yes! Sure, he technically needed to get the go ahead from Karl too, but Karl wasn't exactly a piller of safety and caution.

"Hehe, alright, take it easy," Quackity chuckled at Kid's gaping, "Karl should be here sometime next week so-"

"QUUUUUUU!!!" Quackity was cut off by an impossibly vivid swirl of colors popping into the middle of his office. Out fell Karl, and in a whirl wind of color and movement, he half fell and half ran straight for them. At the last moment he skidded to a stop with open arms. "Quackity!"

"Oh, hey, Karl, we were just chinnin' about you." Quackity said as he hugged Karl in greeting.

Karl either didn't hear Quackity or was too focused to respond as he nearly screeched, "COME WITH ME!"

"Uh," Quackity looked between Kid and Karl for a moment, "where?"

Karl struck a pose between each word,"RAINBOW. JUNGLE. MANSION." He ended with his hands shaking like the jazz dancers do. Jazz hands, Kid remembers them being called that once.

"Um- hey, Kid," Quackity turned with an slightly confused smile, "ya wanna go ta a rainbow jungle mansion?"

"Yes!" Kid smiled brightly as their scales turned a bright yellow.

"Let me put this book back-" Kid attempted to prop himself up with his elbow, but it met empty air and fell into the growing tear in reality, and the rest of Kid followed a moment later, "-doOOOAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

From nowhere and everywhere, Kid could hear Karl laughing with unrestrained glee. Echoing inside his head and faintly in the distance and all the places in between, Quackity called out Kid's name. Kid felt like every part of him was being spread out, spun individually, and flipped upside-down at the same time, or maybe it was just the swirling, bright, vivid colors that surrounded him that seemed so much more chaotic and energetic than usual. It felt like everything possible was happening at once and he could only watch.

It took a few moments of blinking for Kid to focus his eyes. Once he did, he saw Quackity and Karl leaning over him. Quackity had let his wings out and they were fluffed up and messy. His arms were held out in uncertainty, concern radiating off him. Karl, on the other hand, simply had his head tilted a bit and was humming thoughtfully.

"Maybe I should have given him a warning."

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@inkytrinket-irii here's part 1! I wrote this all today! I doubt that the rest will come as fast, but here you go! Hope you like it! I'd love to know your favorite part!

Edit: ran Quackity's dialog through a 20s dialog translater, he has reached peak mobster. If you need any specific lines translated, just ask, but it should be solvable with context clues.

#karlnapity dimensions #ksq dimensions content #if sad check this tag

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angelkurenai · 4 years

Text

Heaven on Earth - Dean Winchester x Reader (French Mistake/Soulmates AU)

Title: Heaven on Earth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 4,221

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! I love your fics a lot. Especially the French mistake trope ones! I was wondering if you're taking requests cuz if you are I would so love a soulmate french mistake one for the finale.. had been something how you'd give it your own take. If not, it's totally okay I love your work regardless! <3

Imagine instead of dying and going to heaven, Dean is brought back to life by Jack who choses to give Dean the ending he deserves. An ending which he had been hoping to live through but never got the chance. An ending, a life, where he gets to meet his soulmate, you, whose name is written on his wrist and whom he never got to meet simply because you weren’t in the same universe.

“Huh?” Dean breathed out and blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust to the change of scenery that came a little bit as a shock for all the different kind of reasons than anyone else would expect “Looks like I finally made it. Who would've thought?”

He let an easy smile rest on his lips as he took the scene around him, unfamiliar as it was there was still a great deal of hospitality that made his so comfortable in this lovely tiny living room. It wasn't familiar in any way that meant that he had seen it before but it was something he could very easily get used to, a place to love and call home. So much so that he had to ignore the pang in his chest when he remembered that he couldn't get to show it to his brother, not anytime soon that is. It was something that he would have to accept, no matter how hard it proved to be.

“Weird.” he mumbled, approaching a window and looking outside, the city although again not familiar, looking as calm and normal as it could be “I don't remember this one.”

The change of scenery while, yes, expected after one's death – and Dean was no stranger to the concept – did make him frown at what he was really coming face to face with. “Did they change things around here?”

He asked practically at nobody but that didn't mean that he wouldn't receive an answer “Well, to be fair I do think that chair was by the other side of the room. And those books, she must have moved them too.”

“Son of a-” Dean jumped in surprise and soon pressed his fist against his mouth to stop himself from continuing that sentence. Before he even had the chance to wonder if it was even right to swear in a place like this, all words died out in his lips when he turned to face the person that spoke up.

“Jack?” he whispered, almost in disbelief; his eyes widening.

“He-hello-” a small huff left Jack's lips when Dean closed the distance and enveloped the boy in a hug which he returned “Hello Dean, it's good to see you again. Though I don't believe it has been that long.”

“Yeah” Dean laughed “Way to rub it in my face how I fucked it up so soon huh?”

“You never... I never said you did, Dean.” Jack frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side “You've done great. You have done so in fact your entire life, even when it was exceptionally hard, even when other men would have given up. You kept going. And, yes, it might have been rather painful sometimes and exhausting and seemed never-ending, but it did. It ended. And this is what you get, this is your ending Dean. Peace. I-” Jack paused, looking around “I wanted to do some things differently but it is not all up to me, there are rules to the universe and how it works. Balance you see. So, I'm... sorry that Sam can't be here, not yet at least.”

“Alright kid, don't make me tear up already, will ya?” he joked but looked away when he felt the pang in his chest again. Heaven or no heaven, he was dead and Sam was alone. Miracle too. And oh that still hurt and it would hurt for a long while.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again, instead “Ah yeah, pretty much got that. But no, no Jack you've- you've done more than just enough. Not that there are a lot of options for the other side, but given everything this is really the best one so- thank you. This- this is good. Real good.” Dean looked at his friend, trying to convey as much of his gratitude as possible. For what he didn't know where to begin with, especially after everything that Jack had done but maybe more than anything it was about how Sam wasn't there with him. Not yet, and hopefully not before he'd lived a full and happy life.

“You're welcome. You deserve it.” Jack shrugged once more, smile bright on his face.

“So you uh you stayin' or will you be gone soon? This place is kind of... strange to me, but I'm sure there must be a kitchen somewhere. Could get you something?” he suggested, already making his way around the place while trying to figure out where the kitchen was. It was a small apartment though so it didn't take long for him to figure it out; Jack closely following along.

“Uhm no I won't be staying long, I just wanted to come and see if you're all settled, if you've rested and all that.” he shrugged softly.

“Well, I'm more or less dead, so hey-” he actually found himself chuckling and ignoring the frown that set on Jack's face “Can't get any more rest than that, right?” he opened the fridge and started looking for a beer, speaking again before Jack had the chance to do so and voice his concerns “So uh, love what you did with the place. What was it really again?” he pointed to the living room's direction as he closed the fridge, setting the pie and a beer in front of him.

“Oh uh-” Jack blinked, looking towards the living room “I told you, it wasn't really me. (Y/n). She must have moved around some of the furniture. I'm pretty sure the books too.”

He tried not to let it show. He prayed that it didn't show. He knew that that Jack wouldn't question it, but that didn't mean that it wasn't there. That it didn't happened. That his heart didn't do that same crazy jump and his hand, if not his entire being, shook at the mention of the name. Jack didn't even blink and as he brought the beer to his suddenly dry lips he thought that maybe he'd gotten the hang of it after practically a lifetime. A lifetime without a soulmate that is. And the thought slipped in his mind like it always did and he bit the inside of his cheek to get himself under control. Jack didn't know and Dean was far from in the mood to talk about another, if not the most, painful chapter of his life. Maybe... hopefully he had gotten better with the years and none of it showed.

“No uh that's not exactly what I meant, buddy. But never mind.” he could feel his throat closing, his body betraying him with that same unbearable grief only an empty side of the bed could bring, so he made sure to speak up before it got the best of him the way it usually did “You creating angels now too?”

“Angels?” Jack frowned before he shook his head, clearly confused “No, I- Not yet. But... (Y/n) is not an angel. She's human.” another soft shrug.

And there was the name again, for the second time in less than a minute. Too much too soon for Dean to take. He found himself sitting in one of the two only chairs in the kitchen. His hand found its way to his wrist, subconsciously rubbing over the ink that covered his skin ever since he was a teen. Maybe it brought some kind of comfort, got him the chance to feel like you were close by and offering him comfort yourself when in reality all he had was your name and, thank heavens, no line over it. He didn't know how he'd get to deal with the fact if he was ever to see a line. He was thankful that at least up until the moment he died the words were there, solid and beautifully curved to form your name, until the very last moment he was able to feel their warmth. Up until it all was enveloped in darkness. His life had not had many advantages or comforts, but knowing that you were safe (even if far away from him) was more than enough to make up for all of it.

Though that thought now brought about another storm of dangerous, if not painful, ideas. Ideas about how you were going to deal with his death. Dean was and would always be weak about you, even if he'd never met you. He didn't know how he'd take it and now he had to consider, think and imagine how you'd deal with a line over his name on your wrist.

The mere thought made his heart twist painfully in his chest quiet similar but also so different to any other time. To hurt you was the last thing he'd ever want. And knowing that he had inevitably caused that, well, it would make resting ten times more hard.

“Humans making changes around heaven, wow. Jack you're really stepped up your game up here.” he went for nonchalant and hoped it worked.

“Humans...” Jack narrowed his eyes with a tilt of his head before it seemed to dawn on him and his eyes widened softly “Dean... you're right, there have been changes in heaven. I felt like it was time to move on, that it was time for things to be done different by someone who cares. By someone who wouldn't abandon it all and not care to listen. It's exactly why I asked for Castiel's help, anyway.” the name caught the hunter's attention and he did pause to frown but Jack didn't stop his words, he kept talking “We changed things so that heaven wouldn't about reliving your favorite memory. It would be simply about living. Living on forever and about to make new memories.”

“So that's what it was huh? And here I wondered when-”

“B-But this is not about any of it! That's what you don't get.” Jack said fast enough, cutting Dean off who blinked in surprise.

“Do I have to ask what it is or will you just go off rambling again? You seem to be on a roll today.” he took a sip of his beer, his lips pulling into a smile that he could barely feel in all honesty.

Just following along some very familiar, painfully familiar, steps. Making small talk about anything and everything that his mind could come up with, was one of them. Anything as long as his treacherous heart stopped with the painful beats. But the echo of your name in his head didn't seem to want to die out and he had to try harder.

That is if Jack didn't-

“It's simple.” he smiled sweetly “(Y/n).”

“A-Alright-” his voice shook and he hated himself for letting it show, but he was a weak man deep down and there was only so much he could take “Listen buddy. I don't know what's happened with you or who this-” he choked on his words.

Oh dear, he choked on his words. That had not happened to him in years, and yet here he was. Unable to say the name of the soulmate he had never met. Unable to say the name of the woman whom he dreamed about every night, coming up with you'd look like, what you'd be like in and out. He choked because while it has been a long time, he could still not fight the longing or ache in his soul whenever h heard the name. And best, or maybe worst, of all is that he couldn't fight the hope that rose in his chest. So many cases, so many places visited and whenever he heard that name he both prayed and feared it was you.

So many times he got his hopes up. And so many times all those hopes turned into mere dust, slipping through his fingers. Each time more painful than the previous. Leading, ultimately, to a life without you.

Really, he could only take so much after hearing your name so many times in only a few seconds. He just couldn't do it to himself, couldn't bring himself to say it. He took a deep breath in and clenched his fists “I don't know who that chick is, or what you've really trying to do here. I'm just thankful for everything you've done because this-” he looked around him with a fond smile “This place is more than good for him. It is, both literally and figuratively, heaven.”

“Well, that's just it.” Jack tilted his head to the side “This... is not heaven.”

“Oh yeah? Well, it sure as heck doesn't seem like hell either. Unless they did some general uh renovations?” he asked, almost playfully, as he looked around with a nod of his head “Oh yes, lovely color on that wall right there. Goes well with the-”

“(Y/n) picked it.” Jack shrugged, the name effectively managing to close Dean's mouth shut - and he almost glared at the boy for thinking that he could be doing it on purpose at this point “And this-” he turned back to Dean, face still serious “Is not hell either.”

Oh really now? Then, it does seem like pur-

“No, Dean.” Jack said firmly, cutting him off “You- you're not dead.”

“Uh you sure about that buddy? Cause I think I can remember pretty vividly that I got impaled. Like, Olaf from Frozen style and all.” Dean scoffed a small laugh, taking a sip of the beer. And boy, was he dead, but that still tasted good enough.

“Well, yes but actually no. See, you were on the brink of death but that doesn't mean you have really died. I saw it. I saw it all, I was there and kept you alive or, well, almost-dead long enough for Sam to... give you a hunter's funeral and then for me to put you back together, to heal every would and bring you here.” a smile slowly spread on his lips “This other world. To live in. To make new memories as I told you.”

“What- What's that supposed to mean?” Dean's voice got more gruff as realization start to dawn on him that Jack was very much serious about all of it “And, anyway, didn't destroy every other world there was?”

“When I brought everyone back on your world, I- I was able to do the same with every other world he had destroyed. Including this one. Dean, I mean-” he laughed softly “Did you really think, that after everything you'd been through, after everything you'd given for that world, after all the people you'd saved that I- I would just be another version of Chuck that let that be your ending? You deserve this. You deserve to live this life, a life where you have all you really want. I mean Sam is not here, sure, but soon I hope I will be able to come here too.

“Hold up. You really mean to say that I- I'm- I'm alive?” Dean frowned deeply when Jack nodded “Then wh-what the hell am I doing here? Why the fuck am I not back home? What kind of shitty game-”

“Because you can't. It's- It disrupts balance. Anything hat dies must stay dead, that's a rule that has been broken too many times and we couldn't bear it anymore. However, here-” he looked around him with a smile “You can be alive. And you can live a long, happy life. Without regrets.”

At this point Dean had every reason to think the kid was doing it on purpose. First mentioning your name so often and now, now this was not just pouring alcohol into an open would but rather tearing it open even more. Because yes, he had many regrets in life. Far more than he could ever count. Some of them he was or could get to overcome easily so. But his biggest ones? The ones related to you would always be there, though, and they would always haunt him worse than his nightmares.

“Why here then? What does this world have that I could possibly want so much as to-”

But before Dean could ever get to complete his sentence, let alone get a reply - one that wouldn't really cause him a heart attack - the door burst open with a loud thud. Dean jumped in his place, a frown on his face and worry starting to slip into his very own bones when Jack rose from his seat with a smile. But before he could even bring himself to question it, he moved away from his seat and made his way to the door with only a few long strides. Only to be met with the sight of one too many bags from the market, filled to the brim with food and other essentials, and the sound of an annoyed -but entirely adorable if he could say so -grumbling and cursing.

“Bloody idiots. Ignorant people. Fucking idiocy more infinite than the whole damn universe. Worse than the pandemic itself.” he saw you pull the mask you were wearing away angrily, only to look more cute in Dean's eyes and alright, a bit more than just cute because he was not dead after all and if did run into you anywhere else he would gladly try his luck, but this was far from an ideal situation, especially as you-

“No wonder Chuck would wanna snap those away. Heck wouldn't I-” but your words were cut off as a screamed ripped through your lips the second you closed the door and turned towards them, probably for the first time realizing they were there and as expected the bags you were holding fell from your hands.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, hand pressed over your chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Whoa whoa it's ok, calm down. Calm down. We're not gonna hurt you. It's alright, we-”

“Calm down!? You almost gave me a freaking heart attack dude! Because when I said that I would die a happy woman if I were to meet Jensen Ackles even once after that finale, the scenario of chapter one of a bad soulmates fanfic is not what I had in mind! You- You-” you looked around after trying to take a few calming breathes “You just broke into my apartment.” you almost whispered in disbelief “Have you gone insane, man? Who the hell is 'we'?”

“Oh, right. She can't see me.” Jack told him only afterwards and Dean rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Oh great, thanks for the heads up, buddy.” he muttered to his friend. He shook his head before dragging a hand down his face. He then looked at you, finally taking a good look at you and trying not to let his confusion show at the weird flip his heart did “Listen, I'm not crazy, I swear. I'm sure this may look very confusing and hard to explain but I can assure you that once you hear me out, everything will make sense. Just- just don't scream again, yeah? Or freak out or anything.”

“Nah it's cool. I mean why would I freak out? Because the actor I, more or less, look up to and have been a fan of for years is standing in the middle of my crappy and messy living room, dressed as my favorite character on top of that. Without any previous warning or time for me to prepare. Yeah, pff-” you scoffed, waving your hand “Why would I freak out? I can be calm. It's not like this is some kind of dream coming true, anyway. I can be the definition of calm this moment. I'm not freaking out.”

“...You're freaking out.” he said after barely three seconds. Letting you take a few deep breaths of air to calm yourself down, because apparently you needed it. Even if he didn't understand why.

“I'm definitely freaking out.” you admitted, nodding at him as you pressed your lips in an adorable pout which was too distracting if he could admit so to himself after blowing out some air.

“Better now?” he asked hopefully and you held his gaze for a few seconds before shaking your head.

“Definitely not. This might take an hour or two. Or maybe a month? Just- just to let it all settle in you know? I'm dreaming, I definitely must be dreaming. You're just a dream huh? Come on, just admit it. It will be easier to accept. I mean-” you shrugged, looking away with a shrug as you mumbled, mostly to yourself “Wouldn't be the first time.”

“I'm- Sorry, what?” he asked after a few seconds. Maybe Jack was right, this was better than heaven.

“Nothing.” you shook your head fast, and in a far too adorable way “Nothing. I didn't say a thing.” you cleared your throat and looked away from him, letting out a sigh as Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Instead, let himself chuckle at your too-adorable ramble that followed “This is- this is insane. If I knew that 2020 would end with me meeting Jensen Ackles then I would have never judged its ability to pull the craziest shit on us.”

“Je- Who?” Dean blinked a couple times though, before letting out a long sight and shaking his head “Really?” he just looked straight at Jack, not caring how crazy he looked at that moment “But of all those worlds, it had to be this one? You know what buddy? Maybe I'd have rather stayed dead.”

“No you wouldn't. I know. So do you.” Jack said with a far-too-knowing smile that made Dean narrow his eyes at him.

“Yeah” you dragged the word, effectively getting his attention - not that it was that hard for you “Sure. Not crazy at all.” you chuckled.

“Not crazy, sweetheart.” he shrugged “And certainly not Jensen Ackles, sorry to disappoint.”

Oh yeah? Then if you're not Jensen who are you? Dean Winchester?” you raised an eyebrow, smile playful on your lips and far too distracting for Dean, but there was no way he would dare admit it.

Confusion passed through his eyes before his interest was peaked “Bingo. You couldn't be more right, sweetheart.”

“Aha sure.” you still chuckled, lips pulling into a smirk that he liked more than he should already “There are cameras set around here, right? Like, of course there are. Is this some kind of goodbye gift though, to the fans for the finale and what not?” you started looking around for said cameras. He momentarily got distracted by the distance that only lessened between the two of you as you moved around him.

He made sure to snap out of it though before he made too much of a fool of himself “Oh don't know what cameras you're talking about but this- it ain't that. It's more complicated than that. As in-” he shrugged “I went on a hunt with Sammy, I died, he burned the body, Jack here whom you cannot see put my back together again am guessing kinda like a human puzzle, stuffed my soul back inside and dropped my ass on your living room without a warning. So, really, it's just as much of a shock to me as it is to you.”

“So you're keeping it up huh? Alright then. I'll go along with it. I am guessing that since I am also part of this story, I should probably introduce myself hm?” you smirked and he shrugged, playful as well.

“Well, it wouldn't be bad anyway. Until you believe me, that is. And Figured I should put a name to the beautiful face.” he tried to seem casual about it but he was anything but “Dean Winchester, pleasure to meet ya. And sorry for crashing in the middle of your apartment like this.”

“Wonderful.” but instead of reaching for his extended hand to shake, you grabbed a grocery bag and handed it to him cheekily “Help me place all these stuff in their place and I might just forgive you.” you shrugged grabbing some of the bags and making your way to the kitchen, only to pause when you realized he wasn't following “What? Saving people, hunting things, the family business, ain't it? Well, there is no monster here to hunt but oh could I use some saving from the terribly exhausting job of cleaning these.”

“You- for real?” he gaped at you in disbelief.

“Hmh. Couldn't be more real. Take the rest, will you?” you grinned at him and started walking towards the kitchen again, leaving him to stare after you and maybe take a few seconds to bathe in the warmth you laughter brought to him. Dean only shook his head, laughing to himself as well before started to grab the rest of the bags, noticing how you'd left the heavier back on purpose.

But it was during moments like this, when he really felt like there would be no troubles and no more thoughts that the world pulled the most cruel kind of jokes on him. And instead of calm, his world fell apart... or in this case fell into perfect place. For the first time now, in his entire life.

“Oh and for you help, a reward is in accord. Name's (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and it is a pleasure.”

Only for Jack to add in a low voice barely three seconds later and verify each and every thought and fear and hope running through his veins in that moment.

“Because this world has the one that can give you the real heaven, on Earth. Your soulmate.”

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gemstone-roses · 4 years

Text

Hannibal x female reader

Trigger warning-mentions of friend committing suicide, reader blames herself. Mentions of suicide. Do not read if this will trigger you.

Requested by anon.

If anybody reading this is struggling here is a link to a self care masterpost with suicide hotlines HERE You are not alone.

Gif not mine credit to the owner.

It seemed so wrong, walking through the corridors at work, the sun was piercing through the windows, you could hear people pleasantly exchange morning greetings, and it seemed so wrong. For the world to just continue when yours had been changed forever.

You could have taken the day off, but you didn't want to, be alone, with your thoughts, you wanted something to occupy your mind.

You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding when you got to the lab.

Leaning against the wall, you didn't hear the door open.

"Morning y/n, Jack needs us in his office in five, something about a crime..

Are you alright y/n?" Hannibal's concerned tone asked,seeing the look on your face.

" I'm fine, ill see you in the office" you tried to smile.

Hannibal saw through it, furrowing his brows.

"Very well" he finished.

Hannibal turned around as he was leaving, seeing you steady yourself on the counter.

"so I need you and hannibal to go and.. Y/n, are you listening to what I'm saying?" Jack folded his arms

You had been working so much, you barely had time for sleep, let alone a social life. You kept in regular contact with a few of your friends, you'd usually reply within hours but you were just so tired. You switched your none work phone back on as you got home, seeing a few missed calls and a voicemail from your friend, ill listen to it in the morning, you thought. Not even bothering to go up to your bed, flopping down on the couch.

It's my fault, you thought.

"y/n!" Hannibal shook your shoulder, you weren't usually like this and hannibal was worried.

"Yes sir" you said, not having a clue what he had just said.

Jack raised his eyebrows

"Agent y/l/n, take my coffee" he smiled, assuming you were just tired or had a late night.

You nodded your thanks at him, hannibal got the door for you and let you pass first. Hannibal walked beside you, choosing not to say anything yet.

You took a reluctant sip of the coffee

"ugh" you mumbled, dropping it in the bin. Hannibal chuckled slightly, knowing Jack had unique coffee taste.

"y/n, is everything okay?" Hannibal asked again.

"I'm fine Dr lecter" you said, anger rising up inside.

Hannibal was unfazed though.

"Sorry" you said quietly.

"could you just, just, I'll meet you outside okay Dr lecter" you said before turning into the bathroom before he could have a chance to answer.

You headed straight for the sink, splashing cold water on your face. When that didn't work you steadied yourself against the sink, trying to take a deep breath.

"y/n" he called softly, reaching for your shoulder.

"no" you whispered

"y/n" he said again, a bit more forceful. Coming even closer to you.

Everything you'd been holding in all morning came to the surface.

You let out a choked sob as you felt him squeeze your shoulder

"sh, y/n, come here" he said softly, encasing his arms around you.

"it's my fault" you sobbed into his chest

Hannibal held you tighter

"I should of answered the phone, if I'd of.. I could of.. Stopped them" you choked out.

"y/n, look at me" he released his arms and tilted your head.

"This is not your fault, okay, you cannot blame yourself y/n, you are grieving okay, please y/n this is not your fault sweetheart" hannibal comforted.

He saw your face fall again before he pressed your head into his chest.

"I just, fuck I should of just answered the fucking phone" you sobbed.

"y/n, do not blame yourself" he whispered.

You continued to sob into his chest, and hannibal just held you whilst the sobs racked your body.

After a while, your sobs had died down to sniffles, tears still stained your face. Hannibal gave you a squeeze.

"Come on, you can come home with me y/n, and I shall cook you some dinner and you can talk about your friend y/n, I'm sure you have some wonderful stories y/n?"

You sniffed, looking up at him, and hannibal took the handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped your tears.

" Okay" you said, your voice hoarse from sobbing.

"Good, come on sweetheart" he wrapped his arms around your waist as you headed out to leave.

#Hannibal x female reader #Hannibal imagine #Hannibal lecter imagine #Trigger warning suicide #Tw: suicide

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rowyn-writes · 4 years

Text

Under the Weather (Jack Kline)

Warnings: Fluff, self doubt, sickness

Pairings: Jack x Reader, Dean x Reader (Platonically) Sam x Reader (Platonically)

Characters: Sam, Dean, Jack, Cas (mentioned)

Word Count: 1678

Summary: When you get sick, Jack's there to take care of you.

It was freezing outside. The first snowfall had made it's way through Kansas, and you were excited to enjoy the beautiful scenery. Ever since you were a kid, you loved playing in the snow.

You should have listened to Sam and Dean when they told you not to stay out there too long.

It just started with sneezing, which was normal for you since you had allergies, so you thought nothing of it.

"Achoo!" You sneezed once more. "Ugh. I think I'm getting sick."

Dean gave you one of his, 'I told you so,' faces. "What did we tell you about staying out there so long?"

"Yeah, yeah." You dismissed him. "Jeez, Winchester. You sound like my dad."

Dean, Sam and Cas might as well been your dad's, in all honesty. They had found you when you were thirteen. Your parents had been killed by a group of vampires, and you had been taken hostage. The Winchester's had found you, scared and confused.

They told you everything about vampires, werewolves, demons and everything that went bump in the night. You had nowhere to go, as your parents were your only family, so Sam and Dean took you in.

You stayed with Bobby most of the time, where he taught you what you needed to know about monsters and hunting. And when Bobby died, you were crushed. You didn't know how to cope with the loss, so you threw yourself into hunting, becoming one of the best hunters around.

You attempted to clear your throat, fighting off the urge to cough. Dean rolled his eyes. "I'll go get some cough syrup."

Jack entered the den, taking a seat on the couch next to you. "Are you okay, Y/n?" He asked.

"I'm fine, just feeling a little under the weather, is all." You assured him.

"But how can you be under the weather? You're inside." Jack seemed confused.

You giggled at his cluelessness. "No, Jack, I meant that I don't feel well today. I'm coming down with a cold. I'm sick."

"Oh." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm still learning the correct meaning of what humans say."

"You and Cas both. He's been down here for years and still doesn't understand a lot of sayings." You felt your body rumble with another cough.

"Y/n!" Jack said worriedly. "Are you okay?! Do you need me to get Dean?"

"No, no, Jack, I'm okay. It's just a cough. Besides, Dean's getting me some medicine to stop it. Don't worry."

Not even a few seconds later, the oldest Winchester walked in and tossed you a bottle of cough syrup. "Drink up, kiddo."

You gave a disgusted look as you drank the bitter liquid. "Yuck."

"It's your own fault, Y/n. Sam and I told you not to stay outside too long." Dean reprimanded you. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah, but it was worth it, right, Jack?" You asked, looking over at the Nephilim.

"It was!" Jack agreed. "Y/n and I made a snowman and built a fort!" Dean cracked a smile as he looked at you and Jack.

You felt your eyes begin to droop closed, feeling exhaustion overcome you. Neither Dean nor Jack bothered to wake you up, as you looked so tired.

Dean sighed as he looked at his phone. "Alright, I got a case to go work. Jody and Donna need help with what looks like a skinwalker. Watch over Y/n while she sleeps. Get her anything she needs. I would move her to her room, but I don't want to wake her. And if she wakes up and tries to join me and Sam, stop her. She's way too sick to gank some monsters." He gently kissed you on the head before saying goodbye to Jack.

As Dean watched you grow up, you had become a sort of little sister/daughter to him. Along with Sam, he always put you first. Although, Dean secretly wished you weren't a Hunter and went to college, like other people your age.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Jack asked, making you jump.

"Jesus Jack! You scared me." You pressed a hand to your chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine, I just thought I was alone. Where's Dean?"

"He's out with Sam on a case. Something about a skinwalker?" You threw the blanket off your body and began walking to your room. "Where are you going?" Jack asked, following you.

"To help Sam and Dean."

Dean's words floated in the back of Jack's mind. "Wait, Y/n. You can't go, you're sick."

You dismissed him, not listening to his words as you slipped on your shoes. "They need my help, Jack. We never go hunting without each other."

You stood up too quickly, becoming lightheaded. You stumbled slightly, but thankfully Jack caught you, steadying you. "You're not going anywhere. Sam and Dean can handle this." You sighed as he gently pushed you back down on the bed. He untied your shoes and set them aside. "You need to rest."

You pouted. "But I'm not tired. How about we watch Netflix?"

Jack agreed excitedly, as you had gotten him hooked on a show called Grey's Anatomy. You scooted over in your bed to make room for the tall boy. You got out your laptop and set it in your lap, clicking on the show. After a while, you felt your stomach rumble.

"Are you hungry?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, a little." You admitted. Jack nodded as he stood up and walked out. You gave him a confused look. You wanted to follow him, but you were so tired you doubted that you would make it to the kitchen. About ten minutes later, he returned with a bowl of soup and a cup of tea.

"Here. Sam told me that when humans get sick, this is what they eat to make them feel better." He handed you what looked like a heated up can of chicken noodle soup and herbal tea. You gave Jack a smile as you happily accepted the food. As soon as the soup hit your taste buds, you wanted to spit it out, but you begrudgingly swallowed it.

"This is amazing, Jack!" You lied with a smile on your face. "Thank you."

"Oh, I was worried that you might not like it. I've never cooked before." Jack sat back down next to you on your bed. You quickly downed the soup and drank the tea he had provided for you. You felt yourself becoming drowsy once more. Due to the lack of room on the bed, you snuggled yourself into Jack's side.

He slowly wrapped his arm around you, feeling awkward, but at the same time, he felt butterflies in his stomach. "Hey, Y/n?"

"Yeah?" You opened your eyes sleepily.

"How do you know if you're in love?"

That woke you up. "Oh, well, I don't really know. I've never been in love."

"You haven't?" Jack asked.

"No. Although, I haven't really had the chance to fall in love. I've grown up with Sam and Dean on the road, so I couldn't really make relationships like that." You paused for a moment. "But from what Sam and Dean have told me, it's not just a crush or something trivial. I think it's like you would do anything to make them happy, even if it hurt you. You would sacrifice everything if it meant that they would be content."

"Oh," Jack nodded. "Then I'm in love with you."

"What?!" You sat up. "Jack, you're not in love with me."

Jack sat up as well, his arm falling to his side. "But I am. I would do anything to make you happy."

"Yeah, but Jack, that different. I would do anything to make you, Sam, Dean, and Cas happy, but that doesn't mean I'm in love." He was obviously confused, there was no way he could be in love with you.

"But it feels different with you than it does anyone else. I want to be around you all the time, you make me laugh, and you teach me all kinds of cool things and different words, like fu-"

You covered Jack's mouth with your hand. "Don't say that word in front of anyone. You can only say it if it's just us." Jack nodded as you pulled your hand away.

"Why can't I be in love with you?" He asked.

You sighed as you looked at the Nephilim. You cared for him deeply, and you would go as far as to say you do love him, but there was no way he could love you.

"Jack, I'm not the type of person you fall in love with. I'm not a size 2, I'm a size 20, I'm not pretty, or smart or anything like that."

"But I think you're beautiful and intelligent. I don't care about those superficial things, Y/n. I think you're amazing."

You could feel your heard beating out if your chest. No one had ever told you these things, no one that mattered, anyways.

"Jack, you don't love me." You insisted.

"I do. Please, let me be in love with you." You didn't say anything as Jack leaned in to kiss you. You let his lips skim over yours before pulling away.

"Jack, I'm sick." You protested.

"I can't get sick." He grinned.

You felt yourself smile as you kissed him, his mouth fitting perfectly with yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as he cupped your face. You had no idea how Jack was such a good kisser, but he was amazing.

Suddenly, the door swung open. "Hey, kiddo, you doing o-" You and Jack jumped apart, looking over to see Sam and Dean standing in the doorway.

"W-what are you doing back so early?" You stuttered.

"Jody and Donna didn't need our help after all." Sam mumbled, a shocked look on his face.

"Jack," Dean said lowly. "When I said take care of Y/n, this is not what I meant!"

#castiel imagine #jack kline imagine #sam winchester imagine #spn imagine #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine #gabriel imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #jack kline #jack kline x reader #jack kline x y/n

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jwritesandrambles · 3 years

Text

“Supposed to Be”

Hi there! Yeah I still barely use tumblr but hey lookit I did the wrote thing down!!!!

I would like to give a bit thank you to @schweeeppess and @dragonsworn05 for editing my messy dyslexic rambles. @noroomforcream and @just-a-little-in-over-my-head did some really cool art for this!

(if I missed tagging someone, it’s not personal I appreciate you so much, I’m just posting in a rush mwauh)

Jason was back in Gotham. For the second time since he died, actually.

The last time hadn’t gone well. Technically, it had gone according to plan--for the most part--but Jason was still shambling together the broken pieces of his mind. Back then in December, all that was left of Jason were the shards of hurt and anger. He had been living for nothing but the idea of someone else’s death. Coming back to the real world, away from the sheltered and hidden places of the League of Shadows and the All-Caste, seemed to bring a bit of him back. Seeing Bruce, talking to him…everything that went down, and the reminder that he cared about him--loved him, even--it woke something up in Jason. Something that he thought had died along with him and never came back.

He had spent a year by himself, taking any mercenary jobs he could get, trying to find something other than the all consuming anger that had fuelled him for the past few years, but his travels didn’t matter now, as he stood in a back alley of Gotham, the protective red helmet tucked under his arm. He wished his replacement, Tim Drake, hadn’t chosen this particular alley to meet up in.

The balcony and rickety old fire escape were unforgettable to Jason. It was where he had met the Bat, after trying to jack the tires off one of those many damn expensive cars that Bruce had. Not only where it began, but where he once thought it would end. It was only a year ago he had stood, gun trained on Bruce, the man he had, for a time, called father. His voice shook and tears rolled down his cheeks, “it would be so easy to kill you.”

Jason was ripped from his reminiscing as a soft thud signaled that Red Robin had landed behind him. Jason flinched more than he’d like to admit, but fought the urge to draw his weapon. Quick reflexes was a nice way of saying jumpy.

“Hood,” The teen greeted.

“Replacement,” Jason said with a nod, echoing Tim’s tone back at him, relaxing.

“Weren’t you a replacement too?” Tim pointed out, seeming to take no offence.

Jason shrugged, “True. I’m not denying it. Just as long as you know that’s probably what B expects. Another Grayson,” he mumbled.

Sure, he was less angry than before, but that didn’t mean Jason wasn’t a bitter son of a bitch.

Tim bit the inside of his lip, an awkward and slightly uncomfortable look on the visible part of his face. It flickered away and was replaced with a more professional, neutral expression as he cleared his throat.

“Yes... well... We’re here for a job so let’s focus. You got all the information B sent you?” He was honestly trying his best, but he was hesitant about this mission. Could anyone blame him? Jason Todd had proven himself to be... volatile. The memories of Jason’s violence were all too fresh in Tim’s mind.

“Yeah, I got it. I read the file over,” he mumbled. He puffed out a weak breath, “Scarecrow set up a chemical mixing shop by the docks, at least one shipment has come in, but we can expect more, right? Anything I missed?” Jason asked, rummaging through his coat pockets.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He had been trying to quit, but he didn’t want to be getting distracted with cravings while trying to focus on the mission.

Tim watched him quietly as he lit off, smelling the tobacco from up on his perch.

“Um... yes, that’s all,” the teen dragged his teeth along the edge of his lip. The skin felt slightly raw and sore from his empty minded nibbling.

Jason started walking off down the alley, leaving a slight trail of lingering smoke in damp air. Tim followed.

“So,” Jason pulled the cigarette from his lips, careful not to let his helmet slip from under his arm. He held it between his first and second fingers, “Uh.. Why’d you have us meet here instead of anywhere closer to the docks?” He asked, trying to break the awkwardly growing silence.

“Scarecrow has patrols circulating around the docks. We’re less likely to be spotted if we’re not waiting around there to meet up,” Tim explains with a little shrug.

Jason hummed a brief note of understanding, “Oh yeah, that makes sense. I’m, uh, I haven’t worked with anyone in... years,” Jason paused, taking another drag from the smouldering cigarette, “Y’know, really nothing team oriented since working with B. Even then I was a shitty teammate,” he laughed hollowly.

Tim nodded, thinking about what Jason’d just said. Had it really been that long? Maybe… maybe the fact that Jason was even admitting to being a bad teammate didn’t bode well. It could mean trouble for them later. If it was so obvious that even Jason could admit it, perhaps Tim shouldn’t have done this team-up.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tim ran to catch up to Jason quickly, “Wait... how old are you?” He asked upon reaching him.

“I’m t- uh... hold on, well... how long was I gone?” He asked Tim in return.

“You were thought to be dead for five years,” Tim told him, in a tone like he was reciting a Wikipedia page written about the formally deceased, wayward Wayne boy. Now that Jason thought of it, he was certain Bruce had a file written up on him now. Bruce had written up for every major criminal in Gotham city.

Jason let out a low whistle and soft huff, “I must be… twenty one now? Weird.”

“So... you didn't know how old you were till now?” Tim raised a brow, causing the mask to shift.

“Yeaahh,” Jason drew the word out sarcastically, pretending to took him deep thought to reconcile. “Somethin’ about the severe head trauma, dying, comin’ back, and being isolated from the normal world for years, all while being a wreck the whole time seems to have made my memory a lil’ fuzzy,” Jason said with a wry, sarcastic smile.

Tim seethed silently, letting out a series of apologetic mumbles, eyes dropping to ground ahead of him- it was a tactless and rude thing to ask, and Tim should’ve known that!

Jason laughed weakly, hand quickly coming up towards him and... ruffled Tim’s hair? The boy hadn’t even had a chance to recoil. He was just confused; that was the last thing he’d expect from Jason.

The man stubbed out his cigarette and lumbered on ahead of Tim, dropping it in the trash, “Don’t worry about it, kid. I was just being a bitch, you’re fine.”

Tim opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. A man who tried to kill him only a year ago had just ruffled his hair?! He decided not to comment on it, because-- after all--what the hell could he even say?

Tim cleared his throat again, “We should get into position, we’re almost there. Maybe get your, uh, helmet-thingy on?” He suggested.

Jason glanced at the helmet- he’d almost forgotten he had it tucked under his arm.

“Yeah, of course,” Jason said, lifting his helmet and plunking it on his head, “good reminder, Timbers.” His voice became modulated the second the helmet covered his head. His low, gravely, smokers growl of a voice, was nowhere near and deep and gravely as Bruce’s--but sounded like it took a step closer with every box of cigarettes--became a pitch lower still. An odd robotic twang edged his words, giving him a metallic, cyber sound.

Tim adjusted his own mask, making sure it was firmly in place before nodding to Jason. The two silently started up again, approaching a warehouse that was supposed to be locked until the next morning’s shipment. “Supposed to be” being the operative words. Instead, there was muted huffing and shuffling as two of Scarecrow’s workers uncomfortably hauled a large crate into the building.

Both Jason and Tim seemed to shrink into the shadows at the same instant; each becoming one with the wall. Jason drew his weapon quietly, earning a disapproving frown from Tim. “I’m not gonna kill them. Chill,” Jason whispered in that odd robotic voice.

Tim seemed satisfied enough to quit pouting at Jason. They crept closer, making little dashes between hiding spots when the coast was clear.

Jason let out a breath of curse as his eyes fell about the giant, glass, canister. It was filled with a bubbling, sickly, arsenic green substance.

“No way, that shit is all fear toxin? Fuck! He’s got enough to blast the entire downtown!” His voice came through in a synthesized hiss.

“Worse.” Tim whispered, spying the large pressurizer on top of the glass container. “That’s just the liquid form. When he releases it, it’ll be gaseous. If it’s released from the container from a high vantage point, a small breeze could cover the entire city in minutes.”

The severity of the situation washed over what little of Tim’s features were visible from beneath the mask.

This wasn’t just a quick little in and out operation anymore. One wrong move and there could have a small, yet very messy, catastrophic outcome.

Tim had to plan this carefully, because there was no way they could afford to mess this up.

He turned to Jason...or, rather, where Jason had just been seconds before.

Jason had evidently had a similar train of thought to Tim’s. He’d realized this was a serious situation, though, instead of drawing the conclusion to re-evaluate, re-plan, and carry on with caution, or something sensible-- he seemingly forgot any sense of subtlety he had. Oh, God forbid carefully thinking his actions out, like any sane rational person would do. Or calling for backup, like anyone with a vague semblance of self-preservation. No no, instead, Jason had decided it was best to act now and not waste a second with plans or any ideas of safety. He jumped into action.

Jason was already leaping over the crate the two vigilantes had been hiding behind seconds ago, as Tim let out a quiet imploring hiss of “Wait--oh no-”“ but it was too late.

Jason already had his gun drawn.

“Scarecrow!” he yelled, “this ends now!” He fired at the box the two workers were carrying, sending it out of their hands and clattering to the floor. A series of shattering followed the initial crash as the contents shattered. Whatever chemicals that had been inside hissed loudly, a faint smoke rising from between the boards of the wooden box.

“Hood!?” The Scarecrow rounded to face who he knew as the ex-criminal, ‘The Red Hood.’

“In the flesh.” Jason kept his gun trained on Scarecrow, while a third worker who had been off to the side started to shuffle his way towards him.

“Thought you moved your little operation away from Gotham when the Bats got the better of you,” Scarecrow commented, not seeming pleased about the interruption at all.

Scarecrow’s worker lunged at Jason. Tim kicked himself mentally and left hiding, kicking the worker --physically, not mentally this time-- back away from Jason. The third worker scuttled back, apparently deciding this altercation was above his pay grade.

Jason felt something he hadn’t really felt in a long time; it was a feeling akin to camaraderie. He had someone watching his back for once. If the circumstances hadn’t been so dire, he might have even cracked a smile. Or, rather, he might have felt a slight tug at the corner of his lips, at least.

“Well, yeah, the bats did get the best of me. Now I’m tryna give them my best. And that involves bootin’ your sorry ass out of here.”

“Quick witted, aren’t you?” Scarecrow tensed slightly. His eyes darted away from behind his mask for a moment. He was glancing to the side. Tim followed his gaze over to the-

Shit! The canister! If the bullet missed Scarecrow it would-

Tim knew what scarecrow was thinking, but it was too late.

“NO!” Tim shouted, helplessly watching as Scarecrow dove.

As expected, Jason pulled the trigger reflexively, but the Scarecrow had already ducked. The bullet made a resounding bang as it fired, hitting the large gas canister.

Tim seized up, every nerve buzzing, every muscle tensed, every fibre of his being filled with an awful sinking sensation. The room was deadly-still. It was like something written by the hand of a fool-hardy novelist, who was paid far too much for over-the-top paperbacks; The bullet had embedded itself in the glass, acting like a stopper. A sickening series of cracks emanated from the canisters, as a thin spidery web formed across the glass. All tendrils originating from where the bullet hit.

Jason let out a low whistle, “Well. That coulda been disastrous.”

Tim couldn’t help but feel relieved, a stressed laugh escaping his lips.

Scarecrow was scampering away, his workers already having pulled a quick disappearing act themselves, because, this wasn’t what he’d planned.

“Don’t even think about it, Crane,” Jason said as he turned, taking a heavy step.

Said heavy step was apparently too much. The glass gave a shuttering groan, followed by a small hiss as gas began to leak.

Tim made an involuntary distressed sound. Something akin to an exhausted sigh mixed with a whimper.

The one word that ever so eloquently graced Jason’s lips was, “Fuck.”

And the canister...

Burst.

The pressure placed on the glass had built up and could no longer hold.

Jason’s final step had been the breaking point, the spider work of cracks along the glass giving way with a great shatter.

Shards of the canister flung themselves across the room. The liquid that had been held within instantly began vaporizing into a thick, sickening gas. To anyone that had the misfortune of inhaling it, it felt as though the gas was trying --with every atom of its existence-- to choke the life out of its victim. It reached into their lungs, clawed at their insides, grabbing at their desperately beating hearts, and squeezed. It forced their brain to fill their body with adrenaline and hallucinogens. Tim knew this.

He’d studied the Scarecrow’s fear toxin many times. He’d been exposed to it before, too. Tim knew this fear and knew he was helpless to do anything about it.

Tim was helpless to stop this. He had failed. He’d failed Bruce. He’d failed this mission. Because he was weak. He was weak, helpless, hopeless, a failure, a burden, unwanted. He was nothing more than a replaceable replacement. No one would care if he was gone, God, it’s not like anyone would ever notice! He was a forgettable nothing. Tim coughed and wheezed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

Tim staggered. He tripped over his feet trying to get away from the intense fear that gripped his throat. Tim realized something physical was gripping his neck. The thing dragged him back roughly, towards what he could only assume was something horrid. Tim clawed at the thing gripping his throat. As he gasped for shuddering breath, he couldn’t help but begin to sob. He was going to die. He would die and no one would care. No one would even try to find him when he didn’t come home, they wouldn’t even notice because he was worthless, replaceable, weak, failure, helpless!

A new level of fear washed over Tim as he felt something cover his face, it encased his head. Tim could feel it squeeze his skull, he swore the pressure felt tight enough to crush his cranium like a tin can. It was claustrophobic. He felt his own shallow breath bounce back against his lips, because it had nowhere else to go. He was trapped and suffocating.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t BREATHE! OH--oh, oh no... no? Wait a moment... he COULD breathe.

Tim took a moment to try to get his bearings. He needed to remember how his lungs worked. He awkwardly sucked in a breath of filtered, recycled air. It tasted tinny on his tongue. Tim blinked the tears from his eyes. They rolled down his cheeks, and he became aware of the taste of salt too. There was the faint scent of stale tobacco and smoke. His mind was reeling as he processed each detail. He dragged tongue over his lips nervously, and began to chew at his bottom lip. Tim’s heart was still pounding and his hands were shaking. He raised his hands to feel his head, glancing at his twitching fingers as they passed in front of his face, confusedly. Everything had a red tinge to it. He pressed his hands to his head, feeling a hard smooth surface.

Tim’s brain felt slow and groggy, taking a moment to clue into what was on his head. Was it Jason’s helmet? Yes, yes it was Jason’s helmet, that was certain, but where was Jason?

The thick gas still hung in a green fog, but the helmet seemed to be filtering the worst of it out. Tim swept his arm though the air, watching the gas clear slightly, before swooping in to fill the gaps. Tim knew he needed to thin this stuff out if he wanted to have any hope in finding Jason before tripping over him. He rushed through the room, feeling his way over to the door. Scarecrow’s men had closed it, containing them --and more importantly the gas-- inside. Small mercy the fear toxin wasn’t being released on the city though.

Tim dragged his fingers along the wall. His senses were so heightened that it was almost overstimulating. It was likely due to the toxin, Tim guessed. He could still feel the rough brick as he scraped along, even through the tips of his gloves. It was oddly reassuring. A steady constant he could focus on until -thunk- His hand bumped into a smooth metallic protrusion from the wall. Exactly what Tim had been looking for.

“Bingo.”

Tim swept his other arm through the air again, doing his best to fan the gass away for him to get a bit of a better view of what he was hoping to see. A metal switch box, old and slightly rusted around the edges. Tim had been counting on any wearhouse by the docks having a ventilation system to keep the products safe from humidity. Of course, he was right. With some difficulty, Tim wrenched the switch box open. After straining to read faded, dusty labels through the gas in the air, he flipped what he hoped was the right switch.

There was a small whine of aching metal that hadn’t moved in a long time and Tim cracked into a grin underneath the helmet.

He’d done it!

The fans kicked into a regular pace. The smooth ‘whoomp whoomp whoomp’ of turning blades filled Tim with a sense of muted triumph. The foggy haze of fear gas began to thin as the building began to filter it out, mixing it with the humid air. Tim figured it would be condensed and drip out to puddle with the dirty water in the alley behind the warehouse. If Tim was right, which he usually was, it wouldn’t harm anyone unless they decided to drink from the puddle water. Which was unlikely, but not impossible. It was Gotham after all.

Tim looked around the room as the gas dissipated. His gaze found its way to a shaking heap on the floor next to the shattered remains of the canister he had been standing before. The proud grin faded from Tim’s lips.

That... that wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Hey, um, hood? Red hood, status?” He asked, the words felt strange as they left his mouth. Hearing his own modulated voice echo slightly in the room felt vaguely surreal.

The heap of muscle and leather known as Jason didn’t reply.

Seeing Jason’s twitching body on the floor emptied a hollow pit in Tim’s stomach. Jason had never seemed like he was even capable of fear. Capable of rage, capable of hurt, and capable of pain, sure, but fear seemed like something Tim would’ve assumed Jason was beyond. Something so... innate, that the unnatural nature of Jason’s second life would’ve swept it away.

Tim made his way over, hesitantly rolling the helmet forward off his head. The fear toxin seemed to be thin enough now that it wasn’t harming him.

“Ja-er, Jason?” Tim’s soft voice seemed thunderously loud in the quiet room. The only other sounds around were the fans quietly whirring away and, far more disturbingly in his opinion, the even quieter shaking breaths and distressed whimpering tumbling from Jason’s lips.

Jason was not in good shape. He was shaking violently, hands over his head. His whimpers were punctuated by violent spasms that racked his body every few seconds, accompanied with a louder more pronounced cry.

Tim felt the colour drain from his face. He quickly kneeled down, setting the helmet on the concrete floor next to them both with a slight clink. Tim grabbed Jason’s arm, trying to turn him on to his back. Jason heftily flailed the arm Tim pulled, unintentionally hitting Tim in the face. Tim yelped in surprise as a sharp pain sprung from his nose, warm liquid leaking down his face. The blood pouring down his face didn’t deter Tim much, the blood coursing through him seeming to do the opposite for pain as it did the rest of his senses. The pain was slightly numbed--or, rather, it had become easy to ignore. He fought to wrangle both of Jason’s arms, quickly scrambling to sit on Jason’s torso, struggling to pin Jason’s arms down with his legs.

Tim took off his mask. He knew it was against protocol, but an un-obscured face was easier to recognize when the toxin took hold, in Tim’s experience.

“Jason? Jason, look at me. Can you hear me?” he asked quickly, holding on to Jason’s shoulders. He desperately hoped Jason wouldn’t throw him off. Jason’s eyes were unfocused, spinning around wildly all over the room.

Tim tried to process Jason’s words, “No, not again, ple--I can’t I--it hurts! Fuck! It hurts,” Jason’s words became incomprehensible for a moment, then his fists clenched tightly. “I don’t want to die! Not again. Not again not again not again! He’s gotta come save me, take me home, he’s gotta! Shit, not again!“ he choked and broke off with a shout and another full body jerk.

Tim was jostled but didn’t fall off, by some miracle. “Jason!” he tried. “Listen to me!” Tim put his hands on either of Jason’s face. Jason flinched away from Tim’s touch with a sob of “It hurts, it hurts, I can hear all my bones snapping, I’m dying, it’s crushing me, I can’t--I can’t--”

“I know,” Tim cut him off gently, “I know it hurts and--and you’re scared, but you’re not alone, I’m right here. I’m going to help you,” Tim tried to catch Jason’s focus.

Jason’s roaming eyes stopped dodging around the room, and turned towards Tim. He kept looking from Tim’s shoulders, Tim’s chest, back up to his face and then to his eyes and back to his chest again. Perhaps not the ideal image of calming down but it was a first step.

“Good,” Tim praised softly in relief. He ran his thumbs over Jason’s cheeks gently. Now more so than ever did Tim take notice of the scars on either side of Jason’s face. On Jason’s left cheek, there was a jagged line that traced from his cheek bone down to his jaw. A similar yet smaller one was mirrored on Jason’s right. Tim could understand why Jason flinched from him. He shook the thought from his mind, “See? We’re okay. Just try to breathe, in and out. You can do that, right, Jason?”

“No! No! I c-can’t, I’m crushed, I can’t. My--my lungs, they’re all full of blood, and mud, and dirt, and fuckin’ I dunno what!” Another violent thrash went through Jason’s body, almost toppling Tim off this time. “I can’t breathe, it hurts! I want it to stop hurting! How do I make it stop!?”

“Uah--yeah, I know it hurts, but I promise nothing is crushing you. It’s just me, I’m light, and I’m here and I--I know it hurts I’m going to try to make it stop but I need to--” Jason thrashed, but Tim didn’t relinquish his hold on him, “--but I NEED you to stay still!”

Jason’s eyes finally locked on to Tim’s, “M-make it s-stop?” he echoed back to the smaller vigilante.

“Yeah, yeah I’m going to try to make it stop.” Tim slowly pulled his hands away from Jason, sitting back slightly, starting to fish through the many pockets and pouches attached to the strap around his waist.

He almost always had the antidote on hand. Bruce had trained him and prepared him meticulously, making certain that Tim would be ready with everything they had at all costs. The only issue was it was enough antidote for him; almost seventeen, about a head shorter and ninety pounds lighter--nowhere near enough antitoxin for the two hundred and forty pounds of murder that was the shaking mass of Jason Todd slumped before him.

Jason dropped his head back against the concrete floor, beginning to mutter once again.

“My fault. All my fault. I can’t--all dead.”

“No one is dead, Jason, everyone is okay,” Tim said, soon after feeling a small surge of triumph as he located his field fear toxin antidote kit. He opened it, quickly pulling out a small vial, and a syringe.

Jason’s eyes snapped to the syringe in Tim’s hand as he filled with antidote. Jason grew quiet for a second before starting to try to fight Tim off of him, “No, no no no no no no! Don’t go! don’t go! Not again, I can’t be alone, can’t be asleep he’s gonna kill us. Dad said he’ll get rid’f his mistakes!”

Tim knew Bruce wouldn’t have ever threatened Jason like that. He could only assume Jason meant his biological father.

“Said he would--don’t, don’t! It’s crushing me I can’t be alone!” Jason couldn’t keep hold of his own fears. They ran together, all mixed in to become some dread filled nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Tim was lucky Jason was so sloppy in this state. If he’d had a bit more of his wits about him, Tim figured Jason would’ve easily shaken him off already.

“You aren’t alone!” Tim reminded Jason, struggling to inject Jason without hurting him. “This is going to make it stop, I promise!” Well, that wasn’t fully true. But the dose would reduce it.

When Jason wouldn’t hold still enough for him to properly gauge where the vein he needed was, Tim unceremoniously jabbed at where he hoped it was instead.

Jason shouted, thrashing around like a heavy shark in a net being lifted out of water.

Tim pulled the empty syringe away quickly, letting Jason throw him off. He stumbled and crashed back down, landing on the concrete floor a few feet away. Tim only now realized how heavy his breath was as he watched Jason writhe freely on the floor before him. As Tim caught his breath, Jason’s movements gradually began to slow. The mutterings of fear faded into soft whimpers, then into deep breaths like Tim’s. Tim bit at his lip again. “Jason?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Jason groaned in response. He took a moment to collect himself as he grew conscious of reality again. Really, reality was a shit hole too, but it was a better shit hole. He shifted slightly, cussing under his breath.

Tim felt an invisible weight lift from his shoulders; swearing like a sailor was promising in Jason’s case.

He quickly scooted across the floor to him.

“Hey,” Tim said in a hushed voice. “Jason? How you feeling?”

Jason--with what felt like the struggle of Sisyphus rolling his boulder for the millionth time--rolled over to face him. The white shock of hair stuck to Jason’s forehead with panic induced sweat. He puffed out a lungful of air in a feeble attempt to blow the hair from his face. Jason swiftly gave up on that and swallowed heavily.

“I-I... yeah, yeah, I uh... I--okay. I’m feeling okay,” Jason rambled, looking dazed. He took up scanning the room again, hyper-vigilant to any danger.

Tim nodded slowly. He grabbed a water bottle that was shoved in one of his many pouches. He helped Jason sit up, just enough so he could sip at the water, and forced the bottle into Jason’s hands.

“Drink,” Tim ordered, quietly.

Jason’s hands still shook lightly, causing him to fumble with the cap in his hands.

Now that the danger had passed, Tim finally had time to process what had happened; he often found himself acting and only having time to absorb the details afterwards. Details like that Jason had traded his safety and immunity for Tim’s.

Why did Jason do that?

“Not... that I’m ungrateful,” Tim began hesitantly, “but that was a stupid thing to do, just… now- today,” he stumbled out awkwardly.

“I know,” gasped Jason after a long chug of water, a weak smile on his lips.

“I mean--it’s like in those before flight messages on planes. Put your mask on before the baby’s or whatever,” Tim joked slightly. Tim’s nose wrinkled slightly, cringing just the tiniest bit as he realized he implied he was the baby in this situation, “Well, you know what I’m getting at…”

Jason seemed to only take even more amusement out of the teen’s regret. Tim never thought he’d see the day where he felt tension draining at the sigh of Jason Todd, a man that tried to kill him and about eighty other people, smiling.

Jason laughed weakly, though it came out a little haltingly, as the shivering shakes hadn’t yet subsided. “Yeah, well, I d-did have my mask on. I just... gave it to the k-kid before the plane went down,” he mused. He didn’t really believe in his own point, and shook his head.

“No, no you’re right. It was stupid and I know that.”

They fell into a slightly awkward silence for a second, the burning question still gnawing at Tim’s mind.

“Why?” Tim said, abruptly. “Er, why did you do that? If you knew it was stupid?”

Jason didn’t answer for a long moment. Instead stalling by taking another swig of water. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before answering.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted, with a little smile.

Jason was breathing heavily, but seemed more focused, “I didn’t... really think. Maybe I was just makin’ up for other stuff I f-fucked up or... dunno. I guess I j-just... I knew if one of us was gonna be safe, it had to be y-ou.”

Jason swore he could practically see the little loading sign twirl in Tim’s nerd-brain as the teen processed what he’d said. The mental loading bar filled, and Jason’s words seemed to click. Tim’s eyes dropped away, and he smiled a little shyly. Not an awkward or uncomfortable smile. Just complimented.

“Thanks,” Tim’s voice was just above a whisper, “ that was... really nice of you.”

“It’s okay, don’t men-ention it. Like literally ever. It’ll ruin my rep,” Jason cracked a teasing smirk once again and Tim got to his feet laughing lightly.

“Annnnddd he’s back to normal,” Tim chuckled and offered Jason a hand. Tim yanked him, not without obvious difficulty, up to stand tall. Jason leaned on him for a moment before straightening, keeping a hand on Tim’s shoulder to steady himself. Tim quickly bent down and scooped up their masks from the floor where he’d set them down.

“Let’s get you home,” Tim hummed, putting Jason’s arm around his shoulders again when he stood.

“Hey, I’m fin-ne, you don’t have to take me back,” Jason argued, but Tim was already starting to lead him away.

“Too bad, I decided I am.”

“Rep-placement Robin number whatever you are--I am fine!”

“Sure you are, that’s why you can’t stand up right by yourself?”

“Shut up!”

“I speak only truth.”

The two bickered all the way back through away from the docks. All the way back through the city. All the way until they reached Jason’s apartment complex. Then they bickered some more. Though neither knew it yet, what had begun forming was the beginning of a close bond. One that nothing would be able to break.

#batman #robin #jason todd #redhood #red hood #Tim Drake #red robin #batfam big bang 2021 #Just for Fun #idk how tumblr works

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tobesobri · 4 years

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Nervous

the one where Y/N might be insane but Harry is definitely a shy nervous idiot. (~7k)

thank you @ anon for requesting this! I tried to do it justice, but I’ve honestly never written Harry this way so 😬hopefully it’s decent. Apart from this being probably the only request i’ve ever done, this is also my first piece of one-off writing i’ve posted in a long time, so I do really hope yall enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you to @fromyourstrulyh @aileenacoustic & @smokeinherperfume for beta reading and just generally being incredible ❤️As always, your feedback, thoughts or just a reblog are super appreciated!!

The busy conversation could not overpower the way the sun felt on Y/N’s skin. Sometimes it burned a little too hot, but other times it felt just right and she found herself basking in it, ignoring all her friends a few times too many. She knew if they were any further inland from the beach, the hot L.A. sun would be completely unbearable, but the breeze that swooshed through the courtyard every so often was enough to make the weather practically perfect.

She no longer regretted going for one of her summer dresses that had straps and a shorter hemline. Her other options had been one with sleeves or a midi skirt, but either of those would have left her boiling, even if she only had her bathing suit on underneath. The last thing she needed when seeing all her friends again was to be sweating buckets.

Especially in front of Harry.

She couldn’t remember when he’d first joined their ever-growing group, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. He was nice to look at, which was just about all she ever did because he wasn't a man of many words. All of their conversations burnt out within a couple minutes. She never had any idea what to say to him because frankly, he intimidated her. All of her friends had various connections to Hollywood, but he was most definitely the most famous person she knew. So knowing what to even say to Harry was a whole other obstacle than just simply being acquainted with him.

But she did like to look at him whenever she could get away with it. Particularly when he was chatting with someone else and she obsessed over the way his dimples went in and out of his cheeks every time he smiled. If she wasn’t staring at his face and admiring the freckles or how green his eyes were in the sun, she shamelessly watched his hands. Whether it was while he articulated them in conversation, or while he picked up his sandwich to take another bite, she couldn’t take her eyes away from them.

She wanted nothing more than for him to just have a normal fucking conversation with her like he did with everyone else.

“Hey.” Mel nudged her elbow into Y/N’s side, forcing her eyes away from Harry for the first time in the past three minutes. “Do you want to share a slice of chocolate cake?”

And for the first time since they’d sat down, something other than Harry piqued her interest. With enough sparkle in her eyes to blind someone, Y/N nodded eagerly. “That shouldn’t even be a question.”

Mel shrugged and looked over the dessert menu again to pick out the right slice of chocolate cake between a plain one, one filled with fudge in the middle, and one packed with triple chocolate--whatever that meant.

Trev, who sat beside Harry and right across from Y/N, folded his arms and leaned onto the table, “So Mel, how’s it going with that guy, uh… Alan?”

Mel rolled her eyes but kept them glued to her options of chocolate cakes, “It’s Adam.”

“Does it matter?”

Y/N bit back a smile and sat against her seat, waiting for the typical show between Trev and Mel where he let his jealousy spew out like boiling hot lava and made fun of whatever dude she was seeing all because he was too up his own ass to just ask her out. It was entertaining for the whole table, though, and especially for Y/N.

It was then, in the heat of Mel’s insults about Trev’s own miserable love life, that Y/N and Harry shared a glance, and only a glance because it was so quick, she thought she was imagining things. Just the familiar green of his irises burned into her eyelids was enough to know it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. She’d been snickering at the two in front of her when she blinked over at him, possibly because he had already been looking at her. As soon as she did, however, within less than a second he’d looked away. She would take it, and the way it made her entire insides feel like they were being electrocuted, and run with it though. He’d looked at her for the first time all afternoon and she just might gain the courage to try and talk to him again. If he would let her of course.

She thought about their last conversation and how it seemed like centuries ago, but also may have been the reason he hadn’t said a word to her today yet. A smaller portion of their group had gone to LACMA on an off day so it wasn’t as busy. She tried to talk to him about the Diego Rivera painting he’d been standing in front of which he had humorously mistaken for Frida Kahlo. Looking back on it though, she cringed at the way she’d laughed at his mistake because he probably didn’t find it all that funny. He had still laughed right along with her, as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment and he tried to find a quick escape to avoid interacting with her again on their museum trip--which he had done, successfully.

He knew Diego Rivera from Frida Kahlo, though, he wasn’t stupid, but whenever she was around and he had to communicate with her, he turned into a big dumb pile of mush who wouldn’t be able to tell his left foot from his right. He had never been so fucking nervous around someone in his entire life, and so naturally, he no clue what to make of her.

The bickering between Mel and Trev died down when their waitress returned to take dessert orders as a busboy collected dirty dishes. Although dessert was Y/N’s favorite part of every meal, she found herself pouting at the thought of their afternoon passing by a lot quicker than she expected it to.

The topic of discussion shifted once the sweets all arrived and suddenly they were all going on about Tiger King conspiracies that Y/N knew jack shit about, but still listened intently as if she did. She asked a dumb question every once in a while, which made everyone at the table groan in frustration. Eventually, though, they got onto more topics she didn’t understand the references to so she gave up.

Instead, she found herself eyeing Harry’s sampler of various cookies, particularly his painted fingers as he broke off pieces and popped them in his mouth. He had had black nail polish on at some point, but most of it had chipped off by now. The rings he usually wore to excess had dwindled down to just one on his middle finger. She missed them, even though she was sure his poor hands were in desperate need of a break from all the jewelry. His tattoos were on full display now, soaking up all the sun they could after being under long sleeve sweaters all winter. The black ink stood out against his slightly tanned skin, and especially against the red, floral print flowy button up he wore. She felt like it’d been ages since she saw him in something so casual, but they were all headed to the beach soon after all.

“Do you want some?” When she heard his voice, her eyes shot up to his face, realizing she’d been caught. Realizing he was looking at her and speaking to her because she’d been staring at his fucking hands not the cookies.

Since she couldn’t let him know about that, she nodded, “Uh sure.”

She felt even worse about taking a half of a chocolate chip cookie from him when he reached across the table and his poor, beautiful hand collided with her half-full cocktail glass that instantly dumped all over the table. It caught everyone’s attention when the glass broke and quickly Y/N and Trev grabbed napkins to soak up the liquid before it reached their laps while Val saved their plates.

Harry hid his face in his hands after placing the half of a cookie down on his plate again, utterly embarrassed by himself. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled between his fingers after dragging his hands down his face dramatically to see the mess he’d made.

“Literally the clumsiest fucker I know, you know that?” Trev said while sopping up the rest of her drink and discarding the used napkins on an empty plate. Val called over their waitress once she was close enough to help deal with the broken glass.

“Can I buy you another one?” Harry asked, his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him again and it was definitely not from the sun. He looked embarrassed and apologetic and she was positive he felt stupid because she knew she would in his place, but it made her sad that he thought any of that when it was just a silly mistake.

Harry definitely would not have minded sinking into oblivion right there and then.

“No it’s alright, wasn’t that good of a drink anyways.” She shrugged, easing his nerves just a tad, but he still felt horrible.

“I’ll pay for that one then.” He concluded, not giving her a chance to shoot him down this time, however. And when the checks came long after Harry’s incident that gave him plenty of time to recover, she didn’t have much say in it either when he snatched up her check before the waitress could even hand it to her.

Y/N could easily pay for herself, but if Harry insisted she wasn’t going to argue. It was his way of feeling better about the situation and she’d leave it be, even if it did bug her that he said he’d pay for her drink, not her entire bill. She kept her mouth shut, however, and just gave him a mean look so at least he knew she wasn’t happy about it, even if she had no intentions to stop him.

She escaped to the restroom while everyone wrapped up, knowing she’d have to go the second she got near the ocean later and she did not want to use the disgusting public bathrooms at the beach. They were always full of sand, salty water, and smelled ten times fishier than normal.

Her confidence was at an all time high when she looked in the mirror, wondering if it had been the sun or Harry to do it to her, but either way it really didn’t matter. She felt like she was on a cloud and like nothing could touch her or bring her back down.

Except, of course, when she walked back out to reality and realized everyone had already made their ways to the Malibu coastline. Sighing, she pulled her phone from her little crossbody bag and walked towards the main entrance. Before she got too far into her Uber app, she glanced up at a familiar shade of bright red floral print standing near the doors and instantly floated back up to the clouds.

“Did everyone leave?” She asked once she walked up to Harry. He held onto a cardboard box of leftovers in one hand and his keys in the other. His sunglasses, that were previously perched on the neck of his shirt, had made their way to the top of his head, pushing his hair back from his face.

He nodded. “I, um… I didn’t know if you had a ride, or...?” He stumbled and she wasn’t sure why, but it was cute nonetheless, especially since she initially had the impression that Harry would be a little more self-assured than he was turning out to be. That was what she liked best about him though, that he tripped over his words and confused artists and spilled drinks.

She held up her phone in her hands and smiled, “I’m getting an Uber.”

He furrowed his brows, but she didn’t notice when she resumed picking out the cheapest option on the app to take her down PCH as she maneuvered around him and stepped back out into the warm summer afternoon.

He followed quickly, nearly tripping over himself and then cleared his throat, “Well, um, I’ve got a car.”

She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder while she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of car?”

He had no clue why she’d asked him that, but given the little smirk on her lips, he had an inkling that if he didn’t have the right kind of car, she’d prefer to stick with her Uber options. What he was positive about, however, was that he’d never liked her more than he did right there in the parking lot as she planned on roasting his choice of transportation.

“Uhm...” He glanced around the lot until he found his car and then pointed it out, “that one.”

Her eyes fell to a bright yellow, convertible 1972 Ferrari Dino and she tried her best to not let him see the way her jaw practically hit the asphalt beneath their flip flops. Instead, she swallowed, stood up straight, faced him, and put her phone away.

“That will do.”

The surface streets were quiet, even though she’d forced him to put the top down while they drove. They were boring, too. She wanted to throw her hands up and feel the air between her fingers and flowing through her hair. Instead, they were stuck at every single red light imaginable on the short trip it took to get to the highway.

“How long have you had this car?” She asked once they’d stopped again, making herself at home in his passenger seat as she rested her elbow up on the door where the window would normally be if she hadn’t rolled it down the second he started the engine.

“Mm,” He thought, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger while his other hand clung tightly to the top of the steering wheel, enough so that she could see the whites of his knuckles. Was he nervous? Did he not like to drive with the top down? Or did he just not like to drive with her constantly staring at him?

“Couple years probably,” he answered finally while adjusting the radio to turn some music on and she took that as her cue to leave him alone. Maybe he was nervous because he liked to focus on the road while driving and not on her silly questions.

They got up to about twenty-miles-an-hour now while he flipped through stations, his eyes bouncing between the console and the road. He tuned the radio until she wrapped her hand around his forearm.

“Sorry, I just,” she let go of him after he gave her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read. He could have been mad at her for touching him for all she knew. “I really like this song.”

He moved both hands to the steering wheel as he sat back into his seat. He’d never heard the song before, but if she liked it then he’d leave it on. They drove for a bit longer until he heard her softly singing along and glanced over at her. He’d only meant to look for less than a second, but when she met his gaze, he got a little too distracted.

Her eyes darted out the windshield and her sudden, “Harry!” caused him to slam on the breaks, luckily just seconds before he managed to rear-end a Honda Civic. He was positive his hunk of metal would have done quite some damage.

“Shit,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair to shift it back into place as his heart raced a million miles.

Then, of course, it was racing for other reasons when he heard her giggling from beside him and once he was done freaking out, he joined in. He was such a fucking idiot but it apparently had made her laugh, so… silver lining?

Once they were on the highway, he no longer felt as tense. The wind from the ocean beside them blew his hair in every direction as he got up to the speed of traffic and she watched his hands as they shifted gears. She let her eyes, and her mind, wander while staring at his tattooless arm and the way the muscles flexed under his skin. It gave her that dangerous self-confidence all over again.

He heard her seatbelt click and immediately shot his eyes over to see what the actual fuck she was doing taking it off while he was going over sixty miles an hour. An all new reason to be anxious filled his entire nervous system as he watched her, through various quick glances, standing up in his passenger seat with no care in the world about flying out. As if he hadn’t already nearly caused an accident, here she was trusting him enough not to do it again.

Her skirt flew up in the breeze but she didn’t really care too much about that either, and neither did Harry. When she finally managed to peel her hands off the windshield, she threw them up and shouted at the top of her lungs, forcing nothing but a huge cheesy grin onto Harry’s face even though he wanted to pull over and kick her out for doing what she was doing and nearly giving him an aneurism.

She sat back down within seconds though, and his blood pressure settled at a more normal pace when she had her seatbelt secured around herself again.

“Wouldn’t have offered you a ride had I know you were going to do that!” He shouted over the sound of the wind.

“I’m in a Ferrari on PCH, you should have expected it!”

He shook his head at her as he glanced over his shoulder to switch lanes and make his off-ramp. She was fucking nuts. And he was a fucking idiot.

They sat in the parking lot together for a moment, staring out at the ocean, after he put the top up, closed the windows, and cut the engine. She was still coming down off of whatever high possessed her to stand up mid-freeway and he was trying not to act like a complete fool being alone with her again where it was quiet and they weren’t moving anymore.

“How come we never talk much?” She asked him before either of them could even think about getting out of the car and joining their friends down on the sand.

He stared straight ahead at the waves for a moment as he thought about why they weren’t as close as he wished they were and that it might be his fault. He just never knew what to say to her to not completely embarrass himself. Within the past hour, it was clear he still hadn’t figured it out.

He sighed, “Probably because you stand up in cars and make me nervous.” He didn’t realize, however, how his words would be twisted until she did so.

“Oh, so we don’t talk because I make you nervous?” She teased with a smirk but she clearly had no idea how right she was about that. Or maybe she did have some idea about it.

Either way, he tensed up realizing he had, yet again, said some dumb shit and went and embarrassed himself again.

“I’m kidding,” she assured when he remained quiet, “I just think we should talk more.” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress and it most definitely did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Then maybe one day you’ll let me drive your Ferrari and you can stand up.”

The breeze dropped several degrees as they walked through the sand to their friends, who were already set up with a few chairs and an ice chest full of wine coolers. It was a nice relief from the burning afternoon sun, but Y/N still regretted not packing a sweater.

As they walked together, someone made a whistling sound at them as if suggesting something had happened with her and Harry between the time it took them to get from the restaurant to the beach. It made him uneasy when everyone looked at them like they were amidst a walk of shame, and even more so when he glanced down at her to his side to see she was also slightly uncomfortable.

“What took you two so long?” Trev asked the second she and Harry reached their little set up. Everyone was already either taking their clothes off to run into the ocean, or securing their spots in the warm sand, nursing a bottle or two of alcohol.

Y/N squared her shoulders, “Harry almost caused an accident.”

His head whipped towards her so fast, he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck. It was one thing for her to know about his dumbassery, but everyone else didn’t have to be in on it too.

A couple of their friends giggled, making Harry scratch at the back of his neck nervously, shaking out his curls and hoping they didn’t all think he was the biggest imbecile alive for not knowing how to drive a car like that. Especially since he did know how to drive, his brain just didn't function the way it was supposed to when Y/N was around.

“Or maybe,” Trev leaned in suggestively glancing between the both of them before settling his eyes on Y/N, “Harry finally won you over with his Ferrari.”

She scrunched her face, trying to figure out what the fuck Trev meant by finally? Harry never tried winning her over at any point in the past. Hell, before today she had been afraid that he hated her, wondering tirelessly what she did to get on Harry Styles’ bad side.

When she glanced at Harry, she was relieved to find that he seemed just about as confused as she was. So it was just Trev being a slimy asshole as per usual.

She rolled her eyes and shoved Trev’s shoulder as she walked past him, eliciting an overly dramatic response as he held his shoulder like a ginormous baby and called her a bitch under his breath.

Both Harry and Trev watched as she lifted her dress over her head, tossed it and her purse into a chair full of other people’s clothes, and flashed Trev her middle finger while she glanced over her shoulder at him. Before she ran off to the water, however, her eyes found Harry just in time to see the way his eyes flickered back up to her face. She smiled knowingly at him just before taking off, hoping his gaze would find its way to her backside again as she did so.

And frankly, her bathing suit didn’t leave too much to the imagination. It was all held together with strings that could come undone with just a single tug from Harry’s hands. Her bottoms were definitely cheeky and her top… Harry should not be looking.

But he was, he constantly found his eyes gravitating towards her as he sat beside Trev on land while she played in the water with the others. He also found his fists clenching whenever one of the other guys in their group got a little too close. He should also not be jealous.

“You know,” Trev began, sitting back against his seat and resting his wine cooler on his knee, “we all know you’re infatuated with her…” Harry turned to look at Trev like he was insane, “except for her of course. Probably because you act like an idiot around her and she thinks there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

Harry really couldn’t disagree. He did act like he only had a handful of brain cells sometimes, but in his defense, he didn’t do it on purpose. He had no clue why he couldn’t operate properly whenever she was around. No one had ever done that to him, not a single person he ever found remotely attractive turned him into a helpless ball of nerves the way she did.

Sighing, Harry stared out at the horizon through his tinted sunglasses and mumbled grumpily. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Knew you were too good to be true,” Trev teased, assuming Harry was referring to there being something seriously wrong with him rather than being maybe a little bit infatuated with her.

Harry shook his head with an exasperated smile on his lips, “You’re a cunt.”

“Listen man,” Trev sat forward again, taking a swig of his drink, “She’s fucking insane sometimes, but if you like her…” He shrugged.

“How insane is she, exactly?” Harry asked, although he already had an inkling given her earlier actions in his car.

Trev snorted out a laugh, “Not like that. She’s just like… I don’t know. Does crazy shit. She was the first one to jump off this huge ass cliff when we went diving a few summers ago.” Trev reminisced fondly before laughing again when he recalled something else Y/N had done. “She got drunk off her ass at New Years and did a handstand in the middle of Gasolina.”

Although Harry didn’t know what Gasolina was, he still imagined how fucking hilarious that party must’ve been. She was the good kind of crazy, he assumed, not the kind that might chop off his fingers in his sleep.

“Besides, all she does is work and hang out with her dog.” Trev added, leaving Harry to wonder profusely about what kind of dog she had. He considered a dachshund at first, but maybe a chihuahua was more her speed.

“Anyways,” Trev sighed, settling into his seat again, “I just think you should stop acting like a twelve-year old and ask her out if you like her.”

Harry’s brows furrowed again, “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He watched as Trev’s eyes landed right on Mel, who had her arms around Y/N’s shoulders as they descended further into the ocean, and he sighed even deeper this time. “That’s way more complicated than the two of you.”

He never would have offered her a ride, no matter how much he liked her, when she’d first came up from the water and threw her dress back on. She was a wet, hot mess for a long while until they all packed up after they watched the sun set and it started getting dark. There was no way he was leaving her there to wait for an Uber by herself, however, once they’d gotten everything packed up into the back of Trev’s Jeep.

Not that she was pulling her phone out to scroll through the app or asking anyone else for a ride.

So, she wound up in his passenger seat again, staring at the sky as it mixed through various shades of peaches and purples until it turned a dark blue color and the stars started coming out as he drove. They listened to some oldies station while heading north on PCH and she never stopped looking at how beautiful the world was around her, especially the part of the world that sat right next to her as he drove silently with his sunglasses on top of his head again. He was cute when he focused, she thought.

When he reached her driveway, she really didn’t want him to leave yet. She’d even considered taking him the long way to her house and hoping he wouldn’t notice just to spend more time with him. She stared up at the stars still while they sat idly in her front yard until she looked over at Harry with a smile and he met her eyes curiously.

“Do you wanna meet my dog?”

She shivered as she closed the door behind Harry, locking it before returning her attention back to him. Seeing him planted into the familiar backdrop of her house felt weird, but it also swelled her stomach with a million butterflies.

“I’m gonna change real quick. The living room’s through there,” she pointed and he followed, “you can make yourself at home.”

While she disappeared up the stairs, he wandered hesitantly, removing his shoes before he walked onto the carpet in her living room. He sat down in the corner of her loveseat, taking in all the surroundings. Her house was nice and he thought about what she did for a living, trying to remember if it had ever come up in conversations before. He didn’t get too far lost in his thoughts and his wandering eyes when there was a sudden bang on the back door behind him followed quickly by loud and incessant barking.

When he looked out the windows that faced her backyard he realized she did not, in fact, have a dachshund or a chihuahua. She had a fucking pitbull.

Possibly even more fitting, and slightly less scarier than the chihuahua.

“Sorry,” she ran in the living room just then, in a pair of lounge shorts and a loose-fitting long sleeve, and went straight to the back door, “I promise Patrick’s not as mean as he sounds.”

“Patrick like… from Spongebob?” Harry asked as she unlocked the back door to let him in.

She grinned like Harry was the first one to automatically get the reference without her having to explain it, “He was a little bit dumb as a puppy.” She shrugged and opened the door and the tan-colored pitbull ran straight towards Harry, jumping on the couch and into his lap like they were already the best of friends.

Patrick got about ten licks to Harry’s poor face before Y/N got a hand in between and tried pulling the stubborn dog away. She apologized again and even though Harry assured her that it was okay, he still seemed highly uncomfortable. When she moved, hoping Patrick would stop molesting Harry with his tongue, she’d been horribly wrong and he went back in for more and Harry was far too polite to do anything about it himself besides making feeble attempts at pushing Patrick away awkwardly.

So, instead, she ran around the couch and pulled him off of Harry, squeezing herself between him and her dog. While Harry wiped off his face, she turned toward him once Patrick had settled down, “I swear he’s trained, he just… forgets boundaries sometimes.” She said the last bit through her teeth, directed specifically at Patrick while petting the dog on the head. He just continued to stare past her at Harry, panting and wagging his tail.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Harry assured her again. He really didn’t mind. Maybe a little, but it wasn’t the end of the world to have too much attention from a dog. Especially if it was her dog.

It was quiet for a moment before she perked up like she’d just remembered something, “Oh, do you want something to drink? I forgot to ask before.”

Harry didn’t really want her to leave just yet, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted her to. He could feel the nervous sweat on his forehead and his clammy hands and he just needed a moment to collect himself. So he nodded, “Sure,” and she bounced back up onto her feet and left him alone with Patrick.

While Harry had successfully wiped the sweat from his face on the back of his shirt and his hands on his jeans--and cupped said hand over his mouth to check his breath-- Patrick scooted right up to Harry’s side, curled into a ball, and rested his head on Harry’s lap. Which was the exact sight Y/N returned to moments later with a couple glasses of water in her hands.

“Guess he likes you, then.” She laughed lightly while handing one of the glasses to Harry and sat down on the other side of Patrick. It was a gap bigger than the one between them previously, but Harry was okay with that. Maybe he’d stop sweating so profusely from just being in her presence.

They were quiet again, but not for too long that it ever got awkward. Harry was sure, at this point, that Y/N was a professional at avoiding awkward silences with the way she said the most random shit right out of the blue.

“Do you like stand up?”

He looked at her like he had no clue what the fuck she was talking about, but in hindsight he should have known. In the moment, though, when she caught him off-guard, he literally could not fathom in his brain what she meant by stand up. So he just shrugged and mumbled, “I guess?”

She didn’t seem to notice his enormous brain fart when she reached forward to grab the remote from the coffee table a little too excitedly. And once she turned on Netflix and searched for John Mulaney, it clicked in his head. Maybe Trev had been right. Harry might just have something slightly wrong with him.

He’d never personally seen any of Mulaney’s stand up, but he’d heard the name and when Y/N mumbled that he was one of her favorite comedians, that’s all he needed to know about the guy. Harry would sit through hours of his stand up if it meant spending more time with her.

John Mulaney had already gotten a few giggles out of Harry within the first five minutes of The Comeback Kid and every single time it happened, Y/N glanced at him proudly as if she were the one telling the jokes and making Harry laugh.

She felt even more full of herself when John’s punchline about exes came seven minutes in and Harry nearly laughed his entire ass off at, ‘Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die.’

Actually, she was certain he’d done some damage to his body when Harry laughed so hard that he held a hand to his stomach, doubled over on the couch and choked on his own spit. She tried not to laugh at his reaction as she sat forward and grabbed his glass of water off the coffee table to hand it to him.

Her movements caused Patrick to get up and jump off of the couch, settling for a cool spot on the hardwood floors to stretch out on as he panted. Harry sipped on his water until he could breathe properly again.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “the dick jokes get me every time too.” Although she intended for it to make him feel better, his cheeks just burned twice as hot from the way she said dick so nonchalantly.

“Are there more dick jokes then?” He asked.

“There’s always more dick jokes to be made.” She confirmed, making him chuckle again. “So you’ll stay and laugh at them with me?”

He wasn’t sure at what point she’d gotten so close to him on the couch, but when she laughed and he felt her shoulder shake against his own, he quickly tensed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her closer, he just didn’t want to act like a complete fool again. And his reaction to just her touching his shoulder was enough to tell him foolery was on the horizon.

He also wasn’t sure when it became a given that he was staying to watch all of the John Mulaney specials on Netflix with her, but he wasn’t complaining. As long as he got to hear her laugh and imitate some of the jokes and weird voices John did, he was happy staying exactly where he was all night and, in fact, when she announced they’d burned through all of them, he was disappointed.

Even more so when she flipped the TV off and he wondered how much longer until she planned on saying goodbye and then who knows how long until they’d see each other again.

It was quiet, apart from Patrick’s snores, but not for long.

“I’m sorry I stood up in your car and made you nervous.”

He turned and met her eyes and she was very clearly not sorry about it, but he didn’t want her to be either. “S’alright.”

They stared at each other for a moment while he thought about what else she was going to say, if anything at all. But he should have known better than to assume she didn’t have anything else up her sleeve.

It was just that the next time she spoke there wasn’t the perpetual cute little grin on her face. Instead, she met him with a frown. “To be honest, Harry, I kinda thought you hated me before today.”

He scrunched his face, absolutely detesting that she ever thought that at all. “I don’t hate you.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

She tilted her head to the side while she looked at him and then gave him a reason why it wasn’t that ridiculous of an assumption on her part. “Then why do you always avoid me?”

He felt bad about the way he acted around her, especially since she had the wrong impression about it. He didn’t avoid her, he just didn’t know how to talk to her when he always acted like a neanderthal around her.

Sighing, he shuffled a bit in his seat as the anxious sweats really made themselves known. “You were right when you said we don’t talk because you make me nervous.”

She grew more confused by that, “You’re literally Harry Styles, how do I make you nervous?”

He shrugged, “Been trying to figure it out myself.”

Although he’d been avoiding her gaze like the plague, sure that he’d never be admitting any of this to her while looking right into her eyes, she still smiled sweetly at him. He was Harry fucking Styles, who got up on a stage more times than she could imagine and sang in front of thousands of people, but she made him nervous.

She took him off guard again. “Are you seeing anyone right now, Harry?”

His eyes quickly panned to her, wide and puzzled by her question. “No… wh--”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish after she’d gotten the only answer she wanted out of him and suddenly she was a lot closer than she’d ever been. In fact, there was no longer a single gap between them as she reached her hand up to his jaw and pulled his mouth down onto hers. Even though he didn’t know how to react at first, feeling her on his lips, his brain swelled with all the good kinds of chemical reactions and he kissed her back, wiping his hand on his jeans again before he touched it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in his palm softly.

Normally, he’d be the one making the first move, but he didn’t really mind it being the other way around with her. Who knows if they ever would have gotten to this point if they’d waited for him to make the first move, after all.

He definitely didn’t mind it when she swiped her tongue across his lower lip and positioned herself into his lap. His head had fallen back into the cushions while she straddled him and got a little too carried away, but, again, he didn’t mind it. He fed off of her energy until he was slipping hesitant hands down her waist and on her backside, making her moan into his mouth that both felt and sounded like heaven.

Heaven. He was in heaven and this completely bizarre angel was in his lap, making out with him on her couch and rubbing herself all up on him in ways that were so very unheavenly.

Neither of their dopamine infused brains registered the sound of Patrick’s collar when it was vastly more important to focus on the way she giggled around his mouth and how his tongue felt swirling around with hers.

However, when he jumped up on the couch beside them and began licking Y/N’s face, she snapped back to reality for a moment. Pulling away from Harry with a whine, she sat back on his knees and wiped the slobber with the back of her hand while she stared over at Patrick.

“Can I help you?”

Patrick did some whining of his own while he dug his paw towards her, begging for attention. So she gave it to him, petting his head and scratching his ears while Harry watched, still very aware of his hands on her hips and her free hand leaning on his shoulder.

“Crazy dog,” she muttered mostly to herself while Patrick laid down next to them.

“Like his owner,” Harry teased, mostly just to bring her attention back to him.

It worked too as she pinged her eyes back to Harry as fast as humanly possible and faked offense, “You think I’m crazy?”

“You asked me to meet your dog and then somehow hooked me into staying for three hours to watch John Mulaney specials and then completely out of nowhere… ended up here.” He nodded his head down at their current positioning with her still perched on his lap.

It took her a moment, but she fully realized what she had done soon enough. And once she did, she was quick to apologize. “Shit, Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to--”

Before she managed to get much further away from him in failed attempts of removing her foolish self from his lap, he grabbed hold of her wrists and brought her hands up to either side of his head, pulling her as close as she’d been before with just an inch or so gap between their lips this time.

“I think that’s why you make me nervous,” He admitted softly and after glancing between both her wary eyes, his gaze landed on her lips just moments before he stretched upwards to meet them with his again.

They fell back into place completely, except this time, she’d gone as far as to undo all the buttons on his shirt while she made out with him on her couch. Once it was open and she had full range of his chest, she pulled away from him again and watched his body rise and fall quickly as he caught his breath. She traced her fingertips over his butterfly tattoo, and like magic formed a few of them in his stomach while he watched her through heavy eyelids.

When their eyes met again, she smiled excitedly. “Does this mean I can drive your car now?”

#100% rewatched the comeback kid in the middle fo writing this jnjvf #but im really happy and proud with how it turned out so im excited!!#kinda longer than i expected it to be but oh well #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #shy!harry

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prettyricky187 · 4 years

Text

Devil Incarnate

Request: No- I was just feeling some type of way

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and commented on Reid To Me? It is very much appreciated. I hope you like this one as well. Requests are open.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader Category: Smut, just straight smut Content Warnings: public sex, oral (male receiving), porn without plot Word Count: 2.2K

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I swear I was in love with the devil incarnate. She got her entertainment from teasing me and making me flustered at the most inopportune moments. Even now, as we waited for our takeaway to be ready, she was standing in front of me, scrolling on her phone while casually circling her hips against my steadily growing erection.

“Stop moving.” I grunted quietly.

“Why? Is it bothering you?” She grinned up at me. I looked at her with a look that she knew all too well. It was the look that said I knew what she was up to, but refused to partake. She always took it as a challenge.

“Stop,” was all I said but it was only met with a giggle as my name was called.

We had almost made it to the car when she dragged me into the nearby alleyway. She backed me against the wall, pressing herself flush against me. Her lips were like a fucking drug, drawing me in despite the risks involved. The euphoria derived from her kisses was worth whatever consequences would follow. My hands framed her face as I kept her close to me. I could never get enough of her. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

There were always butterflies in my stomach whenever she touched me, but feeling her fingers drag across the skin above my pants sent them into a flurry that would’ve knocked me off my feet had I not been leaning against the wall.

She dropped the bag and made quick work of my belt. She silenced my protests with a harsh kiss when I felt my pants being opened. The sound of the buckle moving around rung out in the quiet air, making it obvious what was happening; as if my pants being mid-thigh wasn’t obvious enough.

“What are you doing? We can’t do this!” I whispered, looking around at all the different ways this poorly thought out plan could go wrong. This was a bad idea.

“Come on Spencer, live a little.” She giggled as she brought her hand to palm at my bulge.

“There are plenty of ways to live that don’t involve us getting arrested for indecent exposure or lewd acts in public!” I couldn’t help the rise in pitch of my voice as the nerves set in.

“The longer you argue with me, the longer you’re out here in your underwear.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” I mumbled against her lips. I felt her grin when I bucked my hips into her hand, desperate for more friction. I hissed at the way she trailed a finger along the outline of my erection through my underwear.

“What a way to go, am I right?” She teased, dipping her finger under the band. She giggled as my cock bounced out once she pulled my briefs down.

“You’re already so hard. Is that for me?” She asked innocently, like she hadn’t been torturing me for the past 15 minutes and 46 seconds; grinding on my erection in the restaurant then giggling to herself whenever I shifted to try and hide it.

“You already know it is.” I growled, watching her closely. She smiled and began slowly lowering herself to her knees. Any protests I had died on my lips as her intentions became clearer.

“What…what are you doing?”

Logically, I knew where her actions would lead, but I couldn’t believe she would really try this in public. Anyone could walk by at any point and we would be in so much trouble.

“And you say you’re a genius.” She smirked without stopping. Goosebumps rose when her hot breath met the already flushed skin of my hips. “Keep an eye out. I’d hate for us to be interrupted.”

Once she was eye level with my dick, she placed a pert kiss on the tip.

“Oh fuck.” I moaned at the sensation. The sight of her on her knees before me was always something to marvel at. Although it seemed as though I was the one in control, the man towering over the woman, we both knew she held the power in this situation. I would always do anything she asked of me.

“That’s better.” She smirked up at me as she gently placed strategic kisses against my skin. I kept waiting for her to actually dosomething, but she kept avoiding the place where I needed her the most. Each kiss sent shockwaves throughout my body, building the anticipation to unbearable levels.

“Don’t tease me.”

She grinned, continuing to press kisses along the sides, purposely ignoring my aching tip. She was a fucking tease and I loved it, but I also really hated it. She was truly the devil.

“I would never.” The look that accompanied her lie was sinful. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she relished in it; knowing that she could get me so wound up to the point that I snapped at her. It was a game to her, and I’d dare say it was one of her favorites.

“Then put your fucking mouth on me.” I ordered, pressing my hand on the back of her head. We didn’t have much time; the alley would only be empty for so long. As hot as this was, I really wasn’t keen on actually getting caught.

“So impatient.”

The initial warmth that spread through me as she wrapped her lips around me was always pure bliss. I let out a loud moan as my head hit the brick wall behind me, so distracted that I couldn’t even care about who might walk by and hear us. Her mouth tightened around me and I stifled a low groan, the little that remained of the logical part of my brain desperately trying not to draw any further attention to us.

Fuck she was way too good at this; she always knew how to turn me into putty for her.

“Lick it.”

I watched with rapt attention as she maintained eye contact, sticking her tongue out and sloppily licking at the tip before gliding her mouth along the underside of my dick.

“Fuck,” I hissed, “lick the tip.”

My instruction spurred her on. My abdomen clenched as she took more of me in before swirling her tongue around my tip like it was her favorite flavor ice cream cone. The heat from her tongue followed by the immediate cold from the night air was a conflicting sensation that felt beyond words.

“Please,” I begged, “I need more.” I bucked my hips as I spoke, needing more of her mouth on me. I couldn’t help it; I wanted my dick down her throat. Every time I tried to push further into her mouth, she would pull away with that damned smirk.

After a moment of the cat and mouse game, I finally put my hands on her head to keep her steady as I buried myself inside her mouth. I decidedly ignored her mumbled comment about how bossy I was as I lolled my head back, just losing myself in the sensations of the wet warmth surrounding my cock.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. Fucking…take it!” I bucked my hips forward and down her throat. As ordered, she took each thrust in stride before pulling off of me to breathe. The sight of the string of saliva that connected my tip to her lips was downright filthy, and I brought my thumb down to trace the side of her mouth. I was usually fairly thankful for my eidetic memory, but never more so than now, because it meant that I would never forget how she looked in that moment.

“You taste so good, Spencer.” She moaned, moving her hand up and down my dick. “I missed your cock, especially in my mouth. Been too long since I’ve gotten to suck you off.”

I couldn’t help the moan that escaped me at her words. I always loved her telling me how much she wanted me. Knowing that she wanted me was enough to make me feel proud as a peacock.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Cases took me away from home far too often, but thankfully she understood and never held it against me. I loved her immensely for it. She shook her head and took me back in her mouth, bobbing at a steady pace. It wasn’t until she could feel my thighs tense before she pulled off once again.

“You gonna cum for me Spencer?” She asked, using her hand to jack me off in the absence of her mouth. “You want to cum on my face?”

Oh fuck; my heart stopped as I recalled an image of her face painted in my cum. That seemed like an incredibly appealing option. However, since I didn’t want to make a mess without a way to clean it up, that would have to wait for another day.

“You better put me back in your mouth. You’re not wasting this.”

The noise she made was halfway between a moan and a squeak, but she complied and wrapped her lips around me again. I watched in awe as she sloppily sucked on me. I’m sure some of the noises she made weren’t necessary, but fuck if they weren’t music to my ears. The combination of slurps and moans was enough to bring me even closer to the edge. She knew how to hit on each one of my senses to make it an all-consuming event every time.

“So fucking good. Always make me feel so good.” I knew she picked up on the tension in my voice. “Always look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

She let out a pleased moan and bobbed her head faster. My toes curled in my shoes as sparks shot up my spine as I neared my end.

“Stop.” I put my hands on the sides of head and held her still. “I want to fuck your face.”

The grin she returned told me she'd known exactly what I was going to say before I had even said it. I slowly began thrusting into her mouth, moaning as she kept swirling her tongue around me. I couldn’t help but moan at how slick everything felt as I slid past her lips. I sheathed myself particularly deep and held still for a moment, grunting at the feeling of her contracting around me before pulling back out. I felt my abdomen clench as I realized how wet my balls were, not doubt the spit that dribbled out as I fucked her face.

I stared at her face, unshed tears in her eyes and her wet lips, while I used my hand on myself. She practically whimpered, trying to lean forward to take me back in her mouth, but I held her back with my other hand.

“Don’t be greedy.” I chided, shaking my head.

“This was my idea.” Her eyes didn’t leave my hand and I could see the desire to be in its place. “Please.”

Oh, that breathy plea always did something to me; I could never say no to it.

Without saying anything, I let go of my cock and brought her head back down.

“You really do love my dick, don’t you?” I grunted. She moaned and nodded, swirling her tongue around as she sucked. Fuck, I loved her tongue.

“Suck it.” I moved my hips faster. I could almost imagine I was fucking her. “So good.” Everything was so warm, wet, and tight that I couldn’t take it any longer.

My jaw dropped as my orgasm hit me like freight truck, but I could hardly muster a sound. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I tried to get as deep in her throat as I could possibly go; it never felt like enough. My fingers threaded through her hair and pulled her flush against me as I shot my load down her throat. She made no noises of complaint as my hips rutted against her face with the aftershocks. The reality of what we’d just done crashed into me as I looked at the garbage dump mere feet from her.

“You are…evil.” I breathed out, drunkenly eying her in my post-orgasmic haze while she stood up with a salacious grin. “You’re the actual devil.”

“You love me.”

I nodded in agreement because she wasn’t wrong. I watched as she fixed my pants before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. Such a loving action after such a filthy moment, that I couldn’t help but laugh at the juxtaposition.

“What?” Her smile was so sweet and lovely.

“I can’t believe you just sucked me off in an alleyway.”

I didn’t even want to think about how many risks we had taken just then. The fact that anyone could’ve walked by and seen us, never mind the amount of trouble that I could’ve gotten in, was something that we would never mention again.

“I can’t believe you let me.” She countered almost immediately. We both knew I was powerless to stop her, nor did I want to. “Don’t lie though, I know you enjoyed yourself.”

Well she wasn’t wrong there.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer x reader

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theoldestsportsy · 2 years

Text

Some Henry and Jack lore !!

(I wrote this last night as I was bored, but please keep in mind that like I said, it was overnight, so I was a bit/very fuckin' tired!! Please also know that there might be some gruesome topics and swearing!) Henry stood in front of his orange-colored companion, and father figure, Jack. He was repairing his suit for him, though the silence in the room bothered Henry quite a bit, so he decided to try and strike up a conversation, "Jack?" the magenta man spoke. "What is it now, Henry?" Jack said aloud, sounding a bit impatient with Henry. "I- I hear you mumbling things about your family sometimes.. what's with that..?" Henry said, knowing Jack wouldn't take too kindly to this topic, but he had to come out about it eventually. "..." Jack stayed silent for a moment before letting the wrench in his hand go, placing it aside. "..Jack?" Henry asked, breaking the silence once again. "Fine, if you really want to know, Henry.." Jack spoke again, frustrated, wondering why Henry was so intrigued in his families history. Henry's strange grimace turned into a slight grin. "It all started when the three of my siblings, Dee, Peter and I were born. Only about seven or so years later, our parents unfortunately passed-" Jack was about to continue, until Henry interrupted, "Oh I- I'm so sorry, Jack." "There is no need to apologize, Henry. It wasn't your fault, after all. Any how, because of this, I had gotten myself a job, while, of course, Peter watched after our youngest sister, Dee." Jack stopped for a moment to let Henry process and figure out his opinion on this. "Aww, how sweet, you all worked together like an actual family!" Henry's grin widened. "Don't get so cocky, Henry, for this story doesn't have such a "happy ending"." Jack stated, ruining Henry's happiness. "One day, Peter brought Dee with him to the diner, wanting to show her our high quality animatronic suits and all. It all went pretty well until they both sat down, moments later Dee had seemed to have wandered off the moment Peter took his eyes off of her. Somehow she'd found her way over to the security office, for some random reason she wanted to go inside the office. Upon entering, the door malfunctioned, tragically slamming down right on top of her. When we found her, it was already too late, her frontal lobe and parts of her brain were smashed into her skull." Jack stopped once again, wanting to see or hear Henry's reaction, though Henry stayed silent, either dazed or too shocked to speak. "Hen?" Jack spoke out Henry's nickname. Henry quickly blinked, "O-Oh god, I-" it seems he was correct, he WAS very shocked, although he didn't get much enjoyment out of his reaction, Jack continued. "Peter and I were devastated, Peter, not knowing what to do with his miserable life now, got a job at the diner. Shortly after another tragedy had happened, Peter had a springlock failure and died later in the hospital." Jack waited yet again. Henry seemed to have a large frown on his face, "Oh, wow.. I- Jack.. how do you live with your knowing-.." Henry stopped himself, not wanting to upset Jack. "Anything else, Henry?" Jack questioned him. "Well, what if- I took your brother Peter's name? I could try and replace him, it'd be like he never died, and!-" Henry rambled off until Jack stopped him, "NO." Jack demanded, Henry took a step back from the sudden aggressiveness. "I- I'm sorry, Jack, but.." Jack just glared, "Please, don't ya miss him? I can be there for you just like him, except I won't die!-" Jack groaned, not liking Henry's rambling, complaining and whining, "fine, FINE! You may take the families last name." He knew he'd regret this decision, but he just wanted Henry to shut the fuck up. Henry's frown seemed to turn somewhat upside down, he glowed up and proceeded to hug Jack tightly, "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU SOO MUCH!" Henry exclaimed, Jack just pushed him away and tried to play it cool, "No problem, Henry Kennedy."

#dsab #dayshift at bonnie's #dayshift at freddy's #dsaf au #dsaf

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whump-town · 4 years

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Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”.

I will write the other fic as well

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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hayden-thefuck-whywouldyoudothis · 3 years

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The Inevitable

Hello wonderful people! This is going to be my first ever fanfic that I am posting anywhere, so please be nice. I would appreciate feedback, and I think that if it does well here I’ll post it n Ao3.

I came up with this fic idea a little while back, and I’ve been writing it since 03/13/21. Basically the idea is that while Tommy was in the afterlife, he met characters who died during Tales From The SMP episodes that took place in the past. They told him their stories, and Tommy connected the dots. He goes to confront Karl in Kinoko Kingdom.

This story includes a headcanon that is not mine. I read a fanfic with the mute!Karl headcanon. The story was an absolute banger. If you want to hear a little more about that go read their story Come Home With Me by icaruswontmelt on Ao3

Story starts under the cut .

The Inevitable, by BangHaydenCoven

Death was the one thing that had always been truly eternal. When Wilbur came back as Ghostbur, it had seemed like death maybe wasn’t completely permanent because Wilbur was back. But he hadn’t been brought back to life. He was a ghost, a shell of the person he had been before everything went to shit. Tommy had truly thought that death was the one thing that stayed constant on this god-forsaken server. Being beaten to death and brought back by the person who hurt you so deeply puts a lot of things that were just beyond reach of perfectly understandable, into perspective. In the amount of time that had gone by while Tommy’s life actually went to hell and back, everything had changed. Tubbo had gotten married of all things, He had a kid. And a new best friend as well, apparently. There was, for the first time in a long time, a semblance of peace between all of the factions. Peace smashed, the moment he had been let out of the prison. No one looked at him the same way anymore. No one looked at him like the kid he was. The kid he was supposed to be. All they saw was an anomaly. Not a real, live, breathing person who has feelings and needs validation, just like other people. Proof of something that never should have been real.

Since declaring that Dream had to die, Tommy had holed himself up in his little house dirt mound of a house. When he finally got over the initial panic, the firsthand terror of forcing himself to think about the time he had spent dead, he allowed himself to do it freely. Puffy had told him it was good to think back on the trauma. He wasn’t sure just how much he could trust that ideology, but it seemed to work for the most part. Tommy had spent the majority of his time in the afterlife with the people he had known when he was alive. Wilbur, Schlatt, Mexican Dream. It had been pretty simple. They spent a lot of time playing card games, for some reason. But one day, a fight had sparked between Tommy and Schlatt, causing the younger to storm off into the distance. He had been fuming that day. It hadn’t even been a fight that made sense. Schlatt had thrown some baseless accusations his way, and Tommy had just given up. He needed a break. So he walked away.

He walked.

And he walked.

And he stopped.

Looming over him was a building that was like nothing Tommy had ever seen. It was old, dusty, and cold. It belonged in the afterlife, to put it simply. It fit. It was a simple embodiment. Then, laughter filled the air. Frightening, drunk laughter that was cold but inviting. Tommy followed the spine-chilling noise into the building where he found four people. Three were dressed like they were from the Wild West. Cowboy hats, cowboy boots, and simple revolvers at their hips. The fourth was also clearly from the same time period, put was dressed simply. When he walked into the building, they just stared at him. Cold, level stares that made him feel like he would rather die all over again then be stuck under those gazes for the rest of eternity. But suddenly the looks of the people softened as they beckoned him over, introducing themselves as Connor, Mason, and Jack Kanoff. They were group of bandits called the Democrat Haters, and a simple bartender named John John. They told him their story, to put it simply. They told him how they died.

That was only the beginning.

Tommy wandered for a week straight, meeting people, hearing their stories. He met higher members of society who attended a masquerade only to die brutal deaths at the hands of a possessed butler, the members of a village with a crazed murderer that didn’t know haw to stop, that killed people brutally, among many others. And every single story Tommy heard had a one thing in common. There was always one man, in every story, who appeared out of no where, wearing colourful clothing and iridescent goggles perched on his head. He didn’t always use the same name, but he was always there, no matter when it had happened. As Tommy moved around his home to prepare, one thought rang true in his mind.

Karl was getting a visitor tomorrow.

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Walking to Kinoko Kingdom had taken a lot longer than Tommy had originally thought and planned for. Not that the little settlement was close to the rest of the Greater SMP, but it wasn’t far either. Regardless of distance, it was still far too long of a walk for Tommy to be in a good mood when he arrived to find Sapnap of all people tending to the garden in Kinoko. Usually Tommy would have snuck up behind Sapnap and scared him to intentionally piss the older man off, but that was the old Tommy. The old Tommy had stayed dead. Instead, he announced his presence by kicking an acorn at the other mans head. There was a loud yelp, followed by a string of curses that matched the flowers in the garden with how colourful they were.

“George, I swear to god, if-” his sentence dropped of in a look of pure disbelief as he turned around, expecting to see his best friend that deserved a good scolding. A dead teenager was definitely different. And confusing.

“Shit...” Sapnap mumbled, “Tommy?”

“Hello Sapnap. I must say its very nice to see you doing something other than killing pets. Or your fiances.” He smirks.

“Well it’s definitely you. The question is how. How are you alive?” he says as the shock on his face fades into confusion mixed with disbelief. Tommy freezes.

“Only if your okay with it of course. Don’t answer if your not comfortable. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up. That was insensitive of me...” he trails off as he realizes Tommy seems less stressed at the fact that Sapnap isn’t going to make him talk about it.

“Sapnap,” Tommy started, “I need to talk to Karl. Like, right now.”

“Alright,” said Sapnap, nodding slowly, “I’ll go get him. Stay right here.” As Tommy watched the other man walk away to retrieve one of his fiances, he really hopes that what he is about to accuse Karl of is wrong. Maybe one day they’ll laugh about this. Probably not.

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As Sapnap entered the house, looking for his fiances, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that Tommy so urgently needed to talk to Karl about. Not finding his fiances on the first floor of their shared house, he went upstairs to continue his search, not wanting to keep the teen waiting for too long. As he opened the door to the throuples bedroom, he let out a small huff of affection when he saw his fiances, the loves of his life, asleep in their bed. Quackity had his arms around Karls waist, with his wings over both of them like a blanket, reflecting the golden light of the sun filtering through the window. Not wanting to disturb the scene in front of him, he let out a small sigh of annoyance as he forced himself to wake up Karl, and by extension Quackity.

“Theres someone here who wants to talk to you.” he muttered softly in Karls ear.

“Who?” Karl signed sleepily.

“Tommy. It seems pretty important. He’s down in the garden.” Sapnap said a little louder, seeing that Q was now awake, so there was no reason to stay quiet.

“Alright.” He signed, “Let’s go.” as he got up, he tugged on Quackity’s sleeve lightly. “Are you coming, Q?” He nodded and gave a small smile.

“Alright,” Sapnap said, pulling Quackity into a quick hug, and giving him a quick kiss on the temple, “Let’s go then.”

As they left the house and approached Tommy sitting at the picnic table in their back garden, they exchanged a small conversation in sign language.

“Is he okay?” said Quackity with some concern clear on his face, his movements slow and scuffed from sleep.

“He looks really tired.” Sapnap added.

“Q, could you run in and prepare some sandwiches and lemonade?” Signed Karl, “We’ll bring Tommy inside and we can all have lunch together while we talk.”

“Of course, my love.” Said Quackity, giving Karl a small kiss on the cheek before hurrying inside to prepare some lunch.

Turning to Tommy to thank him for waiting, he was met with a face of absolute, genuine confusion. As Tommy stared at their hands, then looked back over to Karl, his face quickly changed to a look of understanding.

“I forgot,” he said as he stood up sheepishly, “that Karl was mute.”

“That’s okay Tommy.” Karl cut in before Sapnap could say anything, “I know you’ve been through a lot recently. It’s okay to forget things from time to time. I should know.” Karl signed slowly so that Tommy could keep up with his rusty remembrance of sign language, adding a small smile at the end of his sentence.

“Thank you Karl.” Tommy said with a sigh of relief.

“Would you like to come inside and have lunch with us? I know you have something to talk to me about, but you look hungry. We could talk right after though. How does that sound?” Karl signed with a smile on his face.

“That sounds great.” Tommy said after a beat of hesitation.

“Perfect,” said Sapnap, “let’s head inside. Q is making some sandwiches.” They all headed inside, one dreading the talk that would come after, the other two wondering what could possibly be so important to cause Tommy to come all the way out to Kinoko Kingdom to talk to Karl.

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Tommy and Sapnap sat down at the table in the dining room as Karl went into the kitchen to help Quackity. Usually it would be all three of the in the kitchen, making food and having a good time, but Sapnap needed to take advantage of the situation at hand. Since he hadn’t visited the main SMP in a while, Tommy gave him the rundown of the current and recent events he knew of. Nothing too bad, but Sapnap knows you can never be too careful. A few minutes later, Quackity and Karl emerge from the kitchen carrying some plates and the food. As they sit down and start to eat, Sapnap and Quackity make small talk that Karl contributes too every once in a while with some one handed movements, putting his sandwich down when it was necessary. But Tommy stayed quiet, which the fiances found quite odd. Clearly whatever the boy had been through recently, on top of all his other trauma, had really messed with him. The loud, boisterous teenager they had known before was gone, replaced with someone they didn’t recognize in the slightest. So Tommy stayed silent the entire time, not noticing the quick, worry filled glances the trio sent his way every so often.

Soon enough, they had all finished eating. They were sitting in the fiances’ living room together, Tommy on one couch, the tree of them on the other. The room sat in an awkward silence as Karl, Quackity, and Sapnap waited for Tommy to talk to them, and as Tommy decided what to say.

After a moment, Tommy said, “Are you sure you want them here for this?” Karl’s eyes widened at how blatant he had been.

“Of course I want them here.” He signed quickly, “They are the people who matter most to me. Whatever you need to say to me you can say to all three of us.” Sapnap and Quackity nodded, not wanting to disrupt anything.

“Alright,” Tommy sighed, “Where should I start...” Karl’s hands stayed firmly in his lap to give Tommy a moment to think. “Well, I guess I’m just going to say what I came here to say, and pray to Prime that I’m wrong.” Karl nodded, once, slowly. Tommy took a deep breath before opening his mouth and saying...

“Your a time traveler, aren’t you?”

Silence.

And then laughter

All he could hear was laughter.

Sapnap and Big Q were laughing.

Karl was not.

Karl wasn’t laughing.

The look on his face was not one of someone who had just been accused of some laughable fallacy.

A fantasy, really.

Sapnap and Quackity had stopped laughing.

They seemed to have come to the same conclusion that Tommy had.

“Karlos?” Quackity started, “There is no possible way...” he stopped, a look of pure disbelief on his face.

“Tell me that he’s lying Karl.” said Sapnap. “Please.” Karl’s hands started to move, making aborted and scuffed movements as he tried to figure out what to say.

“No,” He finally settled on, “he’s right. I’m a time traveler.” Sapnap started crying at this, and Quackity gave him a hug as he buried his face into his fiances neck. Karl looked completely torn. He clearly wanted to comfort his fiances, but he knew he shouldn’t while Tommy was still here. But he also didn’t know if he could. Karl didn’t know if he was even still allowed to comfort them after keeping this big of a secret from them, and for so long. Karl started signing again, this time with clear urgency behind each movement.

“Two things, and then I need you to leave. Understood?”

“Of course,” said Tommy, “I will leave immediately.” Karl nodded.

“Thank you. First things first,” he signed, “how did you know?” Tommy sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this. But Karl deserved to hear the truth.

“When I died, I was in the afterlife for a little while,” Tommy said softly, “One day I walked away from the people I knew in the afterlife, Schlatt, Wilbur, and Mexican Dream. I walked for so long I came across a building I had never seen before, and when I went in I met a group of people from the Wild West.” Karl’s eyes had gone wide.

“You met Jack and Mason and Connor?” he signed.

“Yeah, and John John as well. They told me what happened the day they died, and they mentioned you. Not directly, but they mentioned a man that had showed up out of nowhere wearing bright colours and iridescent goggles.” Karl looked wistful, remembering his time sent in the Wild West, even if it hadn’t been an exceptionally fun trip at the time. Tommy continued. “I also met the people who visited the masquerade, same story. But this time they mentioned your name. And lastly I met the townfolk of the Village that went Mad. Same story, but no name once again. I just connected the dots.” Tommy fell silent, waiting for Karl to tell him something. Sometime during his revelations, Sapnap and Quackity had left the room to comfort each other. Karl clearly wanted to tell them he was sorry, but he couldn’t do that until Tommy had left. Turning back to the teen, he started signing once more.

“Thank you for telling me, Tommy. I just have one thing to ask of you, then you can leave.” Tommy nodded his head, and Karl continued, “You cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone what you know. It would put everyone in grave danger. Is that clear?”

“Of course. I won’t tell a soul.” Karl gave him a small smile. “Now I think you should go talk to your fiances.”

“I will,” he signed, leading Tommy to the front door, “Goodbye, Tommy. Have a good trip back.”

“Goodbye, Karl.”

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As he walked towards the door of their shared bedroom, he could barely hold himself back from running to the room to comfort them. But Karl couldn’t be sure that they would ever be the same again. It broke him to think that, but he had lied to them, for a long time. They probably hated him.

He stopped outside of the door, hearing faint sounds of crying on the other side of the door. He slowly opened the door to see Quackity and Sapnap cuddled up together against the headboard of their bed, with all of the lights out. Sapnap was asleep against Quackitys chest, tear tracks all over his face. Q wasn’t much better.

“Hey Karl.” Quackity said softly, sniffling a little.

“Hi.” he signed back, gong to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry.” he signed after a beat of silence. “I have no excuses. I just wanted both of you to be safe from it.”

“But... what is it, Karl? Why couldn’t you tell us? Are these the trips you’ve been going on? Does it have something to do with your memory problems?” Quackity rambled, question after question. He cut off when he realized how tense Karl looked. “...sorry.” he said, lowering his voice once more.

“Woah, Q, it’s okay. But I can only answer one question at a time.” Quackity nodded. “It is the In-Between,” he started, making the ASL sign for between, then spelling it out, “I don’t actually know what it is, but I managed to get away from it recently. It was stopping me from telling you about my time traveling. It told me that telling you guys would put you guys in grave danger. I couldn’t let that happen. So I kept it a secret.” He stopped, hands dropping when he couldn’t figure out where to go from there. Quackity opened his mouth, about to ask a question, when he felt Sapnap stir at his side.

“Hey babe.” Quackity said, Sapnap just let out a little huff. “Sap, do you feel up to talking right now?”

“...yeah...is he here?” he mumbled, voice heavy and slurred with sleep.

“He is.” Quackity answered. Sapnap looked up at him, then looked over to Karl.

“Hi Sap.” he signed, not making eye contact. “I want to apologize to both of you. For not telling you. There really is no valid excuse that I have. The In-Between was crazy. I just wanted to keep both of you safe.”

“What is the In-Between?” Sapnap asked. Before Karl could answer, Quackity cut in.

“He doesn’t know, Sap.” he whispered.

Sapnap continued, “I want you to tell us the whole story. Please?” Karl looked conflicted.

“Alright.” he signed, “I’ll start at the beginning.” So he did. He told them the whole story. By the time he had finished, all three had tears running down their face. “Do you understand now?” Karl wiped his eyes before continuing, “It wasn’t safe to tell you.” Sapnap nodded, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“You need to stop traveling Karl. Me and Sapnap wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if you forgot everything.” said Quackity, pulling Sapnap even closer. Karl sighed.

“I can’t control the traveling. I don’t know if it will ever stop. All I need right now is you two. If I hadn’t wanted to get home to you guys so desperately, I would have forgotten long ago.” Karl got up and grabbed his journal. “Fill it.” he signed, after he gave it to his two fiances, “fill it with everything I need to remember. And when I come back each time, help me remember. Please.” Sapnap looked up at him, then glanced at Quackity, coming to a silent agreement. They would do anything to keep Karl with them.

“Of course we will, mi amor.” said Quackity, opening his arms to invite Karl to come sit with them. Karl smiled, tears running down his face once again, crawling into their warm embrace. And as they sat there, holding each other close, Karl took each of heir hands, pressing his favourite symbol in ASL into their palms.

“I love you.”

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Thank you for reading!!! Once again, if you like this, leave a comment or something, idk. And make sure to go check out the story linked at the top of this post for more about the mute!Karl Jacobs hc.

Have an amazing day, wonderful people.

#karlnapity #afterlife #karlnapity fic #ficlet #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp au #quackity #sapnap #karl jacobs #tales from the smp #the masquerade #the village that went mad #the wild west #time travel #mute character #headcanon #canon divergent au

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