#but i got back on meds so it’s not so bad to handle anymore:3

[swe3tlifee]

🐈‍⬛🪞🌱🖤

[callsign-bunnie]

For angst night, Rudy is in an abusive relationship and Alejandro doesn't notice for a while because he was jealous, but now he finds out and the rest can be up to you.

Love your work btw <3

This one may be kind of heavy on the angst but I'm having a super shit day and wrote this instead of emailing my therapist! Angst Night! I'm doing this as ABO if that's okay. (Trigger warning for literally everything to do with an abusive relationship.)

--

Rodolfo had been so lonely before he met Wayne. He'd been so desperate for love, for courtship. He'd been so dearly in love with Alejandro and he'd felt so lonely for so long that any sort of attention just immediately pulled him in.

It'd been a fast relationship, but Rodolfo hadn't cared. He'd just wanted to be wanted. Wayne was a caring alpha, too. He gave Rodolfo everything he wanted. Time, attention, love, gifts. Anything.

Rodolfo was willing to ignore how angry he got when Rodolfo didn't do something right. Alejandro had gotten angry a few times, too. This was what Rodolfo expected.

He was willing to ignore how possessive Wayne was. Maybe he liked that. Wayne wanted him and he didn't want anyone else wanting him. Yeah, it kind of sucked when he couldn't spend time with Alejandro off missions, as much. But, it was kind of obvious Rodolfo had had feelings for Alejandro that it made sense he'd be uncomfortable with it.

Yeah, Wayne hit him a few times but Rodolfo had been in the military. He could handle it. He was always so sweet, afterwards, so caring. That was more than he'd gotten from anyone else who'd hit him. So, he could handle it.

Maybe Wayne was pushing for him to leave the military, to not re-enlist. But, it made sense. He loved Rodolfo so much and it was so worrying that Rodolfo was on missions all the time and he just wanted him safe and at home.

Sure, Wayne wanted sex when Rodolfo didn't. But, he had needs and Rodolfo was just so pretty and he couldn't help himself. He just wanted Rodolfo so much and could Rodolfo really fault him for being opportunistic and taking it?

Wayne wanted children so bad and Rodolfo didn't but Rodolfo had gotten with him knowing he was a traditional alpha and he should have expected that. Rodolfo was being cruel by holding out on him for that.

Wayne loved him. He really did.

-

Rodolfo stared out into the distance, barely blinking as the helicopter landed. He shifted how he was standing, because if he slouched over too much his ribs would hurt again. They were probably fractured but Rodolfo didn't want to go to the doctor to find out.

So, he'd just taken a fuck ton of pain meds and ignored it. Alejandro perked up beside him as their friends exited the helicopter. They were off duty, so Soap and Ghost had decided to come to Mexico for a few weeks.

The work never ended for Rodolfo and Alejandro, but since they'd reached a very tentative agreement with Valeria... missions had slowed down. So, having them there would be no problem.

Soap didn't even hesitate, running over to hug Rodolfo. Once they'd gotten comfortable with each other, Soap was constantly hugging him and messing with him. Rodolfo had been glad for it, at the time, since he didn't get much affection elsewhere.

Now, Rodolfo just cringed back from it. He'd found himself not really wanting to be touched, anymore. He winced with pain when Soap's arms went right around where one of the bruises were.

Soap moved away, immediately. "Rudy? What's wrong?" He looked very concerned and Rodolfo internally sighed.

"I fell down a short flight of stairs. Bruised myself." He attempted an assuring smile at the other omega, not wanting Soap to remain concerned.

Soap's concern did not waver. He glanced at Alejandro for a moment, his face turning to confusion. "Alright..." He said, after a moment and Rodolfo relaxed, his smile coming easier.

Rodolfo pat Soap's arm. Soap stopped and grabbed his hand, immediately. "What is this??" He touched the ring on Rodolfo's hand and Rodolfo flushed. Right. He kept forgetting they were engaged, now.

"An engagement ring." Rodolfo laughed, like it was obvious. He expected Soap to be excited for him but Soap only frowned. "What?"

"It's been only a year in this relationship. Are you sure you're ready for that?" Soap frowned, glancing up when Ghost finally made it over to them. "Ghost, look."

Ghost raised his eyebrow at the ring. "That was fast."

Rodolfo pulled his hand away from them and frowned. He glanced up to Alejandro, who's face had remained neutral. "I'm not getting younger. If I'm going to get married, I'd like to be married before my forties. Wayne feels the same." Obviously Ghost wouldn't get it. He was an alpha. They didn't have these same feelings towards relationships like omegas do.

And Soap didn't get it because he wasn't like other omegas. He didn't like any of that traditional stuff.

Alejandro's voice was neutral when he spoke up. "They're trying for a baby, too."

Rodolfo turned his head and glared at Alejandro. "I would have liked to have kept that to myself, thanks." Alejandro just shrugged. He'd been super fucking weird about Rodolfo and Wayne lately.

"Rudy! A baby??" Soap frowned deeply. "You always said you didn't want kids."

Rodolfo cringed back. "Why aren't you happy for me?" He mumbled. He hadn't expected them to act like this was such an awful thing.

Soap seemed to hesitate before sighing. "I'm sorry. You're right. I am happy for you, Rudy." He offered a smile and Rodolfo found himself relaxing immediately. "Congratulations on getting engaged."

Rodolfo smiled. "Thank you. Lets head back to base." He got in to drive, waiting for everyone else to get in before starting to drive to the base. He was sure if they'd meet Wayne, they'd like him. They would understand.

Everyone else did. He was so charming to everyone. Everyone loved him. Everyone but Alejandro, but... Alejandro was being weird, anyway.

Alejandro sat in the back with Ghost, so Soap happily climbed in the front. "Are you going to hang out with us?"

"I'm going to try." Rodolfo nodded a bit. "As much as I can."

"Try?" Soap frowned. "Why do you have to try? Surely Wayne will understand. We haven't seen you in four months."

Rodolfo winced. "He likes spending time with me."

"You live together." Soap rolled his eyes. "He could handle you being out for just a little more than you usually are."

Rodolfo was quiet. "Like I said, I'll try." He felt bad because Soap was right. It'd been four months. "I was thinking of seeing if he wanted to get dinner with you guys, tonight, anyway! It could be a double date. Triple, if Alejandro could find someone."

"I'll bring Valeria." Alejandro spoke up.

Rodolfo cringed. Valeria hated Wayne. She'd threatened to make him go missing a few times. Plus, she was an alpha and Wayne had a... traditional view on relationships. "Nevermind, just a double date." He half smiled at Soap.

Soap didn't look like he liked that idea. "Ghost?"

"It's up to you, Johnny." Ghost shrugged.

Soap hesitated. "Alright, if he wants to, we'll come."

Rodolfo relaxed. "I really think you'd like him if you met him."

"Sure." Soap mumbled, looking out the window.

-

Rodolfo had barely managed to convince Wayne to do the double date. It'd been a struggle but he'd eventually relented. Of course, they'd argued the entire time they were getting dressed, but... Rodolfo could handle that.

Rodolfo was now just grateful Soap and Ghost could meet him. He was so sure they'd like him.

Then they got to the table and he saw Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, and Valeria. His heart sank. No, this wasn't a good idea. He glared at Alejandro when he came over. "I-"

"Rudy!" Valeria smiled. "It's nice to see you! It's been a while. What, three months?"

Rodolfo flinched and sat down, irritated. "Yeah." He mumbled. He tensed when Wayne sat down. No one else would be able to see it, but he could feel the anger coming off of him, immediately. God, he should have texted Soap and Ghost to find out, first.

Wayne put his hand on Rodolfo's thigh and squeezed a little and Rodolfo looked down at the table. He was an idiot. He shouldn't have even invited Alejandro in the first place.

"Soap, Ghost, this is Wayne." He introduced, after a moment, though it was just to be polite.

Wayne gave them a warm smile and held out his hand, shaking both of theirs, though it was decidedly different for Soap. Soap looked offended and Rodolfo almost pleaded with him, with his eyes. He's just like that, he didn't mean anything by it.

Soap, however, didn't say anything. "It's nice to meet you."

Wayne nodded in agreement. "Rodolfo's been so excited about you coming. Wouldn't shut up about it."

Rodolfo winced. "I'm sorry, I just- haven't seen them in a while." He fake smiled, flushing a little. He hoped Wayne wasn't too irritated. He really had just been excited.

Wayne shrugged. "I don't mind when you ramble about your friends." He finally let go of Rodolfo's thigh, patting it.

Rodolfo relaxed and looked at Soap and Ghost. "What about you guys? How's Gaz and Price?"

Ghost shrugged. "Alex moved in with them, last month, and they've been adjusting to the change, apparently."

Rodolfo smiled. "I heard from Gaz that Price and Alex bicker all the time."

"It's banter, mostly." Soap shrugged and smiled. "Both are passionate alphas. Apparently Alex refuses to call football football and Price is about to hit him for it."

Rodolfo laughed, softly. "I like the word soccer. It's fun to say." He cringed when he felt Wayne tense a little. His echolalia had been... a touchy subject. Wayne didn't like when he repeated words too many times. "Anyway," he quickly moved on, ignoring Soap's concerned stare. "What else do they bicker about?"

Rodolfo grasped at the table cloth, feeling Wayne's hand touch his leg again. He was doing everything wrong.

"The tv, mostly. Oh, the thermostat. Price likes it warm, Alex likes it cold. Gaz pays for the apartment so neither get full say and Gaz refuses to take sides." Soap laughed again. "I mean, I wouldn't want to choose between my boyfriend and my dad figure, either."

Rodolfo nodded in agreement. "I don't think I could, either." Nails dug into his thigh and he tensed. But then, the hand pulled away and Rodolfo couldn't help his anxiety. Wayne was pissed.

"We need to talk, later." Wayne said a moment later, leaning into his ear. Rodolfo nodded a little and looked down. There was no salvaging this night.

-

Rodolfo accepted the cigarette from Soap. "You should stop smoking." He said, while actively lighting his own.

"You first." Soap sighed. "I was shocked you snuck out to come see me. It's been three days since you saw us."

Rodolfo shrugged. Wayne had kept finding some excuse to keep him home. Or he'd just get angry and tell Rodolfo he wasn't going. But... Rodolfo had gotten some horrible news that morning. He closed his eyes. "I really wish you guys would try to like Wayne."

"He's a shitbag." Soap huffed. Rodolfo wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn't. Soap had made it kind of obvious he hated him. "Seriously, Rudy, you want to spend the rest of your life with that?"

"It's better than being alone." Rodolfo admitted, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Alejandro doesn't like him either."

"Valeria was boiling with rage over him." Soap shook his head. "Rudy, come on. He's awful."

"He's really not. He takes care of me." Rodolfo frowned, defending him. "He's really sweet."

Soap rolled his eyes and went silent. "You know... Alejandro invited us out here."

"What?" Rodolfo frowned. "I... I thought you guys asked to come." He wasn't shocked Alejandro would invite them but he was shocked Alejandro hadn't told him that.

Soap shrugged. "Alejandro thought we'd be able to talk some sense into you. Rudy... come on... He's horrible. He's gross as hell. He flirted with the waitress. You barely even flinched."

Rodolfo cringed. "He's just like that. He's a flirty guy. I'm sure he'd flirt with you."

Soap raised an eyebrow. "That's- that's not a good thing."

Rodolfo looked away. "I love him."

"Oh, I have no doubts." Soap nodded. "But come on, Rudy. He's not good for you."

Rodolfo shrugged a little and looked down. "I love him. Why can't that be enough for you guys? Why can't you like him because I like him?"

"Because he's awful, Rudy." Soap's voice softened. "He treats you like shit." He touched Rodolfo's shoulder and Rodolfo cringed away. Soap frowned. "You're different."

Rodolfo looked away and took another drag from his cigarette, blowing it out, carefully. He should leave, go back home and to bed. As it was, Wayne would have a fit when he woke up and Rodolfo was gone. But, he couldn't. Maybe, in a way, he wanted Soap to convince him to leave Wayne.

No, that wasn't true. Rodolfo loved Wayne. He wanted to stay with Wayne, he loved Wayne. "I love him."

"Rudy, that's not the argument." Soap sighed, softly. Rodolfo looked down. "Does he love you?"

Rodolfo nodded. "He does." Soap laughed, though he clearly wasn't actually amused. "He does." He reiterated.

Soap shook his head. "Rudy." He sighed. "Please. I am coming to you as a friend and as a friend, I am asking you to... please just... consider your relationship a little deeper."

Rodolfo sighed. "Alright, fine. But... only because you're my friend."

Soap relaxed. "That's all I can ask, Rudy."

-

Rodolfo stared into the distance again. He was exhausted. Wayne had barely let him sleep the night before. He'd had something he needed every five seconds.

"Rudy." Alejandro clicked his fingers in front of Rodolfo's face and Rodolfo jumped a little. Alejandro seemed to soften. "Are you alright?"

Rodolfo flushed and softened. "Yeah, just... didn't get too much sleep."

Alejandro frowned. "Why not?"

"Nightmares." Rodolfo lied and looked down, rubbing at his face. He paused when he smelled alpha, suddenly. Alejandro wore blockers, so he shouldn't have been able to smell it unless he was putting it out.

It smelled angry. "Rodolfo. What is on your neck?"

Rodolfo tensed, half panicked, already. "What do you mean?"

"Rodolfo, I think you know exactly what I mean." Alejandro kicked over a chair, half slamming down in it, in front of Rodolfo. "Is he hitting you?"

"N-no." He lied, now fully panicked. "No, he just... he got a little drunk and it was an accident." It really had been. He'd cried so long over it.

"Rudy!" Alejandro covered his face. "You're not going home to him."

Rodolfo frowned, shaking his head. "You don't get to decide that."

"Rodolfo. He's hitting you. He shouldn't be doing that." Alejandro went to touch Rodolfo, before stopping when he cringed away. He looked almost distraught. "I'm going to kill him. How many times has he hit you?"

Rodolfo went quiet. He knew he wouldn't be able to lie convincingly and say that it was the first time, but he didn't want to reveal just how many times.

"Rodolfo..." Alejandro dug his nails into his legs. "Fuck! I knew that bastard was doing something to you."

Rodolfo instinctively took Alejandro's hand and smoothed out his knuckles. "Ale... He's not- he's a good guy. He's a caring alpha and he takes care of me."

"He hurts you. Rodolfo! What would you do if someone was hurting Soap like that?" Alejandro took Rodolfo's hands. "What if Soap was trying to convince you that Ghost was hitting him but it was fine because he loved him??"

Rodolfo didn't cringe back from his touch, this time. He knew Alejandro was right, he did, but... he didn't want to be alone anymore. "I would kill Ghost..."

"You would. Why is it different for you?" Alejandro sighed a little.

"I.." Rodolfo didn't really have a retort. "I..." He didn't want to be alone again. He could handle it if it meant not being alone.

"This is my fault..." Alejandro mumbled. "I should have just been honest from the beginning and I should have told you the truth and then you'd never have gotten with that asshole and I should have picked up the signs but I was so jealous and it clouded my judgement and..."

Rodolfo frowned, having trouble processing his words. "What are you talking about?"

"Fuck." Alejandro shoved a hand through his hair. "Rudy, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for a while and I... I thought you didn't feel the same so I never said anything and I regret that so deeply because look where you are."

Rodolfo looked away, grasping at his shirt. Alejandro had been in love with him this whole time? "I-" Guilt tugged in his chest because already, he was considering leaving Wayne. Just for the chance with Alejandro.

This whole time, it'd been in the back of his mind. He was in love with Alejandro. Even when he was with Wayne, he wanted Alejandro. He'd felt so horrible about it, but... it was the truth. "I... Alejandro," he couldn't help the distress in his voice.

Alejandro touched his face and made him look at him. "Whether you love me or not is irrelevant, though. Because... he is not good for you. He's an asshole. Rudy, be honest with me... This week alone, how many times has he hit you?"

Rodolfo was quiet. "I can handle it. I'm in the military. I've gotten worse."

"How many?"

"Every day." Rodolfo flinched at the flash of anger in Alejandro's scent.

Alejandro took a deep breath. "Rudy, you... you don't get a choice in this one. I'm sorry. I'm calling Valeria and I'm telling her." He started to get his phone out.

"She's going to kill him!" Rodolfo exclaimed, trying to grab Alejandro's phone.

Alejandro nodded. "That is what is desired, yes."

Rodolfo shook his head. "Please don't-"

Alejandro watched him for a moment and then slumped, sighing. "Then don't go home to him."

Rodolfo went quiet. "I don't want to be alone, Alejandro. I... I'm tired of being alone."

"You're not alone, you have me." Alejandro shrugged and took his hands again. "Rudy... I will make sure you are never alone again. Please... just god please do not go back to him."

Rodolfo cringed. "You're not just saying that so I leave him, right?"

Alejandro shook his head. "No, of course not. I really have been so deeply in love with you. I should have told you so long ago and I didn't and..." He hung his head. "It's okay if you never forgive me for that. But I really am just begging you to not go back to him."

Rodolfo hesitated. He was shaking a little. "Kiss me. If you kiss me, I won't." He wasn't even sure why he was saying that

Alejandro didn't even hesitate. If he had, Rodolfo may have went, anyway. But, no, he surged forward, grabbing Rodolfo's face, and kissed him deeply. It was passionate and maybe there was desperation but maybe Rodolfo wanted that.

Rodolfo felt wanted by Alejandro. God, that was so pathetic. He'd let himself end up in such a horrible relationship for the sake of being wanted and now that Alejandro wanted him, he was going to just leave it. But... he would.

Alejandro finally pulled away. "Don't go home to him."

Rodolfo shook his head. "I won't..." He mumbled and looked up at him.

Alejandro relaxed, deeply. "Thank you." He pulled Rodolfo close.

Rodolfo melted and closed his eyes. "I... I'm... You don't think I'm pathetic? For staying?"

"No, Rudy." Alejandro shook his head.

Rodolfo relaxed. "Soap's going to be happy. He tried to convince me to leave."

"He will be very happy." Alejandro took his hand, suddenly, and pulled off the ring that was there. Rodolfo didn't even miss it. He'd barely cared when the proposal happened. It just made sense that it would happen. "Ghost and I will go get your stuff, tomorrow, okay?"

Rodolfo nodded. "Okay..."

"Thank you, Rudy. For leaving him."

"Of course, Alejandro." Rodolfo nodded.

[mellybouboulove]

My guardian angel🤍𓆩♡𓆪☁️

Chapter 3

Plot summary: Drug Dealer Ellie Williams X OFC slowburn fic, out of universe and takes place in college, set in the 2000s. Smut content to come.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Tags: #wlw #sapphic #drugdealer!ellie #modern!ellie #tlou #slowburn #smut #fluff #tlouau #au #modernau #drugs

Chapter 3

The morning after, I woke up on the couch covered with a blanket. The light was shining through the blinds and the birds were singing, that was my first night of real sleep since a week. Lana who was sleeping on my lap started meowing to get to feed her. I finally get the energy to open my eyes and stand up to feed my cat. Suddenly I looked around realizing she wasn't here anymore.

A wave of emptiness submerged me. My house is still a mess because I was still too lazy to do anything about it. I took a shower, my head full of questions : Why did she leave without telling anything? Did she even care at all? Am I just another stupid drug addict to her? I guess I'll never know. Anyway, it's not my problem anymore. I have more important things to think about like where to find my opiates. Right now I'm feeling better but I know I couldn't handle another day sober.

I put on another pyjama after getting out of the shower when I heard the door opening. I quickly left the bathroom and ran to the leaving room full of joy. Here she was ; she had 2 bags of groceries in her hands and a big backpack; could this be what I was thinking about ? No, she’s too busy to do this. She probably came to say goodbye.

-Ok so, I saw that the fridge was empty, I bought you eggs, pastas… She started to enumerate what she bought for me and explained that she wanted to stay with me for the weekend. I was right, she was about to stay here for a while. -Thank you so much I don't know what to say Ellie that’s so kind of you, how much do I own you? And why do you want to stay here? I’m not at my best you know.. -Nothing, she said, it’s my pleasure if I can help you. I’m gonna stay here for the week-end and yeah I saw that you’re not at your best. I don’t want to be a passive watcher of your fall, that's also why I want to stay with you.

I was so happy to hear this, I don't know if she would be able to do anything to help me heal but her attention was already enough to make me feel better. She installed  her clothes then we talked about my situation while eating. I explained to her how I was feeling about what happened.

-I'm gonna give you some meds. If I see that you’re about to vomit or you’re shaking or about to faint I’ll give you something. If you’re feeling bad and start thinking too much about it just talk to me. I listened carefully to her instructions and she continued.  -Do you think you'd be able to clean your place with me?

All alone I could never clean all that, I couldn’t even find the motivation to eat but now she’s here I dont know why but it seems effortless. She got up, turned on MTV and dragged me by the arm to the kitchen. I did the dishes as she was throwing out my spoiled groceries that were still in my fridge and placed the new ones she just bought. Then we picked up all the clothes that were around my house then she did a machine while vacuuming and cleaning the dust everywhere. We changed my bedsheets, cleaned the bathroom and even gave a bath to Lana. 

Later, we both felt hungry so we decided to bake pancakes. It was really fun, though we first argued on the measurements of the sugar, she gave up and let me add an extra amount of sugar to make them sweet enough. She was eating the leftovers of dough stuck in the spoons and bowls and as she wanted to give me a taste, she unintentionally put some dough on my face which led to a little -very cliché romcom like- fight of trying to put dough on the other’s face. We were running around the kitchen aisle when she finally caught me and we started to calm down. She wiped the dough I had on my cheeks and forehead with her thumb then we went back to baking. The dough was ready, it was time to bake them on the pan. She was making them flip in the air like a pro which I strangely found very attractive of her. She tried teaching me but I made the pancake fall and the dough that was not cooked yet spilled everywhere. She decided to not let me have control of the pan again for the rest of the recipe and I, instead, took charge of setting the table and doing the dishes we just dirtied. 

We enjoyed our pancakes in front of SpongeBob Squarepants. 

-You were right, the more the sugar, the better. She said.  -Told ya..  -Are you feeling tired or do you wanna go out now ? -No I’m feeling good, what do you have in mind? In reality my head was hurting but I needed to stay occupied.  -I was thinking we could go to the fair maybe? -Ohh yes sounds good for me, let me get ready first.

I took another shower after sweating like a pig with all this cleaning, I got dressed in a skirt, a tight top and my platform boots, put some makeup on then did my hair. In the meantime, Ellie took a shower and got ready too. We got into her car on the way to the fair. The smell of the popcorn, cotton candy and churros filled my nostrils, the sky was dark, the stars and lights from the attractions were lighting us. We decided to go for a ride on the big wheel, we sat next to each other, her arm behind my neck, as we enjoyed the beautiful view from the top. I spotted a thrilling roller coaster. I begged Ellie to go for a ride with me until I had to drag her by her hand. We had a lot of fun, I felt like a kid. 

Then, she decided to play a shooting game that could earn us a big teddy bear. After 3 shots, she finally managed to get the target; we were handed a big green dinosaur plushie. I felt so excited, it kinda looked like a date. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, violently turning me around; I was a little shaken up and turned with furrowed eyebrows to see the person who was assaulting me when I ended up face to face with Emily. My heartbeat immediately increased, my throat felt as tight as a bow. 

-How dare you step foot at any party, how dare you pretend like nothing happened ? You’re such a pathetic selfish bitch. Do you ever even think about what you did and how much it impacted me ? Going on cute little dates with your stupid girlfriend while Jonathan is dying at the hospital ?? How can you even handle looking at yourself in the mirror? 

I was left speechless, tears started to fill my eyes, my hands were shaky. She was right; I’m so selfish. I’m thinking about this day on repeat all day long but I didn’t even really try to check up on them. After my treatment started to make me feel crazy, I couldn’t focus on anything else than drugs. I guess it was easier than facing my responsibilities and the horrible consequences my actions had on my friends’ lives. I was just looking for something to focus on other than this. Emily has lost her scholarship after not being able to stay in the soccer team due to her injuries. Jonathan was still in a coma, his parents are visiting and praying for him everyday. I’ve been the luckiest out of us three yet I can only think about MY problems, MY addiction, MY guilt. 

After what felt like forever of just standing there, Ellie took me apart in a more quiet area. She handed me a glass of water to try to calm me down. She pulled me into a hug and I let myself cry into her arms. We agreed it was time to go back home. Yet again we were driving to my house, making ourselves comfy on the couch while she reassured and took care of me. The day after we spent a while talking about everything and I understood focusing on drugs was selfish, I need to take action and try to fix what I can; Ellie said she’ll help me with everything and will stay with me all along but once the weekend was over, I quickly came back to reality.

[amuhav]

All the odd questions of the Edgy/misc OC ask meme for Loch please.

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

His one-night stand with Ash. Because Amir was right, Loch wasn't some stupid confused teenager anymore. He was a grown man who even drunk knew it was a bad idea, knew he wasn't in the right headspace to give more than that, knew he was in a rebound friend's-with-benefits thing with Alice only because he'd just got out of another relationship and questioning his sexuality and whether he was even capable of being a person in a relationship, with anyone. He knew all that, and still got drunk and did it anyway. He convinced himself they both knew what they were doing and one brief moment of pleasure would be fine, when it really cost his already spiralling mental health, and the trust and mental health of Asher. And even though they're good (mostly) now, he knows he can never take it back, and he can never change that it put Ash in that vulnerable position for someone like Finn to swoop in.

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

Not communicating honestly with people. Not just Ash, but really anyone. He rarely lets anyone know his actual wants and needs, I guess because growing up they didn't really matter.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

I mean, depends. We know Loch has very specific lines he won't cross, but... he is still a Karaish, and all of them have a sort of built-in "the rules don't apply to me" kind of mentality lol.

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Loch was supposed to AroAce which is honestly hilarious to me now. I mean, he is very much not asexual at all lmao, but he is kinda still on the aromantic spectrum. He knows he's never felt any romantic inclination towards any women, but he's not sure how that applies to men, though to be honest, he's at a point now where it doesn't really matter. If it's not Asher, it's no one. I really don't think he'd ever have actually been with someone legitimately if it weren't Ash.

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

His words, and absolutely lol. It comes out more when he's drunk, but even sober push him enough and his tongue turns vicious.

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

Absodamnlutely lmao. Mainly because we're pretty alike, but also because it reminds me of the catty banter relationships I have with my friend's IRL, or some of my old work friends. Extra yes because he's a guy I could have that kind of friendship with knowing he wouldn't be catching feelings too so I wouldn't have to worry about it lol.

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

Noooooope. All of Gen 3 happened before I really knew of the concept of face claims lmao.

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Made his parents emotionally absent af whilst still being physically present lmao. Like, there's so many specific events in his life I could point to instead, but him stepping in to parent his younger sibs is like, the root cause of most of his issues. But his parents weren't ever abusive, or even truly neglectful, and in their own way they are still loving parents. So it's kinda... complicated? Like, he loves them and can't hate them, and he feels any bitterness towards them isn't really worth addressing, and it's not like they can do anything about it now anyway. Like, it's not going to change what it did to him. It made him the person he is and that can't be undone, so why ruin that relationship now?

How does your OC behave when enraged?

He usually either gets bitchy or he lashes out, depending on the specifics.

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

~anxiety~. for which he currently takes meds and has been through a course of CBT.

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Vulnerability. He hates feeling it, and hates showing it. So he runs from it, or twists it into something else, like anger.

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

He's a lil bitch and honestly, I ~vibe~ with it lol. Especially now he's making that petty, bitchy side of himself more public. Like, there's a lot about him that drives me fuckin insane, but his cattiness definitely isn't one of them lmao.

[noxiatoxia]

i need you guys to know that i am really sick right now and have been bed ridden for days. and my evil evil evil friend the other day, WHILE i am sick and overwhelmed already from being so sick, drops the bombshell of "have you realized if you flip episode 21 backwards it's 12..... like midnight.....like cinderella" i actually got so fucking upseti was sick and tired and stressed and then i read that i had to take a fucking xanax to calm the fuck down i couldn't handle it. i hate it here. 12. eyah, sure, episode 21, backwards is 12. sure! ok! was this intentional ? does not even matter. it is like when somebody does the thing that is racist or perhaps sexcist and it is like, well i understand you meant nothing no harm by it beut it was still bad regardless of intentions that is what this is like, even if they did not intend for the 21 to dlip to 12 and be midnight the damnage is done. honestly good allegory for the allegory itself this awhole thing was unintnetional damafe done to ME specifically. like. guys put yourself in my shoes rigth now. i am up at 4:00am i want to sleep but i have to wait 30 more minutes so i can take my meds i am on a schedule so i wont be sick anymore and instead of speanding this time watching youtube or playing video games or doing smth productive you know what, i am thinking about the carriage allegoryand about how 21 backwards is 12. 12. like midnight.....like was that intentional dude.....like the writers, they are generally clever sometimes so like i could vision it being intentional at least a little bit like SOMEbody on the staff knew what was up. i mean it will never be confirmed though it is all speculation whcih is the worst part about all of this, like the lallegory itself i get no fucking closure it is all just guesswork and shambles. and now i am #jonker mode over hwat? pumpkin anime? the only pumpkin kaoru should be doin is pumpin ' his kin ok ok........ stop with the gay cinderella shit nobody cares. see this is why i cant handle the idea of ouran season 2 or a reboot bc, it is bad either way. 1) they bring back the carriage i m done for 2) if they do nt i will be pissed off because i want it resolved so then they are just ignoring it 3) even if they bring it back and do it well i will still be traumatized like this wont ifix anything the damahes had been dealt and i ahve to live with it forever. so for my sake i hope they never remake ouran i deserve some peace and fucking rest ok at least hold out like......3 more years or something like maybe the grief will have dulled by that time. so a remake/reboot/season 2 wont be so traumatizing to me it will be like "oh, ok" you know. i feel like i had a comparison but i lost it. i dont wantch much anime tob e quite honest. can you tell im trying to kill time waiting for 30 minutes to pass it has only been 7. fuck episode 21. fuck the fact it is a 12 when flipped. fuck mifnight, the time. fuuuuuck episode 21. why coulnt it be 22 to avoid this. episod e 21 should be the name of an std

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I’m back with another fun prompt before I hit you guys with angst (sorry <3) I had a lot of idea but I decided this one was more cute and funny. so an AU where soap is medic (he is still the same just is more medically knowledgeable) so one day gaz and ghost walk in to medic ( gaz did something stupid and got hurt ghost is there to make sure he doesn’t pass out on the way there) and they see soap and ghost man is mesmerized he literally stop and stares soap walks in and just starts curse at gaz for being back in his office so soon then he sees ghost and gives him a huge smile and promises he’ll take care of gaz and he’ll be fine (ghost is so in love he just nods his head and thanks him). the next victim is könig he cuts his arm and soap just takes care of him and he is just straight flustered he just thinks of the nice medic who help him (the band-aids are cute animals). now the last two are Alejandro and Rudy they got a bit hurt and soap see’s them and immediately tends to their wounds he hold Rudy face with cleaning his cuts(Rudy face is so red and doesn’t know how to speak).then he hold Alejandro hand to bandage it he just stared and flirts with him in Spanish (soap knows multiple languages due to being everywhere as a medic) soap laughs and just says “ you think I’m hot? You’re not bad yourself and don’t worry I always kiss a patient better then he kisses his hand. Alejandro is just in shock and cannot speak price saw that go down and while soap is helping him he just say” y’know how we been talking about you joining 141?” “Yeah why?” “Let’s rethink that”.

Sorry this one took my so long, I’ve been trying to finish off some fics that’ve been sitting in my computer for a year.

Anyway! I actually love the idea of Gaz getting sent to Soap’s med room so often that the two just know each other really well by now and Gaz looks at him, looks at his lieutenant and goes, “Yes. He’s gonna love him.”

And then starts the talking about either man to the other one. Ghost kind of gets over Gaz talking about this medic so often and finally decides to go see what all the fuss is about himself one day. One look at the man tending to a random soldier and Ghost has fallen hook, line and sinker.

So now Ghost takes every opportunity to go see the man, including the time he ‘had’ to go with Gaz to make sure the man didn’t pass out in a random hallway (because there totally weren’t other people that could’ve taken him and he was the only person available)

It’s probably the only proper interaction he’s actually had with the man and when Soap turns that bright grin and soft eyes on him and speaks without an ounce of fear? Simon swears he could melt into a puddle.

König only ends up in medical because his captain told him to, something about needing him in tip-top shape. He doesn’t understand why since it’s literally a scratch but he won’t disobey orders, even if they’re literally pointless.

Though when the Austrian walks through that door and the nice medic man smiles at him that brightly he doesn’t feel as annoyed anymore. Especially when he gets so worried over mere scratches and handles him as if he might actually hurt him with one wrong move.

Soap offers him a choice of three animal Band-Aid’s, giggle on his lips as König chooses the cat one, “It suits you quite well I reckon.”

And if König wears those bandaids with pride and makes sure they’re always on display? Well, nobody’s gonna bring that up with the giant lest they die.

Rodolfo and Alejandro hadn’t met the man yet, both having been on a mission that had gone just a little rougher than they had expected. When they get back they’re both a little reluctant to go to medical, the older lady that had last been there was rough in her proficiency and sometimes you came away with an extra injury you didn’t have before.

But they both walk in and Soap’s there, turning toward them with a smile that drops in favour of worry as he rushes over. He ushers them to sit before going about and collecting his equipment, deciding to tend to Rudy’s head wound first since it seemed a little more severe than Alejandro’s arm.

Soap talks the entire time, voice as soft as his hands and Rudy swears he’s about blow a fuse with how hot his face is getting. The man’s face is so close and he keeps shooting the other these reassuring smiles whenever Rudy finds himself tongue tied in the face of his questions.

Alejandro watches the whole thing with amusement because he’s positive that he’ll be able to pull off talking to the man better than his longtime friend has.

But then Soap’s taking his hand in his own, treating him the same as Rudy and Alejandro finds he can’t remember a damn thing about the English language. He rolls with it though, flustering only slightly as he flirts in Spanish even though he’s positive that Soap doesn’t speak the language. Maybe the man will sense the intention behind the words?

“You’re quite good looking yourself. Did you want me to kiss your wound better as well or just your friends face?” Rudy looks ready to combust with both the words and the sudden language change from the Scotsman, Alejandro not faring much better as he opens and closes his mouth.

Soap laughs at their faces and lord have mercy, they’re both ready to die for this man if he so much as asked it of them. Soap does keep his words, kissing Rudy just right of the cut along his brow while he kisses the back of Alejandro’s hand, just shy of where his injury ends.

The two end up staying in medical just a touch longer since they both fear they’ll pass out if they stand right that second.

Price either sees the interactions or he hears about them from Gaz and he’s honestly a little scared of what might happen if Soap were to actually join the 141 and go into battle with them. These men were willing to kill when Soap had a bad patient, he didn’t want to imagine what could possibly happen if the man got physically injured in any capacity.

[detective-giggles]

Better With You

Hi @marjansmarwani!! I have an exchange fic for you!  I really wasn’t sure which prompt to do and even debated trying to combine prompts 2 & 3, but in the end the hurt/comfort prompt won out. In a convenient 3+1 format! :)  I hope you enjoy! @chaotictarlos: thank you for the beta and helping me when I got stuck! @noxsoulmate: thank you for helping me brainstorm!

******

1.

Carlos doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know this is gonna be a bad day. His head feels like it’s going to explode, and he can’t quite see straight.  

He stumbles into the kitchen and manages to start some coffee before slumping on the couch to wait.

That’s where TK finds him an hour later, having not moved to get the coffee he started, breathing heavily as he tries to fight against the nausea that’s been rising in his stomach since he sat down.

“Babe?” Concerned, TK sits next to him and cradles his face in his hands, no doubt checking for a fever. 

“‘M okay,” Carlos murmurs, waving TK’s hands away but the gesture is weak. “Migraine,” he explains. “I just need a few more minutes; then I’ll get up.” 

“Let’s get you back to bed. I’ll reschedule the appointments,” TK offers. 

“Maybe that’s a good idea.” He sighs, they have meetings with the bakery and a florist today. He doesn’t want to disappoint TK, but he knows he can’t handle leaving the apartment this afternoon. They’ve had this appointment set up with the bakery for weeks, he hopes she can accommodate a different date.

“Come on.” TK stands and reaches out to help Carlos up. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbles. He gets up and hurries to the bathroom.  

Carlos knows TK has seen worse, but he’s grateful that TK gives him a little privacy as he violently empties his stomach. As soon as he’s done, TK swoops in, and he feels a cool towel on the back of his neck. TK uses another one to wipe his forehead, his cheeks, and finally, his mouth. He hands him a water bottle, and Carlos rinses his mouth and takes a couple of small sips.

 “Thank you. I’m sorry,” he adds pathetically, his voice rough.

“It’s okay. Let’s get you back to bed,” TK whispers. 

Carlos stands on shaky legs, and together, they make their way back to the bedroom. 

“Take these,” TK hands him a couple of pills and the bottle of water. He swallows them obediently and then lays face down on the bed and pulls the covers over his head. He sighs, hoping the meds kick in soon so he can sleep through the worst of it. TK presses a kiss to his head and disappears to make the phone calls.

It’s mostly dark when Carlos opens his eyes again. There’s a sliver of light shining through the curtains. 

He's not quite sure how TK got the blackout curtains up without waking him, but he’s relieved. The pain in his head is better but not gone completely.

He rolls over and TK is there next to him, sitting up in bed, silently playing on his phone. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “How are you feeling, babe?”

“Still hurts, but I don’t feel sick anymore.” 

TK makes him take another sip of water, and he lays down again, resting his head against TK’s thigh. TK rubs his back and he shifts uncomfortably, unable to fall back asleep. 

“Want me to hold you?” TK asks. 

“Please.” 

“Okay,” TK agrees. He sets his phone aside before slipping under the covers. He curls his body around his fiancé, and Carlos is finally able to relax enough to fall asleep again.

2.

“Reyes!” Carlos stops dribbling the basketball and pivots toward the voice yelling his name. There’s an opening and he bounces the ball with force to his teammate. She catches it, then shoots, earning them another two points.

“Nice job!” 

He hurries over and gives Detective Jones a high-five before pausing at the benches and taking a large swig from his water bottle. 

He takes a second to peek at his phone. TK should be meeting him any time and they’ll walk home together. While he enjoys his weekly pick-up basketball game at the precinct with some of his fellow officers, he enjoys the evening walk home with TK more. 

They play for a few more minutes and he manages to make two more baskets for his team.

Having a moment to breathe between baskets, he pauses and pulls the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face, and as he does he hears a wolf whistle coming from the direction of the benches. He knows it’s TK, even without the accompanying playful teasing that comes from the guys.

Still, he looks over and smiles as TK takes a seat on the bench, ready to watch Carlos finish up his game. As he gives TK a little wave, he hears his name getting called and he turns, too late. Merely moments after he turns, his face explodes in pain.

Carlos staggers backward, and, in his daze, it takes a bit to realize the basketball is the culprit. He’s surrounded in a matter of seconds; by teammates trying to make sure he’s okay and, of course, TK. 

TK stops in front of him, trying to lead him to the bench and starting to assess the damage. A couple of officers run off to fetch ice and a towel while TK pokes at his face which doesn’t help as much as it hurts. 

He’s unsure what hurts more, his face or his pride, and he hisses in pain as TK examines him. He knows he’ll wind up swollen for a couple of days, but he just hopes nothing’s broken. 

Jones is back with the first aid kit and a clean towel, and TK uses it to wipe some of the blood off his face. 

“I don’t think your nose is broken,” TK says. “We should probably go to the hospital to be sure, though.” 

A patrol officer Carlos has worked with a few times, and the one Carlos is fairly certain threw the ball, returns with a bag of ice and offers to drive them, but he declines emphatically.

He hisses as TK presses the ice to his face. “I’m okay. It’s my fault. I should have been paying attention.”

“Instead of being distracted by your boy toy over there,” Lexi teases.

“Come on then, let’s get you home,” TK says. 

They take the ride offered by Carlos’ partner and promise to call her if they need anything. TK carries Carlos’ bag while he focuses on keeping the ice on his face, and they make their way into the elevator. 

“Sorry I distracted you, babe,” TK finally says. 

“It was my fault,” Carlos says. He settles on the sofa while TK rummages through the freezer. He finally joins Carlos on the sofa with a bag of frozen vegetables, and Carlos would laugh if he wasn’t sure it would hurt so much. 

TK just shrugs, “it’s softer than ice cubes. It’ll work.”

Carlos doesn’t care at this point, if it helps his face from swelling up and the pain is some of the worst that he’s ever felt - he’ll take it. He lays down, settling his head in TK’s lap, and TK gently places the bag of veggies on his face. 

“They’re not going to let you live this down, are they?”

“Not anytime soon,” Carlos admits.

3.

Carlos sits at the edge of the bed and pouts. He desperately wishes he was at home in his own bed, with TK’s arms around him. 

Instead, he’s all alone in the ER waiting for the doctor to return and finish his stitches - which is taking longer than he would like for it to.  

He wonders if his partner has called TK, or if that’s been left for him to do himself when they release him. He hopes that someone called TK and told him what was going on, with how slow the doctor was going he’s definitely going to be late for dinner and he doesn’t want TK to worry.

He’s nauseous and Carlos knows that’s a bad sign. He groans and his fingers lightly brush the plastic emesis bag the nurse had left for him before leaving him alone for a few minutes for the local anesthetic to kick in. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths hoping that will help calm his stomach and when he opens them again TK’s standing just inside the curtain.

“Oh, babe,” TK crosses the small space between them and wraps his arms around Carlos.  

Carlos knows the look he’s getting from TK well. TK’s eyes and hands frantically roam over his body as he checks for any additional injuries that the doctors might have missed. TK never believes that Carlos is okay until he checks him out for himself.  

“I’m okay,” Carlos insists. “Just a little bump on the head.”

TK evaluates the wound on Carlos’ forehead. “I’m thinking that’s going to take at least five stitches, Carlos, that’s not nothing.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was serving papers and I don’t even know what happened.”

“You don’t know or you don’t remember?” TK frowns and he knows he should mention the concussion but instead Carlos just shrugs.

TK gives a little sigh as he hugs Carlos tightly. “Do you need anything?”

“Just you. I feel better now that you’re here.”

“You big softie,” TK teases.

“How does it feel to be on that side of the exam table?” Carlos asks.

“Not good,” TK murmurs. “I hate seeing you hurting.”

TK steps back as a nurse joins them, setting out everything they’ll need for the stitches. 

“Why are you sitting up, Mr. Reyes?” The nurse gently guides him so he’s settled back in the bed. “The doctor will be right in, and then we’ll get you checked in,” he says.

“You’re admitting him?” TK asks, surprised and he turns to look at Carlos. “What didn’t you tell me? Did you lose consciousness?”

“Twice,” the nurse chirps. “Once on scene and once in my ER.”

“Carlos!”

“I’m fine,” he insists. 

TK opens his mouth, likely to protest, when the doctor walks in. TK doesn’t argue, but slides to the head of the bed and sits, slipping his hand into Carlos’ for comfort.  He stays silent while the doctor stitches up Carlos’ forehead. It’s a quick affair and it doesn’t hurt the way Carlos expects it to, but Carlos squeezes TK’s hand the whole time.

“They’re almost ready for you upstairs, officer. We’ll keep you overnight for observation and do another CT scan in the morning.” The nurse pushes in a wheelchair and Carlos sighs.

“Another CT? How hard were you hit?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles. He clumsily slides off the bed and TK steadies him until he gets settled in the wheelchair whispering something about hospital policy.

“I’ll call your parents and then I’ll be up.” Carlos gives a half-nod, even though he really doesn’t want to be alone. 

It takes longer for him to change and climb into bed than he thought it would. Getting comfortable is a joke, but he tries to relax and wait for TK. He doesn’t have to wait long, however, TK joins him in minutes. 

“Tell me a story,” Carlos says, closing his eyes. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t walk to talk. I like hearing your voice,” Carlos explains.  

“Okay,” TK says. He joins Carlos in the bed that’s not really big enough for two, and talks.

+1

Carlos’ radio crackles to life.

“RA 126… We need APD assistance in the kitchen.” It’s Tommy’s voice, calm as always. He can vaguely make out Nancy’s voice in the background but she doesn’t sound as calm.  

He grabs another officer’s attention, a rookie, and turns him back toward the residence they had just cleared.

“Go,” he orders. He draws his firearm, holding it at a low ready, and follows him into the house.  The new officer stops suddenly, just past the threshold of the kitchen, and Carlos would have bumped into him if he hadn’t been on high alert.

Just past the rookie, he sees Nancy and Tommy kneeling - TK lying in a pool of blood between them.  

“Dude came up the basement stairs,” Nancy says, not taking her eyes off TK. “He had a knife.” She jerks her head towards the open screen door. “Went out the back.”

Carlos whips around, stepping towards the other officer. “I thought you cleared the basement?” he asks.

“I-I-I did!” He insists, taking a step away from a very angry Carlos.

Carlos cocks his head to the side and steps towards him, backing him against the counter. He sees Tommy coming towards them in his peripherals, but keeps his focus on the young officer. “You did? Then why is my husband-”

“Carlos!” Tommy’s hand is on his shoulder, gently pulling him back. “Let your sergeant deal with him.” Carlos glances to the side and sees TK reaching for him, despite Nancy’s efforts to keep him still.  

He turns back towards the rookie. “Get back up and search the area.” 

“Yes, sir.” Carlos steps aside and the younger officer hurries past, shouting into his radio. 

“TK?” Carlos turns and kneels at TK’s side, smoothing his hair back and caressing his cheek softly. Up close, it looks worse than he thought, but TK is moving and talking and laughing at him, so he hopes it’s not life-threatening.

“You were really giving him the business,” TK chuckles. 

“He had one job, TK, keeping you three safe.”

“Two outta three isn’t bad,” TK jokes. “Besides, I’ll be okay.”

“You always are.”

Carlos watches anxiously as Nancy and Tommy load TK onto a stretcher, prepping him for transport. 

“You coming?” Tommy asks. 

TK chuckles again. “That’s a dumb question. Of course, he is. I need him. He’s always here when I need him.”  Carlos follows Tommy and climbs into the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital takes ages and yet, in no time, TK is being ripped away from him and whisked up to surgery, and Carlos is shuttled to the waiting room with the rest of the 126. He tries to collapse into a chair but Paul stops him and pulls him into the bathroom, helping him wash the blood from his hands. 

He sits and waits, paces and waits, but mostly waits. 

“Mr. Reyes-Strand?”

“Yes?” Carlos jumps up. “Is he-”

“Surgery went well. He’s awake and asking for you.” Carlos sighs with relief and hurries down the hallway. “He needs to rest, but you can have a few minutes with him.”

Carlos agrees and before he steps into the room, he can see TK’s already reaching for him. 

“See, babe, I told you I’d be okay.”

“You did,” Carlos laughs and sniffles. “Are you in any pain?”

“A fair amount,” TK admits. 

Carlos starts to pull away. “I’ll grab the doctor.”

TK keeps a tight grip on his hand. “Later. Right now, all I want is you.”

Carlos nods. He sits on the edge of the bed as best he can, and holds his husband.

[north-blue-hearts]

Family Practice

CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law

CW: sex, language, violence

Summary: Modern Mafia-coded AU starts in last semester of College

Chapter 3: You Bet

“Yes, I’ll be there for the party,” you say, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you’re unpacking into your hotel room. “I promise Marco, I’ll even wear a dress. I just needed to get my friend off campus, and I’m trying to help him relax for the first time in his little emo life, so there’s no way I’m exposing him to Luffy and Ace and Thatch.”

“Alright, (y/n),” you can hear Marco’s lazy smile through the phone. “If anything happens, don’t hesitate to call. You know who all is going to be in town for the party, so don’t try to face anything down by yourself, yoi.”

“Aye, Aye.” You answer. “Love you Marco, give my regards to the boys, and warn them-.”

Marco laughed. “They won’t bother you unprompted, I promise. Love you too, (y/n), stay safe.”

You hang up in time for a knock on the door between your room and the one next door. You turn the handle and open the door, stepping back to what you were doing.

“I’m almost done.” You assure him. “Nothing embarrassing left to put away, so you can safely enter.”

“I can’t imagine you being embarrassed by anything.” He admits with a scoff, leaning against the door frame.

You laugh. “Okay, growing up around a bunch of rowdy boys, I will admit there’s not a whole lot that bothers me anymore. In truth, I was worried about your delicate sensibilities, Pre-Med.”

“You lifted my shirt without warning!” He barked, knowing exactly what you were picking him on for.

You grinned. “I still feel bad about that.”

“You look it.” He grumbled.

You can’t stop the laugh as you get the last of your things put away. “I can feel bad and be amused at the same time.”

“Tch. I’m here now, what’s the secret itinerary you wouldn’t show me before we got here?”

“Calling it an itinerary is maybe giving me more credit than I deserve.” You admit. “Dinner tonight at Sanji’s café, tomorrow I figured I’d give you a tour of the city, maybe swing through Binks’ Carnival. There’s a bonfire festival tomorrow night to end the day. After that I figured we could play it by ear. There’s tons of stuff in the city, so if something catches your interest while we’re out, just let me know.”

“… What’s a bonfire festival?”

“Stall food, big bon fire, music, dancing – stuff like that. Happens after the sun goes down.”

“I… don’t dance.”

You smile. “I won’t force you, but you don’t need to know how to dance to bounce around a bonfire. Even if you don’t let me drag you around a dangerously large fire to the sounds of music played by half-drunk musicians with nothing better to do, I’d still like for you experience it.”

“That’s acceptable.”

“If you don’t dance, what do you do to stay in shape?”

“Aside from dragging sixteen credit hours of books around campus?” He asks ruefully, before continuing to answer honestly. “Parkour, kendo, kick-boxing.”

“That explains your physique.” You muse, your eyebrows are raised. “I enjoy parkour – at least around the city, and I’m pretty decent at MMA. I mean, I haven’t had a need to do any fights for money since I enrolled, but I could.”

“You don’t look like a fighter.”

“And you look more like a gangster than a doctor,” you grin. “Ready?”

He grunts.

So far, the best part about dragging Law to the city during break was seeing him in off-campus mode. A lot of his classwork had become practical, so he was often dressed up more than most students, so that his appearance was appropriate for any off-campus of patient-facing work. But here, he was all jeans and t-shirts, hoodies and boots, and a fluffy white hat that suited him entire too well.

And one day you were going to successfully snag it. At least long enough to grab a quick picture or two with it on. All you knew for certain was that Bepo, Penguin and Sachi had pooled their money when the four of them were young and replaced a hat that Law had liked so much, he’d worn it to pieces. Which meant your careful planning needed to include no harm this new hat in any way.

You spend most of the walk to Sanji’s café explaining the city as you know it to Law. You point out the streets that would lead to other areas, including where the carnival was located. You told him stories about your brothers, dodging the additional detail of the whole criminal underground mafia thing.

“Are all your brothers adopted?”

“Yeah, if Pops has any biological kids, I’ve never heard of ‘em.” You admit. “It’s not impossible though, he’s up there in age, I’m sure he had plenty of living in him before he adopted Marco Polo.”

“… Is your brother’s name really-.”

“Ah, no, sorry. Marco Polo is what I call Marco and Thatch. They’re twins. I mean, they look nothing alike, but they were born at the same time.” You explain.

“Do you have nicknames for everyone?”

“Mm, most folks, I guess. Anyway, there’s Marco, Thatch, Ace, Sabo, and Luffy – from oldest to youngest.”

“And their nicknames?”

You laugh, “Sure, but careful if you ever use ‘em. You know the first two, Ace’s is Spade, Sabo is Cinnamon Roll, and Luffy’s is Mugiwara. It was ‘Rue-ffy,” you explain, over annunciating the changed syllable, “But then he made friends with Shanks, and then Shanks gave him a straw hat as a gift, and he’s been obsessed since.”

“And Shanks is?”

You flinch. “Kind of a shady guy,” you admit. “I mean, I’d trust him to have my back, since I haven’t done anything bad to him, but he’s kind of intense, and well, Luffy is Luffy, so they get along on this weird wave-length I don’t get. It’s like a mentor-mentee thing with a side of rivalry, or a rivalry with a side of mentor-mentee.”

You walked to the café door and held it open for Law, “And with impeccable timing, here we are.” You say with a flourish and a bow. “Beauty before age, or something.”

Law grunts as he walks by and into the café. You two were close in age, but he did have you beat by a bit. There aren’t a whole lot of people in the café, and you tense up when you see who’s helping Sanji today.

“Aw, crumbs.” You mutter under your breath, and only Law hears you.

“Ah, Miss (y/n)!” The blonde behind the counter waved at you once he recognized you.

You made a face, and a noise in response, but he didn’t catch either. He was currently in the midst of trying to wink and failing miserably.

“Stop trying to wink, Duval.” You said at the same time as another blonde man, who came out from the kitchen with a scowl on his face.

You put your arms up in an exaggerated motion. “Saaaaanji-Swan!”

The new blonde perked up and beamed at you. “(Y/N)-chawn!” He exclaimed in your same tone of voice. He came out from behind the counter and hugged you. “Welcome back, you’re on break, right?”

“Yeah, and this,” you say, stepping back from Sanji and pointing to Trafalgar Law, “Is my college friend, Mr. Trafalgar.”

“You can call me Law,” he said, extending his hand for a shake.

Sanji returns the gesture, “Welcome to my café, Law, let’s get your date started.” He says with a smile.

“Not a date, Sanji.” You say sternly. “I specifically said, not a date when I told you we were coming by.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I feel like I’m going to have this conversation a lot.”

“Sorry, sorry – seat yourself, Duval will get your order soon.”

“Why Duval?” You ask, realizing how terrible it sounds you clarify, walking over to a table that catches your fancy. “Why did you hire Duval, I mean.”

“You’re in college. I needed an extra set of hands for rush hours. Nami’s helping Robin, and that idiot’s getting his delivery service going. You hear that Eustass and Killer got the deed for the shop?”

“Really?! That’s great, I’ll have to find time to congratulate him before I go back.”

“I hear he’s going to be at the Christmas Party.” Sanji added.

“Mm, that’ll work out. You too?”

“Probably. Nami wanted to go this year. You should come too, Law.” Sanji said as Law sat down. “There’s so many people there, one more won’t hurt anything.”

“I’m trying to help him relax, Sanji.” You said, realizing this was another conversation you were going to have a lot while you were back home.

Sanji put his hands up in defeat. “Point made.”

“Do you know everyone?” Law questions as he picks up a menu, and his tone says he expects you to say yes.

“Hardly,” you start counting people off on your fingers. “Sanji, Zoro, Nami, Eustass and I were in school together from middle school to high school, along with Ace and Sabo. Luffy’s a couple years younger, and he has some friends from his grade that are mixed in there too. Killer’s a couple years older, but he’s been friends with Eustass since they were kids, and Killer became friends with Heat and Wire. Killer, Kid – er Eustass – Heat and Wire always wanted to open a mechanic shop.”

“And Duval?” Law asks, looking past you to the counter, and holding up his index finger.

“… First boyfriend.” You answer. Your face and your tone match, and you see a curious and bemused expression cross Law’s face briefly.

“I’d ask what happened, but it seems my attempt to stall was misinterpreted.” Law says, looking down to the menu as you hear Duval come up behind you.

“What can I get the cute couple today?”

“Could you ask Sanji if he can do an onigiri basket for us, instead of a sandwich basket?” You ask, looking up with the best smile you can manage to will onto your face.

“Sure!” Duval replied cheerfully and headed into the back.

You take in a breath and let it out. “I’ll tell you, only if you promise to be nice to Duval.”

“… Considering how much you’re struggling; I don’t know if I can agree to that.”

“I mean, he’s paid his debt, at least.”

“Is that why he looks like he’s having a stroke when he tries to wink?”

You scoff. “He could never wink. No, uh, he got his face rearranged so bad it took a couple surgeries to correct. Duval didn’t always look that way.” You pull out your phone and start scrolling. After a moment you get far back enough to find a picture of pre-operation Duval and show it to Law.

“He changed entirely.” Law looked legitimately impressed.

“Mm.” You agree, putting your phone back.

There was silence between you for a moment and Duval came back to say that Sanji could do as you had requested and was already started on it. You ordered some drinks to go along with it and went back to your silence until Law broke it.

“I promise to keep my cool, what happened?”

You look up for a moment before looking down at your hands. “Duval was a dumb teenager, and we were all dumb teenagers, and dumb teenagers don’t know when to back off. He didn’t do anything unforgivable, but things escalated slowly over about six weeks, and he was maybe about to do something unforgivable. Duval’s got me on reach, and I was cocky about my fighting abilities and at the end of the day, Sanji and Luffy walked in on things and sent Duval to the hospital.”

Anger and confusion flashed across Law’s face, and confusion won out. “Sanji hired him?”

“A couple years after that Duval ended up saving my life.” You say, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “So yeah, we’ve all forgiven him. I just… it’s awkward.”

“Understandably.” Law’s quiet for a moment. “I feel like we need a bet.”

You smile, “I imagine so.” You weren’t surprised, it was obvious that you weren’t getting into the details of having nearly died easily. Winning a bet would give Law the right to ask whatever he wanted. “What did you have in mind?”

“Something completely up to chance,” he said. “I bet something will happen that will require me to attend the Christmas Party. If nothing happens and I don’t go – as planned – then you win.”

“That’s an interesting situation,” you admit with a smile. “I wouldn’t mind you coming to the party, but then I’d lose the bet. You’d prefer to avoid attendance, but then you’d lose the bet.” You laugh. “Seriously, all our bets so far have been like this.”

“I think we’d both manage to find loopholes otherwise.” He admits a soft smile before he takes a drink.

“Alright, I’ll accept, but under one condition.”

He gives you an inquisitive look.

“Let me drag you around the bonfire tomorrow night.”

“Only if I can ask two questions if I win.”

“Sure,” You agree with a smile.

The rest of the evening went smoothly. You enjoyed a variety of onigiri from Sanji and left pleasantly full. You shook Duval’s hand when you left, but you didn’t correct him on his couple’s assumption, and neither did Law.

You pointed out a few more places on the way back to the hotel, but the pace was a little quicker since the sun had set. It wasn’t freezing cold out, it didn’t get that cold in the city, but it was significantly colder with the sundown. Law seemed mostly unbothered by it, but his longer legs meant he could still walk while you jogged beside him.

“How’re you – not even breathing – heavy,” you questioned, catching your breath as you reached the hotel.

“I have a few classes I need to run to get to on time.” He admits, and your relieved to at least see he’s breathing heavier than usual.

“Running with books,” you catch your breath. “I guess that’s a decent daily workout routine.”

“I’m impressed you kept up.”

“My jog turned into a run a couple of times, but I grew up bouncing off the alleys of this city, so I’m actually embarrassed I was breathing so hard earlier.” You admit, pulling out the key card for your room. “I think I’m going to enjoy the luxuries of the room and sleep an indecently long number of hours.”

Law smiles softly, “Sleep well, (y/n)-ya.” He says, unlocking his door, pushing it open with his back, and stepping backward into the room.

“Same to you, Pre-med.” You say, unlocking your door and walking into your hotel room.

The door closes behind you, and you stand in the little hallway for a moment. Law’s smile had reached his eyes and was stuck in your head. You shook the image away, dismissing it. College students with rooms next door to one another, it was just the setting getting to you.

He was good looking; you’d admitted as much to him as soon as you had met him. Getting to know him hadn’t diminished that, but the last time you let someone get close, you nearly died, and you had the scar and tattoo to remind you.

[cleoselene]

had a meeting with my neurologist today, the 3 month long talk meeting we have, and lmao. he just got back from vacation in Italy and I was like, "did you have a nice trip?" and he was like "ehhhhhh! I was on a plane for 23 hours to look at some old church! I would have rather stayed home with my dog." and I was like looool. I feel this. Then he started saying how it was depressing to look at the old medieval church shit, saying "some guy 500 years ago spent his whole life making this one part of the church. and that was his WHOLE LIFE!" and I was all "well... I suppose it's better than toiling in the fields for your lord?"

I think he really enjoys my visits because we spend most of it having bullshit conversation. the nurses have told me that they enjoy younger patients like me because a lot of the older patients have bad dementia and can't really hold a conversation. after Italy bashing, we had a discussion about the Great Depression Midwestern Casseroles we were raised on in our childhoods. His mom was a cream of chicken soup lady, though, whereas my household was always on the cream of mushroom side. Horrible fucking food, lol. Just the worst.

anyway, another reason I love him is because he is EQUALLY as over the bullshit the state of Florida makes us go through to secure my 120 pain pills every month. He HATES that he can't put in refills anymore, lol, and today I asked him to refill it like I do every month, and CVS sent me a text later in the day saying I needed to contact them because the prescription was "on hold." And I'm like bzuh? and then I notice my doc submitted the script three times when I went online, and called and hahaha. He submitted three SEPARATE scripts for the next three months to get around the "no refills" thing and this is something that CVS is very 50/50 about handling lol. In the past they have let him do it but they have also been like "lol NO" when he's tried it before too. Tonight the pharmacist got utterly confused by it and did not understand what the doctor was doing and said that insurance tried to process it three times, which lol. All because he doesn't feel like having to send an electronic script every month. I FEEL U, DOC. THE HOOPS THEY PUT SICK PEOPLE THROUGH TO GET MEDS ARE SO FUCKED.

but like, bless him? he NEVER gives me shit about maintaining my script, never tells me maybe I should wean myself off, never whines about the state putting pressure on him. He just fills it and lets me have what I need. I hate hate hate Florida but I am seriously worried that when I move my next neurologist will not be as totally awesome as mine. It wasn't like I got lucky with him, either, I cycled through three other neurologists (none of whom were MS specialists and weren't even capable of properly diagnosing me let alone treating me) before I found my guy! And he's just about the sweetest person you could meet and brings his aforementioned dog he'd rather hang out with than visit the Vatican to work with him sometimes. The good news is he networks like crazy and probably will be able to refer me to someone great. His referrals are always awesome, too. He does a lot of travel and speaking at conferences because he's a clinical researcher so he knows people, and I'm hoping he'll know the right person to refer me to when the time comes to escape this hellscape state

[ghostzzy]

izzy update:

1. turns out i’m dying because my new (already lower) dose of zoloft tablet has been improperly manufactured -- i was the 17th person my psychiatrist has seen in the last two week who has shit out on their meds because of this. so if u take zoloft tablets produced by cipla (it’ll say on ur bottle) and suddenly ur shit isn’t working anymore, talk to your doctor abt getting a capsule version or going brand for a bit. 

anyway all this is to say, i’m not crazy, i didn’t do anything wrong, i just got unlucky with a bad batch of pills, and the timing of it lining up with my pms means i was probably absorbing almost no zoloft at all, essentially throwing my body into cold-turkey withdrawal. i’m gonna get back on my higher dose capsules for now and i’ll go back to tapering down when we can get our hands on some meds that aren’t fucking busted. 

2. i scheduled an appointment for next week with a neurological rehab that may be able to help with my dysautonomia -- i’m skeptical but tentatively hopeful, the methods make sense to me and this clinic has exclusively positive reviews from patients with chronic pain and fatigue. no clue if my insurance is going to cover any of it though but like. fingers crossed and will keep you guys posted.

3. i also cleaned my room, cooked lunch, washed the dishes, took out the recycling, and didn’t cry at all today. the power of taking a sick day tbh. i’m really proud of myself for getting all this done and handled and getting things back on track now that i know what’s wrong and what we’re doing to fix it. i should only feel This Bad for a few more days and then things will start to be good again. 

[cluelesswritings]

Adjusting

So I got too emotional about Adaine and Jawbone and accidentally wrote 1.4k words about it. Light tw for Adaine’s parent-related trauma, but mostly this is about her and Jawbone, who is a good dad. Fic below the cut, or you can read on ao3 here!

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

 It takes 2 days for Adaine to move into Jawbone's apartment. Only about an hour of that is spent moving her actual things - most of those were burned with her house, so she's left with just the bag she brought to Gilear's place after Aelwyn was arrested plus whatever was left at school or scattered around the other Bad Kids' houses. The rest of the two days are spent picking out furniture essentials and hauling them into the second bedroom, Tracker's room. Adaine still couldn't think of it as her room too.

 Every time a cashier lists off their total for whatever it is they're buying Adaine cringes, half expects Jawbone to turn and tell her that he's changed his mind, that he can't afford to care for another kid and she'll have to find someplace else to go. But every time he just nods, smiles at her, and puts the gold on the counter. And every time Adaine shrinks into herself a little more.

 She's confused, is the thing, and her stomach is a constant roiling sea of half guilt half hope. Her parents made it very clear that raising her was a burden. And they had to bear it, up until they decided they didn’t anymore, because they gave birth to her, but Jawbone has no such obligation. There's no reason for him to smile at her in the mornings, or for him to buy her the blue-purple comforter she liked, or for him to hold her when she cries after leaving her first psychiatrist's appointment. And Adaine isn't dumb. She knows her mom and dad were awful, and can tell from watching the way her friends talk to their parents that the things Jawbone does for her are the things any half-decent parent would do. Except he isn't her parent. So for the life of her, Adaine can't understand why he's doing this for her. She's confused and she's happy and grateful, but even with the meds she's started she feels anxiety claw at her throat every time Jawbone so much as says hello. She still spends most of her days waiting for the bubble to burst.

 It takes 4 days living with Jawbone and Tracker before Adaine starts stress-cleaning. She feels a burning in her hands, a need to be useful. So she casts Mending on the torn old couch and on the crack in the TV from an especially bad transformation of Tracker's; she deep cleans the bathroom the first weekend and the living room the second; every night after they eat dinner, usually with Kristen there as well, she hops up and starts washing dishes before anyone else gets the chance. She's good at it, methodical and thorough. One of the few things her parents taught her to do right. And though her hands start to get chapped with all the cleaning supplies, the buzzing burning beneath her skin fades when she's being productive. It's a trade she's happy to make.

 Jawbone looks at her funny every time he sees her cleaning, with some combination of gratitude and puzzlement, but he doesn't mention it until 3 weeks into living together. The school year is winding down - they got a week break after defeating Kalvaxus, but they still had to come back to finish all their classes and exams. After killing a dragon, finals kind of lose their intensity, but Adaine still spends most her days studying. It's a Thursday evening, though, the second to last day of school, and she just finished (and definitely aced, though she wouldn't say that out loud) her last test. Jawbone made her favorite kind of pasta to celebrate, and he, Adaine, Tracker, and Kristen all talk and laugh loudly around the table.

 When everyone's finished eating, Adaine springs up to start cleaning up like she always does. Only this time, Jawbone follows her to the sink, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder to stop her.

 "Hey, why don't you let me handle the dishes tonight? Thought you and your friends were supposed to be meetin' up at Bastar's right about now."

 Adaine starts, caught off guard. Then she shrugs, trying to inject as much nonchalance as she can into the gesture. "Oh no, it's fine, I don't mind. It won't take me very long or anything, I'll just be a few minutes late. It's - it's fine."

 Jawbone shakes his head, a somewhat incredulous smile on his lips. "Kiddo, you've been doing the dishes for the last three weeks," he says. "Not to mention the rest of this apartment's cleaner than it's been in… hell, probably since before I moved in! I got it tonight, okay? Go have fun with your friends."

 Adaine smiles at that, but she's still tense, and her hands still burn with compulsion. She rubs her forearm with her hand. Ever insightful, Jawbone must see her hesitating, because he kneels down to look her in the eyes, placing a second hand on her other shoulder and holding her in his gentle unyielding gaze.

 "Look Adaine," he says, soft, "I'm not sayin' I don't appreciate the help, because I do, but I'm also worried about you. I mean, I have never seen a kid so enthusiastic about doing chores before. Hell, when I was your age, cleaning was the last thing I wanted to do. I'd much rather spend my time getting fucked up in an alley, or running a secret cock fighting ring beneath the bleachers after dark."

 "Wait, you ran a cock fighting ring in high school?" Adain interrupts, going from anxious to very confused all at once.

 "Yes, until I got suspended for it but that's not the point, Adaine. The point is if there's something bothering you, you should talk to me about it, alright? That's what I'm here for."

 Adaine stands silent for a minute, stock still. She swallows. Looks down.

 "It's nothing," she says finally. "Just - I want to be helpful. It's not like I can - can pay rent, or anything, and you've been so amazing, letting me stay here for a while," and here she starts to well up with tears, and god that's embarrassing, so she squeezes her eyes closed and hopes they don't fall. "And you've been just, so much kinder than you need to be and I want to make it up to you. So I'm just trying to be helpful." She sniffs, once.

 When she opens her eyes, Jawbone is staring at her with a look she can't begin to read, and a single tear in his eye. He shakes his head for the second time in this conversation, fond and sympathetic.

 "Sweetheart," he starts, and oh man Adaine's going to start crying for real, "I didn't invite you to live here because I wanted something from you. I did it because you're a sweet kid, and you deserve a place to go that's safe, and because I care about you. I mean, even if you could afford rent I wouldn't take it. And yknow, you helped me out when I was in a dark place. Talked some sense into me, and all that. So if it makes it easier for you at first, you could think of this as repayment for that, but that's not what this is. I want you to live with us, kiddo! I like having you around! I don't need… repayment, or whatever it is you're trying to give. You can just treat this place like your home, because it is."

 The dam breaks when he says that, and Adaine rushes into his open arms, tears running down her face. Kristen and Tracker have long since disappeared into the bedroom, so it's just the two of them as he holds her, pats her on the back while shaky breaths rack her whole body. His fur tickles her face where it's buried in his shoulder. It's the most comforting sensation she's ever felt.

 Eventually she regains enough composure to pull away, hiccuping slightly. Jawbone grins, ruffles her hair one last time before standing up and stretching his arms.

 "Alright then," he says. "Now why don't you go wash your face, and I'll take you, Kristen, and Tracker to Basrar's. Sound like a plan?"

 Adaine nods, wiping her eyes. She does as he says, and spends about 5 minutes knocking on the bedroom door before a decidedly disheveled Tracker and Kristen emerge. They still end up arriving several minutes after everyone else, but she doesn't mind. She's happy and relaxed, sitting with her best friends on the eve of the last day of freshman year, going out with and going home to people who like having her around.

 The next night, Tracker does the dishes.

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 153

Achilles Castle part 55

The reunion part 2

Ryan: pov yeah she is my Captain and Esposito's he is a sergeant we work at the 12th together our former boss Victoria got promoted to deputy chief and our other boss Roy died in the line of duty. Greg asks if we want to see photos Timmy just sent of their father's huge scar, saying it looks so cool. No offense but no I don't think me, Kate or Esposito will be able to handle looking at it. Kate looks a little green at the thought. Annie tells Greg to stop it. Ben says let's change the subject. Greg wants to know if any of us have ever been shot besides him and Ben. He says whoever has been shot the most or got shot the worst buys the drinks. Greg has been shot in the vest and arm a lot. Kate looks uncomfortable. I accidentally shot Esposito in the butt during a case. I also jumped in front of a bullet for Esposito once it was just after i accidently shot him and took it in the vest.

Stewart was loading his gun and shot himself in the foot. Technically it grazed his foot but hey it counts.

Annie: pov I've never been shot, maybe it's because my partner Brad is so great. Greg says Kate was always too pretty to get shot, probably doesn't even know what it feels like to be shot. Probably hides behind one of the boys or her desk. He starts laughing Greg was always a jerk, he says the youngest woman to make detective i always wondered who's pants you got in. I know Kate is about to explode with anger because the fact that she is here today is a miracle, her shooting was very bad and a lot of police witnessed it. She almost didn't make it. Kate is definitely angry. She stands up and starts screaming at Greg.

Jack: pov Kate says how dare you say that about me, like hell you don't know what it feels like to die twice. Or be shot in the heart so shut up. You want to know what trauma is going into cardiac arrest twice and having to have emergency surgery that's trauma. Not being able to sleep at night from nightmares, having to watch what you eat, being on a bunch of meds, follow up appointments that go on for years, physical therapy, physical limitations, people you love worrying about you. How you can't even enjoy fireworks anymore because they are so damn triggering for you. Thunderstorms freaking me out. How someone being sick can easily result in a hospital visit. That's my life now Greg so laugh all you want. Esposito says to Kate, calm down, it's not good for you to get this worked up.

Kate: pov I'm so angry, Esposito is trying to calm me down. Ben says did you just say shot in the heart. Yes I was giving the eulogy at my Captain's funeral, Roy Montgomery's when it happened. Ben says that must have been traumatizing for you, Esposito and Ryan go into more details about what happened leading up to my shooting and my moms murder. Everyone is ordering food. Um excuse me waiter, I just want to let you know I have a heart condition and can't eat certain foods like fried food, spicy food or anything with a lot of salt. The waiter says he will let the chef know. The guy's are staring at me, Annie tells them to stop. Ben wants to know what happened if it is okay with me. I had severe chest trauma from my shooting. I was shot in the chest/heart by a sniper and almost didn't make it. Went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance. It was so severe I had to have a chest tube placed, to drain the blood from my chest and help my collapsed lung work. I was rushed into emergency heart surgery to repair my heart. The bullet hit my left inferior pulmonary vein and left ventricle causing my heart to fill with blood. I then went into cardiac arrest again. They had to use the internal paddles. I then flatlined the cardiac surgeon had to do manual heart massages to bring me back to life. I was on disability for 3 months and have PTSD. My ptsd is unique because it's two different forms of it, one is from my shooting and the other is from my cardiac arrest. Which is actually common in shooting and cardiac arrest cases.

Esposito: pov We chat while we wait for our food to arrive. Ben elbows Greg and he says why should i apologize for what i said earlier i did nothing wrong. Jack says so about your heart condition, was that from your shooting, Kate says yes. She also has an issue with her left lung since it's collapsed before and has a weakened immune system. A loud crash near our table has Kate flinching and rubbing her chest. It's okay Kate, it was just a stack of empty plates you're fine. Thankfully it only startled her. A concerned Annie asks if Kate is okay because she was rubbing her chest, she says I'm fine it just startled me that's all.

Ben: pov after eating I ask if Jack and Stewart can give me a hand outside. My sister in law owns a candy/coffee shop so I got you guys a candy/coffee sample basket. I have no idea if Kate can even eat or drink this stuff. Jack and Stewart put their gift baskets in their cars.

Greg: pov Kate is looking at her gift basket, Esposito says Castle can drink the coffee and eat the chocolate. After looking at the ingredients on the stuff he says you can have the popcorn, rice crispy treat and gummy bears. Ben says, can Kate not have chocolate? Esposito says yeah it actually has some caffeine in it, Ryan is taking the black licorice out of his basket and Kate's.

Jack: pov Esposito is also taking the black licorice out of his own basket, Greg says what you don't like black licorice. He says no it almost killed Kate. We decided to part ways and say goodnight, tonight was fun. To be continued. ……..

[siemprecambiando-blog]

June 15, 2016

I have to look at my phone at least 3 times to know what day it is. My eyes are sore. I haven't tried speaking, but based on how badly my throat is burning, I don't imagine I could muster anything louder than a hoarse whisper. I caught a glimpse of myself while leaving the bathroom, and there's no amount of concealer that could hide the sunken dark circles under my bloodshot eyes. Not that I'm one for caring about my appearance, but this was bad, even for me.

I would've let my phone die, but that would interrupt the music that's been blaring nonstop for the last three days. I opted to put it on airplane mode instead. Between the texts, the tweets, and news updates, I couldn't take it anymore. I'm always the one checking in, but I can't, not this time.

I feel like I got jumped by an entire fucking gang. This is the most sore I've ever been. I feel like that's one of the less talked about symptoms of a depressive episode. Sure everyone knows about how mentally exhausting it is, but my body *hurts*. I guess drinking on my meds isn't the best idea, especially right now, but I couldn't be bothered to care. At least I'm still taking them.

I've made the floor of my livingroom my home. The front of the couch is my only support. That and the bottle of Modelo that I'm holding with both hands, fingers interlocked. I wouldn't have known someone was beating at the door given the volume of my music, but I could see it vibrating from across the way. That and I saw the bottom locks turn; whoever it was had a key. I knew it was only a matter of time before my isolated sulking was interrupted, which is exactly why the door was deadbolted.

I let my beer fall, suspending it by the tip of the neck with my index and middle finger. Standing up took so much energy that by the time I had crossed the 25ft to the front door I had tears rolling down my cheeks. My hands hadn't left the lock by the time * swung the door open and hugged me by the neck. As soon as our bodies were in contact the sobs came roaring in. We didn't bother moving into the apartment. We probably spent five minutes in the doorway blubbering. Our shirts completely soaked by the time we let go and faced each other.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make it to the door". Based on the fear in his eyes I knew what he meant. I just shrugged and managed a smirk for a moment before the sadness regained control of my face and I started crying again. He squeezed my hand before letting go as I broke to grab more beers from the fridge. He was sat criss-crossed on the couch by the time I met him with a bottle. "I know you're not a beer guy but-" he waved me off as he forced down a large swig. I sat across from him on the floor, my back leaned against the wall, still unable to hold myself up.

"They released the names of the victims" he said. "Did you know anyone?" I asked. "Not personally, I recognized a couple of names but just passively. Bryan did, he's an absolute wreck, but he refuses to take any time off." I couldn't imagine working right now. Not that I wanted to spend my PTO like this, but I'm glad I'm on it. "And how are you handling?" I asked.

"Better than I thought". I could see his face was red and swollen, but he didn't look bad. His clothes were more casual than usual, but still put together enough to be wearing a matching velvet tracksuit. I saw the corner of a yellow pack peeking from the pocket of his sweatpants. I would've scolded him if it were under different circumstances but I asked for one instead.

From the patio you could hear the muffled music in the living room but it was the most quiet I'd experienced in days. We said nothing till we were both halfway through our second cigarette. The volume of the music dropped when a song by the smiths came on and the pressure to break the silence was thick like the smoke that hung under the balcony. I'm glad he felt it too because I didn't have the energy to start the conversation. "How long were you planning to be MIA?"

I hadn't given it much thought. I was scheduled to return on the Monday of the 20th so I guess I would've done damage control on the Sunday right before. It honestly seemed like an eternity away. Not much of a vacation if you ask me, I was dissociating for so much of that week that it just feels like it was erased from my calendar.

I just responded with my start back date then asked about friends to get the focus of the conversation away from me. I was impressed with how well he was handling everything. He wasn't the same shy, anxious fairy I met in college. He had done wellness checks on damn near every one of our friends by this point. He even took Cedric to the hospital that morning after an overdose. I had already turned on airplane mode, so I had no idea. I felt horrible now, not having been present and just now hearing the news days later

"He panicked after he heard the news, but they said he's doing much better now. I'm picking him up today if you want to come." I nodded. I was feeling better sharing my sadness with another human. I tossed the butt I'd been fidgeting with into jar in the corner and stood up to make my way inside. * clearly had the most energy of the two of us because he'd already slid the door open and collected our empty Modelo bottles by the time I made my first step from the chair.

He hung around in the living room while I managed a whore's bath and gathered my hair in a "half suitable for public" bun. Within that time Bryan had called and from *'s half of the phone call I could tell Bryan was in just as bad a shape as me. I have no idea how he's still working. Everyone copes differently I guess.

Within an hour we were in the car and headed to pick up Cedric's boyfriend, Steph. Their car was totaled last week so * and some of our other friends had been helping out with transportation. We made it to the front door when Steph's mom answered. I had only met her once or twice but she gave us both tight hugs upon opening the door. It was this encounter when I realized I would be getting the question "how are you doing?" a lot in the coming weeks.

I still had my phone in airplane mode by the time we made it to the hospital. I figured I'd ease myself back into reality. Plus I was terrified of seeing the pictures of the victims. The wound still felt fresh and I couldn't bare to see the pictures of their faces, it'd just make things worse right now.

When we arrived at the hospital Cedric was paperwork in hand, ready to go. He dangled his socks in front of me and cracked a joke about being a part of the grippy sock club. We stopped at his favorite drive in burger and shake place for lunch. We were having a good time eating and joking and listening to the radio when all of the sudden the end of a song was greeted by a radio announcer:

"The benefit for the Pulse Nightclub victims and their families will be taking place this Saturday afternoon, June 18th, at Cal Anderson, and all proceeds will go directly to the families and nightclub."

The ad continued on, but I had already detached and was trying to bring attention back to the conversation taking place in the car.

"^?" I looked to the backseat to see everyone had their attention on me. My confusion must've been visible because Steph repeated his question "Are you going to the fundraiser on Saturday?" I hesitated. My body tensed up and before I could filter my thoughts I blurted out "I don't know if that's safe". The car fell silent. Everyone looked away from each other for a good while and we just sat in the silence, pensive. "One of the counselors from group said they're upping police presence at all LGBT events and a lot of organizations are hiring extra security".

That should've put me at ease but I broke down for what must've been the 15th time today. "I'm just scared! Why? Why us? Why still? This time last year we were partying and celebrating and I thought we had turned a page and that it was going to be safe now. But now?! It's like fuck! I feel like I should find a beard and have his baby just to have some sort of shield from whatever the FUCK that was." * looked at me like I was losing it. Not crazy like I was suggesting that we do that. Whatever weird thing was going on between us could never be considered straight, and we both knew that. No, he looked at me as if to say 'bitch you are not about to go back in the closet'. Besides, I didn't mean it wholeheartedly. The thought of living with a straight man and even worse a child was enough to send my burger on its way back up. But I was scared.

I'm so thankful Steph was in the car because he was the one to put things into perspective and alleviate the fear and grief I was experiencing. Without him there I probably would've spent the next 6 months refusing to go out anywhere that wasn't dinner or a game night at someone's apartment. "^, now is not the time to hide. This is the time to be there for your community so we can overcome this tragedy. I get it, I'm scared too. Shit, we're all scared. Cedric was so scared that he was try tryna dip out" he let out the cutest of 'oopsies' and tossed his hands up in an apology. Steph continued "come to the event on Saturday and check in with your people, ^. They need you and you need them too. We'll all be there."

* chimed in "They're putting on a lot of great things at the fundraiser like self defense classes and how to assess injuries before paramedics arrive. It's honestly a really good opportunity to help alleviate some of the anxiety your experiencing. Plus I'll be there so you have to come cause you love me"

"Alright, I'll be there." I didn't say it out loud, but Steph was right. This was an important time to be out. For a moment, I felt bad for breaking down in front of everyone. It's very out of character, but looking around, you could tell we were all tired. We had all spent the last several days grieving and processing. No one thought I was overly emotional. You could tell we'd all been crying this week. Even though we were separate from each other when we all heard the news, I felt like we all had an unspoken patience and understanding for each other and that we were experiencing the aftermath together. In a community where appearance and presence were high priority, and certainly a roastable offense if your friends caught you slippin, the next couple of months were quiet. * wore matching tracksuits and went out barefaced more often than not, and I never gave him shit for it. And he never gave me shit for piling my hair in a messy bun on top of my head. The next few weeks, I'd pass strangers, and we'd exchange tired smiles, almost as if to say 'we're getting through it'. It was a somber summer but one that I'm glad I stuck around for because it helped me grow into someone who didn't just check on my friends but someone who checked on their community.

[officialcharactersimp]

Mending & Amends

(Graduation Gift Part 4)

Summary: the fourth installment of my graduation gift series (can be found on my masterlist). This picks up literally seconds after the end of pt 3 with Natasha trying to find ways to make amends and get you to trust her again. No smut, but still not appropriate.

A/N: author’s note WC: 3k (holy heck)

CW: dark fic; mommy!nat; there is no porn, I repeat no porn; but there is mommy milk/breastfeeding; reader is injured; dubcon existence; 18+ only, do you hear me??

While you’re out, Natasha has time to tend to your injuries without you cowering and crying. Without all the guilt.

She picks your limp form up gently and brings you back out to the basement proper and lays you face-down on the bed-crib. She goes to get some medical supplies and cleans you up, then bandages the open bits and rubs some healing salve all over you. With only a few strikes having landed on your core, she’s satisfied with rubbing some of the salve there.

She gets you to drink some water from a bottle in your sleep, your natural instincts she’s been nurturing taking over. She checks your temperature, a solid 99, which isn’t too bad. She wipes the sweat and tear-tracks from your face, then brushes your hair out again. She lays down beside you and drapes an arm over your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck as she tries to think of what she’ll do when you wake up.

An idea forms slowly as she runs her hand along your waist. Yes, that will work. You might not like it at first, but it will work if she bears through it. She’s not sure how much of the fear and pain on your face she can handle, but she needs to.

She moves you off the bed to make it up nice, then sets you down gently, face down. Whenever you’re healed up you’ll be able to lay on your back, but right now that’s not possible. She ties your hands and feet to frame corners with plenty of slack—she wants you to be able to move.

Finally, she reluctantly removes your collar, biting her lip as she does so. It looked so precious on you, a symbol of the progress of your relationship. All gone now, thanks to her paranoia and overreaction. As much as she doesn’t want to remove it, it’s not right to keep it on if it speaks a lie.

Then she waits for you to come to. It shouldn’t be much longer now, maybe another half hour or so. She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, anxiously bouncing her leg. She needs to get herself under control before you wake. She knows her little baby needs for her to be the collected, caring, soothing mommy right now, and that you will for some time.

You mumble a little as you begin to stir, picking your head up a little. She takes a deep breath and smiles before going over and crouching down to look at your face while she gently tucks your hair back.

“Hey baby,” she says softly. “How’s my little sleepyhead feeling?” she asks. You whimper and inch away from her.

“D-don’ touch me,” you stammer.

“It’s okay baby, mommy isn’t gonna hurt you,” she says.

She sits down beside you. “I am so so sorry about what I did earlier. I was scared you were gonna try to leave me and get hurt. It’s a nasty drop from that window. But I didn’t take the time to think past my initial reaction or ask you, and that was wrong. I overreacted out of fear and anger without stopping to think, and I’m so sorry, little one. I never should have done that,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes. You turn your head to look up at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of ingenuity. You find only regret and sadness.

“You mean it?” you ask softly.

“Yes baby,” she says. “And mommy promises never to punish you without talking first or before taking some deep breaths, okay?” she says.

“Pinky promise?” you ask.

“Pinky promise,” she sticks out her pinky to hook with yours. She’s thrilled that you’re already starting to be a bit little again. As you move to interlock with her, you notice the restraints.

“Wait, what?” all traces of your headspace are gone as you jerk up to look around at your tied limbs. “What the hell?”

“Baby, it’s to keep you safe. See? They’re not tight or anything,” she tugs on all the loose rope.

“This is insane! All of this is insane!” you shout at her for the first time in weeks. It breaks her heart even more.

“I told you, mommy’s gonna fix what she did. Mommy’s gonna show you you can trust me again, gonna take care of you, of everything. Make it so this collar means something again,” she taps it on the bedside table, just out of your reach. You bury your face in your pillow and sob.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s gonna make it all better,” she curls up beside you and puts an arm over you again. Despite how upset you are, you lean into it, wanting the physical comfort you associate with her.

“How’s your bottom?” she asks.

“Hurts,” you mumble.

“Do you think some Advil might help?” she asks. You nod and she gets up briefly to go get it. “Here you go, baby,” you tilt your head up and she puts the pills in, then grabs your bottle of water. You roll your eyes but suck on it to get the water to wash the pills down. You nod a thank you.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. You nod. “What do you want? I’ll even go drive through somewhere if that will help,” she says. You think for a moment.

“McDonalds?” you ask hopefully. She nods and smooths your hair back.

“McDonalds will be here soon,” she assures you. “Mommy has to go see a friend, too, so it works out. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?” she says. You nod.

She kisses your head, which you recoil from, and leaves. You’re left alone to lay face-down on the crib-bed, restrained and in pain, until she returns. It’s silent. It’s lonely. You’ve grown used to either having Natasha or the sounds of the TV running since you came down here.

You think back to this morning. Everything was so different. You honestly trusted her this morning, even if it wasn’t the strongest trust. But this afternoon reminded you that she was an unstable, dangerous, paranoid lunatic. And it scared you.

Truth be told, you’ve grown to like being “little,” as Natasha calls it, letting yourself stop thinking too much and trust your mommy—Natasha, you correct yourself—to take care of you. You liked playing with her and cuddling. And when she touched you, it felt so good. So much better than when you had touched yourself. You felt loved and cared for in some twisted way.

But that was all in the past, now. You’d been doing so well, both of you, and now this. How does she expect you to trust her again? You’re not sure. You turn your head and close your eyes.

—

“You’re sure this will work, Wan?” Natasha asks her friend anxiously as she pulls her shirt back on. The red glow around her is fading. Her bra feels painfully tight and she winces.

“I’m positive. It worked for me, and especially given that you told me it’s happened before with those meds. If not tonight, by tomorrow for sure. And here’s these,” she hands Natasha a package. “They’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I’d do without you, in all honesty,” she says. Wanda smiles and hugs her.

“I could say the same to you,” she smiles. “Go on, get back to your little one,” she shoos her playfully. Natasha waves and leaves, then drives by McDonalds as promised. She’s back in a little over half an hour to see you dozing. It warms her heart to see her precious baby sleeping.

“Come on, little one, mommy brought your food,” she says, shaking you gently. You open your eyes and push yourself up off of the bed some. “Let’s get you comfy,” she helps you find a position that isn’t too uncomfortable for your aching rear, then hands you your food. “What do we say?” she asks.

“Thank you,” you say with a french fry in your mouth. She smiles. The mommy will come back later. She won’t push it for tonight.

“Do you wanna watch some cartoons?” she asks. They always engross you and help you into your littlespace. You nod and she flicks through the TV until she finds one she knows you like.

You both eat in relative silence, watching the TV. At least you’re not trying to cower anymore. That’s good, right? Progress? She hopes so.

“I’m gonna use the potty,” she tells you, then gets up. You don’t notice her bring the package with her as does.

When she returns, you notice something different about her, but you can’t tell what. It’s a small difference, then. Maybe she just fixed her hair. She’s smiling though.

You’re finished with your food soon enough, and the show ends shortly after.

“Let’s get you in the bath now baby, hm?” she suggests. You feel gross anyways, so you nod. She unties you and scoops you up in her arms.

“Let me down!” you squirm.

“Hush now, like mommy told you, I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna show you you can trust me again,” she says. You squirm all the way to the bathroom anyways. She sets you down on the toilet facing the wall, almost straddling it.

“Huh?” you ask.

“It’s less pressure on your little bottom,” she explains. You nod and use the toilet while she gets the tub ready, but when you go to get some toilet paper, Natasha beats you to it. “I’ve got it, baby,” she says, wiping your tender area gently. You wince and try to get away from her.

“Stop it, I’m not a baby!” you try to grab her hand and move it, but she stays still, unmoving.

“Come on, little one. I know you’re in there. I know you want to let mommy take care of you,” she says. You shake your head. “Baby, this is about me proving to you that you can trust me to take care of you,” her voice is even. “I want you to choose to let me prove it to you. That’s why I haven’t given you any of the medicine I used to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to believe how much I care about you again,” she says.

“But—“ you don’t know what you were planning on saying. “But I wanna do it myself. I can do it myself,” your voice is quiet as you lose your grip on her wrist, barely audible.

“That’s the thing, precious,” she steps closer to you, finishing her task and then using her other hand to pet your head. “I know you can do it. But you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here,” she says. You groan and lean forward on the toilet tank. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re clean,” she picks you up and sets you in the tub, then flushes the toilet.

You sigh and let her bathe you. Your body is too sore from getting dragged and caned to wash yourself that effectively anyways. When she gets to your most sensitive areas though, you squirm away from her and reach for the soap.

“It’s too sore. I wanna wash it myself,” you say quietly.

“I’m gonna be so careful, you won’t even notice,” she gently moved your hand away and got the soap again. Tears brimmed in your eyes and your bottom lip started to form a pout. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she gasps, petting your cheek. “Tell mommy what’s going on,” she says.

“I’m scared,” you say. “I don’t want you to touch it because you hurt me,” you say. Her heart breaks again.

“Okay, sweetie, how about this: we can do it together,” she takes your hand and puts it over hers, then begins to wash you gentler than ever. Your breathing hitches and your heart kicks up, but it’s over before it can go into full-blown panic.

“All done. You did such a good job, little one,” she praises you. “Ready to get out, or do you want to play in the water some?” she asks.

“Ready to get out,” you say. She picks you up out of the bath and dries you off with a soft towel before taking you out to the bed. She pulls on a soft shirt, leaving your bottom half uncovered so as not to irritate it. She changes into the spare pjs she keeps down here and crawls into bed beside you. You don’t welcome or recoil from her touch, which she’ll take as progress.

Her chest is still dully aching, but she knows she’s pushed you far enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be able to coax you into it.

—

When day comes again, Natasha is treating you the way she did when she first brought you down here, only with gentleness and tenderness where there was hardness and strictness before. The lack of the sedative drugs in your system makes it more difficult, but she’s able to maneuver your squirming form through the daily ritual of getting up, using the toilet, getting dressed, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally breakfast. Whenever she can, she has you laying on your stomach on the bed, and this is one thing you don’t protest.

You notice her shifting in discomfort the whole morning though, and despite how much you dislike her at the moment, you hate to see her in pain. You work up the courage to ask after a while of watching cartoons.

“Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I… well, I have a side effect from a treatment I had done that’s causing me discomfort,” she admits.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sucks.”

“There’s a way you can help me,” she says, sounding more timid than you’ve heard her maybe ever before.

“What is it?” you ask. To your confusion, she started to unbutton her shirt, and then she unclips her bra, but from the top? What?

“Huh?” you blurt out.

“I’m lactating,” she says simply, squeezing her nipple a little, causing a drop of what can only be breast milk to come of it.

“I—what do you want me to do about it?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“They hurt because they’re too full,” she explains. “And it would be really helpful if you would, well… empty them. I don’t have a breast pump, of course,” she says.

“Wait, like, you want me to—to drink your milk?” you’re turning bright red. Even after everything you’ve done with her, you’re almost unbearably embarrassed.

“Yes, baby, it would really help me, plus I think that you’ll like it. And it could help us…feel closer,” she chooses her words carefully, gauging your reaction.

“It’s kinda weirding me out,” you say honestly.

“Just try it, please, baby? It’ll help me feel so much better. And I promise, if you hate it after a little while then I’ll get a pump,” she crosses her fingers behind her back.

“I… okay,” you say. This whole situation is so absurd you can hardly bother trying to resist it. She smiles and adjusts the both of you to where you can reach her breast.

It’s not like you haven’t had her tits in your mouth before. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous right now. Natasha gently puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you a little closer. You wrap your mouth around her nipple hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“It’s like your bottle, sweetheart,” she senses your confusion. You tentatively begin sucking, and you’re surprised by the flow of milk into your mouth. You jerk back, but Natasha keeps your head in place, groaning in relief.

When the initial shock wears off, you realize she was right—you do like it. It’s warm and sweet, and the sucking action soothes you. You relax a little.

“That’s a good baby for mommy,” Natasha says gently, stroking your head with her thumb on the hand supporting you. “Do you like mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, slipping into littlespace quickly as you drink from her. “Is it yummy?” she asks out of her own curiosity. You nod, not wanting to stop to answer. She chuckles. “It’s all yours, little one.”

She moves you to her other breast when you’ve finished, looking down and noticing that her other one is indeed smaller, and it certainly feels better now. You clutch at her gently to get a good angle, and her heart swells. She’s so glad this worked, but then again, Wanda’s advice has yet to fail her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

When you finish, your eyelids are droopy and you nuzzle into her willingly, a rarity even before she fucked everything up. She pets you gently.

“Sleepy, little one?” she asks you softly. You nod. “Want a nap?” she asks. You nod again. Between your body being exhausted already and the soothing effects of her milk, she’s not surprised you’re already tired even though you’ve only been awake for a few hours. “Let mommy check your bottom, okay?” she turns you on your tummy. You’re healing nicely. “Do you want a blankie? I think it won’t hurt,” she says. You nod and she covers you with a blanket.

“Mommy stay,” you say when she gets up. And how is she supposed to argue with that? The answer is, she isn’t, so after she turns the lights off, he curls up next to you and holds you close.

“Mommy’s here, little one,” she assures you, finding your favorite stuffie and handing it to you. “Mommy will always be here, don’t you worry.”

[nottodayjjk]

dirty little secret ~ knj

❆ summary: one fateful night in december, you come to acquire santa's naughty or nice list by accident. together with your neighbour and best friend namjoon you uncover the dirty secrets of your neighbours plunging everything into chaos. bringing mischief about is all fun games, until your own little secret appears on the naughty and nice list.

❆ pairing: namjoon x female reader (minor appearance of other idols)

❆ word count: 10,4k

❆ genre: humor, romance, fluff, smut

❆ fic warnings: oral sex (f. receiving), language

❆ rating: 18+

❆ notes from the author: this fic is part of a hoeliday well spent from the christmas in july collab hosted by @kookdiaries​, @kithtaehyung​ and @xiaokoo​ and is loosely based on the hallmark channel-movie ‘naughty or nice’ (2012). i had a lot of fun writing this! big thank you again to @kookdiaries for creating this incredible banner and for @minigum for being the most wonderful beta reader <3

❆ tag list: @shameless-army​​ @writtenwhalien​​ @shrimpmsg​​ @moonchild1​

In the dark of the night, snow was falling softly and covered the street in peaceful quietness. Christmas decorations and flickering candles adorned the lit windows and lights were beautifully draped around snow-covered bushes. Sparkling reindeers pulled Santa’s carriage and inflated snowmen waved happily at cars driving by. Christmas time had just begun.

A few lamps illuminated the street with their yellow dimmed light as a dark, giant shadow slipped past. Quiet footsteps could be heard in the stillness of the cold winter night, wading through ankle-deep snow in heavy black boots. They were on their way to the sturdy apartment building on the left side of the desolate street, determined to fulfil their quest. They took another look around before they slipped through the glass door, the red fabric of their clothes gleamed under the flickering light of the broken lamp of the entrance lobby. Then, the night was quiet again.

You had been out with your best friend and next-door neighbour Namjoon whom you knew a few years by now. From the first day you had set foot in the small apartment building, he had been a helping hand, mainly through helping you carry a myriad of small boxes and things all the way up to the 6th floor where the both of you lived. The elevator had, of course, been out of order on that day. But he hadn’t complained at all! And because he had gone way out of his way even though he had only met you that same day, you had invited him to a take-away pizza and a bottle of cheap wine from the supermarket right around the corner. You had not expected your first night in your new home to be like this, to be so much fun. He had stayed until the morning, the two of you talking about anything and everything until the birds had chirped good morning outside. And the bond between the two of you had only grown from there on out.

You had visited a local Christmas market together, drinking a whole lot of eggnog and relishing in the joyful spirit of Christmas. You had never been someone to celebrate Christmas before you had met Namjoon. In your first year, he had basically dragged you to the market and filled you up with all kinds of different Christmassy drinks and snacks, bought you several gingerbread hearts, and even got you to ride one of the many attractions with him. The next day had been awful, the hot chocolate with rum had come out the same way that it had gone in. Still, it had been the most joyous Christmas time you had ever had.

Ever since then, he always did something new with you every Christmas. Buying a tree, seeing a Santa Claus show in the city centre, or writing letters with long wish lists to Santa. But it had never come down to actually spending Christmas eve and morning together, to your disappointment. He usually drove to his parents, a three-hour ride from where you lived, leaving you on your own to sulk in loneliness until he came back for New Year’s Eve.

Well, this year he had bugged you until you had agreed to go décor shopping for your apartment with him. It had made him sad to see your living space so empty during a cheery time like this. He got you all the basic things: fairy lights, cute little snowmen that had the friendliest smiles, a whole lot of candlesticks with red candles that smelled like gingerbread and cinnamon, hell, even glitter balls and bows for the small tree he also had gotten you.

After putting all the decorations up and “to celebrate your joyful shopping spree”, as Namjoon had called it, he had once again persuaded you to go to the Christmas market, letting no feeble excuses count. He had been in too good of a mood anyway for you to turn him down. You found it cute when he was all excited and giddy like this.

He had ordered eggnog after eggnog. His infectious enthusiasm had only gone up, not down a tad as you had hoped. But after the third eggnog, you hadn’t minded anymore anyway. Namjoon had entertained you all through the evening, making you laugh and enjoy yourself after a long week of studying and learning. Even though it had just snowed the other day, the eggnog had held you warm through and through, your cheeks feeling hot. Maybe it had also been a little bit because of Namjoon and how he had scooted closer and closer to you throughout the evening, ‘to keep each other warm’ as he had stated.

You had stayed until the booth had closed and the owner had hushed you to finally head home. Given both of your inebriated states, getting home had taken twice as long as it did when you’d left from home to go out.

As you had reached the door, waving a last goodbye to Namjoon who had stumbled clumsily into his own apartment, it had taken you a few minutes until you finally had gotten the key into the hole. You hadn’t even bothered to brush your teeth, only changing into comfy pyjamas – which had been quite the task – and slipping into bed. Dreamland hadn’t waited long to come, and you had fallen sound asleep.

So, to no one’s surprise, you didn’t hear when soft but heavy footsteps approached your apartment in the middle of the night. Didn’t spot the broad shadow that could be seen through the small gap under your door where the light fell in. Didn’t notice when a thick package wrapped with packing paper was pushed through the letter slot of your apartment door.

The package fell to the ground with a gentle thud. The towering figure hummed a merry tune before taking off again. You only turned around in your sleep, mumbling, “No more eggnog, Namjoon”, before it was quiet once more.

The rest of the night went uneventfully, and the package laid peacefully on your door mat until morning came.

A pounding headache. That was what had woken you up. The eggnog hadn’t been a good idea from the start, and you had told Namjoon several times. But even though he had listened to you, he had ignored your reasonable request. He hadn’t really given you a choice to begin with. And you hadn’t wanted to complain. At least he had paid and that was all that had been needed to convince you.

While Namjoon was already producing his own music, you were still a university student majoring in Art. You got by fine with the money your parents sent you and what you earned from your part-time job at the library, but you were still glad for every penny you could keep and save for after university. You dreamed of opening your own business and, heck, you needed a lot of money for that.

When Namjoon had heard of your ideas, he had been in immediately, supporting you in every way possible. Even if it meant paying for your drinks or your museum visits on the weekend. As long as he got to spend time with you, it was worth all his money.

You desperately grabbled for the nightstand. Luckily, you had prepared pain meds and water in advance, even a small piece of toast. Your nights out with Namjoon usually ended like this, so you are accustomed to it.

Sitting up a little, you popped the pills into your mouth first before chucking the water into your throat as if your life depended on it. Once you’d dealt with that, you reached towards the toast, munching on it until it was no more.

You felt better immediately as the medicine worked its way through your system and the toast soaked up the remaining alcohol in your stomach. Slowly the turns in your stomach lessened and until there was one thing overtaking your needs. It was time for coffee.

Slowly, you got up, swaying a little back onto the bed but overall, it was not as bad as you’d had expected. Sure, the eggnog had made your stomach a little weak, but you felt certain it could handle the coffee. Otherwise, you couldn’t make it through the day. Coffee was vital right now.

On the way out of your bedroom, you snatched your long silk gown, putting it on. You headed straight to the coffee machine, pushing the little blinking button so it started grinding the black beans. The soft smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air as you grabbed a big mug from the sink. You sighed and leaned one hip on the counter.

As you waited for the coffee you looked around and your gaze fell onto an exceptionally cheery snowman on your coffee table. You had never been keen on Christmas decorations. They were too bright, too colourful, and too cheesy.

Well, jokes on you. All the things the two of you had bought, the fairy lights, red candles, a few reindeers and snowmen, and some green fir branches, were now spread around your apartment, the small tree chilling next to your TV in the corner. It was hard to say ‘No’ to Namjoon’s puppy eyes. He usually got his way with you.

It had also been his idea to not only put the lights on the curtain rods but to wind them around them, too. 

He had held you safely by your waist as you had stood on the ladder to reach up there. His long, slender hands had felt so warm through your clothes that your heart had stuttered for a second and you had gotten the job done rather quickly to get away from this weird feeling that had erupted in your chest. Because you couldn’t admit it to yourself. You couldn’t admit that Namjoon had become more than a best friend to you over the last few years.

But you had to confess; the lights were very very pretty. You even thought about keeping them up there after Christmas. They brought a soft glow around the room that made it feel unbelievably cosy and romantic.

As you absentmindedly grabbed for your finished cup of coffee you couldn’t help but remember the way Namjoon’s skin had glowed in these lights. How mesmerizing he had looked. How hard you had had to keep yourself from putting a hand up to one of his cheeks and caressing his soft skin.

You lost yourself in the memory for a second before you noticed something very peculiar from the corner of your eye. Something very square and brown. It was a package. On your doormat. ‘What in god’s name,’ you thought to yourself as you eyed it in curious suspicion. The post usually never came that early. Especially not on a Saturday. And why had no one rang the bell? It was odd, to say the least.

You left your coffee on the counter, steam still rising in puffy clouds from the cup. Cautiously, you made your way over to the mysterious package that read your full address, but no sender. It was quite big, now that you had gotten closer, and it had you wondering how it had fit through the narrow letter slot. Maybe Namjoon was pulling a prank on you?

Before you picked up the package, you opened the door and checked the hallway, frantically looking left and right. But no one was there, not even Namjoon to cheekily grin at you.

Closing the door behind you, you took the brown package and laid it down on the counter next to your coffee. You eyed it once more while taking a long sip from the beverage. Should you open it? What if there was something… bad or deadly inside? You had heard of such packages before on the news. People sent them to get revenge on ex-partners or enemies. Well, you had no such things… and Namjoon seemed to be out of the picture as well.

After some more staring, curiosity finally got the best of you, and you carefully ripped open the brown packing paper. It revealed a heavy book that was edged in red velvety fabric that had golden ornaments engraved. Imprinted on it was the lettering “Naughty or Nice”. Wait- what?!

Snorting laughter erupted from your chest. This had to be a prank, right? ‘Namjoon’s good,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Keeps hiding until I actually look at the book. Not a very good prank, but alright…’

As you were about to open it, you could hear a key jingling in front of your door and some mumbled curses. ‘Speaking of the devil.’ Namjoon strode through the door in his pyjama and a long gown, his hair looking dishevelled and eyes still half-closed. He had your spare keys which gave him the possibility to let himself in whenever and you didn’t mind. At this point, it had become commonplace.

You watched with an amused grin as he immediately scuffed over to the coffee machine, grabbing another cup from the sink, and turning it on once more. He inhaled the smell just like you did before he turned around to face you.

“Morning, Y/N,” he hummed, and a lop-sided grin adorned his lips. Hell, how did this sleepy look fit him so well? “How is your stomach?”

You crossed your arms and leant back on the counter. “Better than I thought. You?”

“Same, same. I just really craved your coffee. This machine is a literal angel!” He turned back around to grab his coffee and take a big gulp before letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Very funny, by the way.” You pointed at the book behind you, still laying unopened on your counter. “You never have Christmas-pranked me before so that’s a first. But it isn’t one of your best ideas, if I can be honest with you.”

There was a moment of silence. You had expected him to laugh at you or make a clever remark about how he had gotten you to open it. But… nothing. He just blankly stared at you. “What?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Making this book look like Santa’s Naughty or Nice list? Very funny, Namjoon, very funny!” You chuckled a little at him pretending not to know what you were talking about.

He spied over your shoulder, reading the lettering. And shook his head. “Y/N. I… didn’t prank you. This–“ He pointed to the book. “–is nothing I came up with. Though I must say, I think it’s a pretty good idea!” He snickered a little and took another sip of his coffee.

“But–“ You turned around to the book. “–who sent it to me then? I don’t know who else would try and prank me…” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taking another look at the packing paper. Still nothing but your address.

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I was just about to when you came through the door.” You put a hand on the binding. The velvet fabric felt soft under your fingertips and the golden lettering glittered in the glim of the fairy lights. It looked so… real.

Carefully, you opened it, coming face to face with a blank page. Maybe the others? You browsed to the next page. And the next. And the next. But they were all blank, not even a tiny little bit of ink to be seen. ‘Weird…’

Skimming through the rest of the book, you looked for anything peculiar. Nothing. “It’s empty,” you told Namjoon, while going back to the first page and leaving it open.

You heard shuffling on the floor and suddenly Namjoon leaned over your shoulder to look at the book. He stretched out his hand to skim through it as well. He was so close. You could feel the heat radiating off his body and his breath on your neck as he let out a confused huff.

When he stepped back from you after inspecting the book, you wished him back closer behind you. ‘Stop that,’ you scolded yourself in your head. ‘He is your best friend!’

“Well, it actually looks like someone pulled a prank on you,” Namjoon stated while making himself another cup of coffee. He usually runs on three. On a good day. That you knew his coffee consumption so well said a lot about how regularly he came over in the morning to use your coffee machine.

“Apparently…”

Loud bass suddenly disrupted the morning, booming through the wall to your left. ‘No, not again!’ It was your other neighbour… Jungkook. He kept it down on most days. But he always pulled this on a Saturday morning, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose just to annoy you. You had banged on the wall a few times before. On some days he even turned the music down after your knocking complaint. But today, it was on a whole other level. As if he knew you had been out late and had a mild hangover.

“Ugh, I’ll swear I’ll punch him some day,” you mumbled while pinching your eyebrows in frustration.

Namjoon knew you weren’t kidding. Jungkook had been getting on your nerves ever since he had moved in next door. Before him, there lived a nice and quiet lady who occasionally baked chocolate cookies for the two of you and had always put something nice in front of your door during Christmas time. Now, there was Jungkook. Student, party animal, and the type to listen to music so loud you couldn’t hear your own thoughts.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Namjoon said. “But I also don’t want to have to visit you in prison during Christmas time.” He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair before chucking down his coffee.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling noise of paper coming from the counter. The book! It was turning its pages on its own. “Holy-“

You stepped in front of the counter, Namjoon following closely, eyes as wide as the moon. “How is that possible?” he whispered while peering over your shoulder again.

A golden light bloomed from the Naughty or Nice book and the two of you just stared at in great awe as sparkles danced around the room. “I’m usually not one to believe in magic,” Namjoon muttered under his breath. “But this is a whole new thing…”

The turning stopped and the pages gently dropped down. Beautiful, curved letters emerged, writing your neighbour’s name. They shone golden in the light. “What is happening?” you hissed while intently watching the book. Namjoon just shrugged his shoulders, speechless.

 Jeon Jungkook: always leaves his trash in front of Mrs. Kim’s apartment door

Underneath was a moving picture, showing Jungkook looking around frantically before putting his trash bag on Mrs. Kim’s doormat and a more detailed description of what was going on. You gasped out in disbelief. “Mrs. Kim is always so nice! How dare he!?”

Namjoon let out an angry huff. “You’ve got a good point but-“ His forehead crinkled in confusion and scepticism. “How does it do that?”

You shrugged, turning the page to see if it had a built-in display. But… there was nothing. It was just a normal page like any other. You turned back to the picture of Jungkook where he had gotten caught in the act. By whom? You didn’t know, could only guess… But no, this was not possible. Santa didn’t exist. But… an idea came to your head.

“Hmm, let’s put this to a test,” you said as the pounding bass continued to boom through the wall. You left the book open, the image of Jungkook engraved in your head, as you turned on your heels and made your way over to the door.

“You actually gonna go over there?” Namjoon trailed behind you, not sure if this was the right thing to do. You definitely had a reason to be angry at Jungkook. But what if this was all just a scam? Well, it felt far too real for that, but Namjoon wasn’t yet ready to call his beliefs into question. This was insane.

You nodded and opened the door. “He has been getting on my nerves for a few weeks now. It’s time to put this to a stop.” You gave him one last determined book before stepping out into the hallway.

Namjoon shook his head in amusement at your vendetta and stopped at your doorstep, leaning against the frame watching you. This was your fight. He wouldn’t get between the frontlines. He knew your anger all too well.

You rapped viciously on the door; quite sure Jungkook wouldn’t hear any of it. And of course, the door didn’t open and the music blared on. So, you resorted to a more effective method. You pressed the button of the bell and held it down. ‘I will have you answer your door even if it takes the whole freaking day.’

It took a few seconds, but you heard the music fading and someone swearing behind the door. It worked. A malicious smirk adorned your lips. You weren’t even nervous, more excited to try the spicy information you had acquired about him. The keys jingled in the keyhole and an annoyed face appeared in the ajar door. “What is it?”

You crossed your arms and put on your most intimidating look. The secret from the book gave you a hell of a confident boost. “Jungkook,” you started, “I’ve told you many many times to quiet it down.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I know. I’m sorry but-“

You cut him off immediately. “No buts. You’re either gonna tone it down from now on or…”

“Or what? You’re trying to threaten me?” He laughed and threw his head back. “That’s new. Well, you’ve got nothing on me, Y/N.”

You squinted your eyes at him, and a smile grew on your face. “You sure?”

Jungkook leaned against the door frame while looking bored. The arrogant look on his face gave you the rest of the encouragement you needed. “Well,” you swirled one of your hair strands around your finger, “I know you’re putting your trash bags on Mrs. Kim’s doormat, so you don’t have to take it out yourself…”

It took a moment for Jungkook to realise what you just said. But when he finally did, his jaw almost dropped down to his knees. “How-“

“The poor woman. I think she deserves to know…” You turned around, feeling the power pulsating in your hands. It was electrifying! You slowly strode over to your apartment.

“Y/N!” Jungkook called out after you, desperation apparent in his voice. “I-“ He dropped his head in defeat, all pride and arrogance had left his body. “If you don’t tell her, I promise I’m gonna tone it down from now on,” he caved in.

“You better,” you just answered and walked away, leaving a speechless Jungkook by his door.

Namjoon snickered as you entered your apartment again, finding the whole situation very amusing. “Have you seen his face? He was so stunned!” Both of you burst out into a fit of laughter, needing a few seconds to calm yourselves down again.

You went back to the still open book. “So it tells the truth…” you stated while tracing the letters with your fingers when they suddenly started to disappear. “Oh! They’re vanishing!”

“Probably because you called him out on that,” Namjoon assumed, looking at the now empty page and then at you. “You know what that means… right?”

You turned it over in your head for a few seconds before you answered Namjoon’s gaze with a mischievous smile. “Let’s discover some secrets this Christmas!”

And so, the two of you went on to discover the hidden secrets and misdeeds of all of your neighbours. The book was never wrong. Not when it told you that Mrs. Kim had a secret fling with Mr. Sung from floor 5 and they were acting like giddy teenagers, that Mrs. Lee let her dog pee on Mrs. Park’s door mat once in a while because they couldn’t stand each other, that Soonyoung from second floor liked to bathe in pure milk occasionally, that Yeji from first floor stole Mr. Chew’s newspaper now and then because he was rude to basically everyone in the building, that Taehyung from fourth floor had sang Christmas carols in the middle of the night for Yeji because he had been out to drink, and many many more.

Some of them you used for your amusement, but most of them were kept between the both of you. You felt closer to Namjoon than ever before. Sharing and keeping secrets about your neighbours bound you together. And Christmas time was a blast, for the both of you! You went out once in a while to the Christmas market again but usually you kept your noses in the Naughty or Nice book, awaiting the next secret to appear. So, Christmas time went by in a happy blur.

After coming home from another one of your merry adventures, you began to realise that this might all be over soon. Actually, Christmas evening was tomorrow already and Namjoon would probably be off to his parents. You didn’t want to stop discovering all these secrets with Namjoon. You had spent a lot of time together; it had been so much fun. And you liked being around him, you knew that. You weren’t ready to admit it, but you had fallen in love with him even more by now. Even after all these years, his way of living and his wisdom still amazed you to no end.

Your thoughts were suddenly disrupted by Namjoon as the both of you reached your apartment door. “Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered, shaking yourself out of your thoughts. Namjoon stood in front of you, nervously wrenching his hands. You had never seen him skittish before. Had something happened?

He took a deep breath before he began to speak. “I was… wondering if you wanted to spent Christmas together?” Namjoon nervously scratched his head. “I-“ he stumbled over his own words for a moment. “I don’t want you to be alone for Christmas. And my parents won’t be at home anyway. So, I was wondering- I mean-“ He rambled on and gestured wildly between the both of you.

To stop him, you gently put your hand on his arm. “Yes,” you answered simply and smiled at him happily, not able to contain your excitement at his request. Your heart was beating in your chest. Spending Christmas with Namjoon was a dream come true.

“I... would love to.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly while not being able to meet his eyes. You were sure he would be able to read your confused feelings for him right there.

He let out a small huff of relief. “Good, good… We can go grocery shopping together tomorrow if you want. So we can pick something to eat that we both like.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Meet in the morning as usual?” you asked, fidgeting with your jacket sleeve.

Namjoon nodded. “I will cook of course. You will be my guest! Also, your cooking skills might be a little insufficient for Christmas…” Mischievousness gleamed in his eyes and you just shook your head, laughing a little.

“I think my cooking skills are fine as they are. It’s not my fault you don’t like the food that I cook!” you exclaimed and hit his shoulder playfully. “Also, your food might taste better than mine. But you’re definitely more chaotic than I am!”

“Okay, okay,” he put his hands up in defeat. “You’ve got a point. I’m still cooking though.” He took off his beanie to run a hand through his hair. He stretched his arms out, motioning for you to give him a goodbye-hug.

Your skin tingled as you obliged. His hands rested on your back as he tugged you close. “Good night, Y/N,” he whispered into your ear, eliciting a shiver running down your back. Gosh, his voice and his soft lips were hovering right next to your ear. It created images in your head you shouldn’t be thinking about in the proximity of your best friend, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You swallowed a big lump in your throat. “Good night to you too,” you whispered back with a hoarse voice, heart still fluttering. He could hear the rapid beating for sure.

Both of you stayed in the hug longer than necessary, thinking about what would become of your adventures once Christmas was over. You were sure the book would disappear, that its owner would come to get it.

You sighed before stepping away from Namjoon, giving him a small smile before pulling out your keys. He went over to his door, a jingling noise reaching your ears. You looked over your shoulder before entering your apartment.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” Namjoon called over in a hushed voice before he disappeared behind his own door. Little did you and he know what effect these last few words would have on you…

Wanton sounds escaped your mouth as your hands grasped fiercely for your sheets. Waves of pleasure rolled through your body as you felt a desperate mouth latching onto your clit, tongue poking out to gratify your little bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled back into your head. It felt… overwhelming.

You couldn’t hold in a lewd moan as the tongue worked magic on you. “Please–“ You couldn’t form a whole sentence without being interrupted by your own moans.

You felt a hand softly caressing your thigh. “Y/N,” a familiar voice reached your ear, making you perk up. Was this… real? You lifted yourself on your elbows to see if you were right with your guess.

Looking up from between your legs was a tousled Namjoon, cheeks red and lips glistening in the light of your fairy lights. He looked like an angel with his skin glowing golden and his hair illuminated.

It felt like a dream come true…

It wasn’t the morning light waking you up nor the loud traffic noise from the street in front of your apartment building. No. What woke you up was the growing wetness between your legs. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, a light film of sweat covered your forehead. Well, that had been… hot.

You had had dreams of Namjoon before. Funny ones, sad ones, even ones where the two of you had been dating. But with things like this, you had only been daydreaming about thus far. It had you all riled up, a little embarrassed, but first and foremost horny.

His head between your legs and his tongue on your clit had felt so real. Oh, what you’d give to actually get to feel that. But you were sure that it would remain something that stayed in your daydreams, when you had to release some friction behind your bedroom doors.

You sighed, pushing the thick blanket to the side. You had to take care of the mess between your legs and there was only one place that always helped: the shower. You had to get this dream out of your head before Namjoon would come over. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to look into his eyes without thinking of the sinful scene that repeated itself again and again in your head.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ you pushed yourself to get out of bed and into the shower. As if you didn’t enjoy this…

As you sat down by the book again with a big cup of fresh coffee, you were actually wondering if you’d ever appear on the list. Or Namjoon. And which secret of yours it would be. So far, it hadn’t spilled any of yours. But it would be merely a matter of time until the pages would reveal what you had kept from one another. Even though there were barely any secrets between the two of you. Only this… this was kind of a major one.

Absent-mindedly, you browsed through the book again. What secret would reveal itself today? Maybe about this dude all up on floor 7 that was always wearing a beanie and sunglasses or that girl from over the street that was walking her dog up and down the street.

Someone was entering the apartment. Namjoon rounded the corner and came into your view. He was also still in his morning clothes, his feet hidden beneath two slippers. Your gazes met shortly, a quick nod exchanged and gentle smiles, before he made a turn.

“And?” He strolled over to the coffee machine, slippers scratching on the floor. “Anything new?” He nodded towards the book sprawled out in front of you.

“I haven’t really checked yet, give me a second.” You concentrated back on the book, pages sliding through your fingers as you looked for a new secret until you found it. You didn’t really pay any attention at first. But then you read your name in big, curved letters. A quiet gasp slipped past your lips.

Checking to see if Namjoon was still making coffee, you hoped he was not aware of your little slip up. He happily worked away, putting coffee beans into the machine, whistling ‘Jingle Bells Rock’ to the puckering sound of the milk frother.

Then, you turned your attention back to the book. When you read Has naughty dreams of their best friend in small letters, your heart sped up and your breathing got ragged. Underneath it was, like it had always been the case before, a more detailed description of what had happened. And a picture of you writhing and moaning beneath the sheets. No, why today?!

The words in front of you blurred as you tried to fathom the consequences if Namjoon came to read this. Your friendship would be over. He would never speak to you again. Hell, what would he think of you?!

You couldn’t let that happen. He was the only thing in your life that kept you sane. That could not all be thrown away. You quickly closed the book, thinking of something to distract Namjoon.

Unfortunately, the loud thump startled Namjoon. He turned around as he heard the sudden noise. He eyed you for a second and then noticed the closed book under your hands. He put down the coffee spoon he was holding. “Uhm… Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Your eyes are like… this wide.” He put a fair distance between his thumb and his pointer finger.

Quickly shaking your head, you scrambled for words. “It’s nothing. I-I thought I…” Yeah, what did you think? It was hard to lie when Namjoon looked at you like that. Your brain couldn’t come up with anything. Instead, you just gulped heavily.

Namjoon’s coffee was now forgotten, its owner too curious about what you had read and seen. He had, of course, noticed your nervous behaviour, growing suspicious of what you were trying to do. His slippers scraped along the floor again as he casually made his way over to you. With his gaze never leaving your face, he followed your every move.

Clambering for the book, you secured it in your arms before Namjoon could reach for it. He couldn’t find out. Not about the dream. Not about the feelings you held for him. But especially not about the dream. The sinful scenes replayed themselves in your head again and you felt your cheeks heating up once more. “There is nothing in there,” you exclaimed, trying to sound as convincing as possible. But there was a crack in your voice. And you could see it in his eyes. He knew.

Scrambling to sit up right on the couch, you shook your head ‘No’, keeping the book tight in your clutches. Over your dead body would it fall into his hands.

“If there is nothing to see, why are you keeping it from me?” He tried to reason with you, stretching out a hand towards the book that you kept clutched in front of your chest, your arms wrapped around it like it was the most precious treasure you had ever possessed.

Namjoon was not one to accept a ‘No’, you knew that. You could spot the determined look in his eyes already. There was nothing that would keep him from finding out. And that had you scared like hell.

You could only stare at him, not having an answer for his very true and logical question. He would always catch you with his well thought-out reasoning. It made you want to tear your hair out every time. Right now, though, you were paralysed by fear.

“Well, you leave me no choice,” he approached you slowly, trying to read you, trying to calculate which escape route you would take. Because whatever stood in that book, had you all jittery and he had to know why. Though he knew that you would never show him voluntarily.

Panic, your brain screamed. And your body scrambled up from the couch, trying to get away from Namjoon. You still clutched the book in front of your chest with both hands.

“No, no, no!” he lunged forward, reaching for you. “You’re not getting away!” He got your left foot before you could escape safely from the couch. Your body fell back onto the cushions, knocking the breath out of your lungs. But you didn’t let go of the book, no matter the pain it would cost.

In his haste to prevent your escape, he knocked down a few wooden reindeers and snowmen from the coffee table. Luckily, there was no glass there. You had told him right in the store that you would not be buying any glass decorations if he would be around. With his clumsiness, he would knock them down within mere seconds. Hell, he had almost dropped something right then and there in the shop. But you both had other things to worry about right now than your Christmas decorations.

“Namjoon,” you shout out anxiously. “Let go of me!” But his grip on you didn’t ease up.

“Not before you show me the freaking book, Y/N!” And he kept his word, his hands desperately trying to seize the book from your tight grip. But you wouldn’t give up so easily. You once more tried to get away from him, grasping for the armrest and pulling like your life depended on it. But he was just too strong, with one hand grabbling for the book and the other holding down your legs.

While fighting him off, you didn’t notice how he’d crawled up your body, getting in nearer reach of the book. And suddenly he was way too close to your face, hovering above you in such an intimate way he never had before.

There had been moments of course. Where he had caged you in a little at your door, when he had leaned in too close, when he had pulled you into his warm embrace… But that had been something different.

Now he laid on top of you, covering your body with his. His chest heaved against yours as he tried to catch his breath from fighting with you. His grey-dyed hair fell in streaks into his eyes and once more his skin glowed in the warm fuzzy light of the fairy lights that framed his head. For a second, the both of you just... stopped.

He looked deeply into your eyes; his pupils overshadowed with an emotion you couldn’t grasp. Your heart beat even faster and your brain felt like it would explode any minute. Your senses were heightened, and you could feel his skin burning on yours. It was… ravishing. Your body couldn’t get enough of it already.

Suddenly, he snapped the book out of your hand, forcing an evil laughter out of his mouth and the moment was gone. He had shamelessly used your messed up state to his advantage and now the book was in his hands.

He scrambled back up from his position on top of you, quickly getting away from you and taking the book with him so you wouldn’t come up with the idea of snatching it back from him. Well, you had resigned already anyway. There was no way you could stop the inevitable from happening now. You said your last goodbye to your friendship. He took one last look at your dishevelled and defeated state before he plopped down on the armchair.

Thump, thump, thump. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears like the drums of that one Christmas song that they always played on the radio, and your stomach took a heavy leap. No, you couldn’t watch this. It was just too much to handle. You grabbed for the plush Santa Namjoon had gotten you as a joke last year, and hid your face in the red fabric of his cloak. You peeked out anxiously, watching Namjoon.

Pages rustled as Namjoon slowly opened the book. His heart beat just as fast as yours as he searched for the right page. Not because he was anxious, but because of his excitement as to what he would get to read on that page. And then he finally found it.

He was not surprised that it was about you. He had actually predicted that. Why else would you react that way if this didn’t reveal something about you? But the content had him gasping out in astonishment.

To actually believe it, he had to read it more than once. It beat all of his wildest dreams. Not only had you caught feelings for him, but he had of course caught feelings for you as well. And quite some time ago too. He had wanted to confess more than once but he hadn’t had the guts. He was very afraid of losing you as well so this came as a very pleasant surprise to him.

Unable to help it, he read the passage once more and let his gaze on the image of you linger a little longer, feeling arousal crawl up his body. He had caught you staring at him here and there, when going for a swim in the summer or when he read a book, when you didn’t think he would notice. He had never given much thought to it though. He would have never guessed that you had thought about him, dreamed about him.

He needed a few to gather himself, to brace himself for what was to come. He couldn’t let this slide just like that now that he knew that you felt the same for him. Now that he knew what you were craving. And he wanted to give you exactly that. All night if you wanted to. He wanted to give you the pleasure that you deserved, see you writhing underneath his fingers, calling out his name so that everyone could hear what he did to you.

A mischievous grin passed over his face. He would take care of that wish of yours, as a Christmas gift. That he promised to himself and gathered all of his confidence for. His heartbeat was going through the roof but he didn’t want you to know, and tried to keep a calm face.

You peeked out once more as he closed the book. You tried to read his face, but there was nothing to work with. Had your friendship been ruined already? Would he just leave and never say a word to you ever again? You expected the worst, already feeling tears prick in your eyes.

Namjoon slowly got up from the armchair and now you were sure he would leave the apartment. You felt embarrassment, shame, and regret overwhelm you. But there was something in you that fought back. Your eyes grew big, you couldn’t just let him go like this. “Namjoon, I-“

But he cut you off mid-sentence. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He shook his head, putting the book down on the table and shoved it over towards you. Your gaze fell back to the image of you, a moaning mess in the bed. You couldn’t handle looking at it and instead gazed up at Namjoon and being met with an expression that you hadn’t expected at all.

He looked like a boy who had gotten the biggest present for Christmas, but there was also something a lot less innocent in his eyes. Holding your gaze, he came back over to the couch and crouched in front of you.

“You’ve been –“ He swallowed visibly, nervousness getting the best of him for a second, before he proceeded with confidence “–a very naughty girl, Y/N, haven’t you?” He cocked an eyebrow while putting both of his hands next to your legs that rested on the edge of the couch.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Never had you imagined that Namjoon would speak like this to you. You could not say much, your throat going dry, and just slowly nodded your head.

“Hmm, thought so,” he answered while letting his gaze wander over your form. “Well, what do we do about that? Naughty girls need to be punished, right?” His eyes drifted back to your face, satisfied he took notice of the effect he had on you. How your legs unconsciously rubbed together at his every movement.

With the heat rising from you, he felt drawn to you.

“But I think you’ve been pretty nice this year. I think we leave the punishment for another day and instead–“ He nodded towards the book, referring to the description of your dream under the picture. “– keep working on this.” He turned back towards you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

His words were music in your ears. This was more than you could wish for. You pinched yourself for a second, making sure it wasn’t another dream of yours, that you hadn’t just fallen asleep again in your bed. But it was as real as it could get. Arousal is already pooling in your panties, Namjoon’s deep voice resounding in your head.

By now, he was drawing small, soft circles on the skin of your thigh, patiently waiting for your answer. He wouldn’t do anything about it as long as you hadn’t given your consent. There was still a little voice inside of him that wasn’t sure if you really felt the same. He had no time to think too much about it though.

You cleared your throat, the effect he had on you clear as day. “I’d… love that.” You shyly answered, carefully putting a hand on Namjoon’s cheek. He leaned into your touch immediately, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the feeling of the gentle action.

He pushed himself up a little, his face hovering in front of yours. You held your breath, excited for what was to come. He was even closer than before. You could feel puffs of his hot breath gently caressing your lips. His eyes kept yours caged, his pupils blown looking like black holes that swallowed you to take you to another dimension.

With his hand moving up to the side of your neck, it gingerly brushed against the skin and he left it at the nape of your neck. His face inched closer, barely any space left between your lips now. Your thumb grazed over his cheek, the skin underneath warm and tender. You could stay like this forever.

“May… may I kiss you?” Namjoon asked, gaze drifting between your shining eyes and your tempting lips. You took his breath away, making him weak in the knees. Why hadn’t he confessed to you sooner? He could have had it all already. You had both missed out on so much. But there was still so much time to make up for it all.

It took all of your willpower to not kiss him right then and there, but to answer his question first. You looked deep into his eyes, “Yes, I beg you to.”

And that was all that was needed for Namjoon to desperately press his lips against yours without hesitating for even a second. Both of you closed your eyes, relishing in the moment of the first kiss shared between the two of you. It was not at all how you had expected it to feel but so much more. Your heart took a leap at his soft lips that moved so lovingly against yours while his thumb stroked your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Namjoon had to take a break to catch his breath, soft laughter escaping his lips. His hand remained at the back of your neck and so did yours on his cheek. But this break didn’t last long because both of you were already hungry for more. Your other hand went into his hair while your mouth landed back on his.

Tugging a little at the strands, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet moan, his lips opening to the kiss. His tongue darted out, tapping against your lower lip and begging for entrance. You let him stew a little until both of your tongues met in a heated battle.

Slowly, Namjoon could feel himself getting hard. Your sweet lips got the best of him and he couldn’t do anything against it when his mind imagined them wrapped around his cock. He could feel it twitch in his pyjama pants, begging for attention. But Namjoon wanted for you to cum first. The outlook of getting to taste you with his tongue between your folds was too promising.

In fact, he didn’t want to wait any longer. As much as he enjoyed making out with you, he wanted to dig into the real fun. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead softly against yours. This time you had to catch your breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Namjoon whispered softly, asking for your permission to go on.

You pecked his lips adoringly. “I mean I’ve been dreaming about it.” Both of you chuckled lightly, caressing each other’s skin. “I couldn’t wish for more this Christmas.” You had to stifle a laugh. This was the most interesting Christmas you had ever had. And you loved it.

Namjoon made his way over to your ear with featherlight kisses to nibble on your earlobe before he hushed into your ear, making you shiver at the nickname he used for you, “I want you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable, baby girl.”

“I will,” you breathed back, enjoying the shivers that ran down your spine as Namjoon’s breath tickled your skin. You buzzed with excitement, awaiting his treatment.

“Okay, baby girl,” he moved down from your ear to your neck, nipping at the skin and grazing his teeth over your shoulder a little. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

While your breathing got heavier at these few words already, he gently pushed your thighs apart with his hands, his upper body moving in the space in between to have better access to your neck. His hands wandered over your inner thighs, setting your skin on fire and your blood boiling.

Another quiet moan escaped your mouth. It all felt just too heavenly. And it made Namjoon proud to know he was making you feel good. You deserved it and he was ready to give it to you for the rest of your life if it meant he would hear your sweet little moans.

As he nibbled lightly on your neck, his hands crawled up your shirt, pushing it up over your chest. His mouth unlatched to attach itself again to one of your nipples immediately, drawing sloppy circles around it. While one of his hands held up the shirt, the other sweetly caressed your other breast, brushing against the sensitive bud and making it stand up, aroused.

Throwing your head back, you pushed your upper body into Namjoon’s face. The treatment he blessed you with was paradisiac. If it was up to you, he could do that for the rest of eternity. Still, there was one place where you needed him a lot more…

“Joonie.” His nickname left your lips in a faint, breathless hush. He let out a breathy moan against your nipple. God, now his mind would forever replay this moment and your needy plea whenever someone would call him by this nickname. You were his rise and his fall.

He pecked your nipple one last time before looking up from in between your breasts with hooded eyes. “Yes, baby girl?”

“I need you,” you breathed out, hands still playing with his soft hair.

He cocked his head, one of his eyebrows rising. “Need me how?”

You let out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He knew exactly how, teasing you in a vulnerable moment. With your cheeks heating up, you looked away for a second. This was still very unchartered territory to you.

Feeling one of his hands back on your cheek, he tilted your head to look at him. Eyes full of genuity, he softly told you, “You don’t need to be ashamed when you’re with me. You can freely tell me what you want because I want to make you feel good.” He took your hand and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, softly muttering against your skin, “I want you to feel safe with me.”

It was easy to tell he was being serious and honest. How did you deserve this man? You mouthed a quiet ‘thank you’ to him, feeling more at ease now. And it gave you the confidence to state your desire.

“Joonie… I need your mouth on me and your tongue in me, please,” you begged as you didn’t break off the eye contact. His eyes lit up at your words and he nodded eagerly, pressing one more kiss on your knuckles before he let your hand go.

“If you need something to hold onto, my hair is as good as anything else,” Namjoon told you, winking at you saucily before levelling his head with your clothed core. You held in a breath as he put a featherlight kiss to your inner thigh before nipping on the smooth skin.

His hands wandered over your lower legs towards your waist where they played with the hem of your pyjama shorts, ghosting over your skin. He could smell your wetness and it drove him crazy. He was just as riled up as you were.

He looked up from between your legs, giving you a very similar view as your dream had. You still couldn’t believe that this was all actually happening.

“Baby girl? Could you do me a favor?” His hands slipped back under your shirt for a second, drawing soft circles on your lower back.

You nodded eagerly, willing to do anything as long as he’d continue his exploration down your pants.

“Could you lift your hips for me a little?” He nodded towards your hips. “We need to get these out of the way.”

You obeyed his request, leaning back while lifting up your hips from the couch. All you wanted was his mouth on you.

Namjoon sucked in a breath, preparing himself for the view he was about to get. He had dreamed of that moment many, many times. In the shower when the thoughts of you got over his head, in bed when he had had another vivid dream of you in his arms.

He gently pulled down both your pyjama shorts and your panties, dragging them slowly over your legs to fully enjoy this moment. The clothing items in question hit one of the snowmen in the face as Namjoon carelessly threw them over his shoulder.

You felt the cold air hit your sensitive skin, dragging in a breath as it came in contact with the rough material of the couch. You needed release desperately right now, even little things like these throwing you off. You sank back into the couch a little.

Heartbeat strumming in his ears, Namjoon’s gaze wandered between your legs, laying eyes on your glistening folds for the first time. It was a sight to behold, at least for him. “Fuck, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, dragging one hand through his hair while lowering back down between your legs.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered while pushing his arms under your legs and pulling them up on his shoulders so he could get better access. You relaxed your upper body on the backrest while shifting your hips up to the edge of the couch so that not only you were comfortable, but it would also be easier for Namjoon.

He gave you one last smile before pressing his head between your legs, his hair pleasantly tickling the inner skin of your thighs. You could feel hot puffs of breath hitting your sensitive folds, making you shiver around him. He hummed lightly, pleased at your reaction.

With his hands gently holding down your thighs, he pressed soft kisses around your pussy, nipping at the skin here and there and biting down softly. He closed his eyes, savoring the last moment before he would get to taste you.

With one hand holding you up, you entangled the other back into his hair, threading through the strands. Your soft gasps filled the air, encouraging Namjoon on.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, dropping a sloppy kiss onto your pussy. Tongue darting out between his lips, he took a long lick along your glistening folds. You tasted so good, he was glad that you would be the first meal of his day besides the coffee.

A strangled moan reached his hair and he opened his eyes to watch you throw your head back in pleasure. You looked like a goddess in the dim light of the morning and the fairy lights, the sinful image burned into his mind forever.

One of his hands reached around your leg to spread your folds for him, your clit coming into view. He latched his mouth onto it, sucking it in like a starved man.

Waves of pleasure rolled over you, feet pressing down on Namjoon’s back. If he kept this up, you would be falling apart in mere minutes. Your hands tugged on his hair, urging him to continue his treatment of your pussy. “Don’t stop,” you breathed out.

He replaced his lips with his thumb, caressing your bundle of nerves while his mouth moved further down. His tongue hungrily lapped at your walls, desperate to catch every taste it could get.

Your hips moved on your own as they pressed themselves against his face willingly, desperate for a release. You could feel your orgasm slowly approaching as Namjoon worked his magic on you.

As his tongue found your entrance, he slowly pushed it inside, before swirling it around a little. You gasped for air as you could feel it massaging your walls, back arching up from the couch. After letting you adjust to the feeling of his tongue inside you, he started darting it in and out at a rapid pace, thumb still fumbling your clit.

His nickname fell from your lips like a waterfall, wonderful music to his ears. You begged him not to stop, promises of you being close spurred him on, going down on you even faster. He could feel his rock-hard cock straining against his pyjama pants, begging to be released. But it was not yet the time.

He needed you to cum all over his tongue first and, hell, he would make sure of that. Feeling your walls contracting around his tongue, he put a little more pressure on your clit, circling and rubbing it gently with his fingers, trying to take you over the edge. You were almost there, he could feel it.

“Joonie, fuck, I am-” The sentence got lost between a heavy mess of moans and whimpers as you finally came with one last stroke around Namjoon’s tongue. You closed your eyes, orgasm blazing through your body in pleasurable waves.

Namjoon lapped up everything he could get, guiding you through your orgasm. As the moans and the whimpers lessened, his mouth, albeit grudgingly, detached from your folds, pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before he looked up about you through his lashes.

As you looked down, you were met with a very vivid image of your last night’s dream as Namjoon’s skin glowed from your juices that were smeared all around his mouth. His hair had fallen into his eyes, not able to hide the playful glint in his eyes. His cheeks were a flushed red, chest heaving for air.

“That was… amazing,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek, thumb caressing the hot skin. You leaned over him, stealing a kiss and tasting yourself on his tongue. “Thank you.”

Namjoon chuckled lightly, taking pride in making you feel so good. He nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your delicate scent. “I think we both actually have someone else to thank.” Both of your gazes fell onto the book that still laid open on the coffee table.

You grinned from ear to ear at his words. “Well, thank you, Santa, I guess then? For helping us idiots?” Both of you couldn’t hold in your laughter at the situation. What a naughty Christmas it had been for sure!

Quietness settled over the two of you for a minute as you enjoyed each other’s company. As Namjoon slowly got up from his kneeling position, you noticed his hard manhood through his pants. Licking your lips, you felt yourself getting wet again. Your hunger for Namjoon had only just awakened.

“How about… a shower?” you proposed, cocking a head at Namjoon. “I think it’s time I’ll take care of you.” Pushing yourself up from the couch, you let your hands roam freely over his upper body.

Namjoon snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you against him. “As if I could say no to that.” You could feel his cock through the soft fabric of his pants pressing against your thigh. Namjoon leaned down, his lips against your ear.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he whispered as he softly started kissing you again under the shining lights of the fairy lights and a mistletoe magically grew down from the ceiling. Santa has his way in fulfilling wishes…

© nottodayjjk 2021 - all rights reserved.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

destiel, 2.4k, mild hurt/comfort, happy ending. for @wormstacheangel who wanted a fic with anemic!Cas <3

"Cas?"

Dean hears a flump from the direction of the bedroom right as he finishes shaving his left cheek. It takes him about five seconds from there to dashing out of the bathroom, sink hastily turned off and half of his neck still covered in white, wearing an expression of worry that doesn't quite go with the foam beard.

Cas seems to hold the same opinion because his face splits in a wide grin the moment Dean enters the room.

A grin almost distracting enough for Dean to not notice that Cas is back on the bed, and suddenly wearing a blanket.

Almost.

"Goddammit, Cas." He sighs, huffing as panic slips away to make room for exasperation. He walks up to the bed, sets about righting the blanket around Cas.

Cas lets him.

"I should've known -"

"- Dean, I forgot -"

"- you were going to ditch your meds the first night after I stop bugging you 'bout them." Dean mutters, ignoring Cas completely as he makes weak attempts at protesting when Dean tucks one corner of his blanket all the way round at the other side, effectively turning him into what he mentally likes to call a Cas-burrito.

He doesn't like to call it anything at the moment though, cause right now, it's just proof of how Cas doesn’t listen.

Friggin' ex-angel of the lord, billions of years old, with libraries worth of stories and history in his head — but taking his meds when they're supposed to be taken, he forgets.

"It wasn't on purpose." Cas insists in a small voice, and Dean shoots an annoyed look at him before stepping back, finally finished with the blanket routine.

If you could call it that.

Well, Dean does call it that.

Because it happened often enough times after Cas's return from the Empty, human as the day Dean was born, to prompt both a title, and a reason to investigate why in the first place.

And not a lot of road to cover from typing in Cas's symptoms in a search engine — headaches, spells of dizziness, fatigue and feeling cold in general (things Cas had dictated to Sam who was typing, while Dean seethed from the next chair at not having been priorly informed of most of those things that warrant being informed about) — to ending up at the conclusion of a few billion (but actually just the first four) results, just minutes after.

Cas had anemia.

(The doctor Dean took him to the very next day, and Sam's completed research on the Novaks' medical history by the time they got back, confirmed it.)

Now, as far as the Winchesters were concerned, that was practically a relief — especially since their next place to look would've been old, tired books of curses, and the meekest of those would've been several times more worrying than the awfullest case of anemia one could possibly get - and Cas's, thankfully, wasn't even that bad.

However, curses are reversible. Or at least, equally as destroyable as their curse-rs are — who, usually, tend to be pretty destroyable when it comes to Sam and Dean.

Mineral deficiencies, on the other hand, are neither.

So supplements it is, as the doctor said and then prescribed — or so it should have been anyways, except for how the love of Dean's life was a giant baby when it came to taking pills.

"Sure it wasn't." Dean rolls his eyes, continuing in his exaggerated 'Cas' voice. "You just forgot."

Cas squint-frowns at Dean with all the ferociousness of a tired, cold and anemic four-weeks-old human, and Dean perches next to him on the edge of their bed with a sigh, the exasperation wearing off too.

(If he hadn't already wrapped them up, this would've been about the time Dean would've taken Cas's hands in his own.)

"Cas," He says, softer now.

Truth be told, Dean can't imagine what it must be like to go from being a - a being, that can heal itself and everything else, to a human who gets shivery and lightheaded cause of things inside of him he can't even control.

It's got to be terrifying, and obviously awful, and Dean's proud of Cas for the way he's been handling all of it — but dammit he's supposed to do the things that make it easier.

Just like he's supposed to let Dean take care of him.

"Dean," Cas replies, looking sideways at him with most of the stubbornness melted from his expression as well. "I'm a little cold but it's okay. I'm fine." He says, like he can still tell exactly what Dean needs to hear.

What he needs Cas to be.

There's a pause and Dean looks down at his hands. He can't help his next question, it's been on his mind for some time.

"What about the first time you were human?"

Cas noticeably withdraws into himself on hearing him, and Dean feels immediately a pang of guilt. It may have gotten easier to read him since he became human, but an accidental display of emotion was still a novelty. (Being difficult to read was apparently more of a Cas trait than an angel feature.)

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't you, uh," Dean pauses. "Shouldn't you also have been anemic then?"

Cas turns away from him, slow enough that Dean knows he's not taken offense, deliberate enough that he's thinking.

He finally answers, facing the wall ten feet away instead of Dean.

"I guess I was."

"But," Dean frowns. "I thought you had no idea you had anemia until last week."

"Dean, I didn't even know there was anything wrong with me until last week." Cas returns, his tone steady. "And back when I was human for the first time, I didn't either, because I'd never known what healthy felt like before, so I had no idea if I was or wasn't it. Of course I knew in an objective sense, say, the ideal temperature of the human body, but the ordinary amount of chilly one should feel on the streets in winter, or how hard or easy falling asleep is supposed to be, I couldn't have told you."

"Oh."

"And I still wouldn't have been able to," Cas turns back to him. "Had you not been the one to point it out."

Dean scoffs.

All he'd done was ask why Cas had been shivering in the middle of the day. That was it. Honestly, how could he not have seen it sooner?

"So you just," Dean lets out, afraid of the answer. "You just thought the cold spells and the, uh," he falters. "The being tired all the time — you thought that was part of being human?"

Cas smiles wryly. "It is for a lot of people."

"But —"

"And it was, Dean, anemia or not, for a lot of the people I lived with back then."

Dean's stomach bottoms out. He knows Cas is right. Six years ago, he'd been living on the streets, living in a bus. Dean remembers him — homeless, cold, sleeping on the floor of a Gas 'N Sip in his only set of clothes, Cas. And he knows he's responsible for it — knows he deserves to be hated for it, and it messes with him everyday that Cas doesn't — but did Cas really not even know what Dean had done to him? What Dean had — and Jesus, he detests himself — made him go through?

"You really thought all of us were going through that," Dean blinks. "And none of us was saying a thing?"

Cas doesn't look away this time and Dean goes on.

"I mean, I know you put humanity on a pedestal it doesn't deserve, and you think we're all capable of things you're capable of, but Cas, I can't believe you associated being human with being cold and tired, and —" Dean scrubs his face with a hand. "Goddammit, Cas! How could I have let you go out there on your own when you — h-how did I not see it, and — and you should never have had to deal with it all alone, I should've —"

"Dean."

It's not until Cas interrupts him that he realizes he's been rambling. Ranting, really, because it's not fair that Cas only got to see the worst of humanity, and it's not fair that Cas was so used to feeling awful that he just figured everyone felt that way all the time. That Cas was all alone at a time Dean should've been there for him, should've been at his side, been there to make sure he was warm, and make sure he ate spinach and seafood and whatever the hell else is rich in iron — hell, Dean should've looked it up sooner — and Dean should've been able to tell that Cas was sick, even if Cas couldn't, because that's his job.

He hasn't felt this way in a while — this particularly familiar fear of failing Cas, and losing Cas, entwined horribly, returning to him; seeping back in through his skin, and settling on his bones like the vast sediments of guilt and loss he's been carrying for most of his life.

Cas is supposed to be okay, and Dean's supposed to make sure he is.

But so far as upto here, turns out Dean's just been failing in more ways than he'd even known.

"Dean," Cas repeats, pulling him out of his reverie with determination in his voice, and a hand on Dean's left arm, his blanket now hanging off of one shoulder.

Dean immediately reaches to make it right but Cas holds him right where he is. Physically and not-drowning-in-his-own-head wise, and he's the only one who can do that.

"You're not listening to me."

Shit, Cas had been speaking this entire time, hadn't he? "Sorry, I was -" Dean looks Cas in the face to apologize, and lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, cause thank god, Cas isn't that pale. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Cas smiles, and it's not lopsided anymore, it's just Cas.

(Dean wonders if he should try to mirror it.)

"I was just saying that now I know that that's not the only part of being human."

"What do you mean?"

"The pain and the suffering, Dean. That's not all." Cas says. "There's also love, and kindness, and worry of the non-lifethreatening kind that dissipates with a smile, and warmth."

Dean stares at him.

"And sure," Cas shrugs. "I knew those things before too — I've read books, I've watched you and Sam — but now I've felt them as humans do, for the very first time, so it's a different kind of knowing."

Cas takes Dean's hand in his, and Dean's the one who squeezes.

"I believe the human expression is 'knowing it in my bones'."

Dean lets out a strained laugh in spite of himself. "Dunno, man. I don't think that's exactly what that means."

"But I do know it in my bones." Cas says simply, and Dean's heart does that thing where it feels too big for his chest. How Cas could go through so much, and still be so full of kindness and good, is one of the mysteries of life Dean's never going to solve — but it doesn't stop him from falling a little bit harder every time it happens.

"You should've gotten to know it the last time too, Cas." Dean tells him, sighing again. "I'm just — I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Well, you are now." Cas tilts his head. "And I prefer the things I'm learning this time over the last time anyway, and I believe it's you who's always taught me that the present is what matters the most. I'm just glad you're here this time."

"And I'm not going anywhere." Dean squeezes their hands tighter, and Cas's smile grows. God, he deserves the world and he keeps settling for Dean, doesn't he — and Dean hates it, and loves it, and couldn't live without it. He puts his other hand on Cas's face, gloving his cheek. Cas leans closer.

"I love you."

Dean's throat constricts. "You're too good to me."

"I think that's the point."

Dean can't help but smile, and he really can't help the tears.

"I'm okay." Cas says, once more. "Are you?"

There's only one answer, and nothing to fight this time.

Dean closes the gap.

"I love you too."

It's not their first kiss, nor is it the first time they've ever said it — but it feels more significant than anything's felt before. It's more them, too — not sickly-sweet or angry and fighting, just them, coming around to the end of a hard talk, falling into each other's arms with an ease they reserve for each other only, and sinking into each other, slow and perfectly synced, like they're made for it.

When they pull back, a moment later, Dean leans his forehead against Cas's and licks his lips. Breathes.

"There's so much more to being human," he hears himself saying. "Than you'd ever find out just living here in the bunker with us."

"Dean," it's Cas's turn to sigh. "I've already found everything I need."

Dean's cheeks heat up. "I thought it was never too late to learn."

"It isn't." Cas leans back, hands falling back to his sides from where they were wrapped around Dean's neck. "But sometimes, practising old things is more important."

Dean immediately dissolves into laughter. "Yeah, no, great going. Call me old before you go to town practising on me."

Cas ignores him save a twinkle in his eyes. "And some things, I'd like us to learn together."

Dean grins.

"And some things," Cas concludes, with a wide smile. "Aren't taught anywhere else in the world."

"Yeah?"

Cas shrugs.

"Why so?"

"Well, rumor has it the teacher's afraid of flying."

Dean freezes for a moment, silent, and then snorts — because yeah, that's funny, Ha Ha, but okay, if Cas is fit enough to make jokes, then he's fit enough to take his meds now, and Dean tells him that gleefully, resulting in Cas's grin immediately turning upside down as he tries to scoot away from Dean, except Dean's kinda expecting it so he's prepared to launch himself on the bed if he has to — and he does have to, cause Dean might love him for his heart, and his courage, and his kindness, but remember how Cas is just a baby in a trenchcoat?

Yeah.

(And that is just a regular morning in the Winchester household.)