#i hope you have a good night/day !! remember to drink water n take your meds n vitamins if you havent already <3

[emmyrosee]

hiya emmyy

i’m in love with your soft bf!sukuna pieces they’re just, melting me into a puddle of simp- so.. i saw your post abt angst so what would you think abt sukuna and y/n arguing, and making up after that? i dunno why but i’m just picturing him texting you to eat your meals and drink water and take your meds, even tho he acts like he doesn’t care at all 🫣 (did i js want that in bf? yes )

thank you so much for providing a lots of pieces for simps like me (who pretty much simp over anyone they can) and i might show up in your notifications bombarding your posts with likes but i hope you don’t mind ;)

hope you’re having a good day (and get good rest, water, food (and meds if you take them!)) <3

-sky :)

SUKUNA ANGST BUT HIM BEING DOTING MY BELOVED 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

When you banish him to the couch for the night, he merely scoffs and grabs his pillow to make his way for it, but he hears your soft cries and his heart breaks just enough to make whatever you were fighting about seem beyond unimportant.

He takes his phone out to scroll on through it, trying to distract himself from the situation, too stubborn to fully cave into the guilt. But then he sees the time, and he sends you a text.

SENT don’t forget to take your medicine.

I think there’s a bottle of gatorade in the fridge. Drink that and have one of my protein shakes, since we didn’t eat tonight

dummy 🙄 why do you care?

SENT because I still fucking love you?? Duh??

Fights aren’t going to change that fact, idiot

He clicks his phone off and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the automatic lamp and the moonlight that creeps in from the curtains and into the big living room, and he tries not to look as you come stalking back out of the bedroom and approach him.

“You remembered that I have to take my meds,” you swallow thickly.

He scoffs, “and?”

He hears you shuffle awkwardly, “we’ve just… been fighting so long, I thought you would’ve forgotten, too- because I did.”

Now, he finally peeks at you from his arm, “I’m never going to forget something that important. You know that.”

He watches as you timidly, raise a hand to lay on his thigh, thumb stroking the muscle lovingly, “I’m sorry I banished you to the couch.” You look down in shame, “I never want us to go to bed separate… I don’t want to be the couple that does this, who needs to do this.”

“I didn’t do this,” he grumbles.

“I know; but I only did it because I was hurt, Sukuna. Please understand where I was coming from.”

This makes his heart jerk and tighten, his arm finally coming down to look at you fully, and with a click of his tongue, he reaches down to lace his hand with yours, and he sighs, “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work shit out with, so I get it.”

You sniffle, “Will you… maybe… come back to bed? With me?”

He ponders his options for a minute. He could go back to bed, condition you into thinking that it was okay and you’ll always pull this crap on him. But you look so sad, so heartbroken and wearing your heart on your sleeve-

And hey. Maybe he likes watching you grovel a little bit.

He clicks his tongue and makes a move to get you off his legs, and you smile excitedly. “Alright,” he gruffs. “Pull this shit again though, and I’m sleeping on the porch swing at ma’s.”

You nod your head, and as he sits up, he plants a kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your hand lovingly.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are, Kuna.”

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Delicate

is it cool that i said all that? is it chill that you’re in my head?

pairing: jake seresin x reader

warnings: drinking/being drunk

wc: 841

a/n: just a fun little blurb ☺️

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that

Getting shit-faced early into a Friday night probably wasn’t in your best judgement. It was barely 11 and you already had so much alcohol in your system - but after a bad week at work, you needed it.

It wasn’t really your fault that it happened with almost all of your coworkers there, but they invited you to a bar. Were you just supposed to sit there and not drink?

You were barely coherent talking to some guy at the bar whom had just bought you another drink when you felt a strong hand on your upper arm pulling you off your stool and towards the door.

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Jake stood in front of you with a hard look on his face.

“No, I didn’t finish,”

“Yes, you have. You’ve been drinking all night, darlin’, it’s quitting time,” he pulled you out the door of the Hard Deck.

“No,”

“Yes, c’mon, let me take you home,” he begged, opening the passenger door of his truck.

“But Natasha said she wanted to take me home,”

“She told me to bring you home, now c’mon,”

You hesitantly got in but Jake reassured you that you were okay. You love Jake, you’d decided that about 4 drinks and 5 years ago.

“I can tell you love me,”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Because you care about me and you’re taking me home.”

“I care about all my friends,”

“Yes, I know, that’s why I love you,”

“You love me, huh? Well I love having you as a friend too,” Jake was treading carefully, simultaneously being shocked at the words coming out of your mouth. He’d loved you for years, but had always been too hesitant to say anything because he didn’t think you felt the same.

“I do love you!! But as more than my friend,” you whispered the last part, to where it was barely audible.

“You got no idea what you’re sayin’, you’re drunk,”

“I may be drunk, but I do love you,” you slurred your words and smiled dopily at him.

“Tell me when you’re sober, and I’ll show you what love is.”

He pulled into your driveway and didn’t say another word to you. Processing everything you just said is fucking difficult, it’s not every day the girl you’ve loved and pined over tells you she loves you back.

He helped you out of your car and into your house.

“Bye, Jake, I love you,”

“Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he turned to leave when you shouted at him.

“Wait! Can you stay?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

“Please, I can sleep on the couch,”

“No, I’m not taking your bed,”

“Okay, then you sleep on the couch,”

“Baby..”

“Please, Jake,” he took a deep breath. It felt morally wrong to sleep over, especially since you were heavily inebriated, but he could take care of you if he stayed.

“Alright,” he locked his truck and then your front door.

You went to your bedroom to change and get ready for bed. After about 15 minutes of Jake awkwardly wandering around your house, you brought out a couple blankets and a pillow.

You said your goodnights and you went to your room. You were out almost immediately, Jake however, laid awake for what he thought was another 5 hours pondering what had happened and how he’d gotten on your couch.

You’d woken up with a glass of water and Tylenol by your bed. You look around to see if anyone had come home with you, because you can’t really remember anything.

Your bed and bathroom were clear, so you got up, brushed your teeth, took the meds, and walked out into the kitchen. That’s when you saw him.

Lieutenant Jake Seresin was standing in your kitchen, shirtless.

“I hope you don’t mind that I changed, I had a pair of sweats in my car,”

You stuttered put a response, “Um, yeah, no, that’s fine.”

You finally remembered what had happened last night, and embarrassingly so. You remembered everything from drinking way too much, to telling Jake you love him, to keeping him hostage on your couch.

You walked over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup. A tense silence hung between the two of you.

“So about last night,” you started.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry,”

“For?”

“Getting shit-faced, saying some… things, and keeping you hostage,”

“Don’t stress it, we all have our moments, believe me,” he let out a light hearted laugh, he paused for a minute before speaking again, “Do you not remember what I said?”

“I do,” he let out a hum to your response, “and I do… still love you.”

His eyes brightened and he pulled you into him by the waist. He held your face and smiled as he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.

You fell into the kiss and God, have you waited for this.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Hello again! It's me the person who requested the hybrid reader! Before I go on I just wanted to say that I absolutely adored what you wrote and loved how you added ninat as the readers mom and I really appreciate your hard work! Since you wrote the reader to be omatikaya can I request a metkayena hybrid? It's the same as before scientists abandoned reader but this time ronal finds reader passed out and takes reader to heal them and see what happened to them, after that she asks reader why they're like this so reader explains everything and ronal adopts reader, after that the sully family arrives and they're really surprised to see a hybrid like that, hopefully I didn't write too much and I want you to take as much time as you need and remember to drink water and rest!!! :D, also Im gonna put this star 𖤐 so whenever I request something you know it's me, hope you have a great day!

ₐbₐₙdₒₙₑd by ₜₕₑ ₛₑₐ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐚, 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐮𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨����.

ᴍᴇᴛᴋᴀʏɪɴᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ x ᴍᴇᴛᴀ-ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ! (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ),ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʟʟʏꜱ x ᴍᴇᴛᴀ-ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: child abandonment, child neglect, mentions of experimenting on a fetus, reader has a bit of PTASD and thalassophobia.

A/N: I'm glad you liked the first fic! I was actually planning on writing another one of these, but a Metkayina hybrid XD did we think of the same thing? Anyway, thanks you for your kinds words and for sending in your other request! I did know how the emoji anon works, but now I do, thank you again.♡

Have a nice day/night and have a good rest, you deserve it :)

Masterlist

The Tulkun had returned, after the small welcoming ceremony, the Tulkun had gone off to roam around the sea around the Village. Ronal had finished her duties, so she went to go see Roa and catch up with her. Ever since the birth of her children, Ronal has been talking to Roa about both Ao'nung and Tsireya, she really loved her children and she wanted to share that love with Roa.

When she arrived to where her and Roa normally med up, she noticed something laying on Roa's right eye. Ronal thought that she must have been hurt, but when she saw what it was, she was beyond shocked. "I see you sister" Ronal sighed to the Tulkun, who had also greeted her sister. "I found a child on her own out here" she said towards the Tsahik, who was now sitting on her right fin to look at the so called child.

But this child wasn't any ordinary child, she was a particular child. Ronal got a better look at her. She was a human child, or was she? Ronal noticed how her skin was marked with darker lines, similar to her wavy stripes, her little arms and ankles were a bit wider, similar to fins. Then she saw her little pointed ears, along with more dark marking on her face and cheeks, her feline like nose and for sure her eyes must be wider. Her tale was similar as well and she had a little queue coming down from her short hair.

Ronal couldn't tell because she was asleep, she also noticed a white hospital gown on the child and a small band wrapped around her left arm, it had some kind of serial number on it and a small titled 'Project Pandora 001'. "Sister, you must help this child" Roa begged Ronal who was still looking at the unconscious child. Should she really? This child was a human, but also a na'vi of her kind. She stopped to think, but finally came to a decision. "I will" Ronal signed to Roa. In which the Tulkun thanked her sister.

On the way back to the village, Ronal had you cradled close to her chest. You very small compared to a na'vi child, it would make sense due to being human but you were also a hybrid of a Metkayina. Ronal also noticed how you got closer to her warmth and shivered a bit, it must have been due to you being cold.

When she arrived, she carried you in her big arms, while she made her way back to her marui, she was greeted by some villagers, but they also couldn't help but noticed the small child in her arms. They had grown curious on why the Tsahik had a small human child. She finally made it to the small home, and was greeted by her children and her husband. Just like the other villagers, they were surprised when they saw you in Ronal arms.

Ronal had laid you down in a matt and got to work checking on you. The whole time, Tsireya and Ao'nung watched their mother do her ritual but they were also looking at you, studying your features. Tonowari didn't interrupt his wife's ritual, just like his children, he studied you. Seen how you were a human, but also had Metkayina features, he knew right away that you were the creation of humans.

Finally you were responding, they watched as you slowly opened your eyes, exposing that you had a third eyelid and the color of your eyes were similar to the Metkayina's green and blue. "Doctor?" that was all your tiny voice had manage to say. Then you saw up, and noticed how you weren't in the lab. You noticed the family that was now staring at you, you felt small due to them being bigger, even the kids that looked around your age were bigger.

Tonowari was first one to speak. "Who are you?" he asked, he sounded kind of scary since his voice was loud and a bit demanding. Then Ronal gave him a look, a little warning to show that you were obviously scared and confused. "I'm sorry about him, what is your name?" she asked, almost too sweetly. You shyly looked at the Tsahik, but responded. "I'm Experiment number 001" you said, this make Ao'nung scoff. "What kind of name is that?" Tsireya then gave him a light smack on the back of his head, causing him to glare at her.

"Where are you from?" Ronal asked again. "From the lab" you said, playing with the trim of the hospital gown. "A Human lab?" Tonowari asked, less demanding this time. You nodded. "Where are your parents?" Tsireya asked, looking at you, very tempted to go over where you were. "I don't have parents, I'm with the doctors" you said, making the couple look at each other, with concern. "You don't have a mother or father?" Ronal asked and you shock his head. "No, I was made in the lab."

"How!?" Ao'nung yelled, now very curious on how you were created, but he received a glare from his mother which made him nervous. "I don't know how to explain, but I was told that I made in a tank. A lady placed an egg in the tank and then I grew. I think the egg was me" you explained, this kind of made the couple worry. "How did you end up here?" Tsireya asked again. "I don't know, I was instructed to to swim a mile, just like every day, but when I went back to the ship, it was gone."

This made Ronal and Tonowari's stomach's drop. The same humans that had created you had abandoned you on your own, in the middle of the ocean, one of the most dangerous bodies of water. The couple then look at one another, as if they were having a silent conversation between one another. Tsireya had got closer to you, looking at your markings and other features with curiosity. You showed her your little arms, seeing that you had the same wavy marking on your skin.

After the couple had their silent conversation then turned to you. "How would you like it, if you had a family?" Tonowari asked, this made your ears perk up by the question. "Really, but who'd take me?" You asked, making Ronal respond to your question. "Us, we'll take you in" she said, this made your small tail kind of wag, lightly tapping on the wooden floor. "Promise you won't leave me?" you asked, this almost made Tonowari's heart break. He picked you up and placed you on his lap. "We promise, that we'll never leave you." You wrapped your little arms around his huge torso, hugging him tightly.

It had been announced that the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk had adopted a child, they village was told that they must treat you the way they treat their children, since you were now their daughter. Just like every na'vi, you received a Songcord and a First Breath Ceremony, this was to show that you were now born again as one of them, and later on in life, you'll be a Metkayina. Sure, you were already late, but it was still done.

Ronal had began to teach you how to properly swim and breath underwater, you did know how to swim and hold your breath, but you'd only last a couple minutes under the water and your swimming looked a bit odd. Since she was teaching her children you were taught the same. You learned how to dive, breathe and how to swim from side to side.

Tsireya was already caring towards you since she first met you, she'd take you everywhere and introduced you to her friends. She was also your second teacher when it came to learning how to weave, ride an ilu and so on. She really loved calling you her sister, spite being a human, she really loved you. At first Ao'nung wasn't sure on how to treat you since you were part human, the stories he had heard of those demons really stuck with him. As time passed, he grew to also care about you, he treated you like his sister. Just like Tsireya, Roxto already liked you, he treated you like one of his many sisters and female cousins.

As much as you loved the ocean, you were also scared of going further the small beaches. You, Ao'nung and Roxto were on the canoe, rowing around the village, but Ao'nung wanted to further then you guys normally did, you weren't sure at first, but Ao'nung convinced you into going. When you were getting further and further away from the village, you began to freak out and begged to head back. But Ao'nung tried to calm you down and tell you that you were okay, but you freaked out even more to the point of crying. Roxto was the one to calm you down while Ao'nung rowed you back.

When you arrived back, Tonowari saw how bad you were crying and asked what happened, while Ao'nung explained what he did, Roxto continued to calm you down and that you were safe. No one got in trouble, Tonowari explained why you reacted the way that you did. Ao'nung felt bad and promised to not do it again.

You had grown attached to one of the ilus, you liked all of them, but their was one that you had been around since she was young. She did let others ride her, but you and her were practically made for one another. She basically knew you very well, she knew how you'd get when you'd get scared if she was heading a bit further from the village, she'd quickly go back so that you don't freak out more.

Years had passed and you just like the rest of your brothers and sister were already in your teen years. You were all getting prepaired to become adults you, Ao'nung, and Roxto had become good hunters, meanwhile Tsireya was going to begin her Tsahil training, life was going great.

Then something unexpected had happened. A family from the Forest had come to the village, seeking for Uturu, it was the one and only Toruk Makto with his family. He was done with war and wanted to keep his family safe. Your father had allowed him and his family to stay, with the condition that they'll learn to adapt like them. Ao'nung, Tsireya and you were in charged in teaching the children what to do. You could tell how surprised they were when they saw a human hybrid like you living with the Metkayina.

You and your sister where kind enough to show the Sully family around the village and take them to their now home. You also noticed how you'd get glances from them here and their, but you didn't mind since you were used to getting that kind of attention when you first arrived.

When the teaching began, you'd get asked a bunch of questions on how it was possible for you to be with the reef na'vi. Was one of your parents human and the other a Metkayina Na'vi? is their more like you or are you the only one? So on. You answered their questions honestly so that they understood you more. They had seemed to like you like they liked Tsireya.

[diamondedqe]

bro he is simply vibing

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 28 - Sunlight [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, hospitals, medicine.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Survival makes people stronger.

Everyone’s voices were so muffled that for a moment it felt as if you were under water. It came and went just like the warmth, just like the comfort—

One moment there, the other moment far away, and anytime you tried to reach through that haze, you were pushed back into the numbness.

You could swear at some point your father was there too. You were still at the cabin, in that dress, sitting across from him by the chessboard, and then back at the weekend house where your sister was chasing you around the piano, your mother calling out for you to stop running, then someone pushing you into the lake by the cabin before it changed again and your father handed you a knife.

If this is hell, I’d like to talk to the manager.

But eventually, it all came back to you. There was this heaviness on your hand, your chest and ribs hurt terribly and your forehead kept stinging as you tried to open your eyes to meet the bright lights of the hospital room.

Ah. You weren’t in the woods anymore.

You had made it after all.

The constant beeping of the machine caught your attention for a moment before you looked down to see Spencer’s head resting on your hand, his fingers entwined with yours. Your mother was by the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling with a crumpled tissue in her hand and Mina was resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mom?” you rasped out and your mother’s eyes whipped to yours, Mina sat up and Spencer’s head shot up.

“Oh thank God!” your mother jumped out of her seat to come to your beside and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making you wince. “Oh thank God you’re okay…”

“Hey,” Mina wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, “Welcome back brat.”

You smiled and turned to Spencer who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes.

“I know,” you said, “No eyeliner right?”

A small sob mixed with laughter rose from his throat and he pressed your hand to his lips, swallowing thickly.

“Hi.”

“Hey professor,” you tried to smile but you were in too much pain to do so, “Is there like…a morphine button or-?”

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Mina rushed out of the room and closed the door behind her, and your mother pulled back.

“How do you feel honey?”

“Like I crawled out of hell,” you said, “Is- is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine.”

“Where’s Lily?”

“With Kenzie and Nolan, outside.”

You let out a breath and turned to Spencer.

“You figured it out?” you asked, “The note?”

“Ophelia, yeah,” he sniffled and nodded fervently, “Cabin by the lake, we were on our way there when—” he stopped talking as if remembering it was way too heavy on him and you squeezed his hand.

“How did I….” you looked between them, “Survive? Erica shot me.”

“The helicopter,” your mother said, “We sent it with a medic and a sniper just in case.”

“You sent a helicopter with a medic and a sniper?” you repeated, “Mom, that sounds like a joke.”

“Well I’m glad you find it funny,” your mother wiped at her eyes again, “Because you’re grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Okay,” you shot a look at Spencer, “Ignore this.”

“No, not even your boyfriend can help you right now.”

“They still like you, no worries,” you explained and he shook his head slightly, reaching out to touch your cheek as if trying to prove to himself that you were real.

“I thought—“ he started and blinked back the tears, gritting his teeth and you rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“I’m fine,” you said and lifted your head when the thought hit you, “Wait what happened to Lincoln?”

A shadow crossed Spencer’s eyes and your mother flexed her fingers as if she wanted to throttle someone upon hearing his name.

“That monster is currently handcuffed to a hospital bed,” she said, “But not to worry, we put ten guards in front of his door, and I will make sure to ruin his life myself.”

“He survived?”

“Barely,” Spencer said through his teeth but before he could say anything else, the door opened and a doctor stepped in. Even you could hear Lily’s very loud protests, Kenzie trying to shush her and you smiled slightly before turning to the doctor who was checking the file in her hand.

“Hello Y/N,” she said cheerfully “Nice to see you awake, for a moment you had me worried we wouldn’t get to meet. So, we have head trauma, a bullet wound, broken ribs and blood loss. Were you trying to fill out a bingo of dangerous injuries or…?”

“Go big or go home doc,” you nodded and she raised her brows.

“Should I put in a psychiatric evaluation in here as well then?”

“Yes please,” your mother pinched the bridge of her nose and you heaved a sigh, making a face.

“Pain?”

“A lot.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” she said and Spencer stood up.

“Can I see her chart please?” he asked and she took almost taken aback before showing him the chart.

“I’d like to change these two meds,” Spencer said and started listing off his suggestions while you watched him with a smile on your face.

“Spencer,” you said, “Please let the nice and smart lady do her job.”

The doctor grinned at you, “That’s alright. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

“Two questions. One, when can I go home?”

“We’d like to keep you under observation for a couple of days, depending on how fast your body shows progress to heal.”

“Okay. Can I smoke here?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” your mother threw her head back, Spencer just stared at you and the doctor blinked a couple of times.

“Since this job taught me never to take any question as hypothetical,” she said, “I’m just going to answer it. No, under absolutely no circumstances are you allowed to smoke here.”

You curled your lips, “It was worth a try.”

“We’ll give you some really good painkillers, don’t worry,” she winked, “I’ll let the rest of your family in and see you later.”  

She walked to the door and opened it, and soon enough Lily rushed inside but as soon as she leaped at you, Kenzie caught her mid-air like a troublesome cat.

“No, what did I say outside?”

“But mama—“

“It’s okay Kenz. Hi bug.”

Kenzie gave you a teary eyed smile and slowly set Lily down, and she hugged her teddy bear before taking a step towards you, nibbling on her lip.

“Does it hurt?” she pointed at the stitches on your forehead and you tilted your head.

“Just a little, sweetie.”

She carefully put the teddy bear beside your bed and grinned at you.

“Mr. Chocolate Chip Cookie will be your friend here,” she patted the teddy bear’s head and you let out a small laugh.

“I really appreciate it bug, thank you,” you said and held the teddy bear in your lap before you turned to Nolan. “Hey man, thanks for the helicopter.”

“Thanks for the almost heart attack,” he replied and fixed his bowtie, “You keep me young with all this panic and adrenaline. Honestly Y/N, never do that to us again, please.”

“I’ll try my best not to get kidnapped by a maniac again,” you stated, “Besides, mom already grounded me so…”

“Good! No jet for you for a while young lady.”

A nurse came in to inject the painkiller into your IV, and you smiled at the sight of your family fondly, then cleared your throat.

“Hey, not that I didn’t miss you guys,” you said, “But um…can I talk to Spencer for a moment?”

Kenzie and Mina exchanged looks and Kenzie lifted Lily up.

“We’ll be right outside,” she said and walked to the door. One by one they left the room and your jaw dropped when you saw Mina squeezing Spencer’s shoulder before she left as well.

“Well, something changed,” you commented and Spencer came to pull a chair next to the bed before he reached out to hold your hand.

“She was the first one to talk to me when we landed,” his voice still didn’t sound so strong and you frowned.

“What did she say?”

“Go there and bring my sister back.” Spencer said and ran a hand over his eyes, “Based on the profile, I thought he’d already—“ he couldn’t even finish that sentence before he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought I lost you.”

“Nah, cigarettes will kill me, not serial killers,” you reached out to push a curl out of his eyes, “I thought you knew that. All looks and no smarts, aren’t you?”

He scoffed a shaky laugh and you licked your lips.

“What happened there?” you asked, “I heard gunshots after Erica shot me, is she—“

“Dead,” Spencer nodded, “She was shot right there.”

You could feel the goosebumps on your skin, “And Lincoln?”

“I was going to kill him,” Spencer said, “If I got there first, I would’ve.”

“Spencer you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he told you, a dangerous light gleaming in his eyes, “I do mean that.”

You heaved a sigh, now easier thanks to the painkillers, “Yeah well, I guess I know the feeling.”

“Um- the team is outside as well by the way,” he said, “Luke and Garcia has been here the whole night, and I’ve been instructed to tell you, word by word, no amount of pastries will excuse the worry you put them through.”

You grinned, the tired haze of sleep crashing on you, “Ouch, I’ll have to try harder I guess,” you said and yawned, making Spencer smile.

“Rest a little,” he said, “I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head back to the pillows, then closed your eyes.

                                                 ***

You were given the permission to go home after a week because your mother insisted on keeping you there until she was convinced you wouldn’t drop dead all of a sudden. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t raise hell when you told her you would be staying at Spencer’s place for a while, and for once, Mina agreed with you.

You really needed to ask Spencer what had happened while you were gone, in detail.

It was strange, but your sleep was much less disturbed after you had returned from the hospital. When you were in hospital you had just assumed it was because of the meds they had given you, but now, sleeping with Spencer in his bed, there was still no sign of any nightmares.

With you, that was. Spencer was a completely different story.

You still had to be careful because of your ribs and the doctor had told you to be careful with how you slept, so the moment you moved a little in your sleep and felt the pain shooting through you, you made a face and reached for Spencer’s side of the bed only to meet an empty spot. You opened your eyes, and carefully sat up in bed, trying to hear whether there was any noise to signal he was coming back to bed but there was none, so you slipped out of the bed and walked to the living room.

Of course he was there. Cradling a cup with steam coming out of it in his hands, staring into the darkness as if he was lost in his own mind.

“Spencer?” you said softly and he turned his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile, “Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you tilted your head before you went to sit beside him and he ran a hand through his curls.

“It’s not important.”

“Nightmares?” you asked and he nodded silently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” he murmured, “How about you? Any pain? Do you need an ice bag?”

You shook your head, “Nah it’s fine,” you said, “It doesn’t hurt that terribly.”

“And your nightmares?”

You shrugged, “No nightmares. I mean—at least not like the earlier ones. Not where I’m turning into him.”

“Trauma works differently in everyone.”

“I don’t think it’s the trauma though,” you said, “I think it’s because…because I know now.”

He raised his brows, his whole attention on you, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not in me,” you said, “It’s just—it’s just not. I don’t think it ever was. My father killed people because it made him feel powerful. It wasn’t like that with me, back at the cabin. It was survival. For me and people I care about, that’s all. It doesn’t make me evil.”

That seemed to pull him out of his thoughts and he smiled.

“No it doesn’t,” he said, “You’ve never been evil. Even when he tried to turn you into that.”

Even your heart felt light, despite the pain in your ribs and your smile widened.

“I know he’s not dead but…”

“He’s locked away. Same difference from now on.”

You paused for a moment, “Speaking of,” you said, “I was thinking I could go and see him for the last time.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll help me put this whole thing behind me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I want to see the look on his face when he realizes his small project failed,” you said, “Trust me. There’s no way he can get to me, not anymore.”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and you leaned back to the back of the couch, still keeping your gaze on his handsome face.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you said, “If it’s too much.”

“It’s not that,” he rasped out, “Officially, I might not be allowed in.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leaving the BAU.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him, then sat up straighter.

“What?”

“I can’t anymore,” he averted his glances from you to look into space, nibbling on his lip, “Y/N, I was out of the city when they called me to tell me you were missing, that you were most probably taken by the copycat. And for the whole time until I found you…” his voice cracked, “Lincoln’s profile, before we even knew that he was Lincoln, it all suggested that he…killed his victims without spending any time with them. I thought—“ he sniffled and cleared his throat, “I can’t do that anymore. Imagining you like all those victims…”

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t,” he said, barely moving his lips, “Back there.”

Ah. The woods.

“That’s what your nightmare was about?” you asked and he heaved a shaky sigh.

“I couldn’t save you,” he said, “You died there, and I couldn’t do anything, I was too late—“

“Spencer,” you reached out to touch his cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

He turned his head so that his eyes would meet yours and you dragged your fingertips over the slight stubble on his cheek.

“You weren’t too late,” you told him, “And I didn’t die. Okay? I’m right here. Don’t leave the BAU because of me, do it only if you want to. I’ll be with you either way.”

He blinked back the tears and nodded. “I want to,” he whispered, “I can’t anymore, and I want- I want to be here. I’ll just…I’ll focus on teaching, and the team can consult me whenever they need to, but I need to be here.”

“And you’re sure about that? It’s not some…heat of the moment decision?”

“It’s not,” he said, “I’m positive.”

“Alright,” you smiled at him softly, “Okay then. I guess instead of talking about gruesome murders and copycats who were after me, we can be one of those boring, cliché couples who bicker about…I don’t know, dirty dishes in the sink, or how you forgot to put down the toilet seat or-“

“Your hair in the drain.”

“I’m going to pretend like you weren’t waiting for the opportunity to bring that up.”

He let out a teary laugh and wiped at his eyes before he pulled you closer and carefully wrapped his arms around you so as not to hurt your ribs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You brushed your fingers through his curls, as if trying to prove to him that you were there, that you were alright.

“I love you so much,” the confession left his lips in a whisper and you could feel the burning behind your eyes as you raked your nails over the nape of his neck gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, “God, you have no idea how much.”

                                                      ***

The BAU, upon your request, fixed a meeting with your father for the next week.

And throughout that week, everyone tried to convince you to change your mind. Your mother had made a whole scene during brunch, telling you that it was as if you liked torturing yourself, but you knew deep down that you had to talk to him for the last time.

Seeing your father after what felt like a life time, especially after everything that you had been through was strange at the very least. You didn’t have any goosebumps, you didn’t have that nervousness messing with your head, you didn’t feel like you were under the threat of being attacked any time, and most of all—

You didn’t feel like he was stronger than you. At all.

You lit a cigarette in the interrogation room, then flipped the cap of the lighter and turned your head when the door opened and your father walked in, chains dangling from his handcuffs wrapped around his ankles. He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he didn’t expect to see you there and let out a breath.

“Petal…”

“You should sit down,” you said, exhaling the smoke and a guard helped him sit down across from you.

“We’re right outside, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said and watched as he straightened his back, his gaze focused on you.

“You look…” he trailed off and you raised your brows,

“Hm?”

“What did they do to you?”

“Ah I guess your outside source ending up dead gets you a bit behind on the news,” you said, “Erica is dead, Lincoln is never gonna see the sunlight again, and your whole project to turn me into your legacy with the help of them failed terribly.”

“I’d never allow them to harm you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

“But you fought your way out, didn’t you?” he asked you, “Looks like my training helped you after all. Even if you refuse to see that.”

“Did you seriously think I’d become like you?” you asked back, “Did you think Lincoln would manage to turn me into you?”

“Honey, Lincoln was going to be your companion at best, your first kill at worst.” he said and you clicked your tongue.

“Oh, that was your plan all along?”

“Some part of it, at least. I knew they wouldn’t be able to handle you, but I thought you could decide what to do with them. Could you kill Erica at least?”

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“You should have,” he said, “You would see, Petal.”

You twirled the cigarette between your fingers, staring at him for a couple of seconds.

“I keep thinking,” you mused, “You know what I said to Mina and Kenzie when they first told me they wanted to have a baby?”

He tilted his head, “Hm? What?”

“I asked them if they lost their minds.”

Your father pulled back slightly and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Because I mean… Kenzie’s parents are assholes, and there’s you,” you motioned at him, “Not that anyone else could take the cake on being a messed up parent when you’re in the picture.”

“I take offense to that.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “But then it hit me, back at the hospital. I was looking at this whole mess from the wrong perspective.”

“Which is?”

“They had a point,” you said, “Back then- before all this I mean, I thought when someone decided to have kids, their first priority was to be the perfect parent. That’s stupid, it’s impossible to be the perfect parent, our own parents mess us up in one way or another. But I get it now.”

“You get what?”

“The first step is being better than your own parents, not starting out perfect,” you said, “That’s why every generation is different, we’re all trying to be better than our parents, and some of us actually succeed.”

“And you think you’d be a better parent than me, is that it?”

“Shouldn’t take that much of an effort to be honest.”

“Are you…?” he motioned at you and you scoffed.

“No,” you said, “No, but what happened back there made me think. I’ve been living my whole life so convinced that you messed me up beyond my own control, beyond saving, but that’s not completely true, is it? I mean, just because you’re in my past, doesn’t mean I’ll have to include you in my present.”

“But I am in your present Petal.”

You pursed your lips together, then gestured around you. “Debatable. Nolan is buying this whole place, did you know that?” you asked, “All your guards are on our paychecks, so it should be harder to…use them to contact outside. We control everything that’s happening here, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

He blinked a couple of times, trying to catch up with your train of thought.

“And you think that will be enough to put me behind you?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t think it’s that easy,” you confessed, “But it’s a start.”

He moved his hands on the table, the chain rattling.

“I raised you.” he said, “I’m inside your head, whether you like it or not. You’re my legacy—“

“I’m my own legacy, you fucking idiot,” you said with a small chuckle, “That’s who I am. Just because your expectations of me will not leave me, doesn’t mean I’ll let them haunt me.”

“And you think that will be enough.”

“I will never see you again,” you tilted your head, “Should make things easier, to be honest.”

He smiled, “But you already hurt people,” he said “You know how it feels now, don’t you? That fire? Now you know what you’re capable of.”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah I do. Now I know that if it ever comes to that point, I’m capable of protecting myself and my family. It doesn’t make me a monster, it makes me a survivor. Me and mom have that in common, after the shit you’ve pulled.”

He stared at you and you took a last drag of your cigarette, then checked your wristwatch.

“Well I should go. You may have all the time in the world, but I actually have a life, so…”

You stubbed your cigarette and walked to the door but as soon as you opened it, he said your name, making you stop.

“You can’t escape from this,” he said, “Even if you never see me again, you still won’t escape, you know that, right? Why do you think I chose you and not your sister? Even when you were a child, you had…something in you. Something dark, something dangerous.”

The idea was very familiar to you. You had been saying the same thing to yourself for many years and hearing it from him for what felt like a hundredth time was supposed to make you feel bad, you knew that. If it were any other time before your kidnapping, before saving yourself in that cabin, before surviving everything your father and his followers had put you through, it would probably have more effect on you.

The last time he had done that, you had ended up in the stairs, shaking until Spencer had found you.

But it wasn’t that time.

It was as if something had clicked inside your head after everything, and your father’s words held no strength in them.

“Come on honey,” he told you, “Some people are just born twisted.”

A small smile pulled at your lips and you raised your brows, looking at him for a couple of seconds, etching the sight of him in chains into your memory.

“Maybe,” you said and took a step towards him, opening your cigarette case to pull out the small jasmine flower out of it, then put it on the table, eyes locked to his before you leaned in slightly.

“But I wasn’t.”

With that, you turned around and walked out of the interrogation room for the last time, ignoring the way he was yelling your name. Your smile widened as you made your way out of the building, your heels echoing in the halls before you stepped out, the fresh air filling your lungs.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, leaning back to your car and reached out so that you could step into his embrace as he pushed your hair out of your face, “How did it go?”

“As expected,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips and he heaved a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said “Yeah I feel like…he’s gone. He’s gone, I’m here and I’m free and I know myself now. I finally woke up from that nightmare, for good.”

He smiled and brushed his lips against yours, “That’s a good start,” he commented, “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” you said and he tilted his head before he held up your keys.

“What do you say we drive away and never return here?”

You let out a small giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like that idea,” you said, “Let’s drive away and never return.”

Chapter 29 

[ray-ray-writings]

HELLO RAY! I have a sorta cute image prompt for you to possibly do? Idk it's cute to me so ima just day it, it's a Sam x Reader. Now they aren't together in it but actually get together in it, so basically we all know Sam has adopted Tommy at this point, but what if the Reader did the same thing *gasp*! Sort like a mother figure? But anyway, it's clear that Sam and the reader like each other but are awkward about it because reasons, so Tommy does as Tommy does and becomes WingmanInnit and attempts to get the two together, with out actually saying to either of them that's what he's doing. Thank you for doing this if you do💙💙💙 have a good day or night, make sure to eat/drink/take your meds, and have a good nap you deserve it!

HELLO FRIEND! I’m so sorry this took so long to write but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! This is a fem! reader because reader is referred to as “a mother figure” but you can honestly just pretend it’s “parental figure” and make it gender neutral! 

Honey Barbecue-Awesamedude

You first met Tommy while you were walking the Prime Path back to your home from a trip to gather a specific type of wood. You quite literally crashed into the boy because he was so beaten up and disoriented that he didn’t even notice you and ran right into you. Your hands immediately reach up and grab onto the younger boy’s upper arms to stabilize him. “Tommy?” His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s pretty out of it. “Okay kiddo, let’s get you to my house huh?” 

With a little bit of struggle, you manage to get Tommy into your home and into your bed. Once his head hits your pillows, he’s out cold. You carefully clean him up and patch up his wounds before setting a glass of water by his bed and leaving him in the room. 

Tommy doesn’t come out of the room until around sundown. He’s yawning, but he looks so confused but when his eyes meet yours, everything seems to come back to him. He gets this really sheepish look on his face and he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey… Sorry about earlier. Thanks for taking care of me.” 

You give him a bright smile and nod, “Of course, Tommy. There’s no need to be sorry. It’s something anyone would do. Now come sit down. Dinner is almost ready.” Tommy hesitates for only a moment before seeming to get a whiff of whatever it is you’re cooking and making his way to the table and seating himself. 

You force Tommy to stay the night at your house. It was getting really late and you didn’t want to run the risk of him getting into more trouble and hurting himself even further. He left once daybreak came, but that wouldn’t the last time he’d be spending the night at your house. 

After that day, you kind of became like a mother figure to Mr. Tommy. You were always there for him and he always had a place in your home. You were one of the only people that was always on Tommy’s side no matter what and was able to remember that he was a liter child that needed to be taken care of. There was only one other person in the entire SMP that looked after Tommy like you did… And Tommy believed that you two would make a perfect couple. 

You and Sam were the only ones that looked out for Tommy for no other reason than to look after him. You two had kind of become the young boy’s unofficial parents. Yes, Tommy had his own house, but most nights he could be found in either your’s or Sam’s house. 

You and Sam knew each other, of course you knew each other. You two interacted sometimes but most of your conversations were about Tommy. Even with your limited conversations, you both quickly caught feelings for each other. The mutual care over Tommy was something you bonded over as well as, Tommy definitely doesn’t stop talking about you. You both had fallen for each other through your shared love of the boy that you considered your son, but also his words that he spoke about the two of you. 

It would have been impossible not to fall in love with him. 

However, it almost would be more impossible to tell him that you were in love with him. 

And the same goes for him. Sam had feelings for you, but there was no way in hell he would ever tell you that. 

This doesn’t make your feelings for each other any less obvious to one Mr. Tommyinnit. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy isn’t stupid. He’s very smart and very observant and he could tell almost instantly that the two of you clicked and that you two had developed feelings for each other. But it was also very obvious that you two knew of your feelings, but refused to acknowledge them.

He was going to fix that. 

Sam had informed Tommy that he had made a nice steak dinner for supper that night and that he really would love it to have company over to share it with. Tommy saw this as the perfect opportunity to push you two together. Tommy told you that Sam had invited you two over for dinner that night and you believed him. So you dressed up in a cute outfit and at 10 minutes till, you and Tommy headed over to Sam’s place. 

Sam was very surprised to find you standing at his door with Tommy, but it was a very pleasant surprise and one that he welcomed. Sam moved out of the way of the doorway and allowed you inside. You turned back around to face him and Tommy and found an odd sight. Tommy was still standing outside, staring down at his communicator. “Everything alright Tommy?” You ask, a little concerned as to who he was messaging. 

Tommy’s head snaps up and meets your eyes, a small smirk forms on his face as he speaks. “Oh yeah. I’m fine… Tubbo not so much. I have to go help him. I don’t know how long it will take. Go ahead and eat without me.” 

Not realizing what he was doing, you jumped in, “Oh! Is he okay? Do we need to come help?” 

“No, no, no, no. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. You two being there will probably just embarrass him. Seriously, enjoy your time together,” Tommy tells the two of you before turning and running away. 

Sam knows what the child had just pulled, you not so much. Sam could only glare after the boy but once he turns around his eyes find your frame, they soften. “Should we follow him? I know he said it’s fine but I don’t want--” 

“Y/N. It’s Tommy and Tubbo. They’ll be fine. If not, they have their communicators. But if you want to leave, I would completely under--” “No! No. I want to be here… with you.” 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Sam cleared his throat and held out his hand to you. “Well in that case, may I?” You carefully reach your hand out and let him grab it. He gingerly leads you through his house and to his kitchen table where he carefully guides you to sit down in a chair before pushing you in. He walks over to the counter and picks up two plates that he prepared right before the knock on the door and sits one down in front of you before sitting himself down with the other one. 

“I hope everything tastes okay. I’m not the best chef but I wanted to do something nice for once,” Sam tells you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but your face. Even though he’s not looking at you, you offer him a sweet smile and a laugh. 

“I’m sure it will taste great Sam,” you assure the creeper hybrid as you pick up your fork and knife. Sam copies your motions and gives you a big smile and together you begin to dig into the meal. 

The food tastes great. Sam really undersold himself, and you were sure to let him know. You complimented his cooking over and over as you two dined and chatted. It was really cute to watch his freckles light up as a form of blush to coat his cheeks under your heavy praise. A lot of the time all he could manage to get out in response was a small “thank you.” 

The conversation flowed naturally between you two as you discovered you had a lot more in common than just caring for Tommy. You two talked about what you did for work and what you did for fun. Some of the conversation revolved around Tommy, but not a whole lot. You mostly used your experience with Tommy as a way to jump from on topic to another. 

You two continue to talk even after you’re done eating. You help Sam clean up, despite his protests, and you two take a seat on his couch and talk for a while more. You two snap out of your conversation when one of the redstone clocks he’d made chimes loudly letting the two of you know that it was now 10pm (2200). You’re both shocked about how late it had gotten, and although you wanted to keep talking, you knew you should probably get home. 

Sam, ever the gentleman, offers to walk you home, and you still wanting to be able to spend a little more time with him, you accept. Together, the two of you walk back to your house. Sam has his sword just in case but no mobs bother you. You two get to your front door sooner than you would have liked. The two of you stop and turn toward each other in front of your door. 

“Well… This is me,” you state after a few moments of silence. 

“This is you… I had a really nice time tonight Y/N… Would we be able to do this again sometime?” 

A wide smile spreads across your face as you nod a little frantically, “Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

There are a few more moments of silence before Sam takes a deep breath and then blurts out, “Can I kiss you?” 

You’re surprised at the question, but you find yourself giving him a small nod. Sam seems a little shocked at your answer, but his hand comes up and cups the side of your face and he ever so slowly leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You immediately melt into him, your hands finding their way onto his chest and slowly dragging up onto his shoulders and you pull him a little bit closer to you. His other hand finds itself on your waist, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. 

The kiss ends too soon for your taste, but you also know that if it didn’t end when it did, you’re not sure it would have ever ended. Sam gives you a soft smile after pulling away. He carefully removes his hands from your body, you doing the same. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” 

“Goodnight Sam.” 

You stand there, back pressed against your front door, watching after him until he was no longer in your eyesight. You let out a small dreamy sigh before turning around and letting yourself into your own house. 

You are immediately startled by the presence of a teenage boy sitting in your kitchen, gorging himself on what looks like some chicken wings. “What the heck are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Tubbo okay?” You ramble out as you rush further into the kitchen, placing yourself between beside him, your eyes scanning over his body, making sure that he’s okay. 

Tommy just rolls his eyes and laughs, “Tubbo’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just needed a place to eat my wings. Wings for a wingman. I’d say I’m a pretty successful wingman?”

It was then that it hit you. Tubbo never really needed help with anything. Tommy didn’t leave you two alone to help Tubbo. He had set you up. Tommy had forced you and Sam to be alone together because he knew that this would happen. That the two of you would fall deeper and in turn would admit that you had feelings for one another…. This sneaky, meddling kid. 

You wanted to be mad. You really did. But you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at the boy for giving you the opportunity to go out on a date with the man you had been crushing on for many weeks now. So instead of taking the time to scold him, you instead opted to playfully push Tommy’s head before snatching a wing from his plate. 

Tommy opened his mouth to complain but fell silent at the sight of your playful glare. “Now, I will be taking this honey barbeque wing and will be heading off to bed. Clean up after yourself and get to sleep soon. Goodnight kiddo.” Tommy gives you a small smile and a nod before wishing you goodnight as well. You turn on your heel and walk out of the room toward your bedroom. But right before you were about to exit, you stop and turn back around. 

“Hey Tommy?” You call, drawing his attention to you. You give him a soft smile before raising the wing you had taken from his plate. “Thank you for being our wingman.” And with that you turn on your heel once more and continue on your way to your room. Even though he’s a sneaky, meddling kid, you couldn’t help but be very thankful for the boy that had brought you and Sam close together… You’ll have to make sure he’s the best man at the wedding. 

[chilly-me-softly]

Can you write something angsty with Chilly and reader? Like you are really close friends with Mason and Reader and Chilly butt heads a lot but he ultimately ends up finding himself in love with her. As long as you want! Thank you <3

Not so angst but hope you like it anyway x

Your families have been neighbours for years, your friendship began practically even before you were born, and now you simply cannot imagine your life without each other in it. No matter your different life choices, you know that one will always be there for the other.

Mason often invites you to go out with him and his teammates, and many times you have joined the group, having a great time and especially enjoying the company of your best friend.

But there's one person in particular that makes you doubt Mason every time, a million times you've wondered how the guy can be friends with someone like Ben. Man he's just insufferable, everything you say he has to step in and have his say because heaven forbid the world should be deprived of Ben Chilwell's opinions. Plus the lad has moved to Chelsea so he's been everywhere for a whole season now and really how does Mason put up with him all day every day?

You're in Mason's company that night too, in two days you're going to have to go back to work and the season's about to start anyway so your friend has suggested one last night to have a proper good time before you limit yourselves due to commitments. And of course Ben is there. You've done everything you can to avoid him but if you want to be with Mason he's apparently included in the package so just pretend he's not there and that's it.

Mason is with Declan and some of his other mates and you take the opportunity to get away from the noise, thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good. You make your way through the crowd, bumping into two or three people, but you walk on your way wanting to get to the exit as quickly as possible.

There are stairs you have to go down to reach the car park and seriously who would trust drunk people and stairs, who came up with that idea? But now is not the time to think about it because as soon as you lower your head to look at the first step, it spins dangerously causing you to lean to the side for a moment.

"Oi" some arms immediately settle around your waist to steady you while one of your hands goes to grip the railing almost helplessly. "Are you okay?"

You try to see out of the corner of your eye if you know the person who ran to your aid but your head keeps spinning so you slowly turn your whole head finding yourself face to face with Ben.

"Yes, you can leave me now"

"Where were you going?" he ignores what you've told him trying to get you to take a step back away from the stairs.

"Car, I...I need to sit down for a second" you close your eyes for a moment but the fainting sensation you feel is worse.

"Woah woah (Y/N), what did you drink?" he asks worriedly, I mean he's had to rescue a few drunk friends over the years but no one was ever this bad.

"Nothing, but my head is killing me" you struggle to say, the headache seeming to intensify minute by minute now.

"You shouldn't have come here on your own, you could have warned Mason"

"Not now Ben" and he sighs.

"Come on let's get you away from here, I'll take you. Can you do it?" you start down the stairs slowly, him not letting go of you for a second and you trying your hardest not to quit.

"Come on one last step" he lets you know as you groan from a sharp pain stronger than the others and then you let him take your car keys to open it and see where it is. Luckily it's not that far away and in no time he can get you into the seat.

"You should lie down" he looks at you worriedly as you reach out to turn off the light that has come on, too bright to bother.

"I think I'm going to throw up"

"Okay" he shifts slightly to allow you room to bend over though hoping you don't, seeing the others throw up makes him cringe.

A few minutes pass but nothing changes and Ben starts to think about whether he should get you out of there and put you in a bed or something, somewhere more comfortable than the car anyway. So after making sure you're okay, he climbs into the driver's seat and starts the car.

"What are you doing?" you ask with your eyes closed, trying to stay as still as possible so you don't trigger any reaction in your body.

"I'm taking you home, there's no point in leaving you in the car park. It's obvious that your night is over here" a small sigh escapes your lips and he drives off. The hard part isn't getting to your house, he's driven Mason to your place a few times and he remembers where you live; the problem is getting you inside, you don't want to admit it but you're scared. Part of you wants to run to bed and be able to rest so you can put that feeling behind you, but there's another part of you that's frozen there on the spot and afraid to move because it could fall off at any moment.

"Listen, I'm here"

"Great" you murmur and in another situation he would have laughed, but even he is becoming more and more worried seeing even a few tears roll down your cheeks.

"Let's take off our shoes and go, one step at a time" he tells you actually taking off your shoes and starting to move your legs out of the car.

He doesn't know how but eventually he manages to get you inside, you point out where your room is and right in front of the door you are forced to change direction to rush to the bathroom. You only make it to the toilet in time before you start to vomit, Ben working up the courage and trying not to look comes to help you out as much as he can at that moment.

"Where do you keep your meds?" he asks you once you get into bed, a sigh has left your lips as you rest your head on the mattress covering only your forehead with a pillow.

"(Y/N)? You need to get something" he keeps insisting when he doesn't get an answer trying to lift the pillow slightly but decides to go find something himself in the bathroom hoping you won't hold it against him.

He brings the box of pills, placing it on the bedside table next to a bottle of water and gently sits down next to you, with that pillow on your face he can't see if you've fallen asleep or not and he doesn't want to disturb you sincerely if that's the case.

He sighs as he looks at you, a slight gasp lets him know you're still far from falling asleep and he tries to get you to take those pills. Ten minutes later you're slightly sitting up with his help as you swallow those pills down with some water and before you settle back down you try to smile at him.

"Thanks for being nice to me tonight Ben. Maybe call Mason before you go okay?" Ben nods helping you settle in and making sure the movement hasn't caused you any more discomfort, before turning off the light and walking out of the room to let you rest in silence.

A strange annoyance grows inside him, he helped you and at the first opportunity he gets the sack. He finds himself hoping that you had asked him to stay so as not to be alone, not to call someone else. He allows himself to think that maybe all the times he poked you had a reason, as if to get your attention. And he comes to check on you a few more times before deciding to do as you told him, you're finally resting quietly and his work there is done.

Part 2

[katieslotherford]

Radio Wade’s Wave FM Ch. 4 (David Santiago x gn!Reader)

Hey I am back. As an apology (and because I couldn't cut it making any sense) here's my final chapter. 2k words just for you and your lovely feedback. Also, tumblr has a 10 pic rule, so some banners are just lines in this chapter.

I'd love to hear your final thoughts on the series! Enjoy :)

Summary: You are an upcoming radio host who loses their phone in New York City’s rush hour. Your phone is found by David, but getting it back seems to be more difficult than expected. What follows are long phone calls, doubt and little tugs at your heartstrings.

Tags: Fluff, slightly abusive bf, SFW, gender neutral reader, suspense

Chapter One I Chapter Two I Chapter Three

Main Masterlist I Series

The next morning you wake up early, too early for your usual schedule, but you have plans. The bed side next too you is empty, but still warm. The noises from the bathroom tell you, why. Eric thoroughly thinks about his last nights adventures again. It has become a tradition of sorts. You usual put a glass of water and some meds on his bedside table. You must have forgot that last night, what a bummer.

At breakfast, his appetite is back. He even drinks your tea alongside his coffee.

You look at him, study him, midnight thoughts intruding again. What would happen if you broke up with him? The flat was an obvious problem, living in the City expensive. Your sharedcircle of friends has always been pretty small. Your friends usually stayed away from his and vice versa. You like his family, especially his mum, giving that up would be sad. Eric’s feelings come last to you mind, making you feel really sad.

You look at him, study him. You look at him and see no future with him.

“Let’s grab lunch later, okay?” you finally say, buying you little time to find words and make a plan. He agrees.

David has a regular day in the precinct, mostly working at his desk, overseeing his detective’s paperwork. He chats with his partner about family, asks the colleague with the date about their night. The clock chimes high noon when his temporary phone- your phone- rings, Station displayed.

“Good day, David!” you greet him cheerily, but he can hear stress seeping through your words.

“Hey, nice to hear you, Y/N!” he wonders about this call during the day.

“Uhm, about tonight at seven?” you start “I probably can’t make it, you see, I … don’t know if I can be there on time, but work is a bit stressful right now and I might need to stay to uh finish something. Could we rearrange to a later time? I know, I’m sorry, taking up your time like that, but maybe I could give you a call as soon as I see some light, we could meet up at a pub or bar or restaurant, whatever you like, my treat.” You stumble over every second word.

He knows he does not have to be a trained NYPD Lieutenant to know something was up with you and it probably is not work. He hopes you would come forward if anything illegal happened to you. He hopes you would not leave him hanging tonight so maybe you could confine in him. He hopes you are ok.

After a moment of silence, he agrees to a dinner at one of his favourite Cuban places. The never took reservations and he always gets a table there.

You hang up the phone and exhale. That was the easy part of the day, now you have to leave work for two hours, working late later to make up. Jon covers.

You reach yourbench at the Hudson. You have been waiting for 20 minutes by now, seeing Eric lazily make his way down the side walk to you.

Your inner turmoil is at an all time high. Remembering your talk with Jon just one hour ago, you felt confident in your decision but still very shaken. Breaking up has never been your doing. You think about all the aspects that led you to your decision and lay them out in front of him.

Eric… does not take it well. He screams. Seagulls flee the scene with a screech. He shouts and hollers. He pleads and cries. He invests more energy in this winless battle than he put into the last three months of your relationship. But none of it gets to you.

You listen, oh, yes. You watch him get it all out, answer his reasonable questions and ignore the ridiculous ones.

You apologise. He cries, grabs your arm, tries to remind you of the happy days. Your eyes get misty too. You have seen enough. You free yourself from his grasp and leave – for good. Getting your things from your flat to the empty guest room in Jon’s place can be arranged when Eric was not home. You leave.

David gets off of work fairly early. He wants to be ready for your date, which totally was not a date, just a friendly meeting between strangers who could become friends. Actually, it could be classified as a business dinner, he had your phone, that needed to be traded. Totally business. He is nervous, walks around Manhattan, somehow enters Central Park and finds Gapstow Bridge. Your phone rings.

“Y/N, hi,” gosh, he is nervous. He cannot wait meeting you, finally seeing you and have a real chat. He does not want to think about what you might think of him and his antics. He hopes you would at least stay for an aperitive, politely declining more if you really did not like him.

“Hey David,” you sound a little hoarse. But you called and that is what mattered. He leans on the railing of the bridge looking at calm water of the pond.

“The special place you mentioned earlier, where is…” the rest is lost. Someone bumped into him – hard. He is thinking about giving you directions, wanting to ask about the time, none of it matters, because his grip on your phone is too weak. He gets bumped, your phone gets dumped… again. Only this time it could only be found by some lucky fish in the pond. He is devastated… lost at words.

You are confused. You sit at your desk, alone. The station is empty. The music playing is a playlist Jon put together, interrupted by automatic jingles. You are done with the planning of your new show. For your first set you would be having an interview with a Jamaican artist talking about his community program for children in his neighbourhood. You are very much looking forward to that.

But now you do not know what to do. Calling David about where to meet in an hour ended abruptly. Your phone goes straight to voice mail when you try again. You cannot call the police for help, because you only know his first name, have no information about his precinct and no good description of what he could look like. You can go Central Park, wait at the original spot. But you have no guarantee he would do the same. You can go home and pack up your things. You can stay here and work a little longer. You have to decide.

_____________________________

David panics for two seconds and then reminds himself to stay calm. His first destination was an Apple store. He destroyed your phone, he would pay for a new one. The he checks his own phone for your work address. You were still at work when you called, maybe you stayed a little longer.

He has to hurry, apologise, give you the new phone. He runs.

_____________________________

You still have not decided on what to do. You were looking forward to tonight earlier. The days had been stressful but meeting David would have been balm for your soul. At least you had hoped. You had been eager to learn more about the smart and energetic Lieutenant. He seemed like a really nice guy.

Thinking about the late-night call you smile and switch off the desk lamp.

_____________________________

When David arrives at the fifth floor of your office building his lungs yearn for air. He looks through the milky glass of the door to the station and sees… nothing. It is all dark, not one soul left.

He puts his sweaty forehead against the door and rethinks his actions. What would he have said barging into the station all hot and breathless? Hi darling, it’s me, the stranger who found and lost your phone, the one who fell for you over one long and a couple of short phone calls. Wanna check out that Cuban restaurant I always dreamed of proposing to the love of my life at?

He lets out a humourless laugh. He could come back in the morning, be all business about your phone, explain his accident. But he feels the magicof the night and knows you would not have given up.

So, where could you be?

You did not go home. You are sitting on a bench right next to the Main Monument, Central Park. You know your chances are low. But you also know that David is a bright man. He might check this spot.

You readjust your scarf, feeling the night getting colder. People are passing by, most of them in pairs or groups. Some go for a jog. Suddenly, you see a man walking really fast towards the monument. He has a mission, he looks around. His energy changes when he spots you.

Listen, if a grown man almost ran towards you in the dark, you usually would get the hell out of the situation. BUT. Despite the loose description of his looks, you are pretty sure it is David.

Your David, who is now right in front of you, taking you in, breathing heavily. You reciprocate his look. His eyes and hair are dark. He is slightly taller than you, his style smart casual with a fair dress shirt and soft jumper, a dark jacket to keep himself warm. He wears jeans and brown leather shoes. You like those. He is older than you but not as old as you feared him to be.

“Good evening, Y/N,” he finally says.

“It is a good evening, David,” breathily you smile at him. You are still curious about his antics, but first you invite him to sit next to you. He does.

“Sorry, I’ve kept you so late here. I can imagine you’d rather cuddle up on a couch with that boyfriend of yours than sit in a cold park at night.” You can feel the nervousness radiating from him.

“I…” how do you tell a potential love interest, who is really just some very nice stranger that you broke up just hours before? “I’m quite happy to not be around him right now, I broke up with him… I guess cuddling is not a good option for us right now.” You try to lighten the mood.

It strikes a chord within David. You are not taken anymore, but had been yesterday. That explains your midday mood. You seem fine now, to him.

“Oh, I apologise. Cuddling does not seem to be the best option, indeed… at least not with him.” He really does not want to say the last part. It comes out under his breath, a slip of the tongue, he is nervous, okay? Thankfully, you laugh. He smiles back at you.

“I need to confess something…” he finally says with his usual strong voice, “in my uncontrollable clumsiness I lost your phone.” He looks down. He is ashamed, cannot meet your eyes. And what do you do? You laugh again, a good, heartfelt laugh this time. He chuckles along, still ashamed.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. He sees the kindness and no grudge whatsoever. You don’t even ask for replacement. The new phone is still hidden inside his jacket.

You stand up, he follows you. You look at him, smiling slightly and his heart picks up. You take a step towards him, your breath grazing his cheek.

“Would you consider,” you give him another cheeky smile,” despite your uncontrollable clumsiness, to have dinner with me?” He smells your perfume, drinks in the features of your face, utterly lost.

“Yes.” Is all he manages to get out, a soft smile on his lips, happiness in his eyes.

Describing the night as pleasant would have been an understatement. The silence and anticipation, the lingering glances and low chuckles had subsided and grown at the same time.

You are amazed about the variety of topics you find with David, especially happy to exchange your experience with foreign languages. He hands you the new phone, which you really do not want to take. But he gives you his best Lieutenant look and you shut up.

Additionally, you exchange numbers and names. This time, you two will not mess that up.

After hours, the owner wants to close his restaurant for the night. Despite your begs and pleas, David payed. You share an Uber with a stop at your place and for him to get home. He asks the driver to wait, escorts you to your door. Your cheeks hurt from smiling all night.

“I had a great night, David,” you whisper, “thank you.”

He beams right back you. The soft brown eyes only focussed on you. You know, he is a gentleman. You know, it might be too early, but you also feel like it might be the start of something good.

So, you take a leap of faith, take a step towards him, stand up on your toes and give him a peck. It is innocent and cute, but filled with promises. Taking a step back you look at him, his eyes are still closed, a tiny smile on his face.

It is a promise of something good.

Fin.

Thank you so much for reading all of it! Sorry again, for the weird lines instead of the regular ones. Tumblr is to blame... :)

I will be working on prompts fairly regularly and on new works about LMM roles and other characters. See my Masterlist for other writings.

Taglist: @beecastle

[omgrachwrites]

Too Different - Frank Castle

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Summary: When a familiar face stumbles into the lobby of your apartment building, you take it upon yourself to tend to him. Reigniting feelings you haven’t felt in a while.

Warnings: mentions of blood, fluff, ooc Frank (probably)

Words: 2329

Disclaimer: Frank will probably be occ and this gif doesn’t belong to me!

A/N: This is the sequel to Park Avenue Princess, but you can read this one on its own, I’m thinking of making a series of one shots about Frank! I just started watching The Punisher and I was thrown off by how nice Frank is to Sarah and Karen! This is set before the events of The Punisher! Hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! I love you all xxx

You heaved out a heavy sigh as you stepped out of the cab with a box of donuts in hand; another day of working a job that you hated was over. Fixing a smile on your face, you walked into the lobby of your apartment building that was always pleasant and bright. It smelled of sweet flowers and you smiled as you spotted the vase of white lilies on the front desk.

Henry, your kindly old doorman smiled at you warmly as you walked up to him and lifted the lid to the box of donuts, offering him one, “Miss Y/N, you spoil me,” he chuckled as he took a glazed donut for himself and a chocolate one for his wife, as usual, “how was your day?”

You shrugged as you grimaced, “the same as usual.”

Henry sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder, “don’t waste your time doing a job that you hate, kid.”

Before you could tell him that it was expected of you, a loud thudding sound against the floor startled you. With wide eyes you whirled around to see a man all dressed in black slumped against the golden marble floor. Without thinking twice, you ran up to the man, gasping when you noticed a thick patch of red in his side, blossoming by the second. He’d been shot and in serious need of help.

You looked at his face and realised with a jolt that it was the same man that had kindly helped you into a cab, on the night when you had practically run away from Matt. You never thought you’d see him again; you didn’t even want to see him again. You cupped his handsome face, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingers.

“Hey, you need help, let me call someone.”

With a groan, he opened his eyes and shook his head, “no, no hospital. I must be dead because you’re definitely an angel,” he laughed but seconds later, it turned into a wince, “I’ll be fine,” he tried to get up, groaning in pain as he lay back down on the floor.

An amused smile spread against your lips as he felt well enough to flirt with you, “well, if you don’t want a hospital then you have to at least let me help you, you’re losing a lot of blood,” without waiting for a reply you looked at Henry, “can you help me?”

Henry nodded, eyeing you warily as he helped you haul the stranger to the elevator, “are you sure about this, Y/N?”

You nodded, this stranger had helped you when you were upset, it was only a little thing but you had appreciated it. It seemed unwise but you wanted to help him.

A muscle clenched in Henry’s jaw, “he tries anything, then you call me. Promise me.”

You huffed out a laugh, “I promise, thank you, Henry,” you smiled as the doors closed and the elevator took you up to your penthouse.

You managed to drag the tall man into your apartment and laid him down on your brand new sofa, wincing as you realised that he was going to bleed all over it. You made sure that he wasn’t going to die from loss of blood before running into the kitchen to grab the supplies that you needed to remove a bullet and close the wound.

“You a doctor or somethin’, lady?” he hissed through his teeth as you gently lifted his shirt and poured the whiskey over his wound, trying to ignore the sight of his rock hard abs. You lifted an eyebrow as you pressed the lip of the bottle to his mouth. He gratefully gulped down the strong amber liquid, nodding at you in thanks.

“I used to be a med student,” you smiled sadly, watching his eyebrows knit together in confusion, “but don’t worry, I still remember how to successfully close a wound and get a bullet out,” you laughed but to your ears it sounded forced and hollow.

The man was silent as you tended to him but you could feel his dark eyes burning into you. When you glanced up, you were thrown off by how gentle and soft his eyes were, he was a man who liked like he could snap you like a twig but he regarded you with so much kindness that it almost brought you to tears.

“I remember you,” he whispered, “you were so upset, were you okay? Did anybody hurt you?”

You bit your lip as you dug into his wound with tweezers and managed to pull out the bullet after a few minutes of rooting round. He hardly even winced, “you’ve got a high pain threshold,” you smiled, changing the subject.

The handsome stranger laughed, it was a deep rich sound that made warmth spread throughout your body, “it’s not the first time that I’ve been shot.”

You paused your movements as fear ripped through your body like a white hot knife. What sort of man had you brought into your home? You should have judged him by the way he looked.

He must have seen the look on your face because he smiled, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, “I was a Marine, in Afghanistan. I promise that I’m not going to hurt you, miss…” he trailed off and raised an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Y/N, my name is, Y/N.”

“I’m Frank,” he gave you a cheeky grin that made you flush as you got to work on closing his wound.

It was quick work, Frank was silent and he didn’t complain but he turned down the aspirin that you offered him. You were strangely worried about him, though he was clearly a man that could take care of himself, “you should stay here, you’ll be safe. Whoever shot you will be looking for you. The sofa is comfier than the spare bed, I’ll get you some blankets,” you offered him a small smile.

Frank swallowed as he looked away from you, you could tell that he wanted to argue so you were surprised when he gave you a curt nod, “thank you, Y/N.”

You smiled at him as you stood up, “you’re welcome, Frank.”

You had a restless night of sleep but you were in a good mood when you woke up. Whether it was the beautiful weather that sparkled through your bedroom window or the handsome man that was sleeping in your living room, you weren’t quite sure. Your happiness popped like a bubble when you walked into your living room and saw that there was no sleeping man on your couch.

He’d folded up the blanket ever so neatly and when you padded over, you noticed that he’d left a note on top of the blanket. It only had two words, scrawled in messy handwriting, “thank you.”

You tried to ignore the bitter sting of disappointment as you went about your day but it was no use. That gorgeous injured ex-Marine would soon become a distant memory, perhaps it was for the best, you were obviously from two very different worlds. Your family would never approve. You tried to get on with your day and forget about him but it was easier said than done. Frank had made a big impact.

A couple of nights later, you were answering a couple of work emails and cooking your grandmother’s famous pasta dish, when there came a knock on your door. You frowned as you stared at it, normally your friends would call you to let you know that they were coming over. When you opened the door, your heart leapt in your chest as you saw who was standing on the other side.

Frank was holding a bouquet of daisies; he looked gorgeous dressed in a leather jacket and a white shirt that stretched taut across his muscles. His smile faltered ever so slightly as his eyes trailed down your body. You wondered if he was silently judging you for the designer labels you were wearing. You were happy to see him.

“Frank! What are you doing here?” at your question you could have sworn that he blushed and chuckled as he averted his eyes.

“I um, I wanted to properly thank you,” he gestured at the flowers, “I’m not even sure if you like daisies,” he bit his lip and held out the flowers, “I’m sorry that I left without saying anything, I didn’t want to outstay my welcome.”

You smiled and took the flowers from him, “they’re beautiful, Frank. Thank you, and you wouldn’t have outstayed your welcome,” Frank grinned before arranging his face into a stoic expression but it was still a look that made your heart flutter, “would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked without thinking, eager to spend more time with him and know him better, “I always make enough pasta for a small army.”

Frank opened his mouth and you were frightened that he was going to say no, “I shouldn’t,” he bit his lip as your heart dropped with disappointment, “I shouldn’t even have come here,” he swallowed and made to turn away before you stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the hard plane of muscle.

“I don’t mind that you came here, I like the company actually,” you laughed nervously and Frank’s face softened as he smiled at you.

“Sure, why not,” he shrugged, “I guess that I can stay for dinner,” he grinned and you ushered him into your apartment.

You busied yourself with putting the gorgeous flowers in water while Frank looked around your penthouse with interest. You wondered whether he felt out of place, “this is a real nice place you got here, Y/N,” he mumbled, “I didn’t realise while I was bleeding out on your sofa,” he chuckled as he looked out of the massive windows at the glittering city below.

“Thanks,” you smiled, “I love it here, whiskey or wine, Frank?”

Frank turned back to you with an eyebrow raised; he screwed up his face like it was the hardest decision in the world, “err, whiskey. Thanks, Y/N,” he grinned as he joined you in the kitchen, “would you like a hand with anything?”

You were struck by how nice this menacing looking man was and how safe you felt when you were with him, “I’ve got it, thank you anyway,” you smiled as you poured him his drink.

“This is so good,” Frank groaned, the deep sound of it made you clench your thighs together, as he looked at you with approval and shoved another forkful of pasta into his mouth, “it’s been a while since I’ve had a home cooked meal.”

You laughed as you took a delicate sip of your wine, “it was my grandmother’s recipe, she told me to guard it with my life,” you winked at him.

Frank lifted his gaze from his plate to smirk at you, “I’ll take it to my grave,” he chuckled as he placed a hand over his heart. He paused as he took a swallow of whiskey as he regarded you with his deep brown eyes, “are you a doctor, Y/N? You told me that you used to be a med student but you patched me up with expertise.”

You sighed as you shook your head, pushing your food around your plate, the memory still stung, “no, I’m not a doctor. I dropped out of med school a couple of years in.”

Frank furrowed his brow as he swirled around the whiskey in his glass, “why?”

You raised an eyebrow at him as your lips parted, your ex-boyfriend, Matt hadn’t even cared enough to ask. You were touched that a man who was little more than a stranger wanted to know, “my parents forced me to,” your voice wasn’t harsh but it had a sharp and final tone to it.

Frank nodded as a look of understanding washed over his face, “I get it, I’m sorry for asking. Though, I would have thought your parents would be proud of you.”

You laughed bitterly, you thought the same thing, “it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

Frank was a closed off man and you vaguely wondered what had made him that way. He mostly talked about his time in the Marines which you both bonded over, since your dad had once been a military man. In turn, you complained about your job, making sure not to tell him too much. You were worried that he would think that you were a spoiled brat.

It was a nice night, full of conversation; it was the best conversation that you’d had with an attractive man in a while.

Frank smiled at you as he stood in the doorway, “thank you for dinner, Y/N. You’re too kind,” he squeezed your elbow gently.

You bit your lip and watched his eyes follow the movement as you ran your tongue over it, you wanted to kiss him. But, you weren’t sure whether he was married or with anyone, he definitely hadn’t mentioned anyone. You decided that you couldn’t risk it; you’d be so embarrassed if he rejected you.

“It’s no problem at all, Frank. Will I see you again?” you tried not to make your voice too hopeful, you wanted to see him again.

He smirked as he raised an eyebrow and lifted a shoulder, “maybe,” he grinned and strode down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder at you.

When you were safely behind your closed door, you finally let out a breath that you didn’t realise that you’d been holding. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach and you smiled to yourself as you thought about Frank. It could never work out, you were just two different, and it would be a mistake. A wonderful mistake.

You walked over to your refrigerator to grab the bottle of wine and you saw a scrap of paper on the kitchen counter. It had Frank’s number on it.

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

@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​

[spadejin]

could i request sfw and nsfw headcanons for dabi and hawks with a non-binary s/o?

Warnings: NSFW Under the Cut, 18+. Mentions of Public Sex. Mentions of BDSM. Slight Dirty Talk. Mentions of Exhibitionism. Mentions of Praise Kink. Oral Mentions (Giving/Receiving).

A/N: You sure can, anon! Sorry for the late submission, it’s been kinda hectic on my side lately, I hope this makes up for it, <3!

Dabi

SFW

He’s not used to being affectionate through words, so he always uses his actions to show his love for you.

Dabi isn’t really romantic, either. Don’t expect much from him unless it’s a REALLY special occasion. He doesn���t really expect you to do much as his S/O either, he’s pretty low maintenance.

He calls you a lot of pet names: Baby, Babe, Cutie, Sweet Cheeks, Sweetheart, Toots, Peaches, Angel etc.

Actually, I doubt there’s a time that he ever calls you by your name unless it’s serious.

His quirk makes him hot all of the time, so he’s basically a personal heater for you, especially when you’re outside in the winter. He’ll roll his eyes and call you clingy, but he won’t really stop you.

Dabi’s favorite place for you to sit is in his lap, no matter where you both are. In public (the rare times you both are out), around the league, or alone, he wants you in his lap with his arms around your waist.

Because of his affiliation, he tries not to be out in public too much, and that’s something you’re going to have to understand. More than likely, you’ll be aware of his position in the league, so you both usually settle for at home dates.

If you both do end up going out in public, then it’s at night.

His kisses are a bit rough, and usually unexpected. Sometimes he catches you off guard and he just yanks you back by your arm and slams his lips onto yours. You almost always get a smack delivered to your ass when he’s finished.

Dabi’s a tease. In the streets, and in the sheets, there’s no getting around that.

He’ll always say something to get you flustered, and he almost never has any shame about it.

The league is around? Who cares, he’s still getting you all worked up.

Dabi will randomly come down the hallway and corner you, getting really close to your ear to whisper something completely underwhelming for his actions.

“You’re lookin’ pretty sweet there, peaches.”

Walks away like nothing happened, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face whenever you flush at his actions.

Dabi rarely “argues,” just for the simple fact that he really doesn’t give a fuck. If you want to address him about something, then do it calmly. Otherwise, he’ll just stop listening.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a temper though. If you push his buttons enough, he’ll probably raise his voice at you a little bit if he’s stressed out.

Arguing with Dabi isn’t fun. He’s so blunt that it hurts. To add more salt in the wound, he’ll just leave after you both have said your pieces, giving you both time to reflect upon what you said. Sometimes he’ll stay gone only for a few hours. If it’s REALLY bad, he’ll stay gone for about a week or two.

However, arguments ALWAYS lead up to a “fun night.”

NSFW

Remember how I said Dabi was a tease? Yeah.

He’ll tease the hell out of you before you both even get in the bed. When you’re around Dabi, you have absolutely no choice but to get horny.

If his aura doesn’t get you going, then he will.

He’ll use his fingers to caress your body “innocently,” even though you both know that’s not his intention.

When you’re sitting on his lap, there’s a 90% chance that he’s going to start kissing you neck, and this man isn’t an amateur. Dabi knows exactly where to put his lips to make you feel good.

You’d better get up and bring him someplace private if he doesn’t pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, because he WILL start touching you in front of everyone else.

He loves leaving marks and hickeys up and down your body. You belong to him, and he wants whoever that sees these marks to know that. He refuses to let you cover them up if it isn’t necessary.

He prefers receiving oral other than giving.

Go down on him and expect your hair to be pulled at and tugged whenever you do something to please him. Don’t be surprised if he starts to thrust into your mouth, making you gag on his cock.

As stated before, he knows how to put his mouth to good use. Though he isn’t a frequent giver of oral, you’ll remember that his mouth is heavenly when he uses it on the area in between your legs.

Dabi’s pace depends on his mood, honestly.

He’s usually rough and fast when he’s impatient. If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll let you take control, but don’t get too cocky, because he doesn’t take well to teasing.

He’ll indulge you if you like dirty talking. His mouth has no filter, and the words that formulate on his tongue are sinful!

He’ll be on board with almost any kinks you have.

Degradation? You got it. Restraints? Definitely. Orgasm Denial? Fuck yeah. Overstimulation? Yep. Public Sex? Good luck getting him off you.

Dick piercings. The most prominent one he has is a Jacob’s ladder.

He wakes up horny in the middle of the night often, so be prepared to deal with that.

His favorite place to cum is probably in your mouth or on your back.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

SFW

In contrast to Dabi, Hawks is pretty romantic, ngl.

Though he might be busy with hero work a lot, he always makes time for you. He’ll go out of his way to see you during his off times.

He basically knows your schedule.

You’re on a lunch break? Nine times out of ten he’ll drop by and pick you up to take you out to your favorite café or restaurant.

Sometimes in the morning he’ll bring you coffee or tea if that’s what you like. Maybe one of your favorite snacks.

He’s known for meeting you after work just to make sure you get home safely.

Sends you frequent texts to check up on you. He’ll remind you to eat, take meds, drink plenty of water, and all that jazz.

He’s also a frequent pet name user. Some are general, some are kind of biased. Babe, Love, Darling, Honey, Sweets; Baby bird, Songbird (Yagami Yato, anyone?), My Little Feather, Chickadee, Hatchling, etc.

I can see him calling you “Kid” pretty often if you’re younger than he is.

Hope you’re not afraid of heights, because he likes flying around with you in his arms. However, if you are scared of heights, then he’ll leave you on ground. He wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack.

Hawks is pretty clingy. He loves being around you. He’ll pull you in his lap, lay his head on your lap, sling an arm around your waist/shoulder, etc. He has no idea what personal space is.

He’s also always kissing you. Expect about a thousand kisses a day from him. He’ll kiss your cheeks, your jaw, your forehead, your nose… Everywhere!

Whenever you both are walking together, he’s always holding your hand, tugging you behind him or letting you drag him around.

He pays you a lot of causal compliments.

“Babe, you’re dressed up all nice. Are you trying to impress me or something, kid?”

He’s always thinking about you, and he lets you know that.

He has a fairly good memory when it comes to you. If you tell him something once, he’ll more than likely remember it for next time. This comes in handy whenever he gives you gifts.

If you both are on a date together and you mention that you like something in a store, it’ll probably appear on your nightstand within a few hours/days.

Not many things ruffle his feathers (literally), so he probably won’t get into a serious argument with you. He’ll probably just call you silly for being upset. Honestly, there’s probably not much you can get mad at him for anyways. I can only think of him being way too playful.

Hawks may be calm and laid back, but you’re probably one of the few people that can make him excited. His wings probably flutter when he’s excited too. Big baby.

NSFW

Hawks is a switch. A HARD switch.

Sometimes he’ll want to dominate the hell out of you and trap you under him while you squirm with anticipation. His expression is either very serious, or hella playful.

If he’s feeling playful, he’ll tease you.

“What’s that look on your face baby bird? You’re squirming around like you want more.”

If he’s being serious, good luck dealing with him. He’s only ever serious when he gets jealous, which is NOT often.

“You’ve been a naughty one today, babe. I’ll show you who you belong to.”

His voice doesn’t help his dirty talk. His tone is just naturally teasing and smooth, so when he starts talking like THAT, you can’t help but to get all excited.

Though he’s a bratty bottom, he usually turns out to be a whiny submissive. He’ll act like whatever you do doesn’t faze him in the beginning, but he’ll eventually break and start begging.

His wings are sensitive. If you caress them out of nowhere, he immediately melts and moans, submitting easily to your touch. He’ll flinch, trembling under your fingers and his wings will flutter away whenever you stroke them.

Hawks also has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving Tell him how good he looks pleasing you, or while you’re pleasing him, tell him how good he sounds and that the facial expressions he makes turn you on.

He prefers giving oral as opposed to receiving it, but he’ll never turn down some good head.

He likes hearing the sounds you make for him as he’s using his mouth and tongue on you.

Hawks is also a big fan of quickies. Sometimes he needs some quick satisfaction in the middle of a busy day, so if he gets his hands on you, you might as well just let it happen or you’ll be in for it that night.

He likes to release inside of you. Inside of your hole, or inside of your mouth, it’s just whatever he feels like doing at that moment.

When Hawks is feeling particularly loving, he’ll be slow and caring. He’s very sensual, and it’s been a long time since he’s done something sexual with someone he actually loves. He pulls you close and looks into your eyes as he slides his cock in and out of you.

He probably has a thing for dry humping/grinding. He likes the feeling of cumming in his pants because of you.

He’s really good at phone sex, so you should be cautious whenever you answer calls from him. He’ll just come out of nowhere with it, and get you all desperate to see him later.

In addition to this, he likes sexting too, and he will usually start off with sending you a picture of himself. Perhaps it’ll be a picture of him fully clothed with his bulge clearly visible, straining against his pants. OR he’ll send you a straight up nude, cock dripping precum and everything.

[dontshootmespence]

Teetering on the Edge

Summary: You and Dean are meant for each other, but in his line of work, he deems your relationship too dangerous for the long haul, pushing you away, leaving you both worse for the wear.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: Cursing, nausea, vomiting, fever, seizures.

A/N: This will fulfill my ‘pining sickness’ square for @spnabobingo​, soulmate au (same mark on each other’s skin that reaches for its counterpart when there’s distance between you) for @spnfluffbingo (sorry I never seem to be able to do strict fluff with supernatural characters XD) and ‘I’d rather be in danger with you than safe without you’ for @spnquotebingo​.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You screamed, racing down the stairs after him. There was no way he was going to walk away and pretend this wasn’t happening. Not anymore. “Don’t fucking walk away from me!”

Dean rounded on so fast it scared you. “Y/N, I am toxic!” He bellowed, stopping Sam in his tracks behind you. “Every, single, time I get involved with someone, they die! Monsters, hunters, angels, demons, shitty fucking humans! It doesn’t matter. They will use you to get to me!”

“So what?” You stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer, snapping the cap off through sheer anger before taking a long sip. Even alcohol wasn’t helping your rattling nerves. “When you love someone, you do things you wouldn’t normally do! Did I expect this life? No way, but I’m in it now and I’m in love with you, you fucking moron!”

He hesitated slightly, your words undoubtedly getting to him despite himself. “Well, I don’t feel the same way.”

Sam glared at him disbelievingly, not saying a word. Dean elbowed you out of the way of the refrigerator and grabbed another beer, downing nearly half of it before continuing. “I care about you. And I care about you enough to turn you away from me and this life.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare pull that neanderthal bullshit with me, Alpha!” You yelled your throat hoarse. Sam dipped out of the area and back toward his bedroom. It didn’t matter. Whether he was here or not, you’d be seething. “You don’t get to decide my life for me! Have you ever thought that maybe I’d rather be in danger with you than safe without you?” He readied himself to respond but you pushed against his shoulder with a force that startled even you. “Did you ever stop to think that I’ve waited my entire life to find the person I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with? And that now that I found him, I’ll be damned if I let him go?”

You were on a roll. Dean wanted to speak, but you wouldn’t let him. “No! You didn’t fucking think about what I want! Because your number one priority is to make sure you don’t have anymore blood on your hands. Well, guess what. You don’t get to do that. Not with me! When you care, you get blood on your hands. That’s just the way it is. I get to make my own damn decisions!” It all just exploded out of you. You kept screaming and crying and drinking to the point where you weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore. As you kept going, your arguments shifted from his demeanor to your own health. “You claimed me,” you said, pulling your sleeve aside to shove the mark in his face. “You know what’ll happen to me without you? I could fucking die!” 

Dean waited for you to stop ranting, steadily finishing his beer. Once you were all yelled out, he chose his words wisely. “There’s medication. You’ll be fine. You’re not going to change my mind,” he said flatly, trying to keep any sense of emotion out of his voice, even though you could tell he was right on the edge of acknowledging every amazing and shit feeling he was feeling in this moment. “I need you to get out of the bunker as soon as possible. For your own good.”

Without thinking, you reeled back and slapped him, open palm to cheek, relishing in the sound of the crack that reverberated throughout the bunker. “Fuck you, Alpha! Fuck. You.”

You kept his gaze as you dipped down to grab your bag. If he was going to pull this bullshit, he was going to look into your broken gaze and suffer while he did it. You weren’t going to be the only one to feel like jumping off the edge of a cliff. Fuck him. 

As you climbed the stairs, you glanced down at your hand and glimpsed the ring he’d given you. Boiling with anger, you ripped it off your finger and threw it at him, turning to leave before he could see the tears rolling down your cheeks.

----

You knew the possibilities. It could be as little as a fever and nausea that plagued you. Or it could go to the other end of the spectrum and kill you. With tear-stained cheeks, and no care for who saw you in this state, you headed out the night after your fight with Dean and meet with a doctor at an urgent clinic that specialized in working with omegas. After he checked your vital signs, he leaned against the wall. You felt no threat from him. He was an unassuming beta, which is why you tended to come here. “What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if I might be able to get some medication to combat pining sickness?” You swiped the silently falling tears and snot from your face with the back of your sleeve. 

“You’re mated?”

“Yes, but my Alpha is a pig-headed, son-of-a-bitch in a dangerous line of work that thinks he’s doing me favors by staying away from me.”

“He knows how dangerous pining sickness can be, right?”

Nodding, you stared down at the mark on your hand, cursing its movement as another tear slipped down your cheek. “Yea, but he said there’s medication and he’s adamant that he’s too dangerous for me to be around.”

“He should’ve thought about that before mating with you,” the beta said angrily. When he met your gaze, his own softened. “I can give you something. I hope he comes to his senses, but if he doesn’t I can write up refills for as long as you need, okay?”

A strained smile was all you could muster as you took the prescription from him and bid him a good day, thanking him again for his time and understanding. Less than an hour later, your prescription was filled. One pill a day. Down the hatch.

----

Shakily, you took another pill. Five days since Dean had shoved you out of his life. It started with shakes and a fever, despite the pill. If you didn’t have the pill you might be dead already. 

Pain racked your body, tensed every muscle so badly you could do almost nothing but sleep. Pulling the covers back up over your head, you attempted to shut your eyes against the pain. Bile burnt at the back of your throat. You barely made it to the sink before the little food you’d been able to eat the last few days found its way back up and out. 

Wiping the remnants away, you fell back against the wall and slipped to the cold, hard tile. It took all the strength you had to reach into your pocket and call Sam. Dean wouldn’t pick up, but Sam might. And maybe he could convince Dean to pull his head out of his ass. 

“Hello? Y/N?” Sam asked, his voice growing more concerned when you didn’t answer him. “Y/N, are you there?”

You replied, your voice barely above a whisper, despite trying. “Sam, I’m not well. Dean won’t pick up. I’m shaking. I have a crazy fever, even though I’m on meds. I can’t sleep and it’s only getting worse. Every day. I feel like my insides are boiling. Please, talk to him.”

“You’re on medication?”

“Since the day after I walked out. It’s not helping. Without it, I’d be dead already. Please, Sam. Try. Or I’m not gonna make it.”

Sam’s reply got caught in his throat. “I’ll get him to pull his head out of his ass, I promise.”

A laugh escaped you, but it hurt. “It’s really far up there, Sam.”

“I know.”

----

Every movement felt like climbing a mountain. And every waking moment was a fight to keep living. You started having seizures and could barely keep any food down. Water was all you could stomach.

Another three days past before you heard from Sam again. “He’s immovable, Y/N. Is the medication helping at all?”

“No,” you sobbed, though no tears slid down onto your pillow. “I’m having seizures. I’m burning up. I’m trying to stay on my side so that I don’t choke if I have a seizure, but I’m- I’m not gonna make it. I need you to tell Dean that despite everything...I loved him.”

Hanging up, you tossed the phone across the room with the strength you could muster and teared up again at the sight of the mark on your hand. It had always reminded you of an oak tree, but now the leaves looked like tendrils, crawling across your skin in search of its counterpart. You ran your opposite thumb across the mark and fell asleep, not knowing whether you’d wake up the next morning.

----

Dim light shined into your eyes the following morning, practically blinding you. Your muscles were stiff, barely limber enough to prop yourself up in bed without searing pain, but you managed, taking another pill even though it probably wasn’t doing anything.

Taking a trip to the bathroom was a monumental affair, but on the way you grabbed your phone again. You were so tired. You weren’t going to make it another day. Teetering on the edge of an abyss.

Once again on the bed, you called Dean this time, not surprised when it went to voicemail. “Hey, Alpha. I just...I needed to call you one last time. My temperature’s 105. I can barely move my muscles. I’m having seizures. I won’t make it another day. I know I asked Sam to tell you, but I needed you to hear it from me. Despite everything, despite your bull-headedness and completely dumbassery...I love you. I knew when we first met, even before I saw the mark on your hand, that you were my soulmate. And even though I’m not going to make it, the years we spent together were the best of my life.”

The phone slipped from your grasp after you hung up, thudding against the sheets. Through the gossamer curtains, you marveled at the sun, remembered what it looked like the day you met Dean, before drifting off to sleep.

----

A strong grasp shook you awake.

“Alpha?”

“’Mega, ‘M here.”

When you opened your eyes, you saw his soft greens gazing back at you, filmed by tears as deep as the ocean. “Am I dead?”

“No,” he sobbed. “Mega, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I was a fuckin idiot. Stay with me.”

His hands slid up the dry, cracked skin on your arms and up your face. His touch was warm - home. “Fucking idiot would be an understatement.”

Something between a laugh and a sob left his lips. “I know. Baby, ‘Mega, open your eyes.” His thumb traveled back and forth over your cheek, coaxing your eyes to open. “That’s it. Just...stay with me, okay?”

He spoke to you as he stripped himself of his clothes and you of yours, crawling into bed behind you. When his skin melted into yours, you felt a modicum of relief. Something that gave you the slightest bit of hope. “Don’t leave me,” you whispered. 

His hand grasped yours, the mark on his hand melding with yours. “Never again.”

[moodys-art]

Hello! May I ask for Bucci gang hcs with a sick s/o? Have a nice day💕

Hi, I did my best but forgive me if it’s not very original ! I think I’ve already seen this kind of hcs in some tags, so I hope it’s not too similar.

I got a little bit lost in the end, so I didn’t write Trish (ran out a bit of energy) but I will write a Trish x Reader thing in some time.

Under the cut for length :)

Headcanons for Bucci Gang dealing with a sick s/o

Bruno Bucciarati

His darling, sick ? No way ! Bruno always told you to cover up when you went out, especially this month, when the air was becoming so sharp and cold you swore it could almost get you cuts from just breathing.

When you get home from a mission, shivering like never, the first thing Bruno will do is to run you a bath. You will have no say in it. If Bruno wants you to relax, you will relax. No stress allowed, no flu allowed in this house ! After putting on comfy pajamas and leaving the bathroom, you will smell a delicious scent. Bruno made you dinner. It was healthy food, obviously, because now was not the time to mess around and get even sicker. You won’t have to worry, Bruno's got you. Before going to bed, he’ll kiss you on the forehead and tell you that everything is going to be okay.

Leone Abbacchio

You realised you were sick when you got up from your bed in the middle of one night, bothered by a very bitter taste lingering in your mouth. You did not wait and ran straight to the toilet, giving back your dinner from last evening.

As Abbacchio is a light sleeper, he will come and check and you. When he’ll see you throwing up, he’ll just pull your hair up so you won’t have to make it all dirty. At the moment you’ll turn back towards him, he’ll already be grabbing a washcloth and pass it under water.

« Hey, y/n. Chin up. Tch. You still ate that weird expired tomato sauce yesterday, huh ? » He’ll wash your mouth and put the washcloth over the sink, and that’s when you’ll start to tear up. His eyes will shine with sharp concern and he’ll immediatly attract you against him, shushing you softly. As you tell him, with a shaking voice, that you hate throwing up, he will squeeze you tighter.

« Shh, it’s over. I’ll throw the tomato sauce. Hell, I will smash it into the nearest trashcan I find. »

Giorno Giovanna

« Oh, cara, you should have called me ! », he says when he gets back home from work and sees you shivering on the couch. You’re all bundled up in a comfy plaid and covers, and that makes Giorno swoon internally.

However, when he’ll put a hand on your forehead, you’ll see the worry on his face. « You’re burning up, y/n. Why don’t you get rid of the plaid ? ». You’ll tell him that you feel way too chilly everytime you try to get rid of your fluffy cocoon. Well, you should know that Giorno is having none of your crap. He understands what you’re going through, but fever is a tricky thing. It will make you feel like you’re shivering from cold when it’s actually your body fighting some virus or bacteria, and heating up way too much. He will convince you to get rid of your covers, and place a damp cloth on your shoulders and forehead. Giorno will call the doctor and comfort you until you’re back on track again.

Guido Mista

It happened overnight. You fell asleep on your bed, your hair still wet from your shower, water soaking your sheets. The window was wide open, and you were so tired from the last mission that the cold air didn’t even wake you up. When you opened your eyes the next morning though, you had the worst headache you ever had in your life. It was hurting so much that you almost couldn’t move without wincing.

« Mistaaa ! Y/n is dying ! », will cry Number 5 when the Pistols discover you.

« What ? Don’t say things like that, Number 5. My love is safe ! » 

However, when he discovers you, lying motionless on the bed, not making a single sound, his heart will just jump out of his chest. You looked devoid of all life. When he’ll take a look at your face, relief will soothe his heart : you were in pain, but alive. Ow, he will ruffle through the whole bathroom to find you those precious headaches meds ! After calling the doctor, he will get you a hot drink and lend you his favourite sweater. Snuggles ensue.

Pannacotta Fugo

« Hey, I noticed you were coughing a lot lately. Is everything okay ? » When you’ll him you got sick, Fugo will immediatly head out to the drugstore to buy you some meds. He will awkwardly (but gently) pat your back when fits of cough happen. It’s late noon and you’re out of bed ? Oh, no. Fugo’s there to remember you that you need to take some breaks throughout the day : being sick is already exhausting for your body. If you’re feeling a bit upset as well, he will sit next to you and start to give your scalp a little attention. He’s surpinsingly good at that, and you will fall asleep in no time.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia doesn’t like to see you in pain. He relates to you greatly, as being sick is one of the thing he hates the most. He doesn’t have good memories when it comes to sickness, and he knows what it’s like to feel like crap, more than the others.

He will whine to the team about how unwell you are and how it exhausts you so, so much. Eventually, the others will get tired of his whining. Narancia is not a baby, and if you are sick and need assistance, he’s completely able to help you, the others tell him. Narancia will bring you food and water, anything you need. He might even buy you some kind of plushee because he thinks it will comfort you greatly. If you ever sneeze really loud, he’ll get startled. But afterwards, you two will laugh about it.

[detectiveinchicago]

Please, don’t go

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Blake Gallo x reader

Requested by: @tomanyfandoms04​

Warnings: Medical Stuff might not be accurate.

Word Count: 1.806

GIF IS NOT MINE. 

Being in a relationship with a firefighter was being willed to have your heart on edge all the time. Every time he went out on a shift Blake knew that you had gotten used to letting it be because you were sure that if you thought about it every day you were going to freak out. You had been dating for over 10 years; you had met in high school after Blake had lost his family in a fire when he was twelve. Blake spent most of his time at the fire station or training. He knew in his heart that he was destined to be a firefighter and you supported him; you were always there for him. When you started studying finance, he was also there for you during the long study nights. You were always happy for each other’s achievements; it was their nature.

Less than a year ago I had entered a new station “It’s my dream job baby” he had told you. The problem is that he was too intrepid and impulsive for his own good, but despite your reservations, he had been doing very well. You remember how proud you were of him when he ran that race to raise awareness about lung cancer in the fire department.

You had talked about getting married, of course, but it never seemed like the right time. Blake, however, was trying to find that moment for many months. He was sure he loved you and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, so why wait? Even though Blake had been looking for the right time for months, it never seemed to be and the ring was still in his pants pocket, either you were both exhausted when you came home from work or you were at Molly’s or you had something to do. It always seemed like there was something more important to do.

“Have you seen this?” A coworker had asked you while pointing to the television where there were images of a fire in a mattress factory that firefighters were trying to put out. You hoped that Blake was not there, but unfortunately you knew that was not the case. The fire was so big that they had called all the units, so most likely he was there. At least she hoped he was at least being careful.

It was after seven when you arrived to the apartment you two shared. You left the keys on the front table next to your coat and your wallet when your cell phone rang.

“And it is?” you said, rubbing your eyes. You needed a shower.

“(Y / N)? This is Chief Boden I work with Blake Gallo” a raspy voice spoke to him on the other end of the phone. Was Blake hurt? It wasn’t the first time he’d hurt himself at work, that’s for sure.

“I know who you are” You answered. You had to ask “Is Blake okay?”

“We don’t know” Chief Boden replied across the line with a sigh “We are in Chicago Med waiting for news”

“I’ll be there” you answered before cutting off the communication and taking your things again.

You could feel your heart leaking out of your chest. You weren't sure you wanted to experience that pain again. Never had Blake’s superiors answered “We don’t know” whenever they called her it was “He’ll recover in two weeks” or “He needs to rest and stay home.” Then you would just take leave from your work to accompany him, Did you know how anxious he got when he had to stay home?

When I arrived at Chicago Med, the uncertainty did not improve. Nobody had news about Blake’s condition. And everything got worse when a doctor came out to talk to Otis’s girlfriend, one of Blake’s companions, and she cried. You needed no more negative thoughts, so while everyone was mourning the death of one of them you quietly slipped away. You sat by the hospital door and started looking around. The place seemed grim.

“Is it going to be okay, you know?” You turned to look and saw Captain Casey, you had seen him before in Molly.

“Why do you say that? You just lost one of yours,” you answered acidly, not wanting to be so daring “I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologize, I know it’s not the best time,” he replied leaning a hand on your shoulder “You just have to have faith”

“Sometimes faith is not enough” You responded by getting up and shaking your clothes “Blake and I have been together for over 10 years, I know what kind of relationship I have but I can’t help but get nervous” Captain Casey looked at you with a smile of sympathy as you reentered inside. Otis’s girlfriend kept crying and you couldn’t stop the bad thoughts from coming back.

“Blake Gallo’s family?” asked one doctor entering the waiting room

“That would be us” you replied to the doctor and Captain Casey smiled at you. You knew that this was how fire stations worked, they had each other backs inside and outside work.

“Blake lost a significant amount of blood, he had the explosion from the front and we are monitoring his organs and vital signs, he has several burns on his torso and back, his lungs have also been severely damaged so we are monitoring to see how he evolves. I’m sorry, I wish I could give you better news” The doctor explained to you.

“At least he’s not dead” you thought, but then you realized that that was not a great consolation

“Do you want to see him? You can take turns one at a time” He asked and you nodded. The doctor directed you to the ICU and showed Gallo’s door before heading to the nurse’s unit.

He looked so calm, so peaceful. It just looked like he had gone to sleep, but you knew it was the effect of the drugs. He had bandages around his chest and he was intubated, but he was still your Blake. The one who always made you smile, the one who was always by your side when you were sad, the one who massaged you when you were tired and the one who cradled you until you fell asleep at night. Even though his body looked like it had been in a war and his face looked unpolluted, you assumed it was because she had been wearing his helmet and protective mask. You sat on the empty chair and took his hand; you weren’t sure she could feel it, but still; you stayed there; you took advantage of all the time you had before letting your friends pass.

“Please Blake, don’t leave me, we still didn’t have enough time together, I need to have more time to love you and to feel your love, I need you, please don’t leave me now”

Three days after Blake was in the hospital, one nurse gave you the few belongings he had in his uniform before the explosion. Of course, he had his cell phone and his watch, but he also had a small box. So as she sat in the chair next to Blake’s bed you opened the bag, he had some missed calls from you on his cell phone and when you opened the box; you found yourself with an engagement ring. You took him in his hands and you cried; you cried because you expected him to wake up so you could get married. You wondered how long he had been keeping that ring.

“Blake, open your eyes, I want to marry you. Please don’t leave me now, I want us to get married and invite all our friends, I want to have that special day with you, I want you to tell me again how much you love me, for please don’t go “

You spent every day in the hospital and when you weren’t there; you were bathing and then sitting again next to Blake’s bed or in the waiting room. That was your routine for the last week. Sometimes you brought your laptop to do some work tasks to distract yourself. His colleagues from the station had stopped by to see him several times.

“Do you ever stop working?” God, you thought you’d never hear that voice again. His voice was scratchy, but it was his voice. You raised your eyes from the computer and started crying. You hadn’t cried in all those days but at that moment it felt perfect to have a little sentimentality “Don’t cry” Blake told you as you approached him.

“I’m crying because you’re alive” You replied “And because I love you so much” you added while he grabbed your head.

“How long was I asleep?” I ask while you wipe your tears.

“About a week” you informed him while you brought him a glass of water

“That’s been a long time” he replied, drinking some water, “I thought I was going to die, (Y / N)”

“You need not explain to me” you said, taking his hand between yours

“I thought I was going to die without seeing your beautiful face again,” he said caressing your cheek “I thought I was going to die without telling you how much I love you, how much I need you and how much I want to make you my wife” you approached him and gave him a little kiss on the lips

“You wanted to ask me to marry you and you had no better idea than to go around carrying this ring in your pocket?” you asked with a small smile on his confused face “The nurse gave me your things a few days ago, I don’t know how you didn’t lose that ring” you said

“I’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for months” Blake replied scratching his head embarrassed “I bought the ring at Christmas”

“Christmas? Blake, it’s May” you said raising your eyebrows

“It never seemed like the right time” he defended “We were always busy”

“Blake, I would have told you yes even if you had proposed to me in the shower” you informed him “I want to marry you, I want you to have a great wedding with all our friends, I want everything with you, I love you Blake”

“I want everything with you (Y / N) since we were teenagers I knew that the only thing I wanted was to see your face every morning and be by your side”

[bestintheparsec]

The Same Coin - Part 1

Prologue | Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: Thank y’all so much for the nice comments on this new series! This picks up shortly after the prologue. I had to hold back a lot for this chapter because pining is not allowed yet - patience😌 I hope you enjoy, and as always feedback is welcome!❤️

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: some mentions of violence, angst (but not the Yearning kind yet)

You’ve just finished getting ready to start the day when you hear three loud knocks at your door. Hurriedly buttoning up your blouse, you go answer it and find Steve standing outside with his hands on his hips.

“Peña’s out of the hospital and back home now,” he informs you.

You briefly remember the scene from a couple days ago. He’d been fine, of course, just bleeding out and unable to stand. A local helped you call an ambulance while you got Peña upright and put pressure to the wound. Much like he always did, he spent a bit of time swearing under his breath when he claimed you were making too much of a fuss over it. You had to drive the Jeep back, so he went off to the hospital on his own once the paramedics arrived. You made sure he was going to be okay before you left him, and Steve went to visit him so you assumed he was recovering.

“Okay,” you comment. This couldn’t wait? “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be off work and on crutches for a few weeks,” he answers. He looks down at the floor before looking back up at you.

“What is it?” you ask suspiciously.

“They...put us in charge of watching over him until he’s back at work. Mostly you.” He mutters the last part, and you raise your brows.

“What? Why me?” you ask, confused.

“You’re the one who lives next door to him,” Steve answers, matter-of-factly. He and Connie live a couple floors above you, so logistically he’s right. But that doesn’t mean you want to be his personal nurse.

“Yeah, but—” you start to say, a little louder.

“It’ll be fine,” he insists, patting you on the shoulder. “You just need to check in every now and then and make sure he’s getting some food and water in him.”

Steve grabs your hand and slips a key into it. “I’ll come by too, but you’ll be able to hear if he falls or something at night, right?”

At that, you can’t help but chuckle dryly. Yeah, you can hear plenty, alright.

~

After work, you drive back home and feel the tension leave your muscles once you step into the apartment complex. Work was uneventful, without any new leads or intel. Mostly it was just you and Steve poring over mindless paperwork. As expected, you’d gotten quite the scolding from the colonel and Messina today. This was nothing new; not with Peña for a partner. But it was the first time he’d gotten himself hurt in one of his schemes, which didn’t look good on either of your parts. You didn’t feel like hashing it out with them, so you took your warning and left, opting to chide Peña on it on your own time.

Steve had gone out with Connie after leaving today, so it’s on you to check on Peña first. The heels on your shoes clack as you make your way down the dim hallway to his door. He should still be fresh off the IV painkillers from the hospital, so he probably won’t be awake to answer. You pull out the key Steve gave you and unlock it, the cool air greeting you as you enter his flat.

It’s not your first time in his apartment. You and Steve have often had late nights here, working on some new lead after hours. Only a lamp's faded light is on, but you hear rustling inside.

“Peña,” you call out. You find him in the kitchen, trying to heat something up in the microwave while leaning on his crutches. His hair is tousled and messy, and he's in a t-shirt and loose pants—a surprising sight and a stark contrast from his usual attire. He greets you with only a glance. You almost ask how he’s feeling but the cold gesture makes you decide against doing so.

You hold up the paper bag in your hand. “Steve picked up your painkillers,” you tell him, putting it on the counter.

“No need to knock before you enter,” he remarks sarcastically, pulling his food out of the microwave.

You roll your eyes, figuring he’d be in a bad mood. “You’re supposed to be in bed. Doctor’s orders. And you’re welcome,” you counter. How does he manage to be insufferable even when fully medicated?

“You really always go by-the-book, don’t you?” he clips, the sound of his crutches clanking on the tile as he walks over to you. Jesus, Javier thinks to himself. He already has to deal with you at work, and now he has to deal with this in his own home, too?

“The hole in your leg says otherwise, although I wouldn’t say that’s my fault,” you answer tersely.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Messina seems to have made you and Murphy my punishment,” he grumbles.

You purse your lips. “Believe me, this thrills me, too, Peña. But I can’t have you collapsing on me anymore,” you say, which catches his eye. “I’ll get in trouble again,” you add, and he smirks at that.

“Ever the caring partner,” he huffs, though he’s mildly amused. He looks you up and down for the first time since you came in. He notices how you’re playing with the fabric of your shirt; another habit you have, typically when frustrated. Javier hates that he knows this, attributing it to how much all three of you are around each other. You see each other around the clock, so it’s impossible not to pick up on the little things. For a moment he ponders what you might have picked up about him—not that what you think of him matters.

You ignore the sarcasm in his voice, eyeing the box of bandages and bottles of antiseptic on the counter. In all honesty, you’re not sure how well he’s dressing his own wounds; he probably gives them a quick swipe and calls it a day. “Do you...need help changing your bandages? I know how to clean them—”

“No,” he cuts you off.

“Okay, well if you need me to get anything—”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts again. “So unless you want to help me shower…” he says, sneering at the face you make.

“Yeah, I’m not sure even Steve will help you with that,” you wave a hand dismissively.

“Anyways, these meds should knock you out for a while,” you continue, changing the topic. “Which means I can get some quiet on the other side of your wall, for once.” You're only partially joking, but Javier doesn’t miss the mild embarrassment in your eyes. He chuckles without humor, but doesn’t respond.

A moment passes before you speak again and readjust the bag on your shoulder. “Get some rest, Peña,” you instruct. With that, you head back out the door as he watches you leave.

He sighs deeply, running a free hand through his hair. Why can't Murphy be the one who lives next door?

~

You continue to alternate check-ins with Steve daily, always trying to come during evenings, when Peña’s more likely to be awake. The visits are brief and somewhat civil, although they usually involve you nagging him about one thing or another and getting snippy comments in response. Really, you know he’s a grown man and all, but even when injured he’s not terribly careful.

It’s not his fault his place is getting messier—he’s not fully mobile—but his flat is usually decently tidy, most likely for his “guests”. Now the place is covered in half-empty glasses and bottles of liquor, along with random things strewn haphazardly on the floor. You’ve told him often that the papers spilling across the floor are a safety hazard for him, but he brushes you off every time.

“You’re not on the job right now, you don’t need to be an asshole,” you tell him.

“You’re not at the office now either, lighten up a little,” he rebuffs.

Javier swears that if he hears you remind him to drink more water or be more careful one more time, he’s going to lose it. He tells you as much, but you’re never able to get through to each other. It’s always been like this as partners; of course it’s no different when you’re off the clock.

You seem to be under the impression that he’s impulsive; maybe he is, and maybe he’s not proud of everything he’s ever done. But Escobar plays the game according to his own rules—playing it safe only puts more people in harm’s way. Sooner or later you might understand, but until then he’s not going to wait around worrying until you do.

~

One night, you’re met with the sight of him, shirtless, sitting on the couch. He’s smoking a cigarette and barely looks up as you enter and walk towards him.

“Steve and Connie went grocery shopping and wanted me to bring you some stuff,” you tell him as you unload the plastic bags you’re carrying. “Looks like you’ve got some snacks and instant dinners to hold you over.”

“Thanks,” Peña answers, and you're almost taken aback by the tiny bit of politeness.

He picks up the prescription bottle on the coffee table and uncaps it, shaking a pill out onto his hand before picking up his glass.

You look across the room at him and frown. “Are you taking your meds with alcohol?” you ask, probably louder than necessary.

You walk over and forcibly remove the glass in his hand, replacing it with the water bottle from your bag. He looks up at you, annoyed at your snatching of his drink. “Jesus, Peña, don’t you know anything? Are you trying to get yourself back into the hospital?”

He responds by muttering something under his breath before throwing the pill back and downing it with the water.

“You know, me and Steve would have to come over a lot less if you took better care of yourself.”

“I don’t need you mother-henning me in the first place,” he retorts. “It’s a fucking leg wound, not something that’s gonna kill me.”

“That’s exactly what I thought, too,” you snap back. “Unfortunately for both of us, our bosses think otherwise.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for this,” he tells you, shaking his head. God, you’re infuriating.

“No? Neither did I,” you quip. “Fuck, Peña, do you not—I'm just trying to help.”

He exhales and puts the cigarette to his lips again, leaning back against the couch. You dig around in your bag for a granola bar and shove it in his direction.

“Do yourself a favor and eat something, or those meds aren’t going to sit right.” He groans but takes it, and you turn on your heels to leave.

Except, Javier never misses anything; especially not the way the thin fabric of your sleeve slides up on your skin as you hand it to him, revealing a sliver of something white on your arm.

He abruptly grabs your wrist, gently but it still takes you by surprise. “Wait,” he mutters in a low voice, stopping you mid-step. He turns your arm over, not making eye contact as he pushes the loose fabric of your sweater upwards, revealing the large white bandages that are covering the back of your arm, near your elbow. He can’t see the damage underneath, but his mouth presses into a hard line.

You bite the inside of your cheek as he examines it for a few seconds before you pull your arm away from his hand.

“I thought you and Murphy haven’t been in the field recently,” he whispers, his tone suddenly much softer than it was moments earlier.

“We haven’t,” you reply quietly. You know he’s not going to drop it by the way he’s looking at you. “It’s...from the broken glass. When the sicarios shot at us in the car,” you shrug.

“Just because I was in a hospital, you didn’t think to mention you were injured?” he sounds offended, but there’s a different feeling cutting through the air, one that you can’t place your finger on.

It really isn’t a big deal, just a few superficial gashes that will heal easily—you’ve had much worse, working in the field. You hadn’t even meant to hide it, but the bandages aren’t a pretty sight and your work attire often consists of three-quarter sleeve blouses, or your favorite cardigan.

“Peña, it’s literally a few scratches. Hardly newsworthy,” you answer, though your own voice is calm now, too.

He has an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him simply, and you mean it. “And I’m not the one who got a bullet put into my leg,” you continue, offering the smallest of smiles.

Javier glances at the ground before looking back up at you, but you’ve already turned to leave.

Hunting Escobar meant you were all in life-or-death situations regularly, one way or another. But for an unknown reason he suddenly feels a bit heavier, and he doesn’t like it.

~

The radio’s playing as Javier sits on the floor, tossing away some bottles of liquor that are crowding his coffee table. Christ, your nagging was starting to get to him. He wishes the stations would play something besides the latest news on Escobar. If there’s anything he hates about not being able to work, it’s that he has too much free time when he’s home alone. That, and the fact that Escobar and his sicarios are still out there, and there’s currently not a damn thing he can do about it.

He’s been on crutches for a few weeks, and is now used to your coming and going. He watches as you drop some more groceries off in the kitchen, but notices you’re quieter than usual tonight. It’s not a proper check-in from you unless you’ve reprimanded him about not taking his meds, or skipping meals, or something else. Not that he’s complaining about a break from the incessant nagging, but his attention is drawn to the more pronounced lines that have appeared under your eyes lately. It doesn’t take long for him to drop his gaze, but he knows there must’ve been things happening at work that you haven’t mentioned. Or it might have just been one of those nights; he knows those too well. He definitely knows better than to ask about it.

“Wait,” he calls as you leave, and you take your hand off the doorknob before turning to him.

“Any new leads?” he asks. You almost have this look of pity for him in your eyes, which he hates.

You shake your head. “Messina’s running some intel by the ambassador tomorrow. If all goes well, we’ll be back to business soon.”

He nods. “Thanks,” he says curtly.

Your lips press together into a tense smile before opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you.

Javier rubs the back of his neck, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment. He exhales quietly; there’s nothing except the sounds of the radio show and the ticking clock on the wall. What annoys him most of all is how dangerous it is when he has this much time to think.

~

It’s the weekend, so you make plans to get breakfast at your favorite spot around the corner. The few people you know prefer to sleep in on Saturdays, so you’re on your own. It’s early, but your stomach still grumbles with hunger. This makes you think of what Steve said about making sure Peña kept himself fed—you know very well that on many nights, whiskey is the only thing anyone is able to keep down. For a second you hope he hasn’t been drowning his boredom with alcohol anymore—not that it’s your problem.

At any rate, it’s probably too early to check on him, so you head out and plan to do it later.

~

Javier wakes up after an unrestful sleep, still groggy, and shuffles into the kitchen to find something to eat. He walks over to the cupboard to find a bowl, propping himself up on one leg. How much longer with these damn crutches? he grumbles to himself.

He takes the crutches out from under his arms, resting them against the wall and limping over to the sink. Pain sears up his leg and he hisses, but he hates needing the physical support—or any other support, for that matter. He’s about to fill a pot with water when he sees a package on the counter, wrapped in tin foil.

He grabs it, realizing it’s a large, warm plate of food with a note on top. Dinner. Eat, cabrón, it says in your scribbled handwriting.

For the first time since the incident, his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. You really are infuriating, he thinks. But somehow, it’s almost endearing.

~

It’s raining outside tonight, a light shower but it seems relentless. You hop over a puddle of water as you step into your complex and close your umbrella. It’s Steve’s turn to check on Peña, so you can go straight to your flat, much to your relief.

Your clothes are wet, so the cold air conditioning gives you goosebumps as you open the door. Turning on a single light in the foyer, you pry your wet shoes off, followed by the damp cardigan you have on. You’re not dry yet, but you almost feel a little better. Tonight calls for a hot shower, but you don’t have the energy for it, so you make your way to the bedroom.

You don’t bother turning on the lights as you strip yourself of the day’s burdens and change into something cleaner and lighter. If only your mind worked that way, too. As you crawl into bed, you feel as though you could just sink right in and disappear. The soft covers don’t do much to comfort you, and you’re not quite ready to lie down yet so you sit with your back against the headrest, rubbing your eyes from exhaustion. The rain continues to fall outside your window.

Images from today fill your mind. It was another day in the field, one you were supposed to spend tracking down a low-tier sicario. Instead, you found a bloody crime scene Escobar decided to leave behind to prove a point. You had no doubt Steve was at a bar now, doing what he could to drown out the sight.

It’s not something you’ll ever get used to. Despite yourself, you think of more mundane things—your many meals eaten alone, the quiet drives home with only your mind keeping you company. Somehow, it makes things easier for you this way. You don’t want to imagine the possibilities otherwise.  It’s for the best, you tell yourself on nights like this—but repeating it doesn’t make it any easier to believe.

When your head finally hits the pillow and you pull the blanket up to your chin, you can’t help but allow yourself to wonder what it would be like if you didn’t have to face all of this on your own. It’s a common thing for you; empty thoughts in a dark and empty room, before fatigue finally overpowers your conscience.

On the other side of your thin bedroom walls, Javier lights another cigarette, deciding whether he wants to turn up the volume on the TV or turn it off entirely.

He’d already heard what happened from Steve. No, he wasn’t at the scene. But he should’ve been, instead of being stuck at home and helpless. When he’s out in the field, he likes to think he’s able to stomach it all better, running on pure adrenaline. He runs his hand along his jaw, willing the anger and tension to leave him. He wasn’t even part of this mission, nor did he make any of the calls, but somehow he knows it’s going to be another long night. He’s had worse days where he can’t take it anymore, finding comfort only in the arms of some woman he doesn’t know. Even then, it’s more of a distraction than anything else.

The guilt never leaves him—it’s a weight he deserves to carry. Every decision he makes affects something, or someone else. Whether he’s ever made a good choice, he’s not sure. But when he looks at the bandages covering the wound in his leg, tracing the edges with his finger, he knows he’s tired of dragging other people down with him.

 ~

Translations:

Cabrón = asshole

~

Series tags: @mytinybaguette​ @mrpascals​ @dindjarindiaries​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @pascalesque​ @lady-sigyn​ @bel-13  @positivelife3000​ @larakasser @buckstaposition​ @watsonwise​ @irishleesh93 @gigilame​ @lostingoogletranslate @yabby-girl​ 

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[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 9/?

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Y/N- Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

I am sorry. lmao.

Half of my links are glitched tf out fuck this shit, touched grass yesterday but that grind don’t fuckin stop babey

Warnings: Angst - Injury, Description of said injury, Mentions of Jason’s past, Swearing, Dark Themes, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason clutched his right side as he gasped for a long breath of the cold, rainy air surrounding him. Everything hurt and he could barely move enough to text Dick that he was down. He would hold and add pressure to the stab wound sitting directly on his waist, but he could feel the blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he held it. His hands were covered by the blood and he was losing it fast.

He wasn’t going to walk this off by any means, he was going to need Dick to go get him and bring him back to the hospital wing of the Batcave because he couldn’t move and he felt his eyes drooping as he waiting and tried to keep his breathing in check, while Dick was scrambling to go get him.

There would be a few questions he would have to answer to Y/N. Not even just Y/N, to Lian, his Goddaughter, who he was planning on seeing in the morning since Y/N was going to a dance competition, or at least he thought she was.

But in that moment, so many memories flew back into his head, the hopelessness as he sat there for a few seconds, bleeding out after the explosion that Joker had set off on him. And then the minutes in the Lazarus Pit as he drowned himself back to life, the water filling his lungs as he cried and screamed. But no one came.

This time, however, Dick came.

Dick swooped his baby brother up and onto his back and he tried to run to the Batmobile as fast as he could, knowing time was of the essence for saving Jason’s life. Jason had broke off from Dick for a few seconds before this moment, and it was the only thing Dick was worried about. That Dick had said to come back to him, alive.

In the car, Dick put his hands on Jason's gaping wound, trying to press his hands into it as well to slow the bleeding, the Batmobile had the ability to drive itself, and Dick thanked whatever God was watching that it did. Jason was struggling for breath at this moment, and Dick was terrified.

“You’re going to be oaky, Jase. I swear. Please. Don’t die on me, it feels like yesterday that I got you back,” he leaned into Jason’s face, “Not again, please,” Dick begged and begged as he rushed Jason to Alfred, who was waiting to operate on Jason.

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

Y/N woke up as always, this time, without a text from Jason. She thought nothing of it, thinking he was safe in his house with his loving family. She went to go get coffee to kick start her day, and A/N wasn’t in the kitchen. She, still, thought nothing of it, since A/N’s lover was over the night before and she had to turn up her music to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the house. She sent Jason a quick text,

Good morning, Jay. I hope you slept well.

And she returned to her room, coffee in hand, to write some quick little stories about  what she had placed in her journal. Not many of the ideas in there were able to be built off of, but she still tried her best with every idea she had, to see if it could be something more.

It normally never was, but it was always something she craved. The ideas of writing a book always enticed her, but she never thought she was talented enough to do so.

She heard her roommate’s door open and then the front door as A/N waved off her lover. It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Y/N loved that as she dove further and further into her work, immersing herself in the story of two lovers who were destined to meet after one moved to the hometown of the other to pursue criminal psychology.

She couldn’t get her mind off of Jason. They hadn’t even known each other for a week but she knew he was worth her time. A few hours passed by from when she sent the first text.

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

Dick held Jason’s hand as he was hooked up to many different machines, he could breathe on his own, but the IV and the blood bags were hard to keep Dick’s eyes off of. If only I had been watching a little closer, he thought.

Jason fumbled in his pain-induced sleep, moaning and groaning as he did so when he opened his eyes to find a worried, sleep-deprived and very rough-looking Dick at his bedside, to which, Dick collapsed on Jason in a hug.

“Thank God,” Dick breathed.

“What... what the fuck.... what the fuck happened?” Jason stuttered, like a blanket of sleep and drugs had limited his mobility and brain function.

“I don’t know, Jase. That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me, but then again, your blood alcohol level was suspicious.”

“I... I didn’t drink... drink that much.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did drink, who was with you?”

“I don’t... know.”

“I think you were roofied so they could get the upper hand on you. You almost died, Jase.”

“Come...c’mere,” Jason managed to say, and when Dick came to him, he moved on of his hands onto Dick’s cheek, “Big... big annoying... big little annoying brother.”

“Shhhhhh, little wing,” Dick comforted his little brother, “You weren’t supposed to grow that much taller than me,” he laughed, “Dickhead,” he laughed again, then sighed, and stepped back from Jason to pace back and forth, he was stressed, “I told Roy-”

“Will.”

“Will, sorry. I told Will that you won’t be able to see Lian today, he asked what happened, he might drop by.”

“He should... shouldn’t have to... see me this... this way,” Jason said, eyes pooling with tears, “No one... should.”

“Don’t know how we’re going to explain this to your little girlfriend.”

“Oh... Man... I like... I like her.”

“I know you do, and that’s an issue when you’re high as a kite in a hospital bed, bleeding out, Jase,” Dick tried to explain, “Especially when she doesn’t know you’re Red Hood, dumbass.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I know, Jase. If it was me and Barbara didn’t know, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he sighed, “Haven’t even met this girl,” he laughed.

“It’s... it’s only been... 5 days,” he stuttered.

“and 3 back-to-back, multiple hour, spanning days, worth of dates. You don’t do that with someone you don’t think should meet your family.”

“You’re... stubborn.”

“And you’re my brother. It doesn’t take blood to exhibit the same traits.”

“The meds... are... are wearing off.”

“Do you need more?”

“Not... yet,” he struggled with his words, “Phone?”

“I mean, yeah I can give you your phone,” Dick said as he went to go unplug and hand Jason his phone, realizing that Y/N had texted Jason he said, “Guess you have someone who wants to know where you are more than Will does.”

“Will cares,” Jason said as he took the phone and read Y/N’s text,

I guess it isn’t morning anymore, huh.

Well that’s on me for texting you at 6 in the morning after I know you’ve been working late.

And I’m going to see my Goddaughter today, so I’ve been sleeping in to preserve energy for her.

Can’t forget that she’s what, 1 year old? Girl must have a lot of energy.

Her name’s Lian, and yeah. She’s a ball of energy.

He said as Lian and her dad, Will, formerly known as Roy, walked into the hospital wing of the Batcave. The secret wasn’t hidden to the little girl yet because she couldn’t remember a lot. But, she sure did recognize her Uncle Jay when she screamed her name.

Will brought his daughter up and put her beside her Uncle, and she cuddled into him, he would hold her back.

“Hey... Will.”

“You look like shit, Jaybird.”

“I feel... feel like shit.”

“You’re also talking slow, bud.”

“Drugs... do that... Will.”

“At least you’re not dead, I have no idea how I’d cope or even explain that to Lian.”

“She... she has your... eyes.”

“She’s growing into my nose too.”

“Your nose... looks like shit... on your face.”

“Okay, dickhead. You’re bedridden but yeah, attack me like you used to, I’ll just pull the plug.”

“Lian... would hate you... you for that,” he groaned as he said it.

“Do you need more drugs? I can tell Dick,” Will asked.

“Yeah... I think-”

“Don’t worry about finishing that, Jaybird. I got you.”

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

The wet ground surrounding the house Y/N lived in was a representation of what she considered, the bad things, washing away from her life as she got to know Jason more. She wished they could talk more that day, but she did not want to take away time from him and his Goddaughter. Family matters a lot to Y/N, so a thought like that just seemed selfish for her to think when she knew that little girl needed him.

She didn’t think he got injured or anything from the Office, it was a safer place than the fuckin Wayne Manor hallways. She texted Artemis,

So, you’re Wally’s girlfriend, and Wally is Dick’s best friend? Am I hearing you right?

That’s basically the intertwine we have here, yes.

So once you’re in this family, you’re IN, huh?

Nervous?

Not a chance.

The thrill of flipping off pap hasn’t left you yet?

Does everyone know about that? And yes, it’s still massively fun to do.

Wally says Dick is the only one who doesn’t think its that funny.

Lame.

C’mon now, that’s my best friend, but yeah, that’s pretty fucking lame.

You’re the fun best friend, then. You see the fun in making a fool of the pap.

You know it.

Artemis knew of what happened on patrol between Jason and his unknown attacker. Dick had told Artemis to distract Y/N from wondering why Jason seemed drunk, if he seemed drunk. The extents they went to to hide the fact that they were the vigilantes protecting the city, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep the secret.

Jason would talk to her after that message,

That storm last night was terrible.

I wish that we were together when it happened. I hate lightning.

Well, you were in Cali.

Did I not tell you? My competition was cancelled because the entire country is fucked with weather.

Oh. That sucks.

Do you want to spend the night here?

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

Do you want to spend the night here?

Jason stared at that text for a while. He did, he wanted to spend the night with her, but he was in pain, hooked to machines, with obvious wounds and bandages. He couldn’t spend the night with her.

I can’t. I’m in Metropolis with Will and Lian. Can we reschedule?

Of course we can. As long as you make sure we actually get to spend the night together.

He asked Dick in that moment, “How... how long... long til I heal?”

“Depends. You’ll be okay-ish in 5 days, but in 7-10 we have to take out your stitches if you’ve been taking care of them,” he said.

“That... that long? Damn.”

[impala-dreamer]

Ecstasy

SPN FanFic

~Sam's major headache leads to a major oops on Dean's part and some major fun for Sam.~

Sam x Reader, Dean

3,969 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Accidental Drug Use. Smut. Hair Pulling. Stoned!Sex

A/N: This will stand as my Free Square for @spnkinkbingo​ 2020. I'm doing "Hair Pulling Kink" bc Sam totally likes to have his hair pulled. ;) Hope you all enjoy!

2020 KinkBingo Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

Sam pressed his forehead deeper into the ledge of his knuckles, hoping the pressure would distract his ears from the beeping and ease the headache pounding behind his eyes.

It did not.

“Shit.” Dean was across the way, kicked back in his chair, ankles cross on the tabletop, phone in hand. In between alternating whispered curses and victory cheers, his phone was making the most irritating bleeping noises. “Yeah, baby!”

A devastated and annoyed sigh filled the air and Sam let his hand fall to the table with a thud. “What are you doing?” he snapped, eyes wide, head shaking at Dean.

Green eyes popped up innocently. “Playing Tetris, what are you doing?”

Sam tossed his hands up and sat back. “I’m trying to work! Why is it so loud?”

“I don’t know, Tetris is loud.” Dean shrugged and hiss disappointedly as he put a cube in the wrong spot. “You’re distracting me, shut up.”

“I’m distracting you- I- what!”

A melodic whistle from the next room caught their ears and both boys looked up to see Y/N dancing about, shaking her ass as she cleaned up last night’s messy dinner. Headphones snug in her ears, she whistled along to the music as she picked up empty beer bottles and a few scattered napkins.

Dean leaned over the table to get a better view, humming in approval at the curves on display. “Nice.”

“Dean!” Sam scolded in a low voice, quickly looking away and back to his book.

“What? She’s got a nice-”

“Just stop it.”

Dean laughed and licked his chapped lips as he settled back in place. “I know you like her, it’s cool, man. She’s all yours.”

Sam’s spine straightened in defense even as a blush filled his cheeks. “She’s not- mine. What? I don’t-”

“Sammy,” Dean grinned, dropping his chin as his eyebrows rose knowingly. “You can’t hide this stuff from me. I see all.”

Sam cleared his throat and tried to end the conversation, ducking his gaze back to his text. “You don’t see anything. There’s nothing to see.”

“Lucky for you,” Dean went on, ignoring him, “she likes you too.”

“H-how do you know?” Sam refused to look up, but lifted his eyes slightly.

Dean sighed happily and puckered his lips. “Because she turned me down.”

That lifted Sam’s entire frame. “What!”

“I know, shocking, right? I mean…” Dean waved a hand down the length of himself Vanna White style. “How could she say no? But she did.”

“When?”

“Few months ago. We were working that case in Ossining- remember? And… we got a little buzzed and I made a move and…”

“Wow.”

“I know. It was a pretty good move.”

“No, not- I just- wow.”

Dean laughed and dropped his feet so he could lean over the table and lower his voice. “Look, she likes you. You like her. It’s cool.”

The tip of Sam’s tongue snuck out to hang on his lower lip as he looked a little to the left, contemplating Dean’s confession. “Huh.”

“Yup.” Satisfied that his point was made, Dean sat back and started the game again, bleeping away without a thought.

Sam soon turned back to his research, trying to forget what Dean had said about Y/N. If it was meant to be, it would be; there was no use dwelling on it, especially when there was work to be done.

Very time consuming, tedious work that involved translating handwritten Romanian from a faded text while listening to Dean's Tetris antics.

Thoughts of Y/N were soon drowned out by a sharp pounding in his left temple, and Sam gave up, throwing his pencil down like a gavel and leaning back. He clutched his skull and groaned.

“Dude, go take something,” Dean suggested after slipping a bar into place and clearing three lines at once.

Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. You want anything?”

“Nah. Awe, damnit! Freaking cube again!”

The farther from Dean he walked, the calmer Sam felt, but his head was still pulsing.

The kitchen was practically bare and no meds were to be found. Sam growled lowly as he shuffled back to the library and paused in the archway.

“There's an empty bottle of Excedrin in the pantry,” he said cooly.

Dean looked up from his phone with a lingering smile. “OK. Did you take some?”

“Empty. Bottle.” Sam enunciated each letter and Dean's smile fell.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Dean closed one eye as he thought up both an excuse and solution at once. “Uh, I think there's some Tylenol in my room.”

Sam grit his teeth and nodded curtly. “Thanks.”

A handful of little white pills later, Sam was back in his seat, head in hand, waiting for relief to find him. He cradled his head in his hands, fingers splayed across his forehead, eyes glazing over the words set before him. It was slow going.

“Hey, bros,” Y/N greeted, taking the seat next to Sam as she set down three beers on the table. “Whatcha doin’?”

Dean happily reached for a beer. “Beating my high score.”

Sam sighed. “Working. Or trying to.” He looked up to find Y/N watching him intently and it made his heart race. “What’re y-you up to?” He could feel his cheeks flush and Y/N smiled.

“Oh, big day for me,” she said, sitting back with a beer. “I cleaned the bathroom- gross by the way,” she said, casting an eye at Dean. “You know you can rinse out the sink after you shave. It’s not hard.”

Dean waved a dismissive hand and failed to flip a Z piece in time. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” She sighed and turned back to Sam who’s eyes had never left her face. “Then I did two loads of laundry,” she continued, ticking her chore list off on one hand. “Found my lost Blues Traveler tee- under the bed,” she added in a whisper, cupping her hand to her cheek as if it were a secret, “and just finished reorganizing 6A. Did you know we have jars full of random animal bones? Because...ew.”

Sam managed a daze laugh, but found it hard to look away from her perfect lips as they frowned in disgust. “Yeah. Bones.”

“So whatcha working on?” Y/N smiled and leaned over to look at his book, and Sam’s breath nearly stopped.

His eyes zoomed in on the delicate lines on her lips, the hint of teeth just between as she spoke, the way she bit the tip of her tongue just slightly when she smiled. His mouth was watering, his pulse pounding, so focused on her mouth as she came closer.

“Sam?”

Y/N laughed at his awkward stare and he nearly jumped out of his skin, startled back into himself.

“Yeah. Yes. Working.” He swallowed hard and shivered, prying his eyes from Y/N to the book. “Um… It’s-er- lore. From the- Romania on things.”

“OK…” Y/N shook her head at his ramblings and sat back, lifting the beer bottle to her lips. She puckered her mouth and took a delicate sip as her head tipped back, and Sam made a noise that turned all their heads, even his own.

“Dude,” Dean gasped across the table at the audible moan that pushed up from the back of Sam’s throat, and Sam quickly coughed, hoping to cover his mishap.

Y/N politely ignored the noise, turning her face away as an embarrassingly pleased smile tickled her lips. She took another drink, slower this time, and Sam could not stop himself.

His pupils went wide as he watched the muscles in her throat contract, as he saw her mouth move around the thick bottle neck. He groaned again and shifted in his seat, his pants growing tighter with unsolicited lust.

Dean sat forward and slapped a hand on the table to get Sam’s attention. “You OK, man?”

Sam startled and twisted in his chair, rubbing his damp palms over his thighs to dry them. “What? Yes. What? Why?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed in concern. “You’re all… shaky.”

Y/N, too, was watching Sam carefully. “And you’re sweating.” She put the beer down and leaned over, gently placing her wrist on Sam’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

Her touch felt like lightning, his entire body sparking with the feeling of her skin upon his. His heart skipped too many beats and when it came back, it was frantic and loud, banging against his ribs. He closed his eyes, wishing it all away, but Y/N’s sweet voice tickled his ear.

“Sam, are you feeling alright?”

His stomach tightened and his cock jumped, painfully swelling against the roughness of his jeans. “Uh…” He shuddered and took a deep breath, holding it until his shoulders stopped shaking. “W-will you excuse me, please?”

Sam jumped up before she could answer, dragging the old Romanian book on gypsies with him, holding it over his crotch as camouflage. He ran from the room, and Y/N looked at Dean with worried eyes.

“Something I said?”

Dean chewed his lip, pondering the situation, and excused himself as well after finishing his beer in two long pulls. “I’ll be right back.”

Sam was in the mouth of the hallway, filling up the cavernous passageway with not only his height but his frantic movements. He paced back and forth across the seven foot wide tiled expanse, his teeth gnawing at the middle nail of his left hand.

Dean approached quickly but gently. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Sam skidded to a halt and turned on his heel, eyes wide, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t calm down. I’m like, my- with- and she- there was- I couldn’t sit there anymore. Do you know how soft her skin is?”

“Whoa.” Dean raised his hands carefully, trying to get Sam to calm down. “Reel it in, man.”

“I can’t. I can’t. It’s like my brain is jumping. And my heart is like- boom boom boom. Did you see Y/N’s lips on that bottle? Oh my god- it was like- wow.” Sam’s stomach flipped again and he bit his lip to keep in a moan. “What is happening!”

Dean shook his head, dumbfounded. “What the hell did you take?”

“Tylenol!” Sam snapped back. “You told me to take the tylenol in your room! Because somebody finished the Exce-”

“Oh...fuck.” Dean exhaled slowly and sought sanctuary on the ceiling, but found none.

“Dean…”

“Which bottle?”

Sam’s shoulders rose up to his ears. “Which bottle! The one in your nightstand. You said to take the Tylenol. I took the Tylenol. You said the one in your room. That’s the one I took. Why the fuck? What!”

Dean tread carefully. “Ya know, it’s no big deal,” he said with a fake laugh. “You’ll be fine.”

“What did you do!”

“I did nothing!” Dean defended, backing away slightly as Sam lurched forward. “You… may have taken some-”

“Some what, Dean?”

Dean let out a breath that rumbled his pursed lips. “Ecstasy?”

Sam’s explosion was instant and a little bit terrifying. The book dropped to the floor as both his massive hands rose to strangle the air in front of Dean’s face, inching ever closer to his actual neck. “What is ecstasy doing in the Tylenol, Dean!”

“You remember Chloe, right?” Dean said quickly, hoping to weasel out of danger with a memory. “The waitress from Lincoln with the sister who had the big…” He smirked, hands out and curved around his chest. “You remember. Anyway- I didn’t want to just leave it laying around so…”  

Sam’s jaw was near to breaking with how tightly he gnashed his teeth together. “So you put it in the Tylenol?” His voice echoed down the hall and Dean shushed him quickly, lest Y/N come running.

“I forgot, OK? I was drunk. Anyway, it’s old. That was like three years ago. You’ll be fine. Just...go lay down. You’re freaking vibrating.”

Sam spun around three times, tugging at his hair as his muscles twitched. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Go lay down and sleep it off,” Dean ordered, clamping a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re fine.”

“Remind me to kill you tomorrow.”

“Will do, buddy.” Dean patted his back and gave him a push, sending Sam off to bed. “Goodnight.”

The sheets were so soft, Sam couldn’t stop touching them. He ran his hands down across the mattress, feeling every single thread in the woven fabric, wondering if he could count them all if he concentrated really hard.

The pillow was cool against his cheek. It rubbed against his face, so soft and cool, wicking away the heat from his skin until it was warm and he frowned, quickly flipping it over to feel the cold again. It was amazing.

He was burning up, sweating and prickling with energy. He could feel every hair on his body, every cell was alive and moving. It was maddening and incredible, and he wanted… something. He needed...something.

Y/N knocked, but Sam was too lost in his own frantically dancing thoughts to acknowledge her. She opened the door a crack, peeking in just to make sure he was decent.

“Sam?”

He jumped at the sound of her sweet voice and turned over quickly, sitting up to face her. “Hey, Y/N/N.”

She stepped inside and kicked the door shut with a tap of her heel. “I just wanted to check on you,” she said cheerfully, tossing a water bottle at him. “Feeling any better?”

He missed the catch and the bottle landed by his side on the bed. “Uh, yeah. Good. Why? How are you? Are you ok?” He rambled while trying to pick up the bottle, immediately distracted by the weight of the water and the way it felt moving in his hands. He stared into the clear plastic and Y/N raised her brows in worry.

“What is going on with you?”

“It's like holding an ocean,” he mused, entranced by a bubble near the cap.

“Right.” Cautiously, she came close and touched his hand, moving it and the bottle away from his eyes. “Sam…”

The touch of her fingers on his made Sam's blood sing. His focus zoomed in on her delicate hand, the supple, soft skin, the dimples of her knuckles. He couldn't breathe for what seemed like forever, his lungs frozen, body void of all function except the nerve endings that sizzled with her touch.

“Want…”

She cocked her head at his faint whisper and moved her hands to his cheeks, looking him over with concerned eyes. “Sam, what's wrong? Tell me what you need.”

He took a quick breath and looked up into her eyes, losing himself in the heat of her hands. “I need…”

She leaned closer, wanting to help, scared of the wild look in his eyes. “Tell me. Anything you need, Sam. I'm here.”

His pulse was pounding, loud in his ears; his skin was on fire, stomach churning with nerves. He breathed deep, trying to calm himself but finding no point. She was what he needed. Always had been. “I need...you.”

Her breath caught and Y/N shook her head gently, in confusion not disapproval. “What?”

“You,” he said again, eyes looking deep into hers. “I need you, Y/N.”

“Are you-”

Sam laid his hands on top of hers, his eyes rolling a bit at the softness of her skin. “High? A little. Yeah. Dean and the- it's a long story there was a waitress with- it doesn't matter.” She let him ramble, amazed by the strange lightness of his voice. Sam stumbled over his own tongue, words spilling out before he could think them through. “The point isn't about the waitress. I had a headache and- Y/N… can I?”

She laughed gently. “Can you what, Sam?”

“I wanna kiss you. Can I- um...may I kiss you?”

Heart in her throat, unable to answer, Y/N simply nodded and chewed nervously at her lip, waiting for the kiss she'd wanted since the moment they'd met.

Sam's face lit up with a smile. “Really?” He moved his hands from hers to hover over her cheeks, unsure if he should let them land. He could feel the space between them, their auras touching, atoms ricocheting off each other in the tiny gap.

“Yes, Sam,” she sputtered in a whisper. “Kiss me.”

It wasn't a kiss, it was an explosion. Sam let go of every nervous doubt, every worry, every self conscious thought that had ever passed behind his hazel eyes and finally took a leap two and a half years in the making.

His fingertips landed on the apples of her cheeks and he pushed upwards, taking her lips without a second thought. The feeling was maddening and Sam sealed his eyes shut tight, enjoying the sensations sparking against his mouth. She breathed against him, parting her lips to snake her tongue across his mouth and Sam moaned loudly, his hands moving to grab hold of her neck and shoulders, pulling her down.

They fell onto the bed; sheet billowing around them as their bodies tangled. Sam kissed her again and again, unable to decide which kiss felt better: the quick press of warm lips, or a lingering, soft pull. When her tongue touched his again, he gave up trying to analyze and licked into her mouth like a starving man.

Y/N tried to roll off of his chest, but Sam followed her, turning onto his side so that as much of him was touching as much of her as he could manage. The very thought of moving his hands away from her body was sheer panic, and he clung to her with all he had.

“God, you feel so good,” he panted in between kisses, holding her close. He ran his hand up and down her side, marveling at the dip at her waist and the softness of her hips. “I never knew it could feel so good. Fuck. I…” His voice was cracking, nervousness creeping back into his mind. What if she didn't want more, what if she was just here because he was a wreck? His fingertips paused at the hem of her shirt, twitching as he debated reaching under the cotton. “Can I- I need to- feel you.”

Y/N kissed him hard and grabbed his hand, guiding it up underneath her shirt. Sam stiffened as she pressed his palm against her breast and he let loose a husky growl.

“Touch me, Sam,” she urged, squeezing his hand so that his fingers curled around her. “I want you to.”

He sighed against her lips and the animal inside took over. Sam lifted her with him as he sat up, quickly pulling her shirt off. He stared for a moment, stunned by the dip between her breasts and the soft mounds caged and held high by her bra. When Y/N unhooked the clasp and pulled the fabric away, Sam dove down, locking his mouth around her nipple, and feeling the flesh harden against his tongue. He hummed, feeling every dimple like a spark of fire on his lips, and he sucked hard, drawing a husky moan from Y/N.

“Fuck, Sam!” She pushed her fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp. When he bit down on her, she yanked a fistful of hair and Sam let her tit fall from his mouth as his head flew backwards, eyes rolling as tortured pleasure spread through him like icy fingers down his spine.

“Do it again,” he breathed, chest heaving, lips wet and parted.

Y/N pulled his hair again and he let out a wail of desperation and sank back onto the bed.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, reaching for her hips to pull her close. “Everything feels so good.”

She wiggled her arm out from beneath his head and tossed a leg over him, straddling his trim hips. Sam looked up with dark eyes that struggled to focus, his lips trembling as she plucked his shirt buttons open. His hands traveled slowly up her thighs, massaging with unmappable touches as he tried to feel all of her at once. By the time his hands cupped her breasts again, Y/N had his flannel open and she bent down to lick at his chest while pushing the cotton further from his broad shoulders.

“Oh-my-god.” He was near to hysteria, every atom in his body craving more. “Please.”

The tip of her tongue flickered, hot, over his left nipple and Sam nearly roared as the sensation zapped through him. Y/N sat back then and rubbed her ass over his jeans, making his eyes roll back hard.

“I-I-fuck, please...” His jaw dropped as she rocked forward again, denim on denim, rough yet gentle; friction heating the air between them and making his cock swell even harder.

Y/N tugged her hand through his long hair once more, loving the silkiness between her fingers, the pathetic cry it pulled from his throat. “You need something else, baby?”    

“Need-”

She yanked the chestnut strands, winding her fingers around the soft locks until her knuckles grazed his scalp.

“Tell me.”

Sam opened his eyes, struggling to focus on her, panting as the pain spread like delicious fire across his skull. “Need to fuck you. Please.”

Another firm tug lifted his chin and Y/N kissed him hard, plunging her tongue into his dazed mouth, lapping at the stale taste of beer and mint that lingered on his tongue. “You sure?”

His head lolled to the side when her hand disappeared. “Yes. Please. Please.”

Zippers were ripped, buttons snapped and belts opened, drawers discarded. Sam could barely stand it. The slide of his own hands as he undressed drove him insane; the sight of Y/N stripping for him made his heart beat dangerously fast.  

Finally, she came back to him, hopping back into his lap, taking his lips again as she slid down, slowly impaling herself on his enormous erection. She inched down as gently as she could, holding her breath against his mouth as her cunt stretched for him.

Sam held on, wrapping his arms tight around her back, holding her close so neither would fall. His head was spinning, his blood rushing too fast, pounding in his ears.

“Please…”

“It’s OK, Sam,” Y/N whispered, kissing his cheek sweetly, “I got this…”

Dean tripped over his bootlace in the hallway but caught himself and laughed it off, thankful that no one was around to see his balancing ballet. Realizing he was putting himself in mortal danger, he finally shut down his game and stashed the phone in his back pocket, sighing as he said adieu to his high score.

“I could go professional,” he mused as he passed Sam’s room. “Do they do tournaments for Tetris?” He paused, scrunching up his nose as he thought about the ridiculousness of such an idea.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean spun on his heel and headed back to Sam’s bedroom, lifting a closed fist to knock on the door. “Do they do Tetris- oh...”

Just as quickly as he had before, Dean spun around again, this time smirking as the unmistakable sounds of fevered lovemaking made their way through the ancient door. Shaking his head, Dean made a mental note to ask Sam about his new money-making idea in the morning. That, and what he and Y/N had gotten up to thanks to his accidental drugging.

Dean laughed to himself. “Poor kid needs to be stoned to make a move.”

From behind the door, Y/N let out a wail, screaming Sam’s name without care.

Dean paused for a moment to listen, nodding proudly before heading off to bed. “That’s my boy.”

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