#yeah. cops didn’t do shit anyway as is typical

[missiodine]

sometimes I remember how I was bullied about my terrible acne in high school and middle school by everyone, including my own bio parents. “you should wash your face more” was a very common line. like mate, I think if the issue was my personal hygiene, that’d be easy to fix. I even briefly got prescription medication to try to fix my skin but not even that worked plus my parents never took me to a doctor after that. not even for like other things like my messed up spine that still makes unsettling noises when I try to do a curl up and my messed up jaw that hurts sometimes for no reason. in hindsight the jaw thing might be from when he hit me in the head because he got angry

did I ever mention my father stole most of my money from me and threw away all my things when I ran away for like a day or two. for a solid while I was wearing the same exact clothes every fucking day because I didn’t have any money to buy clothes and what little money I had was being spent on the most minimal amount of food I could afford. Once I finally escaped from my parents, I gained like 25 pounds in a few months. And then I binge ate because idk. These days, I’m trying not to overeat anymore and lose some weight.

like yeah, I still look like shit these days but yk it hurts

[kiss-theggoat]

billy loomis x stu macher x reader

hi hun! could u do something where billy loomis and stu macher find out reader is like them? but reader is like, cold, calm, and manipulative?

anything but smut pls <3

thank you! have a cool day :)

A/N: You got it babes 🫶🏻 Hope you like!

Three’s A Crowd

Billy and Stu x F!Reader

Word Count: 800

Summary: After discussing the murder of Casey Becker, Billy and Stu think they’ve found someone who might be committed to their cause.

TW: Canon typical violence

You sighed as you plopped down on the concrete beside Sydney and Tatum, sitting between the two couples. Randy was ranting about something or other, like usual, but you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. To be honest, all this fuss with the murders was…annoying. You’d been pulled out of class twice to be “checked on” which is a nice way of saying interviewed, and offered grief counseling from some girl who’s been rude to you since middle school.

Now, all anyone can talk about is Casey and Shane. You’d hoped that sitting next to your friends would give you a break, but alas, Randy was spewing some shit about movies and rules and killing. You rolled your eyes and picked up the small bag of chips from your bag, tearing it open.

“Did they ask you guys if you liked to hunt?” Stu asked, looking towards Billy and Randy, who both nodded their heads.

“They didn’t ask us if we liked to hunt.” Tatum pointed out, shrugging her shoulders. Which was true. None of the girls were asked any questions pertaining to the death of Casey or Shane, just where they were and if they’d like grief counseling, while the boys were looked at more carefully. Which, you thought, was pretty offensive.

Stu laughed, popping a grape into his mouth “Because a girl couldn’t have killed them.”

“Wrong.” You said frankly, voice monotone, chip crunching between your teeth.

Everyone looked towards you, Stu and Randy with the usual misogynistic mansplain face on. “I heard they were gutted. A girl couldn’t do that.” Stu stated, and Randy immediately followed up, “And most serial killers are men.”

“First off all, Randy, a killer has to rack up three kills to be labeled a serial killer. And second of all, Stu, women can, and have, kill people like that.”

Billy sat up onto his palms, now paying more attention to the way you spoke.

“Oh yeah? Give me an example.”

You scoffed, crumpling your now empty chip bag and shoving it into the pocket of your backpack. “Are you stupid? Have you ever heard of… I don’t know, Elizabeth Bathory? One of the first women to be accused of serial killing. She’d capture virgins from the village, torture them, then bathe in their blood. She believed it kept her young.”

“Yeah, accused. And she used servants.” Randy rebutted, giving you a cocky smile.

“Okay… Aileen Wuornos.”

“Just shot her victims, never gutted them.”

“Randy, I’m not arguing if a woman could gut someone or not. Don’t be an idiot, of course a woman could. I’m saying that women are just as capable of being killers. What about Juana Barraza? Killed like…50 innocent elderly people. Just because she didn’t gut them doesn’t mean she is a better person.”

Stu nodded a little bit, eating another grape before speaking. “I guess you’re right.”

You looked over to Sydney, seeing how uncomfortable she was, which made you feel a little guilty but you’d been walking in eggshells around her for a year. You shifted a little bit and leaned back against your hands, sighing. “Doesn’t matter anyway. They won’t catch who did it.”

Billy finally chimed in. “Why do you say that?”

“I heard a couple cops saying they found no evidence at the scene. Like a ghost killed them.” You said nonchalantly, causing Billy to look over to Stu. They made eye contact for a moment, but nobody caught it.

Billy watched you carefully. It seemed like you couldn’t care less about Casey being killed…and that interested him. The bell rang, and everyone stood and disbursed, except for Billy and Stu.

Stu leaned over, whispering into Billy’s ear. “She doesn’t care at all dude…this is awesome.” He was giddy. Billy knew Stu’s always had the hots for you, and this caused him to roll his eyes just a bit. But he couldn’t lie…this excited him too.

“Don't get your hopes up, Stu…”

“You think she’d help us?”

Billy turned to stare at him for a moment…maybe you would.

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

1 2 3

ao3

“This is…not what I signed up for, Eddie,” Steve says, carding his fingers through his hair and repeating the motion to set it back into place.

“This is actually insane,” Eddie agrees, voice fluctuating in volume slightly, and Steve can see his silhouette pacing back and forth behind the tinted window of the booth.

Steve wishes there were a seat closer to him, but the only decent one in the room is the couch by the booth window. He’s sure there’s a second seat in Eddie’s booth, the one that Robin typically sits on; maybe he’ll ask for it later. “Was Joyce serious when she said it’d take her four hours to get help?” he asks, and he watches Eddie nod. Eddie’s got really long hair for a guy—curly, too—and it bounces in sync with his head. Steve groans. “This guy’s gonna kill half the town in four hours!”

Eddie’s pacing abruptly stops, and he grabs the mic. Steve’s headphones squeak with the feedback. “Steve, that is not helpful,” he says.

Shit, yeah. Especially not when Eddie’s doing most of the phone stuff. All Steve has to do is answer the calls and…maybe save somebody’s life. “I know, I know, I just—ugh,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Who is this Whistling Man dude anyway?”

He watches Eddie’s silhouette plop back down in his chair. Must be nice. “He was this serial killer back in the sixties. Henry Creel. Went around in a freaky mask whistling that one song—Ella Fitzgerald, Dream-something—”

“Dream a Little Dream of Me, yeah, I know the one,” Steve says. That must’ve been the song they’d heard before.

“Well, he killed about a dozen people in Hawkins. Mostly teenagers. He had no reason for it—no motive, he just…did,” Eddie explains.

Jesus, that’s dark. “So…what happened to him?” Steve asks. The most he knows is that the guy died at some point. In a town like Hawkins, a serial killer seems so…out of place. On the outside, the town seems like a run-of-the-mill, middle-of-nowhere, normal place. Steve would’ve never guessed it had such a horrifying history.

Eddie’s sigh is crackly over the speakers. “Well…cops chased him over to the abandoned lab, up to Ellis Point. We call it Whistling Point now. And it was—shit, it was on the—it happened on this night, actually,” he says. So…maybe a copycat? “The cops cornered him, and he jumped into the river. His body was never found.”

“Wait, if his body was never found, is he—is he alive? Dead? What’s the story?” Steve asks.

“Story is, he’s biding his time. Waiting to take revenge on the town,” Eddie says in a low, theatrical voice, and Steve rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

“Okay, okay, that’s the story,” he says. “What’s the truth?”

Because old Henry Creel is probably, like, sixty, seventy years old by now—unless he’d been, like, a teenager killing teenagers—which means that even if he were still alive, revenge-seeking would probably be out of the question. “Other than we have a whistling killer on our hands tonight?” Eddie asks, and Steve nods. “Shit, Steve, I got no idea.”

Steve shifts, uneasy. “Well, I guess we’ll have to end up finding out what we’re dealing with, whether we like it or not,” he mutters. “But—y’know, chin up, man, we’ll do our best.”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “I guess so.”

“At least we got the word out,” Steve says, though that raises another question. “”What kind of listening figures do we get around this time?”

Eddie gives him a snort-laugh. It’s a nice sound, compared to the literal mortal-peril shouts of Joyce from earlier. “On a Thursday? After midnight? Could be…around thirty-five?” he says, and, huh, that’s not bad.

“Thirty-five, as in thirty-five hundred? I didn’t realize Hawkins had that many people,” Steve says, pleasantly surprised.

“No, thirty-five people,” Eddie clarifies. “At best.”

Yeah, that makes a lot more sense.

“Are you serious? We only have thirty-five listeners?” Steve asks, trying to hold back his laughter. It’s absurd, really, just how far he’s fallen. But it’s his own fault, truly. That disaster back in Chicago…God, it’s a wonder he still has any semblance of a career.

“Yep. Thirty-five. It’s a school night,” Eddie tells him, like that makes it any better.

Steve bites back a smile and pinches the bridge of his nose. “And, uh…what’s the population of Hawkins?” he asks.

Eddie makes an uncertain sort of sound. “I dunno exactly. I’m not secretly an encyclopedia, Steve, but it’s…a little over a thousand, I wanna say,” he says. Steve hums. “How many did you get before your fall from grace, my liege?”

“Oh, you mean before my career exploded and I ended up on a midnight hour talk show in a town of a thousand people?” Steve shoots back, easily playful even though it’s still painful to talk about, a little bit.

Snickering, Eddie toys with something behind the tinted window. “Yeah. Before that.”

That’s a hell of a question. Steve blows out a long breath. “Around five for most shows on the low end, I think. Big guests could pump that up to ten, fifteen, easy,” he recalls. It’s not necessarily that Steve had lived for the attention—although that hadn’t hurt—but it had been nice, honestly, to know that people really enjoyed what he has to say, that people would listen to his ideas and opinions and take them as something with worth.

Eddie lets out a bewildered laugh. “Holy shit, Steve, five thousand on the low end?! We could only dream of that!”

Ah.

“Five million,” Steve corrects.

An unholy noise passes through his headphones, and Steve almost chucks them right off his head, but it stops just as soon as it had started. “Mill-i-on?!” Eddie squawks, pronouncing each syllable like a separate word.

It makes Steve feel a little sheepish. “Yeah, y’know, that’s—sometimes, that’s just the way that it goes,” he murmurs. “At least The Whistling Man hasn’t killed me yet…I guess.”

“I never did ask you—oh, shit, hang on, switch the songs,” Eddie tells him, and Steve watches the ‘on air’ sign flicker back to life as the music fades out.

“Alright, folks, that was Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive,” Steve says smoothly, switching out the records. “This next song is Asia’s Heat Of The Moment.”

The sign flickers off. “Nice work,” Eddie commends.

Steve mimes tipping an imaginary hat in Eddie’s direction. He clears his throat. “Uh, you were saying something about—were you gonna ask me something?”

“Yeah, um—I was just gonna say, I never did ask about how that whole thing went down. The Chicago thing,” Eddie says. Steve feels his gut churn with nerves. He doesn’t like talking about this. It’s one thing to know that the person he’s talking to knows about the biggest screw-up of his career, that they had heard the broadcast, but it’s another to explain it himself. “So…are you gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s not as if Eddie’s an asshole. Sure, he can be kind of a dick, and he certainly knows how to take a bit to the worse end of ‘too far,’ but he’s not, like, awful. Steve sighs. “Okay, so…I was interviewing this politician, right?” he starts, and he sees Eddie’s silhouette nod. “And, uh, he was a contributor at the station. Big-wig type deal, y’know? So, I—the PR people working for the people I interview usually give me a list of stuff that’s off the table, a list of topics that they require I bring up, stuff like that, and—anyway, I’m supposed to ask this guy about the platform he’s running on, his policies, whatever.”

Eddie chuckles. “What, you disagreed with your guest? That’s it?”

Steve takes a deep breath. It’s not like he has issues keeping his temper in check, most of the time; he’d used to, when he’d been in high school, but a career in entertainment has really hammered the value of patience into him. “We’re talking about this guy’s campaign. And he starts going on about how his platform is around family values,” he tells Eddie, running a hand through his hair nervously. “So, now he’s talking shit about the ‘dangers of homosexuality,’ and my blood’s starting to boil.”

“He sounds like a douche,” Eddie says, so quiet that Steve almost misses it.

He nods. “Yeah, he is. I try and steer the conversation away, because I’m a professional, and that’s just what you do when there’s some stupid shit happening on your show, but he won’t stop. He won’t shut up about it,” Steve grits out. It still gets him worked up, thinking about what had happened that day. “Next thing I know, I’m coming out on live radio to fifteen million listeners and yelling at some jackass for ruining my show.”

The silence that stretches after he says it makes Steve tense. For the most part, no one in Hawkins has given him shit for what had happened—not directly, anyway. Steve’s still amazed he’d managed to get hired. He thought he’d be blacklisted. For all intents and purposes, he might as well be, but Owens had given him a job here, and that’s more than anyone in Steve’s position could’ve reasonably hoped for.

It’s why he and Robin had become such quick, close friends. The relief that comes with knowing someone else on his show is queer is indescribable. Chicago—his whole career—had been fantastic, he’d done so well, but it had been really isolating. He couldn’t risk his career, which meant he couldn’t go out and meet people, make meaningful connections, without chancing that they’d go to the tabloids if they were to ever break things off with him.

But, hey, at least he’s got nothing to lose now.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes at last, but the song’s coming to an end.

The sign flickers on, and Steve swaps out the records again. “Our next song comes to us from our intern’s friend—this one’s for you. Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill,” he announces, the sign turning off once the music starts up. Steve clears his throat, an all-too-familiar sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. “So…do you totally hate me?”

There’s a half-aborted mix of a squawk and a shriek, and he watches Eddie’s silhouette nearly topple out of his chair. “What?! No! No! Jesus—I wouldn’t—I’m—that’s awful, Steve, I’m…I am so sorry,” Eddie says. “Shit. Shit, it’s so not funny to make fun of your career falling apart, then, oh, Jesus H. Christ.”

Steve lets out a nervous little laugh. “I mean—why did you even make fun of me in the first place?” he asks, because he is kind of curious.

Eddie’s silhouette flaps around in an indecipherable series of gestures. “I thought you were, like, just another radio douchebag! But you’re not! You’re actually a really good dude, and now I feel really bad for making fun of you,” he groans, and Steve smiles at him.

“Well, in your defense, it’s not like I was eager to make the reason why I was fired known,” Steve says. “It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t know why it happened. It was kinda nice, in a weird way…? To get treated like just some guy.”

“Be still, my beating heart! Handsome, charming, and a down-to-earth, good guy? I never stood a chance,” Eddie mock-swoons, and Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, Hawkins is kind of a tiny town, but it’s not, like, awful. I wanna get out of here as much as the next guy, don’t get me wrong, but don’t beat yourself up for ending up here.”

A small smile worming its way onto his face, Steve nods. “Yeah, it’s not half bad. Gotten a couple dirty looks, but you get that anywhere, being queer,” he says, and Eddie inhales sharply. And that…sucks. “I, uh—sorry, I know some people aren’t really cool with just bringing it up casually—”

“No, no, I’m not—I just—I get that,” Eddie tells him gently. “The, um—the dirty looks. I know what that’s like, that’s all.”

Something warm lodges itself into Steve’s chest. “Oh,” he says, “um, cool. Is that because of…?”

“I mean, kind of. I’m—a lot of people assume things, whether or not they have even a grain of truth to them. But they mostly give me dirty looks because they think I’m a satanist,” Eddie snickers. “I mean, I’m not, but—with the way I look, the conclusions people jump to are…definitely understandable.”

Steve tilts his head. “I’ve still never seen what you look like, y’know,” he says, and Eddie’s silhouette tenses a little in the window. “I mean—I’m sure you look—”

“Oh, shit, we’ve got another call coming in,” Eddie tells him, just as Running Up That Hill is beginning to fade into its outro, and Steve clears his throat. “Take it when you’re ready.”

Steve adjusts the volume slider to fade the song out before stopping it completely, watching the ‘on air’ sign flicker back to life as he presses the first phone line button to accept the call. “Hello, caller, you’re live on 189.16—The Scream,” he says smoothly. Then, recalling that this could very well be a 911 call, he winces. “Is everything, uh…alright?”

Heavy breathing is the only thing that he’s met with.

Steve’s brows furrow. “Okay…? Who is this? Are you—hello? Hello?” he tries, because maybe it’s someone that’s been hurt. He hopes it isn’t. Not because he wouldn’t have to deal with the situation, but because he isn’t really sure how efficient Hawkins General’s ambulances are.

There’s just more heavy breathing from the other end.

“Okay, what’s your name, and why are you calling in?” Steve tries, because he can’t help if he doesn’t have any information.

Some whistling comes through the speakers of his headphones, but it’s shaky. The tune isn’t right. “You know my name,” the caller says with a clearly put-on, gravelly voice. “I’ve come back from the dead to kill again! No one is safe!”

Oh, great, some bored dickhead has decided to make light of a murder. “Do you accept requests?” Steve asks, one hip cocked as he crosses his arms. “I’ve got a list of names I’d love to see in the obituaries.”

The caller makes a couple of half-choked noises in confusion. “Uh…maybe,” they say uncertainly. “You must—um—you must make a sacrifice to us—oh, shit—I mean, me! Dude—dude, what do you want? We want cheese dusted pretzels. I mean—! I want cheese dusted pretzels! Or I’ll…cut your face off!”

Eddie groans. “Goddamn kids! I’m cutting them off,” he huffs. He does, and the dial tone is actually a pretty welcome sound this time around. “Sorry, Stevie, I know you’re not big on pranks.”

A small smile makes its way onto Steve’s face in spite of his annoyance. “Needless to say, I won’t be going out to buy anything for these kids, and none of you should be going out tonight, either,” he says. He swaps out the records again. “We’ve got an actual killer out there. Anyway, this next one’s dedicated to all of you staying inside with your doors and windows locked. This is Never Let Me Down Again —Depeche Mode.”

The ‘on air’ sign flickers off. “Hey, Robin just paged. She’s calling in, but she doesn’t want it on air. You good?” Eddie asks, and Steve nods. “Hey, Rob. You’re on with both of us.”

“Guys!” Robin near-shouts, and Steve winces. “Oh my God, okay—Chrissy isn’t home yet. Her jogs never last this long. And I was listening to the show in the car—holy shit, by the way—and now I’m starting to get paranoid, because there’s a killer on the loose, and I just keep thinking about all the different things that could’ve happened, and she took her cell phone, but the thing is huge and clunky, so what if she dropped it while she was getting chased or something? She drives her car all the way out by—”

“Robin, hey, calm down,” Steve says, as soothing as he can make himself sound. “I’m sure she’s okay. Her jogging route goes off Coal Mill, right? That’s so far from the station, and we don’t even know if that whistling asshole is still conscious. Joyce got him pretty good with her taser.”

Robin takes a deep breath. Steve kind of hates that he knows Hawkins’ layout enough to reassure her like this, but how can he really hate it when he hears her quietly laughing in relief on the other end of the line. “Right. You’re right. I’m being—ugh. Sorry, you know how anxious I get sometimes,” she sighs, and Steve hums. “She’s probably just fine. Thanks, Steve. I’ll keep the radio on just in case something does happen, but I won’t go anywhere, don’t worry.”

“You’ll page me if—you’ll page when Chrissy gets home, right?” Eddie asks, and, shit, Steve can’t believe he’d forgotten how close Eddie and Chrissy are.

“Yeah, ’course I will, Eddie,” Robin says, and her voice is soft. “You guys just…keep your heads up, okay? I believe in you. Talk to you soon.”

The dial tone sounds again, and Steve sighs. “Hey, Eddie?” he asks, and Eddie hums. “What the hell was that? Not—not the thing with Robin, the whole…kids pretending to be a killer, who, right now, is stalking the town…thing.”

Eddie groans. “It’s…a thing.”

“A thing?” Steve repeats, incredulous.

“Kids around here, they pull pranks pretending to be The Whistling Man. They think it’s funny! But it’s not. It’s not funny at all,” Eddie mutters darkly.

Steve stews in his own nerves. “So there’s no chance that our Whistling Man was just a prank, right? That Joyce…”

He can hear Eddie swallow. “No, that…that was real,” he says, and Steve swears under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He watches Eddie’s silhouette sit up a little straighter behind the tinted glass. “Let’s stay positive! We still have a show to do.”

“I’m gonna need a seat that isn’t halfway across the universe if I’m gonna get through the rest of this,” Steve tells him, gesturing over at the couch. “You got a spare in the booth?”

There’s a long pause.

Steve calls Eddie’s name after a solid thirty seconds of silence. “Yes, I—yeah, I do. Give me a second to put it outside the door,” Eddie says.

“I’ll just come grab it from you,” Steve tells him, “no big deal.”

“No, no, it’s okay, really, I—I’ll just put it out there. Just wait.”

He watches Eddie’s silhouette move towards the corner of the booth, and Steve makes his way over to the door. They’ve got, like, a little over a minute left until the song’s done and they’re left with dead air, so he might as well save them some time. The hall’s wide and warm, and Steve waits outside the door to the sound engineer’s booth, hands in his pockets. The door swings open, and he’s face-to-face with Eddie Munson for the first time since he’d arrived in Hawkins.

Eddie’s eyes are wide with surprise, big and brown under the curly bangs of his hair, the rest of the curls cascading down just past his shoulders. He’s pale, with a light line of freckles right under his eyes, going across his nose, and his plush, pink lips are parted in a perfect ‘o.’ He stands up straight—he’s about Steve’s height, maybe a little shorter—and brushes a lock of hair behind his ear, ringed fingers catching slightly on the dark curl. Steve follows the line of his arm, scans over the tattoos there, and he registers the giant letters of some heavy metal band sprawled across Eddie’s shirt, right over his chest. His eyes drag back up to Eddie’s face, a pretty pink color slowly spreading over his cheeks as Steve looks at him.

He’s kind of gorgeous.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

[potatoes-is-are-food]

Can I request some poly! Shigadabihawks x reader if you don’t mind. You have amazing writing and you have written some amazing poly! I don’t care if it’s sfw and/or nsfw, it’s totally up to you. I honestly kinda wanted to see how hawks and Shigaraki got along in a poly relationship and how they interacted with each other because I can imagine how Dabi and hawks get along or dabi and shigaraki but hawks and Shigaraki would have a odd relationship, y’know. Sorry if this is odd and you don’t know what I’m talking about and I just want you to know that I absolutely love your work. You’re the first person I check everyday when I get on tumblr. 😘

Awwwww!!! You are so sweet, thank you so much!!! Yeah this makes a lot of sense, for the demon au especially I’ve been trying to work on showing off the dynamic between Hawks and Shig. I hope headcanons are okay!

| SFW

- Before you enter the mix, Dabi is really the only holding them together. He started off dating Tomura (who still insists he barely even likes him, usually after they finish making out) and then later Kei joined in. You’re still not sure how it all came to be since you get a different answer depending on who you ask and what mood they’re in.

- Tomura is only a bit tsundere with Dabi and Kei, never you. With you he’s more openly clingy and would never deny how he feels. He wouldn’t say it, but he appreciates you being around whenever Dabi and Keigo make him feel like a third wheel. Keigo has some similar experiences, but he’s just genuinely not bothered whenever Dabi wants to go have some solo time with Tomura. Or you, for that matter. Just isn’t the jealous type.

- They like using you to fuck with each other. If you’re hanging out with Dabi there’s a good chance Keigo will come along and just flat out steal you. Just pick you up and walk off. Because he can. Dabi is fond of teasing Tomura about how much he likes you, despite clearly also liking you. Tomura’s go-to is usually also to steal you, however he likes to get you to come willingly so you’ll blow off whoever you were with to start.

- Keigo and Tomura get along best when teaming up to irritate Dabi. Whether it’s playing keep away with you, hiding his stuff, distracting him when he’s trying to brood and do Dabi stuff, they really enjoy the power of their combined effects on him.

- The three of them teaming up to irritate you is what really gets them cooperating. They’re all gremlins, they steal your clothes to force you into skirts with no panties, they move your stuff around so you have to ask them for help, and that’s without getting into how often they fight over you, although that’s not so much to annoy you.

- Dabi developed a little habit of calling you, Tomura, and Kei his sluts and now he does it no matter who’s around and it’s really embarrassing but he absolutely does not care.

- While most of the time it’s Dabi and you holding Tomura and Keigo together, it’s not uncommon to find just the two of them off by themselves bonding over a common interest or even occasionally making out.

- They each have their own rooms, but you don’t. You bounce between theirs and your stuff is always scattered around. Yes, it’s annoying. No, they won’t let you have your own room. The four of you typically end up sharing one bed anyway, although the room itself changes.

- They’re not shy about the relationship, so it’s fairly often you get teased (albeit lovingly) about having three boyfriends. Toga really likes trying to force you to pick a favorite.

- Everyone thinks it’s creepy. Everyone. But Kei started calling you their “little girl” and just never stopped.

- They don’t really do PDA between themselves aside from the odd hand holding or rare peck on the cheek, but when it comes to you all bets are off. You’re constantly perched in someone’s lap or holding a hand or having your clothes fixed by someone else. To everyone else it mostly looks like they toss you around.

- Sometimes they’ll take you on dates, switching between doing them one on one or with the whole group. It’s hard to get Tomura to go out, though, since he prefers stay at home dates. When he’s not feeling it you’ll usually end up in a blanket fort eating takeout all together.

- One time. one. time. some stranger muttered “slut” under his breath when he saw you walking along in public with them. Dabi charred his ass so fast the other two were pissed at him for not being able to get a hit in.

- Despite all of them being gremlins, they really love you and will 10/10 go out of their way to make sure you know that. Literally anything upsets you and the immediate response is “Tell me why you’re not happy and I will kill it.”

- Most of their more genuine affections are shown in little things they do. Keigo likes to get you guys things, especially snacks he knows you like since he can go in public freely. Dabi is constantly fixing your clothes and hair and making sure everyone’s comfortable. Tomura always touches you softly (outside of the bedroom), always brushing his fingers along your cheeks or resting his head on your shoulder, etc. He’s also the most likely to casually touch the others in public.

- When it’s cold everyone piles up on Dabi and he pretends he hates it, but you always catch him smiling when he thinks no one’s looking.

- Kei loves using his feathers to tease everyone, slipping them under clothes before you can stop them or making them flit around your face. It’s annoying but his laugh is so cute you can’t even be mad at him.

- Tomura’s face always lights up before he can stop it when one of you comes to play videogames with him. He’s really bad at hiding how excited and happy it makes him.

- Since you’re the only girl and they’re kind of sexist, they treat you a lot softer than they treat each other. Doesn’t matter how strong you are, they’ll always think you’re weaker and they need to protect you. It might not seem like it when they’re teasing the hell out of you or tying you up or spanking you, but they go way easier on you than they would on each other in the same situation.

- Literally any sign from you that you’re seriously upset or overwhelmed? Done. No more. Only soft affection and very mild teasing for the week.

| NSFW

- The first time Kei joined in while Dabi and Tomura were fucking, he didn’t even participate. He just watched like a fucking creep. Still does that occasionally.

- They all have relatively high drives and absolutely no shame between each other, so it’s pretty often you’re just casually getting fucked in one of their rooms while another sits on the couch beside you and watches TV. May or may not comment on it.

- Sometimes they’ll make bets about you. See who can get you to cum the fastest one week or try testing how long it takes for you to come to them when they don’t initiate it and which one you pick. How much cum they can stuff you with and plug up before it starts leaking out. And so on.

- It’s very different if it’s just one of them, or if it’s two and which two, etc.

- Dabi likes to manhandle you. He takes his time, makes you wait and beg and then just completely destroys you for hours on end. After, he sits back with a cigarette and lets you cling to him while he strokes you and tells you you did a good job. It pleases him when you’re so fucked out you can’t form full sentences, and he’ll tease you for it for days.

- Keigo is similar in that he likes to tease, but he’s also sadistic. He’ll make you cum on his tongue and fingers until you’re begging him to stop and then he’ll force at least two more orgasms out of you on his dick. Afterwards he watches you twitch and leak his spunk for a minute before giving you god-tier aftercare. Runs a bath, gets you some water, etc. Once you’re clean he encourages you to take a nap, but it’s usually an excuse for him to take a nap because he’s also worn out but trying to hide it.

- Tomura gets too excited to tease for very long, but that’s only directly before the sex. He’ll have his hand shoved in your panties just toying with you for hours while he absently scrolls on his phone. Sometimes he’ll have you get yourself ready where he can see, only to completely ignore you until you let him know he can start. Once he’s going, though, he’s done with all that. He’s drooling, panting, flushed, pounding you into next week. He alternates between kissing you and spitting in your mouth because he’s too wound up to just pick a mood most of the time.

- That’s not to say you don’t have lots of times where it’s intimate and loving, but that’s not really the usual.

- The Dabi/Tomura combination is the more nasty of the three. Kei isn’t opposed to doing stuff to make you squirm when he’s in the mood but Dabi and Tomura l i v e for that shit. They’re almost nightmarish together, 100% okay with piss, impact play, period stuff, all things anal, etc. Of course you’re their girlfriend and they love you so they’re not about to do something that has you screaming or crying for real, but if you’re at least mostly okay with it and they’re confident it’s not breaking you, they’ll do pretty much anything. Anything to get you teary-eyed, begging them to stop, etc. as long as you’re not saying the safeword. For aftercare they’re very gentle and soft as they clean you up and put you to bed. Doesn’t matter what time of day it happened, they’re putting you in bed and snuggling you until you get at least an hour of sleep. When you wake up they’ll get you something to eat and make sure they didn’t hurt you beyond the usual cuts, bruises, and assorted mild scorching.

- Dabi and Kei usually go for more of a good cop/bad cop sort of arrangement. Doesn’t seem so bad until you figure out they switch the roles without any indication of having done that. It’s like they have a sixth sense for it or something. You’ll be crying and clinging to Keigo since he’s been nice so far only for him to bend you over his knee and spank you raw for it; meanwhile Dabi has gone from smacking you around and spewing filth to cooing and stroking your face. Their aftercare is mostly praise, they’ll tell you you did well and make sure you’re okay mentally since some of the stuff they say can get pretty intense. They’ll get you cleaned up and make sure you eat and drink water, and they’ll cuddle as long as you want and won’t go anywhere even if you fall asleep.

- Tomura and Keigo are the most interesting mix. It’s not often that it happens, but when it does they work surprisingly well together. Their different types of degeneracy and patience seem to blur together into a lethal combination that’ll have you getting whiplash from how they toss you back and forth. They’re not usually both participating at the same time; someone has to hold the camera, after all. Aftercare usually consists of a shower, snacks, and either you napping on their laps while they game together or joining in if they didn’t rock your shit too hard. On days when they’ve done this, you’ll notice the two of them interacting more and occasionally taking some time to be alone together…

- When it’s all of them you’re fucking in for it. Depending on the mood it can vary wildly, but for the most part it’s just a complete mass of writhing limbs and moans. You’re tired ten minutes in, more of the focus is on you than anything, you’re forced to cum over and over again, they each cum in or on you at least twice, and when it’s all said and done you’re covered in sweat, cum, possibly blood, and three sweaty, spent bodies. Usually after they have to peel your limp, half-conscious body off the bed and carry you to the bath. They’ll take great care of you, not that you’ll really remember it in your sorry state, and when you wake up the next day they’re more doting than usual. They’ll tease a little about how you’re sore and still just a little out of it, but that doesn’t mean they’re not checking on you and being extra attentive.

- The times when it’s all of you together but in a more romantic way, it’s like being surrounded by pure love. Everyone’s kissing, you’re all tangled together, it’s just really soft and intimate. Doesn’t last as long, but it’s insanely sweet and gooey. When finished, there’s lots of soft caring/cleaning up/cuddling for a while but it doesn’t have the same insane recovery time as usual. After everyone’s taken care of, the guys like to try pretending everything is normal, but it’s obvious they’re more clingy than usual. Definitely all sleeping together in a pile on nights like that.

- Sometimes one will join in just for aftercare. Kei enjoys seeing you a fucked-out little mess, so he’s always happy to help if it means he can see you destroyed for a minute first. Dabi likes the feeling of being needed and being able to care for someone, so he’ll help, especially cleaning you up and getting you dressed. Tomura loves the way you cling after, and likes to cuddle and nap, so he’ll come in late to the aftercare just for that.

[heavenbarnes]

feels so good to be us

Fezco (Euphoria) x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: mentions of drug use, mentions of guns, implied violence (all canon-typical), swearing, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex (this is fiction, yours isn’t, wrap it), dirty talk, light degradation, light choking, rough sex, light slapping, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 4.5k 

no secret that i fell in love w the guy whilst watching the show, so we’ll just see how this goes

She blew into town one day, seemingly out of nowhere, but not without purpose. Having reasons to be there was one thing, having reasons to stay was a whole other. Lacking in the latter, there was a lot to be grateful for in that one night.

The party that cracked on in a reasonable house, she was told by her friends that’d it’d be a good one. What she wasn’t told was that this was a party that was teeming with teenagers, horny ones in spandex and rhinestones.

A long way from home and everything was different.

Lucky enough, she poured herself a cup and hunted for a spot that was more around her age. Last thing she needed was to be caught up with a hoard of 17 year-olds looking to make trouble.

Whoever owned this house also came equipped with cash, judging by the indoor pool she stepped into, eyes up and trailing along the carefully carved architrave. Eyes far too transfixed to notice the young man on the lounger.

“You came looking for me?”

The voice made her head snap towards his direction, rolled smoke resting between his lips and steadily fingering a roll of cash. Narrowing her eyes at him in hesitation, she traced her finger around the rim of her cup.

“I don’t think so?”

He took his eyes from his counting and let them cast over her, that’s probably the first thing to pique her interest. Those kind of eyes you could fall into, pretty eyelashes too that almost made her want to smile.

She knew that he knew she was staring, but he hadn’t said anything about it, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You not from around here, huh?”

Straightening up and stepping forward a bit, she got closer so she didn’t have to shout across the room.

“No sir, I drove in this morning from out East.”

He nodded more to himself than he did her, tucking the money away in his hoodie pocket before leaning back on the cushion of the lounger. He took the cigarette between his fingers and tapped off some of the ash, eyes still nonchalantly drifting over her.

“Called it, I would’a remembered you otherwise.”

In trying not to let the corners of her mouth turn into a smile, it transformed into more of a pout, bordering on a frown. There was something about this guy, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“You would’ve?”

“Yeah, cause you wearing clothes,” He answered, making any expression on her face dry out. “You seen those other girls?”

Looking down her front, she had to admit that her belted trousers and high-necked tank was considerably more than what any of the high-schoolers were wearing. Shrugging her shoulders with a nod that spoke of “fair enough”, she managed to draw a chuckle out of the guy.

“That and you cute.” The inflection was so cool she almost missed it, but that wasn’t to say it was lost on her.

Scuffing her sneakers against the poolside tile, he shifted forward along his seat and watched intently at the way she no longer fought the grin on her face. Didn’t know the guy from Adam, but he was already tweaking some kind of feeling in her.

“Who you here with?”

She lifted her head and gestured back towards where the noise of the party was drifting through the door. “My friends Ocasio and Seraphine, made me come to make friends but they didn’t say they’d be teenagers.”

He nodded knowingly, muttering something about knowing them too. “They all so young, why I’m only here for business.”

So the inkling in the back of her mind that he was a drug dealer was correct, making his first comment make a lot more sense. In an attempt not to seem like a total fucking loser, she shifted the conversation.

“They said I should look for some guy, said that I’d probably like him.”

The man lifted a brow, before throwing his gaze over her shoulder in his turn to admire the architecture. 

“Yeah? They give you a name, not a lot of people I don’t know.”

She thought on it for a moment, she knew it reminded her of That 70′s Show, and that is sounded remarkably fake at the time.

“Fezco, I think? If that’s even a real name?”

His shoulders bounced as he chuckled a little, eyes moving back to her own. He had one of those stares where it was intense, but there was nothing in you that wanted to look away.

“Nice to meet you too, mamas,” He lent back again and propped his foot up on the seat. “Do I get your name?”

In attempting to avoid looking like a fucking loser, she’d managed it anyways. Her cheeks burnt as she nodded with a nervous laugh, smiling out of necessity before offering him her name.

He made some remark about her still being cute, before they were cut off by a couple of young people tripping down the stairs and narrowly avoiding the pool. They made a line for Fezco, hoping to make a purchase off of him.

She couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, in the move of things she started to step back to where she came. An obvious cast of disappointment fell over her as she began to pull back from it all.

“Mamas,” That voice stopped her in her tracks. “Just lemme do this, I ain’t done ‘whichu yet.”

Just like that, she’d found a reason to stay. From that point on, you didn’t see her without Fezco by her side, with a hand on her lower back.

They were polar opposites, but MC. Kat said those attract so that could be said for why they’d done so well together. She was warm, kind, and so gentle it’d make your heart do fucking flips.

She was the softest thing that Fez had ever got his hands on, and he’d be damned if he was ever going to let it go. He was open with her, showed her all the bad things that he did and he’d done, and she chose to love him anyway.

If you asked Fezco, she felt like home, she was safe to come back to after a long day of doing things he wasn’t proud of. No matter how many times he made shitty choice after shitty choice, she knew the heart that rested in him was inherently better than anything.

Nothing made that heart fuller than seeing her own coming through, you want to talk big hearts? You start with her. She was the very definition of love, patient and kind, and it wasn’t uncommon for Fez to pinch himself in wonder of how he got so lucky.

The days she sat beside his grandma, holding her up as he brought the sponge along her back. Never a complaint, she’d just smile at Fezco, at the gentleness of his movements. The smile that said “I’d never want to be anywhere else.”

And if his boys were on their way around to fetch payment, nothing had to be said. She’d quietly tuck away in the bedroom, laying in silence as she daydreamed of a life where Fez was totally happy. In her visions they live in the countryside, he never has to look over his shoulder and he is forgiven.

She was always the delicate to his rough around the edges, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know exactly what was happening. You couldn’t mistake her kindness for stupidity.

“Mans, I don’t think you know what you getting into.” Fezco’s voice never shifted from that calm tone.

Nate Jacob’s shit eating grin made the hairs on the back of Fez’ neck stand up, the kid using his height to try and forge an ounce of intimidation. Unlucky for him, the man in front of him wasn’t a 17 year old cheerleader with daddy issues, he couldn’t scare him.

Nate would still give it his best shot.

“You obviously don’t know what you’re doing with me, I will fucking ruin you.” His bark through gritted teeth drifted up the hallway.

“You came to my house, ‘tryna start shit with me,” Fez never backed down, nearly chest to chest. “I never gave a fuck about you.”

The sound that came from Nate was a scoff, the disrespect was evident as he looked down on the other man. “So you’ve forgotten how you threatened my life?”

As he lifted his hand up towards Fez’ throat, he wasn’t able to clock her on his right quick enough.

She calmly padded down the hallway, shorts and her boyfriend’s hoodie draped across her body as she approached the scene before her. Left hand coming to lift the hem of the sweater and right coming to grip the glock stashed in her waistband.

By the time Nate Jacobs even knew she was there, he could already hear the safety coming off. His hand stilled as his eyes drifted over to her.

“Take another step, playboy.” Eyes staring down the slide and right at the guy in her sights. “Pick up your nuts, and get out of my house.”

Nate looked back to Fez, meeting an almost unfazed expression. His eyes came over to her and the barrel aimed between his eyes.

“The cops coming here didn’t teach you a lesson? You want them coming back here looking for guns too?”

Her laugh rolled around the room, drifting between the three of them as her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, go ahead and call the cops again,” Her grip on the pistol never faltered. “I’m sure Fezco’s boys would love to hear about the little bitch that had the pigs sniffing around their supply.”

There was no missing the way Nate’s jaw clenched at the sentiment, the thought ticking over in his head that he might’ve finally met his match. The match that he’d tried to chat up in the convenience store, right in front of Fez with his own girl in the car.

“Everyone knows your name, Jacobs,” Fez wasn’t the only one he couldn’t scare. “Would hate for it to be dropped around the wrong people.”

The quarterback brought his arm down from her boyfriend’s neck, turning to face her with the gun only following his movements. Fezco stepped off him, making his way over to his girl.

He stood behind her, chest to her back as his hands rested against her waist. Lips moments from her neck as his eyes trained back on the teenager trying to raise hell in his own living room.

“Is that a threat?” The sour expression on Nate’s face was nothing short of unattractive. She didn’t know a lot about Maddie Perez, but she knew the girl could do better.

“No, it’s a fucking warning,” In an instant the gun was turned on it’s side. “I won’t say it again, get out of my house, before I fucking kill you.”

It didn’t take much more before Nate was dragging his knuckles out of the house, door slamming behind him. At that sound, she had the safety back down and was placing the gun in Fez’ hands.

He chuckled, turning her towards him with that same grip on her hips. His hands came back to put the gun in the band of his drawers, before he was shifting to cup her face. Fezco could feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks.

“Do I even ‘gotta tell you how fine you look waving my piece round like that?”

She matched his laugh, heart still beating wildly in her chest. Shaking her head, her lips came to Fezco’s, feeling the plush of his lips moving in time with hers. “I will definitely leave that up to you.”

“But you looked so good handling it, mamas.”

Brushing off his comment, she gripped his hand and lead him up to the bedroom, muttering something about him looking even better.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Fez stood in front of her, looking down at the woman who’d kill for him. He knew he’d found his absolute other half, there was no doubt about that.

He lifted the glock to her face, trailing the muzzle along her cheek before she turned her head gently and gave it a sweet kiss. He shook his head, leaning down to tuck it under their mattress.

Kneeling down before her, parting her knees so he could nestle in there, his face was so close to her own that she could feel the heat in his breath.

“You mean everything, baby, I fucking love you.”

That was what it was all about, the perfect balance that existed between them. Whilst Fezco might’ve been the guts, and she was the glory, there was no doubt that they’d always be what each other needed.

The first time in a while that Fez had felt was able to be vulnerable, was the moment he sunk into her arms after a grim night. She didn’t ask any questions, just wrapped him up in her and reassured him that she felt nothing but adoration for him.

On his part, he’d found paradise in a girl that was sweeter than an angel, but was always down to let him fuck her like a whore.

She wasn’t really down for a Halloween party, but she was always down to dress pretty and be on the arm of her man in the cleanest suit. Platform heels and a flowery mini dress, it was the godfather and the hippie, sat outside by the pool as the smoke from Fez’ blunt cast a cloud around them.

Thoughts drifted back to the moment they met, looking an awful lot like this.

Teenagers dipped in and out of the house to buy off her boyfriend, she just sat back with her legs up in his lap, feeling his fingers rubbing against her calf every now and then.

She said hello to the girls as they drifted past, but nothing felt better than when it was just the both of them, enjoying each other’s company as those under the influence stumbled around them.

Fezco let his hand drift slightly higher up her shin, calloused fingers coming to trace along the curve of her knee. She watched the movements of his touch, not ignoring the way her skin prickled underneath the graze of his nails.

Taking the blunt from his mouth, he turned to look at her fondly, hazy smile when he found her already looking back at him.

“This your song, mamas,” He referred to the Jack Harlow joint that was coming through the speakers. “You ‘gone dance for me like you do at home?”

She smirked, lifting her legs out of his lap and stepping out in front of him. “Depends if you’ve got the money to throw.”

Slowly spinning around for him, her hips swayed in a motion that he followed intently, catching onto the way her dress lifted with each movement.

“You trippin’ if you think ‘imma pay for what’s mine.”

Stopping the swing of her hips, she moved in closer to where Fezco sat with his legs spread wide. Moving between those legs, she bent over over and braced a hand on each of his knees.

“What are you tryna’ do, big man?”

Fez lent forward in his seat, lips coming to gently press to her own before he spoke in a hushed tone, better to keep his private moves private from the kids swirling around the both of them.

“I’m tryna’ blow your fucking back out.”

One thing could be said for Fezco, the man could keep his word. The minute he got her into the bedroom, large hands splayed across her hips and gripped tight enough to leave a mark.

Lips ran up the column of her throat, the graze of teeth left in the wake of his movements. Heady moans slipped off her tongue and filled the small room, coaxing Fez to move a little quicker.

His girl was getting impatient and he was never one to keep her waiting.

Turning her in his hands, he still had a mean grip on her waist as he moved her knees to perch on the edge of the bed. One large hand spread in the center of her shoulder blades as he pushed her chest down onto the mattress.

“Be a good girl and arch your back for me.”

Stomach dropping down and hips rolling back, she shook her ass for him as Fezco shifted up the hem of her dress, revealing the pretty lace she wore just for him. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them further apart till she got even lower.

One hand came back to slap the cheek of her ass, a sorry moan ripping from her chest as he massaged over the spot. Feeling the way his thumb traveled down the line of her underwear, grazing over where she was wettest for him.

Hooking around the band of the thin panties, Fez slipped them down her legs, sucking in a breath seeing how wet she’d been for him this whole time. She shook her hips, presenting herself to him like a meal he’d been waiting to be served.

“What got you so fuckin’ needy? Or you just always begging for it?” His voice rumbled through his chest, hitting her straight between the thighs.

“It’s always you, I just need you to fuck me.”

Two thick fingers dragged up her slit as she rolled her hips back for him, eager to catch anything that felt like pleasure. This teasing was nearly killing her, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to make her work for it.

“You ‘sposed to be a good girl but you lost your manners.”

Whining out, not caring how pathetic it must’ve sounded to him, she shook her ass again. Doing whatever she could to draw him and make him give it to her like she needed.

“Please, Fezco, I fucking need you.”

The sound of his belt coming loose was like music to her ears as his thumb gently dipped into her wetness. So close to getting what she wanted, he was never good at keeping anything from her. Especially not when she looked this pretty.

She felt him run the blunt head of his cock through her wetness, resting at her entrance for a moment. Tiny cries and whimpers still fell steadily from her pouted lips, Fezco sliding his hand down her back until his fingers fixed around the back of her neck.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy,” With one thrust he filled her straight up. “I never felt anything like you, baby.”

Her cheek pressed against the mattress with his grip, filthy moans drifting through the air as she felt Fezco wrecking her. His other hand still gripped tight at her hip, pulling her back onto him with every thrust.

It was never better than when it was this nasty, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as he fucked her dumb, the only thing on her mind was his name as she sang it back to him. 

He loved the sound of her crying out for him, pussy clenching impossibly tight around him. Fez knew every spot within her, exactly what to do to make her come apart under his hands.

“You so fuckin’ tight, mamas,” He gritted his teeth as his hand slid from her neck to grip her shoulder. “Tryna’ make me buss’ quick.”

A filthy giggle rolled straight off her tongue, before it turned right back into another cry as Fezco hit that spot just right. The hand on her hip slipped under and before she knew it, her eyes were rolling back as his fingers moved quick against her clit.

He nearly ripped a scream from her, moving his hand back to slap her pussy, before rubbing that same spot. He was going to be the death of her one day, the way he always knew exactly what he was doing.

“Baby- I’m ‘gonna- I’m ‘gonna,” Her words dropped off as she moaned for him under the pressure of it all.

“You good, ‘lemme hear it.”

Clenching like a vice around him, her whole body tensed up as the white hot feeling of her orgasm rolled over her. There was no doubt the neighbors would know about it, the way he never let up on her, had her crying out off the top of her lungs.

Fezco dipped his hand under her throat, fingers lightly fixing around it as he pulled her up to kneel. Falling back against his chest as he kept fucking her through it, her hand came back to grip his thigh.

She knew he was near his end, his hips were stuttering and the way he was groaning in her ear, she knew she had him good. Turning her head, her nose brushed against his face so her lips were moments from his skin.

“Come in me, please, baby.”

That was all it took, his arm flying around her waist as he gripped her hard to him. Hips stilling deep inside her as he filled her up, a vulgar cry from her as she felt him hot and running in her. Sliding his hand down her chest, he crossed his arms against her, nuzzling down into her neck.

“Maybe you are a good girl, huh?”

There was no doubt that she wasn’t just good, she was the best. Who else was going to sit patiently with their feet in Fezco’s lap as he counted his money and chewed through a pack of cigarettes.

Couldn’t find another girl that’d stand by his side at the town carnival, looking just as sweet as the cotton candy she was placing on her tongue as locals came asking around for their friend Molly.

Hot summer days outside the convenience store, popsicle between her lips as her sundress flutters gently in the breeze. Fezco ready to round up anyone that stared just a little too long.

Maybe it was all that candy that went past her lips, but there was never anyone who acted, or tasted that sweet.

Hearing the door shut, her mouth naturally curved into a smile. He was home, meaning he was safe, meaning she was safe and content. Fezco rounded the couch to where she sat, one arm braced behind her on the cushion as he lent down to kiss her.

Hands naturally coming to cup his chin, she felt the scratch of his beard in her palms as his mouth moved gently against her own. His shoulders dipped with a sigh, one that told her he was just as happy to be home as she was to have him.

“You seem so tired,” She cooed as she separated their lips. “Let me take care of you.”

Her hand trailed down the front of his sweater, coming to rest on his belt. Fezco pressed her hand down, against his crotch, bringing their lips back together. As she moved her other hand to start undoing his belt, he squeezed her hands to stop them.

Placing a hand on either side of her thighs, he dropped to kneel in front of her, before wrapping his hands around her knees and parting them. Fez lifted each of her legs and draped them over his shoulders.

Rough hands pushed the bottom of his hoodie, that was currently covering her, up her body and exposing her scantily clad lower half. Shallow breaths came from her as he dragged her panties down her legs, shifting her hips closer to the edge of the couch.

“This the only place I wanna’ be right now, angel.”

Her breath came across as choppy as she relaxed back into the couch, feeling big hands grip the the skin of her thighs. Fez’ head moved between her legs, pressing a kiss straight to her slit.

Hands coming to hold his head, thumbs massaging against the skin as her hips rolled forward toward his mouth. Darting his tongue out, he drew it up and along her until it came into contact with her clit.

Drawing his tongue around the nub, he felt her legs tense up against his shoulders. Fezco’s hands gently rubbed at her legs, feeling her relax once again into him.

The soft little whimpers that only she could make fueled him like nothing else, dragging his tongue quicker in an attempt to draw any sounds out of her. Her hips bucked up with the sensation of his tongue, pulling his face in closer.

“God, Fezco, you always make me feel so good.”

Humming in response, the sensation moved through her from between her thighs and deep into her. The feeling of the tip of his tongue against her clit made her toes curl up, feet running along the length of his back.

Fez wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking the sensitive nerves and making her call out his name. Her chest rose, arching her back off the couch as her thighs tensed around his head.

He never let up, just continued the assault on her clit as she writhed beneath his grasp. Fez couldn’t get enough of this feeling, having her wrapped around him and completely falling apart in his hands.

She couldn’t believe how lucky she got, having a man that walked straight through the doors and got on his knees for her. There was never a moment where Fez didn’t have her feeling like she was in the clouds.

Her whole body burnt hot as his tongue dipped into her, before dragging back up. Eyes falling shut and fingernails running down the back of her head, every time he moaned at the feeling it hit her straight where she needed it. 

“You’re ‘gonna make me come, please don’t stop.”

Fezco’s eyes flickered up to her, watching the way her whole body moved for him and her head kept falling back in pleasure. To have her reacting so strongly to him, he hoped she couldn’t see the way his cheeks were starting to burn.

“Go ‘head baby, come for me.”

The high-pitch of her whine pierced the air as her hips stuttered against his mouth. She felt her body relax, the feeling of pleasure consuming her entirely as Fez let her ride his face out of her high.

As she came back down to Earth, he came back up to her, hand wiping down his beard and watching the glow of her face. Lazy smile across her face as she reached out for him, going back to his belt.

“You going to let me take care of you now?”

One day they’d roll out of this town together, find their peace and spend their time looking forward without a care. Until then they found peace in each other, holding one another close.

More than anything, they’d found hope in each other? That this wouldn’t be forever, that you could find forgiveness in whatever you’d done.

Whenever there was a doubt, she just echoed those words back to him with a smile, the ones that she’d never forgotten.

“I ain’t done ‘whichu yet.”

[study-coffee-chicago]

Three Strikes (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine

When you moved in with Jay and Will after your dad had died, they had devised a three-strike system for punishments. Seeing as you were only fifteen and had lost both parents, they knew that they'd be dealing with some teenage angst. So, they had decided on this...and it would help them not be super overprotective, while still allowing you to be a teenager. But, make no mistake, Jay could turn what you saw as one strike into three strikes with a snap of his fingers. Much like his day job as a cop, he could find another thing or two to charge you with that you hadn't thought of before. And, well, bad luck comes in threes. If you thought your first three strikes of this week were going to be bad, you were in for a ride when another two came along.

***

Strike One

"How's it going, kid?" Hermann asked as you walked through the back entrance of Molly's.

"Good, school's normal," you answered, setting your backpack down and then going over to the sink to wash your hands. You brought your backpack in case it was slow because then you could get some reading or studying in.

"How close are you to getting those tickets?" he asked, grabbing a crate of glasses.

"I've got $350 so far, so halfway there. Mind if I listen to music back here?"

"Knock yourself out. But, you know the rules, one headphone so if I need you out there--which I shouldn't and can't because you're too young, but you know what I mean-- if we're slow and I need you to clean tables, you'll be able to hear me."

"Copy that, boss," you joked.

Hermann left with his crate of glasses and went to the front of the house, while you put in a headphone and shuffled one of your favorite playlists to work to. Then, you turned your attention to the dirty glasses and snack plates on the counter that needed to be washed.

***

You were hurrying to put some glasses away on a shelf behind the bar when you heard a voice you knew all too well.

"One of your finest IPAs, Hermann."

Shit. If he was done for the day, then that meant...

"Sure thing, officer," Hermann joked as you quickly pushed through the door and into the back, nearly knocking into Stella.

"Whoa there, Y/N, slow down. What's got you all in a hurry?"

"I just remembered I have a geometry test tomorrow," you lied. "You mind if I slip out now so I have a bit more time to study?"

"Yeah, no problem. I'll let Hermann know. Good luck on the test and don't study too late!"

"I would never!"

Then, you quickly slipped on your jacket and hat, grabbed your backpack, and walked out the backdoor.

All you could think on your three-block walk home was that Jay better not be home, because if he was,  you were so dead.

Jay typically got home around 11pm, and your shift at Molly's ended around 10:30...and your curfew was 10pm. And, because you were only fifteen and couldn't drive yet, it took you about fifteen minutes to walk home, so you'd get home around 10:45 and get all situated to make it looked like you had been studying for at least an hour before Jay got home.

You slowly turned the doorknob to go into the house, hoping that he'd be at the gym or out with Hailey. When you got inside and saw that all the lights were off, you breathed a sigh of relief and started up the stairs to your bedroom.

"I don't know where she is, Will! If I knew where she was I wouldn't be calling you now would I?" you heard Jay yell into his phone from his room.

Shit, shit, shit.

You were starting to walk back down the hallway and go back downstairs, maybe walk to the 24-hour coffee shop near your house and call him and tell him that you had lost track of time studying when you heard a door being forcefully flung open.

Run outside or freeze? Run outside or freeze? He'd see me either way and if I ran it would just make me look guilty, but maybe--

"Where have you been?" You were snapped out of your thoughts by Jay's loud voice booming down the hallway. He marched closer to you as you just stared at him with wide eyes. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Well?"

"I was at the library." But, it came out sounding more like a question.

"Wanna try again? Tell me the truth this time."

"I..." You sighed. Here goes your perfect plan of surprising your brothers with hockey tickets. "I was working at Molly's."

"If you're gonna lie, at least put some effort into it, for me," Jay groaned, throwing his head back.

"I'm telling the truth!"

Jay snorted. "Yeah right. Phone now."

"I'm telling you the truth, Jay! I was there because..."

"Because, why?"

"Uh, forget it." At least, this way you wouldn't have to ruin the surprise.

"Yeah, I knew you were out somewhere you shouldn't have been."

You held your phone in your hand. "I only have one strike. I get to keep it." You raised your eyebrow, daring your brother to challenge your logic.

Jay shook his head and looked down and laughed.

"What's so funny?" you demanded.

"That you think you're right." You opened your mouth to reply, but Jay stopped you. "Strike number one, breaking curfew. But, you knew that. Strike number two, lying to me about where you were because you told me two different places, so at least one, if not both places, were lies. And strike three--care to turn on your phone?"

"Why?"

"You hand me your phone and it turns off or is dead because you ran out of battery, you can keep it. If not, and you turned it off so I wouldn't know where you were, then I get to keep it for a while. Now, hand it over."

You sighed and handed it to Jay. He pressed the home button and when it didn't turn on, he looked at you. "Anything you wanna say?"

"No."

He held down on the power button and the screen became illuminated. When it turned on, he saw the battery percentage. "61%. Guess this is mine for the time being."

"Jay," you whined.

"Don't Jay me. You brought this on yourself. Now, you might wanna get to bed since you have school tomorrow."

"When will I get my phone back?"

"When I say you can have it back."

You groaned and turned around to go to your room and get ready for bed.

"Goodnight to you, too!" Jay yelled at your retreating back.

***

"Grounded, huh?" Will asked when you walked inside after school the next day.

"Jesus, Will!" You jumped. "You scared me." Will chuckled. "What are you doing here?"

"I am babysitting you."

"Jay put you up to this?"

"Yup."

"God, I'm 15," you whined. "He can't trust me for a few hours until he gets home?"

"He did trust you. But, then you snuck off and broke curfew and turned your phone off so he couldn't track you, so you needing a babysitter is warranted."

"Really? You're supposed to agree with me here!"

"No can do. I'm with Jay on this one. Where did you go anyway?"

"I was working under the table at Molly's."

Will scoffed. "Yeah right. If it's so bad that you have to pretend to be working, maybe I don't wanna know. But, Jay's a cop. He'll find out eventually."

"There's nothing to find out. I didn't do anything wrong!" You turned on your heel and started up the stairs. "I'm going to my room to do homework...since I obviously can't do anything else because I'm grounded."

An hour later, Will told you that he had gotten called in to work since there was a multi-vehicle crash and he was needed at Med ASAP. So, he left you home. And, since it was only 5:00, you figured you could get a few hours of work in at Molly's. After all, Hermann didn't know you were grounded.

***

Strike Two

You started your walk home around 10:30 as you normally did. You hadn't seen anyone from Intelligence (or Med) at Molly's when you left, so you hoped Jay wasn't home and that Will was so busy that he hadn't had time to come back and check on you. It's not like Will could call you because Jay had your phone. And, he had it at work with him. He wasn't that stupid that he'd leave it at home because he knew you'd tear the place apart in search of it.

Everything was going fine, except for the fact that you were checking over your shoulder every minute because it was dark and you didn't have your phone. Everything was fine...until you got halfway home.

You started to climb up a snowbank like you had when you were little when you, Jay, and Will would play king of the mountain and push each other off. (Well, they pushed each other off. If they so much as tried to push you, your mom would drag them in by their ear.) Everything was fine...until you got to the top of it.

Whoever had plowed the past few days had done a really shitty job of making sure all the snow was there because, before you knew it, your foot sunk into the top of the snowbank, which was two times your height, and then you fell. When you tried to use your hands to push yourself up, all the snow came falling down around you and you plummeted to the bottom of the snowbank, the sides of it wrapped around you.

You tried to grab on to mounds of snow and use them as leverage to pull yourself out, but it didn't work. The minute you thought you were getting somewhere, it would just fall down and you'd be back where you started. You tried to carve out spots to put your hands and feet, like a rock-climbing wall, but the minute you'd get your foot in, it'd break because of the weight and more snow would fall. You thought that if enough fell from the sides, that eventually it'd get shallower and you'd be able to get out, but then a plow came. It pushed more snow on the pile, making it so that you were standing up straight and barely had room to turn around now.

You took off one of your gloves and threw it out and onto the pile. Hopefully, someone would find you by seeing your glove and looking there. But, you knew it was a long shot as neither Will nor Jay knew you had been at Molly's. And, no one at Molly's knew the route you used to walk home.

"Help!" you yelled.

God, it was so cold.

***

Jay entered the house fully expecting you to run up to him and beg for your phone back...not that he'd give it to you anyway. But, when he got there, all the lights were off. He ventured upstairs and into your room, which was dark as well. It was 11:30, an hour and a half past curfew even if you weren't grounded.

Will had texted him earlier that evening to tell him that he had to go into work because there was a big car accident, and since Jay was suiting up to go into the field, it's not like he could just call someone else to watch you or go home himself. So, he decided to trust that you wouldn't leave the house. Apparently, he was wrong.

Jay pulled out his phone and quickly dialed Will's number. "Will!" he yelled into the phone. "Do you know where Y/N went? She's not here!"

"Shit," he muttered. "I have no idea. Track her-- oh yeah, you took her phone."

Jay rubbed a hand over his face. "Did she at least tell you where she went last night?"

"She told me that she was working under the table at Molly's. So, I assumed that she was doing something really bad if she had to lie that she was working. I shouldn't have come to Med. I'm sorry, man."

"No, it's your job. I should've found someone to stay with her that wasn't on call. I'm gonna go look for her."

"I'll keep my phone on me. Call if you have any updates."

Jay clipped his badge back onto his belt and reholstered his gun. Then, he walked out to his car and got in, intent on finding you.

As he was driving, he called another person who he knew would calm him down in times of stress: Hailey.

"Hey, Jay. What's up?" she asked as she answered the phone. After all, they hadn't been apart for half an hour at this point.

"Hails, can you call the team for me?"

"What? Why? What's going on, Jay?"

"Y/N. I told you that she was grounded and Will was watching her and then he got called into work. So, he left her at home and when I got home, she- she was gone."

"Okay, I'll call everyone. Did she give you any hint of where she went? Maybe mentioned it to you last night or Will today?"

"Yesterday she told me she was at the library and then she told me she was working at Molly's...which I'm pretty sure are both lies. But, then today she told Will she had been working under the table at Molly's. So, I honestly really don't know where to start."

"I know it's a long shot, but start at Molly's. If you don't get anything from there, we'll regroup at the district."

"Okay, thanks, Hails. If I get anything at Molly's, I'll call you or send a text to the group chat."

"No problem. We'll find her."

Ten minutes later, a very determined Jay Halstead walked into Molly's.

"Hey, Jay," Stella said. "What can I get for you? Adam just left if that's who you were looking for."

"No, I'm actually wondering if you've seen Y/N? She told me and Will this BS that she was working under the table here, so it's the first place I thought I'd check."

"She didn't tell you?" Stella asked, sliding a beer down the bar to Kelly.

"Tell me what?"

"She was working here, Jay. She'd work until about 10:30 and then she'd go home."

"What? You can't be serious."

"I've seen her around a few times," Kelly supplied. "Thought you guys knew about it. Good way for her to make some extra cash and since it's under the table, no taxes."

"So she did tell me the truth last night. God, I'm such a jerk."

"Why are you looking for her?" Kelly asked. "She not at home?"

"No, I got home and she wasn't there. And, I grounded her because she broke curfew and I thought she was lying about where she was last night, so I took her phone. Any chance either of you has seen her tonight?"

"She just left around an hour ago," Stella said.

"She did? You know where she went?"

"I think she just went home like she normally does. You need help looking? We can help. I can close since there's not many people here and we can help you."

"No, no, it's okay. My team's on it. Don't want Hermann to chew me out over lost business."

"I'll help," Kelly volunteered. "I'll also call Casey and Brett so if something happened and we need a medic, Brett's there."

God, Jay hadn't even thought about the fact that you might be hurt. He just assumed you had gone out partying.

"Okay, thanks. I'm gonna give Hailey a call and we'll go from there."

"Hailey," Jay started after walking to a secluded part of the bar. "Stella and Kelly both said that they had seen Y/N working at Molly's. And, that she got off work tonight at 10:30 and they assumed she just went home."

"Okay, the team's here. I'm putting you on speaker."

"Kelly said he'd call Brett and Casey to start looking for her, so I guess we just look for her. I don't know where she would've gone." He sighed. If he would've just believed you, this wouldn't have happened. If he would've just let you keep your phone this wouldn't have happened. It was all his fault that he couldn't find you.

"We can't put out a missing persons report yet since it's only been a little over an hour since someone last seen her. We'll meet you there. Start searching. One of us will find you and give you a vest. She couldn't have gotten far."

"Thanks, Sarge."

"Hey, Casey and Brett are on their way. They're stopping by the firehouse to grab jump bags just in case," Kelly said, finding Jay in a secluded corner.

Jay nodded.

"I've got some flashlights in my car," he supplied. "They should help us until your unit and Casey show up with more." He clapped Jay on the back. "We'll find her, man. If she was heading home, she couldn't have gotten far."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, Kelly."

The two walked to his car and grabbed the flashlights. "We'll just start towards the right I guess. That's the quickest way to get home from here if she was walking."

***

"Jay!" Jay turned when he heard Hailey calling his name, running up to him with a vest in her hand.

"Hailey," Jay breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his girlfriend. At least she'd be here with him.

"Here." She handed him the vest. "You have your gun?"

"Yeah. And Severide gave me the flashlight."

"Brett! Casey!" Kelly yelled as he saw two more figures coming toward them, Brett carrying the two jump bags and Casey carrying more flashlights...which weren't needed now that Intelligence was here.

"How are we doing this?" Casey asked.

He looked to Jay, but this wasn't Jay's decision. It was Voight's. And Jay was glad his sergeant had recognized that because there was no way his head was clear enough to put together tactical plans.

"Hailey, Jay, and Severide take the way that you two were previously going. Take a jump bag. Adam, Kim, and Brett start going slightly to the right in a diagonal off of Jay and Hailey. Take a jump bag. Me, Kevin, and Casey will go to the left off of Jay and Hailey. Since there are only two jump bags, if we find her, we'll radio you for it."

"Copy."

The three groups started walking, all their attention on finding you. Jay put his hands in his vest, trying to keep them warm on this cold night. He didn't think he'd be out in the freezing cold searching for you, so he didn't have gloves or a hat with him.

"I, um, I should call Will," Jay said, breaking the silence. "Just to let him know that we're looking for her and that she wasn't lying to us."

"Hey, any sign of her?" Will asked as he picked up his phone on the second ring.

"No. Um, she wasn't lying to us. She was working at Molly's and she went there tonight when you left to go to work."

"And?"

"Stella said that she usually just goes straight home. So, we're looking with some help from Severide, Casey, and Brett."

"We?"

"Intelligence."

"Need me to come help? I'm sure they can find somebody to cover for me."

"No, no. I think we've got it under control. But, if we need more bodies to find her, I'll call you."

"Okay. Find her, Jay. You have to find her."

Jay hung up his phone with those words echoing in his mind. You have to find her. You have to find her.

"What's that?" Hailey asked as they approached a snowbank five minutes later.

"Looks like a glove," Kelly said as he walked closer.

He and Hailey started to slowly climb the snowbank, being careful not to fall through while Jay just stood there. He knew that glove. You had one just like it. But, it had to be a coincidence, right?

"Oh my God," Kelly said as he looked into the small hole in the snowbank, seeing you squished up against the edges, the hand that didn't have a glove blue. Your eyes were closed and your lips were a shade of blue.

"What?" Jay yelled, rushing up the snowbank.

Hailey was quick to stop him. "Jay, I need you to take a step back, okay? We have to get her out of here and we need to be rational about this."

"Get her out of this? Out of the snowbank?" She nodded. "You're telling me she fell into a fucking snowbank and she's stuck, half-frozen to death?"

Hailey nodded. Jay just stood there, staring at the hole you must've been in. Severide laid on his belly and started to reach in when Hailey stopped him.

"No sudden movements. We've gotta get her out slow with minimal movement."

"I know, I'm on squad. But, can you radio Brett for me? We might need her here so that she can take a look at her."

Severide reached in and slowly placed his hands under your armpits. Then, with slow movements, he pulled you out, careful not to jostle your body and pull you straight up and out.

"Jay, can you come and grab her legs? Help me lay her down?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, snapping out of his trance.

He crouched down and grabbed your legs just as Brett, Adam, and Kim came running over.

"Keep her steady," Brett ordered. "No sudden movements." The two boys started to lower you to the ground when Sylvie stopped them. "She can't be in direct contact with the ground. I need something warm on the ground first. A jacket or something."

As soon as Sylvie said that, Adam ripped off his vest and took off his coat. "Will this work?"

"Yeah, that should work. Just set it down and then they can carefully lower her."

They did as the PIC told them.

"I've got a pulse. It's slow but it's there," Sylvie said after she had pressed her fingers to your neck.

Jay crouched down and put his hands over his mouth to stop a sob from tearing through his body.

Somehow though, he found enough of his voice to speak into his radio, "This is 50-21 George. I need you to roll an ambo to my current location. We have a fifteen-year-old female hypothermia victim."

"Okay, whoever can brave the cold and take off your jacket, I need you to do it now. We need to keep her covered until an ambo gets here. Kelly, pass me the warm, dry compress from the jump bag."

While Jay shed his coat and Hailey radioed the rest of the team to let them know that you had been found, Kelly helped Sylvie with the compress. "I'm going to lift her head and then I need you to put the compress under her neck," Sylvie instructed.

"Okay," Kelly said. Sylvie gently lifted your head and Kelly slid the warm compress underneath. Then, he laid your head back down.

She turned to see Jay rummaging through his jump bag, activating two more compresses.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, stepping away from you and to your very worried brother.

"Putting more on her. What does it look like I'm doing?"

She was taken aback by his tone, but didn't take it personally because she'd probably do the same thing if it was her sibling in this situation...and he also wasn't a trained paramedic.

"If you're gonna put one on her, just place it on her chest."

"What about the rest of her body? Her arms? Legs?"

"Jay, I know you're worried about her. But if you put them on her arms or legs, the cold blood will go back towards her heart and lungs, lowering her core temperature even more. We need to try and increase her core temperature, not decrease it."

"Here." He handed her a compress. "For her chest."

"Thank you."

Then, they heard sirens in the distance. Jay just hoped this was enough for now.

***

"Incoming!" Maggie yelled to the already overrun ED. "Fifteen-year-old female, hypothermia. Fell into a snowbank. Used dry, warm compresses in the field, and paramedics put warming blankets on her in the ambo, but they said they need something more than that with how low her core temperature was."

Will ran towards the doors as they opened and revealed the paramedics, followed by none other than his little brother. And, on the gurney, there you were, eyes closed, breathing slowly, a nasal cannula underneath your nose.

"Get her into treatment two," Will said.

"Will, you can't treat her," Maggie said.

"You see another doctor that's free, Maggie?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "I didn't think so. It's not like I'm performing surgery. Hopefully, this will be standard rewarming and shouldn't take that long."

"Fine."

Will entered treatment two just as they moved you from the gurney to the bed. He listened to your heart and determined that that was fine, as were your lung sounds. Then, he moved on to taking your temperature.

"Ninety-three degrees Fahrenheit," Will declared. "Monique, start an IV of one unit of warm saline and we'll get more re-warming blankets."

"Yes, Dr. Halstead."

"Jay," Will said and motioned for him to follow him out of the treatment room. "What happened?" he asked once the two were out of the room.

"We found her in a snowbank. She must've climbed it on the way home and fell in. She couldn't get out. Kelly pulled her out and then Brett came and-- Oh God. If she wasn't there, I could've killed her, Will. I could've killed our little sister."

"Jay, take a breath. She's okay now. She's in good hands. What do you mean you could've killed her?"

"Brett started to get those compress things out and I thought I was helping, so I started getting more. And- and, I almost put them on her legs and arms. If Brett wasn't there to stop me, I could've stopped her heart. God, I could've killed her, Will. It would've been all my fault."

"Jay, listen to me. You didn't do that. So, stop thinking about it. She's fine." He looked up and saw all of Intelligence coming into the ED waiting room along with Brett, Casey, and Severide. "Now, I think you should go tell them that she's gonna be okay. Tell Brett good job for me, too."

Jay nodded and walked away from his older brother, trying to will the tears in his eyes to go away.

"How is she?" Kelly asked when Jay entered the waiting room.

"Her temp is 93, so she's still got a ways to go. But, Will just mentioned standard rewarming, so hopefully, that's a good sign. Brett, he said to tell you good job."

Sylvie nodded and Jay took a seat next to Kelly. He put his head in his hands.

Kelly placed a hand on Jay's shoulder. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. Sounds like it's not anything too serious."

"Yeah, but if I wouldn't have taken her phone or I would've just believed her, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"It's not your fault. She was trying to keep it a secret from you anyway. Wanted to surprise you."

This piqued Jay's interest. "Surprise me? What do you mean?"

"She was saving up money to buy you guys opening night tickets to the Blackhawks next season, that's why she didn't want to tell you because she wanted to surprise you and Will with them."

"God, she was trying to do something nice and I grounded her for it."

"Jay," Hailey started, walking up to him with two cups of coffee, "you did what you were supposed to do with the information you had at the time. This isn't your fault. It was a freak accident. It could've happened to anyone who climbed that snowbank. Hell, it could've happened to us when we climbed it tonight."

"I guess you're right. Thanks for the coffee, babe."

"Wait. Are you two...?" Kelly trailed off.

"Yes, it's no big deal. We signed the HR forms and everything," Hailey answered as Jay sipped his coffee and tried to stop blaming himself for what happened.

***

You slowly opened your eyes and your first thought was I'm cold. Why am I so cold? You pulled the blankets closer to you, but then you realized that they weren't the blankets from your bed, but thick, heated blankets.

"W-What?" You started to talk, but your teeth chattered while doing so.

"You gave us quite the scare earlier," Will said as he walked over with a thermometer. "Now open."

"Why am-am I--"

"Jay can explain all that while this thermometer takes your temperature. Now open and lift up your tongue."

You did as your doctor brother told you and opened your mouth and he placed the thermometer in. You looked at Jay expectantly.

"God, you scared me so much. When I found you in that snowbank..."

"I'm s-sorry," you said with the thermometer still in your mouth. Will gave you a pointed look and you clamped your mouth shut until it beeped.

"Ninety-five. That's the cut-off for me letting you go against medical advice...but lucky for me, you're minor, so me and Jay get to decide when you can go home," Will started after he removed the thermometer. "And, I think we're keeping you here until you reach at least 97."

"Will," you whined.

"Sorry, Y/N. Will's the doctor here, so what he says goes," Jay said.

"Please remember that next time you inevitably end up in here," Will retorted.

"Not a chance." Then, Jay turned back to you. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I know you were just trying to surprise us."

"I was scared," you said. "I thought I was gonna die there."

"I wasn't gonna let that happen. You want me to get you something warm to drink while you tell Will why you were working at Molly's?" You nodded. "Decaf caramel macchiato? No way are you getting caffeine."

"Yes please."

Jay left and Will turned to you. "What were you trying to surprise us with, Short Stack?" he asked, using your nickname.

"I was trying to save up money to get us tickets to the Blackhawks home opener in October." You shivered. "Can I have another blanket. I'm still c-cold." Your teeth chattered once more.

"Of course." He retrieved another heated blanket and wrapped it around you. "Why didn't you tell us you were working at Molly's under the table?"

"I thought you g-guys would be m-mad because it would get in the way of school. So, I d-didn't tell you. I didn't want t-to wreck the surprise. I was-wasn't lying to you when you asked me where I was."

"I know that now. I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. You just have to see it from my and Jay's perspective though. You working was the last thing on our minds, so we just assumed the worst."

Jay came back with your large decaf caramel macchiato. "I got it extra hot."

He went to hand it to you, but you yawned. "I'm t-tired."

"I know you are. It's past one in the morning," Will replied, looking at his watch. "But, I want you to drink at least half of this before you go back to sleep, help you get your core temperature back up."

"Okay." You took the coffee from Jay and set it on the tray in front of you.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for everyth-thing."

"I know. It's okay. I'm just glad you're safe." He pulled your phone from his pocket. "I believe this belongs to you."

You took it from his outstretched hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It'll give you something to pass the time while drinking half of that."

***

"You called in reinforcements?" you hissed at Jay when you, him, and Will walked into the house around 8 am the next morning...well, the same morning, but you considered 1 am to be nighttime.

"Hey!" Jay protested. "They just wanted to see how you were doing. Kelly was the one who actually got you out of the snowbank and Stella was about ready to shut down Molly's to help us look for you."

"I bet Hermann would've been thrilled about that," you said sarcastically.

"That's what I said! And, Hailey's just here because, well, she's Hailey."

"And they love each other," Will chirped, earning himself a smack on the back of the head from Jay and a glare from Hailey. "You guys are no fun!"

"My house, my rules," Jay remarked.

"I thought that only applied to Y/N."

"Nope, applies to you, too. Speaking of Y/N..." Jay trailed off and turned to you. "Go park it on the couch."

"Fine. Just let me go get changed first."

You walked into your room and changed into your favorite pair of joggers and a hoodie along with some kitty cat slippers. You then grabbed your favorite blanket and wrapped it around you and grabbed your phone charger, too. Your temperature was still about one degree below average, but Will and Jay had agreed to let you come home on the condition that you'd just stay on the couch and drink warm beverages and relax.

"Do they meow, too?" Severide asked as you sat on the couch.

"Do what meow?"

"Your slippers. Do they meow?"

"No, no they do not, Kelly. They're just comfy."

"And for a four-year-old," Will chirped.

"Honestly, at this point, I wish you guys would've just left me in that snowbank. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your annoying asses."

"Jay!" Will yelled.

"What?" he hollered back from the kitchen where he and Hailey were busy concocting your mom's famous chicken soup recipe.

"Y/N swore! She needs to put money in the swear jar!"

"The swear jar?" Kelly laughed. "Jay actually does one of those? Because if you could've heard him last night, he'd be putting at least twenty bucks in there."

You smiled at Kelly and made your way into the kitchen, the aroma of chicken soup hitting you immediately.

"Smells good in here," you remarked, causing Jay to turn around from where he was stirring the soup at the stove. Then he moved a few feet and reached up on top of the fridge where the swear jar was located and held it out to you. You shook your head. "No."

"Did you or did you not swear?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Hailey just stood next to him with a small smile on her face and it was clear that she was trying to stop herself from laughing.

"I did, but--"

"No buts. You either did or you didn't."

"Jay, be nice," Hailey scolded. "She just got hypothermia from falling in a snowbank. The least you could do is let her off the hook for swearing."

"Yeah, listen to Hailey. And, Kelly said you swore a lot last night when you were trying to find me, so if I have to put a dollar in there, he said that you should have to put twenty dollars in there."

"That's not how this works. The rule is if you swear around us or we swear around you. And, if I recall correctly, you weren't there because we were freezing our as- our butts off looking for you."

"Ooooh, good catch, Halstead," Hailey laughed. "You almost had to put even more money in the swear jar."

"Even more money? What are you talking about?"

"I'm with Y/N on this one. If you make her put money in, you have to put at least a twenty in for all the swearing you did last night."

"Fine," Jay whined. "You don't have to put any money in, but just this once. Now, would you please let me finish making the soup? And, you need to go lay on the couch."

"I love how Will didn't yell at me for getting up, but you, the non-doctor of the family, are."

"Technically, I didn't yell. Yelling was what I did when I took your phone away."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going, going." You waved him off and headed back to the couch.

"You really suck, Will. Do you know that? At least Kelly and Hailey have my back because if Hailey wasn't in there, he would've made me put money in there."

"Hey, don't blame me. You were the one who said it. I just ratted you out."

"Snitches get stitches."

"I'm the one who actually knows how to perform stitches, you, on the other hand, do not."

"My God," Stella laughed. "It's like watching a reality show seeing you three all in the same room."

"Child," Jay said as he handed you a bowl of chicken soup along with a spoon.

"Good Lord, Jay. I'm fifteen."

"I know. You're still a child though since you're a minor."

"You're a minor," you mocked. "And you both are annoying, so I say we play a game."

"See? Like I said, reality show," Stella reiterated. "What game?"

"Never have I ever." Everyone groaned when you said that. "Hey, I'm the one who was stuck in the hospital, so I think you can all put up with this game."

"Fine," Kelly agreed, and then the others did, too.

"We'll go youngest to oldest," Will stated. "So, you start, Y/N."

You smirked. "Never have I ever gotten married in Vegas."

"Low blow, Y/N!" Jay yelled as both he and Kelly put a finger down and Kelly threw his head back and laughed.

***

Strike Three

That night, you quickly fell asleep. It felt like you had been asleep for hours when in reality it had only been two. You hugged your blankets tighter around your body as you started to shiver. You laid there and tried to fall asleep for who knows how long as a cold sweat started to break out on your forehead, back, and chest. God, you didn't want to get up, but you felt like something was wrong, so you slowly got up--still wrapped in a blanket--and made your way over to the guest bedroom where you knew Will would be sleeping.

"Will," you whispered as you walked into the guest room. He didn't stir. "Will." You tried again, this time louder, and you stepped closer and shook his shoulder.

"Hmmm," he groaned as he rolled over and fluttered his eyelids open. But, the minute he saw it was you, he knew he needed to be awake. "Short Stack?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Are you okay? You don't usually wake me up at night." He sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. Then, he saw your sweaty face. "Are you feeling sick?"

You nodded. "I feel really cold, but I'm sweating."

Will reached over and put the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel a little warm. C'mon, let's go take your temperature. Your legs hurt?"

That was one of the tell-tale signs of you having a fever, your legs hurting.

"Not yet," you answered.

Then, you went to the kitchen--as Will had left the thermometer and his medical bag at the kitchen table--and sat down. You took the thermometer from Will and put it under your tongue.

When it beeped, you took it out and handed it to him. "100.5," he read.

You groaned. "What is going on? First, my temperature was too low and then it stabilized and now it's too high. I just wanna sleep, Will. I'm so tired."

Will shushed you. "The lovebirds are sleeping."

"You know, if Jay heard you say that, he'd hit you, right?"

"Well, good thing he's sleeping. Now, go back to bed and I'll check on you in a few hours. Come get me if your legs start hurting, though."

You nodded and went back to bed. You tossed and turned and tried to get comfortable. You stuck one leg out from under the covers, but then you were too cold, despite half your body still being covered, so you settled on just letting your foot stick out. But, after forty-five minutes of that, you got super cold again and got up to retrieve the extra blanket you had set of the chair of your desk.

The first thing that you noticed when you stood up was how much your legs ached.

"Shit," you muttered.

You grabbed a blanket from your bed and wrapped it around you and grabbed the one from your desk chair and did the same thing. Then, you walked down the hall and to the guest bedroom.

"Will," you whispered as you poked your head in the room.

"Yeah?" he asked as he rolled over and turned on the lamp. He must not've fallen back to sleep after you had woken him up the first time.

"My legs hurt."

"Okay, let's go back to the kitchen and re-take your temperature, see if it went up."

You nodded tiredly as he got out of bed.

"You gonna fall over? Need me to help you get to the kitchen?" he asked as he approached you still standing in the doorway.

"No, I think I can walk," you answered.

You made it to the kitchen without falling over and then took a seat at the spot you had been just an hour ago. You stuck the thermometer in your mouth once more and waited for it to beep.

Will was rummaging around through the cupboard--and making a lot of noise, so he'd probably be the one who ended up waking the lovebirds up as he liked to call them--so you read the reading on the thermometer to him. "101.1 Went up point six degrees."

"Ah, found it." He grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and filled a glass of water and handed the two things to you. "Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna take this, drink the entire glass of water and I mean the entire glass, and then you're gonna take a lukewarm bath. Hopefully, that'll lower your temperature."

You nodded, your eyelids heavy. You did as you were told and then handed him the pill bottle. When he closed the cupboard, his hand slipped, resulting in the door of it slamming shut and it echoing throughout the house.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Swear jar," you whispered.

"Yeah, yeah," Will replied with a way of his hand. "I don't keep money in my pajamas, so I'll put a dollar in, in the morning."

"The hell was that?" Jay asked loudly, rushing into the kitchen with his gun raised.

Will threw his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Whoa, man! Don't point that thing at me! What do you think I'm trying to do? Rob you?"

Jay set his gun on the counter. "Sorry about that. What are you two doing up? It's--" He checked the time on the microwave. "--2:11 in the morning." Will motioned towards you. "Did her temperature drop or something?"

"It didn't drop, it increased."

"Well, that's good, right?"

"It was good when she hit the average temperature, but now she's got a fever of 101.1."

"Shit."

"Swear jar...for both of you."

Jay groaned and Hailey entered the kitchen. After explaining to her what was going on, she offered to help you into the bath because your legs were so achy.

But, you knew that Will would want to periodically check on you even if Hailey was in there, so you changed into a pair of spandex, a sports bra, and a crappy tank top while Will started the bath.

"Have her stay in here for about twenty minutes and then I'll be back in to check her temperature," Will told Hailey and then he retreated back to the kitchen to talk to his brother.

Hailey knocked on your bedroom door and you said she could come in. "How do you want to do this?" she asked. "Want me to keep you steady on the way to the bathroom, or do you just need help getting the tub?"

"Just need help getting in," you told her. But, as you walked out of your room, down the hall, and into the bathroom, she stayed right next to you in case she needed to catch or steady you.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Jay was feeling like an idiot with all the medical talk Will was doing.

"So, how'd she get a fever if she was just in the hospital with hypothermia less than 24 hours ago?" Jay asked.

"It's the rebound effect. It's rare, but it's a pathophysiological thing where some people get pyrexia after hypothermia especially if ischemia occurs."

Jay blinked rapidly. "English please?"

Will sighed, he sometimes forgot that people around him didn't know all the medical terminology like the back of their hand like he did. "It's a rebound effect, which is rare. And, it's when there's a disordered process in the body after a disease or injury. In Y/N's case, it's a disordered process that's happening in her body after her temperature had regulated after the hypothermia. So, some people get a fever--which in the medical world is called pyrexia--when ischemia happens, which is a fancy for an organ not getting enough blood supply. Didn't you say that Y/N had a faint pulse when you found her?"

"Yeah," Jay answered. "Brett took her pulse once we pulled her out and she said it was slow."

"Okay, so because the heart was pumping slower, it meant that less blood was circulating, which could mean there was less blood to her other organs, so we could be looking at ischemia."

"Could?"

"That, or she could have a mild case of pneumonia. That happens more with patients who are treated for hypothermia. Ischemia happens more in patients whose hypothermia went untreated for a longer amount of time."

"But, I didn't hear her cough at all."

"You can have pneumonia without a cough. It's not common, but it can still happen. We just have to wait and see if she starts hacking up a lung or if her fever gets up to 103, then we'll bring her in."

"Hey guys," Hailey said as she walked into the kitchen. "We have a problem."

Jay's eyes widened and he sprinted to the bathroom, ever the overprotective brother. Will retrieved his medical bag and followed him.

"You have got to be kidding me," Jay whispered. "It takes her like half an hour on average to fall asleep each night, but she falls asleep in ten minutes here? In the bathtub of all places? What do we do?"

"We have no choice but to wake her up," Will said.

"But she's been saying she's so tired."

"I know, but we can't let her sleep in the bathtub."

"You said what, twenty minutes before you have to take her temperature again?" Hailey asked and Will nodded. She checked the timer on her phone. "She's got a bit more than seven minutes left. How about we just let her sleep until the timer goes off and then we wake her up, take her temperature, and get her back to bed?"

"That is actually a good plan. And, not getting her out of the tub until the timer goes off could help her fever go down a bit more."

"I'm full of good ideas," Hailey joked.

Seven minutes later, you squeezed your eyes tightly shut and then opened them when you heard the sound of an alarm go off. "Hmmm. What happened?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your wet hands.

"You fell asleep is what happened," Will answered. "Now open."

"But I'm in the bathtub. How did I..." you trailed off. "Oh."

"And I thought Jay was terrible at remembering things," Will chirped.

"Shut up. My body's fighting something. My energy isn't going to my memory or common sense at the moment."

You put the thermometer in your mouth and waited until it beeped for the third time tonight. Then, you handed it to Will.

"101.1 still," he read. "No change. Are you feeling any better worse? Legs hurt more or less?"

"I feel the same. I don't know about my legs because I'm sitting down."

"Here," Hailey said holding an arm out. "Grab on to me and I'll help you. Can one of you grab a towel?"

Jay went to the closet to grab a towel and you grabbed on to Hailey's arm. As you stood up, your legs ached a bit, but not more or less than before. But, you were only standing up. You hadn't taken a step yet.

You placed a foot on the ground and walked a few steps to where Jay was standing, holding a towel out to you. As you took those steps, you felt the familiar ache in your calves. It was stronger than it had been when you had gotten in bath.

God, it was like someone was rolling a rolling pin up and down your calves and pressing it into your muscles.

"Will," you whined once you had successfully wrapped the towel around your wet body. "It hurts. My legs hurt so bad."

Will all but shoved Jay out of the way and crouched down a bit. "Tilt your head back for me." You did as he said and Will moved his fingers to feel around your neck, specifically in the area of your lymph nodes. "Quite a bit more swollen than I would've liked to see them, but we'll check back in the morning. Any sore throat, coughing?"

"No, I just feel hot and cold and--" you stifled a yawn "--tired."

"Lean on me and then Hailey can help you get changed. If that's okay with you?" Will asked, turning his attention from you to Hailey.

"It's no problem."

"And then you can go right back to bed."

"Okay," you mumbled. And then, slowly but surely, you got down the hallway and into your bedroom.

Once you were changed, both of your brothers came in, Will bearing the disgusting "bubblegum" flavored liquid Benadryl and a small cup with blue liquid. Jay held a water bottle and a bowl.

"I know I gave you Tylenol about an hour and a half ago," Will started, "but, it was a low dose and since your fever didn't drop at all in the bath, I'm going to need you to take this."

He held the tube that contained the thick pink liquid out to you. "No," you whined. "Just give me more Tylenol."

"Y/N, this will make you tired so that you're able to sleep. And, Jay's out of Nyquil, so this was the only option I had. Please, just take it. You can chase it with this blue Gatorade I stole from Jay."

"You didn't steal it...this time. I let you have some," Jay clarified.

"Whatever. Point is, just please take the medicine."

"Fine," you mumbled and took the tube from him. You downed the medicine and made a face, immediately reaching for the Gatorade to wash the nasty taste out of your mouth. "That was gross."

"Sorry," Will apologized.

"Here's some water and a bowl in case you have to throw up," Jay told you as he set them on your bedside table.

"I don't feel nauseous."

"It's just a precaution. Now, we're gonna go back to bed. Need anything else?"

"No. Goodnight guys. 'Night Hailey. Thanks for helping me change. Probably would've fallen over if you weren't here to help."

***

"It's 10 am," Will said as he stood up from the couch the next morning. "I'm gonna go wake her up."

"Shouldn't we just let her sleep if she's sick?" Jay asked. "Thought you'd know that much since you're the doctor."

"Shut up. I have to take her temperature again. That Benadryl must've really knocked her out."

"It'll do that to you. Why do you think Mom would give it to us the night before school started? So we could sleep."

"Aww, did you guys get nervous?" Hailey joked.

"No. You know how most parents have their kids start to go to bed earlier about a week to two weeks before school starts back up?" Hailey nodded. "Yeah, our parents didn't do that. We just took some Benadryl and then we slept like babies and were well-rested for school," Jay explained.

"Well, I'm gonna go check on Y/N. Be back in a bit."

Will walked into your room to see you still fast asleep with your arm hanging off the bed. As he got closer, he noticed some discoloration on it...right where the IV had been.

"Shit," he muttered. He lightly touched your shoulder, causing you to stir a little. "Short Stack." You groaned. "Short Stack, you gotta wake up. It's past ten and I need to take your temperature."

You rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed. Then, you pulled your right arm close to you. Without looking at it, you started to scratch it.

"No!" Will grabbed your arm.

"Why? It's itchy." Then you looked down at it and saw that it was all red and had little bumps on it. It looked a little bit swollen, too. "Why's it look like that?" You shivered and pulled the blankets up around you.

"Still cold?" You nodded. "Legs still hurt?" You nodded once more. "But, to answer your question, it could be an infection from the IV. Or you could be having an allergic reaction to the meds...but we only gave you warm saline, so that wouldn't happen."

"Is that bad? And, can you take my temp--" Your teeth chattered from shivering. "--temperature so I can go back to sleep?"

"Yeah, don't know if you're gonna be able to go back to sleep." You reached for your arm to start itching the IV site, when Will clamped his hand around the spot. "No. You can't itch it. Because, if there's an infection in it, I don't want you tearing the skin and getting it even more infected."

"Then put some anti-itch cream on it from your medical bag. I'm sure you have some in there."

"I have some, but I don't know what you have, so I don't know how it will react. But, I can put some medical tape on it."

You rubbed your eyes and threw your blanket off of you. "Why am I so hot? I was just super cold two seconds ago."

"Because you have a fever. I know it sucks, but I need you to hold your arm out to me so I can tape it up."

You held your arm out and reluctantly allowed him to tape it.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I can make you something cold like a smoothie?" You shook your head. You didn't want anything cold. "Please? I'll make you a small one and I won't put any spinach in it. I know Jay puts spinach in them and it's huge and you have to drink the whole thing."

"Fine," you sighed. "Can you put mango chunks in it?"

"I can do that. No itching."

You sat on your bed and tried to go back to sleep, but you were stopped when Will came back in. He didn't lie. The smoothie was small and from the color you could tell he put mango chunks in it. He also held a thermometer.

"Before you drink this, I need to take your temperature."

You took the thermometer from him and waited for it to beep. And, you made the mistake of looking at the numbers when you took it out of your mouth. "Is this bad?" you asked as you held it to your oldest brother, your eyes going wide. "Am I gonna die?"

Will looked at the thermometer. "102.7 is high, but you aren't going to die. But, since your arm is itchy and it broke out in a rash at the IV site, I'm bringing you in. Drink your smoothie and then Hailey will be in to help you change." You opened your mouth to protest, but Will held up a hand to stop you. "And, yes, Hailey's going to help you because I don't want you falling over."

You nodded and picked up the smoothie. And, Will went back to tell your brother and Hailey what was going on.

"She getting better?" Jay asked as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

"Worse."

"Worse?" He set his coffee cup down and turned his full attention to Will. Hailey, who had been sitting at the table eating a banana, turned her attention to him as well.

"I think she has an infection at her IV site, which could be what is causing her fever. Her fever's 102.7 right now. I gave her a smoothie and I told her after she finishes that, that Hailey can help her change, and then she can get ready and we can go."

"Shouldn't we go now?" Jay asked.

"She's still fully conscious, not delirious, so I think that we can let her wash her face and brush her teeth before we leave. If she starts acting that way, we'll leave earlier. For now, I think it's okay as long as someone's with her when she's doing these things just because of how sore her legs are so she doesn't fall over."

"Alright. Second hospital visit in 36 hours? Med needs to give us Halsteads a frequent flyer card."

***

"Jay, do remember anyone else who gave Y/N an IV other than Monique? Monique's the short blond nurse, looks younger than she actually is." Will asked as he, Jay, and Hailey were sitting in the waiting area while you got your blood drawn.

Jay looked up at the ceiling and scrunched up his face. "Uh, I know there was someone else. I just don't remember the name or what they looked like." He closed his eyes and thought for a few more seconds, trying to conjure up an image. "Oh! It was a kid."

"A kid?" Will asked. "Man, I don't think you slept enough last night."

"Kid as in he was younger than us. He said he was a med student."

"Any more details? Know what he looked like?"

"Jeez, Jay. I think we might have another Halstead detective on our hands. He might even be better than you," Hailey joked.

"Babe, you're supposed to stroke my ego, not crush it," Jay replied with a fake pouty face. "But, to answer your question, second detective Halstead, the kid was white, kinda scrawny."

"Okay, I'm gonna go check with Earl, see if I can get him to pull up the security footage from two nights ago. You remember what time the med student came in?"

"Two, three in the morning maybe? I was in and out at that point."

"Okay, thanks. Be right back. And, Y/N should be coming out soon. I got Mags to draw her blood just to know it would be done right. And, according to Monique, she's got really small veins."

"And this matters because...?" Jay probed.

"She might have to draw her blood from the big vein in her forearm, not one in the crook of her arm. But, Mags is good at this, so hopefully, she won't have to. Be back soon. Text me if they put her in a room."

"Got it." Jay turned back to Hailey. "How was she this morning? You know, when you helped her change?"

"She said her legs were sore. I had to help her get into her jeans and even help her get out of her t-shirt and into the shirt she's wearing now because, when she put her arms up, she said that they hurt to stay up...especially the right one, which is the one Will taped because she kept trying to itch it."

"So, her entire body is sore basically?"

"Essentially."

***

"Hey, Earl," Will greeted as he walked into the security office.

"Doctor Halstead, what can I do for you? And, why are you in your street clothes? Heading out early?" Earl asked, spinning around in his chair to face Will.

"No, I actually had to bring my little sister in because I think she got an infection from her IV. I was wondering if you could pull up the security footage of the ED two nights ago around two, three in the morning? My little brother, Jay, said that a med student changed her IV around that time and I need to find out who it was."

"So you can fire him?"

Will chuckled. "I don't have the kind of authority, Earl, and you know this. Only Ms. Goodwin can fire someone. I just need to know who it was so I can tell her what happened."

"If you say so." Earl started pressing buttons on his computer until he got to the ED and the specific timeframe Will mentioned. "Any specific room?"

"She was in treatment two I think."

Earl nodded and continued pressing a few buttons. Then, he played it in fast forward and told Will to tell him when to stop.

"There." Will pointed at the screen when he saw a med student, whom he didn't even know the name of, changing your IV. "Can you back up a few minutes? Just so I can watch and see what actually happened?"

Earl did and Will started to watch the footage. "You've got to be kidding me," he mumbled as he pieced together what happened.

This med student had came from a room where he had given another IV and had missed the vein. He wiped some of the blood away with his gloved fingers and then patted the blood dry on the patient's IV site and then bandaged it. But, he walked into your treatment room without changing his gloves. Then, he went right on to changing your IV. And, since you had small veins, he missed the first time, causing a tiny bit of blood to come out of your vein. He wiped it away with the same finger he had wiped the previous patient's blood with, with the same glove which contained a smear of said previous patient's blood.

Whatever that patient had, Will was fairly certain that you now had it, too.

***

"What's the verdict?" Will asked when he got back into the waiting room and saw you, Maggie, Hailey, and Jay.

"She has Mono," Maggie said.

You yawned and turned to Will. "And can you please tell him--" you thumbed towards Jay "--that I haven't been--" You yawned again. "--making out with a bunch of boys because he keeps asking for names."

Will let out a small laugh. "Well, it is caused by swapping spit mostly, but Y/N got it because that dumbass med student didn't change his gloves when he came in to change her IV."

"Wow, she must really be tired," Jay remarked. "She didn't even mention the swear jar."

"Just get me a snack on the way out and we'll be even." You put your arm on the armrest of the chair and laid your head on your hand.

"I don't know if you'll be awake to get that snack, Short Stack."

"How long until I'm not tired?"

"Symptoms should clear up in two weeks at the earliest, a month at the latest," Maggie answered. She turned her attention to Jay. "I know Will will probably tell you this too, but I'll tell you now. Even though it came from an IV, it's still technically a viral infection, so there's no antibiotics for it. The best course of treatment is just rest and fluids. And, if she's achy or her throat gets sore or the rash persists, ibuprofen will do just fine."

"Can I put itch cream on this?" you mumbled, motioning to your bandage on your right arm. Maggie had to draw blood from your left arm since the right one was bandaged up. Hopefully, you wouldn't get a rash on this one, too. But, you trusted Maggie and knew that she was the best nurse in all of Chicago Med, probably all of Chicago even.

"Yes, you can do that."

"Thank God."

"You know this med student's name, Will?" Maggie asked.

"No, but I had Earl pull up the security footage so I could figure out what happened. I'm sure he could go back so you could take a look at him and tell him off. Or talk to Goodwin."

"You want him fired?"

"I wouldn't go that far. But, he needs to be held accountable. And, Mags, don't take this the wrong way, but you're scary when you're angry."

"So is Jay," you mumbled, cracking your eyes open for a few seconds.

"Okay, Short Stack the Secret Spiller," Jay joked, "let's get you home before you tell Maggie everybody's business in this family."

***

2 and a half weeks later:

"God, I forgot how nice it is to not have to take a nap," you said as you sat on the couch reading a book for your English class.

"I will say, it was nice to have some peace and quiet around here," Jay said as he handed you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Thank you. And, I'm am not that loud!"

He snorted. "Yeah right."

"At least I don't have PDA with my girlfriend when my little sister's in the room."

"In my defense, I thought you were taking a nap."

"So, you and Hailey decided to have a full-on makeout session--which probably would've progressed into something more had I not come out of my room to get a glass of water--on the couch instead of in your bedroom where you can lock the door. Sounds a little suspicious to me."

"We would've--you know what, never mind. You don't need to know."

You were about to try and get him to tell you when you figured it was probably about sex. "Yeah, I don't need to know. You two are nasty."

"Keep thinking that way until you're thirty." You rolled your eyes and took a bite of your sandwich. "How much more you have to read?"

"Five pages. Why?"

"We have to be at Molly's in an hour."

"Why?"

"We just have to be there, okay? And, wear your Hawks jersey."

Technically, it was Jay's old Brent Seabrook jersey, but he got a new one with Toews' name on the back, so he gave it to you. It was in good condition. The only caveat was that the jersey went down to your knees; you practically drowned in that thing. But, you didn't have to pay for it, so you'd take it.

"Why?"

"Just do it. And, no more questions. This is starting to sound like an interrogation."

***

"Why are you wearing your Hawks jersey?" you asked Jay as you walked into the living room forty-five minutes later.

"What did I just tell you? No more questions, kid. No more questions."

Then, there was a knock on the door and Will entered, sporting a Duncan Keith jersey. "Okay, so we're going to Molly's...in Hawks jerseys...but there's no game on tonight. I'm thoroughly confused."

"And that's how we want you," Will joked.

You rolled your eyes. "I just want to know what I'm walking into."

"And you will," Jay started, "...when we walk into Molly's. Now, c'mon, let's go."

When you got to Molly's it looked like any normal day from the outside. But, then you opened the door.

"Surprise!"

Inside the bar was all of firehouse 51, some people from Med, and all of Intelligence plus Trudy. But, the stars of the show were Duncan Keith and Brent Seabrook, stars of the Chicago Blackhawks, who stood in the middle of the bar.

"How did you-- What-- How?" you stammered, trying to piece together everything with a gigantic smile growing on your face.

"Kelly's pretty great," Jay supplied. "He knew that you were saving up for tickets. So, he called Clarke, who just so happens to be really good friends with these guys."

"And he explained everything," Seabrook walked up to you and volunteered. "I gotta say, going behind your cop brother's back to save up for tickets takes some guts."

"Yeah," you agreed. You were talking to a famous NHL player? What did you even say?

"You excited for the game tomorrow?" Duncan Keith asked.

"It's a rivalry game? Who wouldn't be excited?"

"Well, lucky for you, I just happen to have three center-ice lower bowl seats for tomorrow's game. And a season ticket holder package for you and your brothers to meet the team."

"For-For me? Are you being serious?"

"Hey, someone who falls into a snowbank and then gets sick just from trying to get tickets, well, that's the least you deserve."

"You know, if my cop brother would've just believed me when I told him I was here, I wouldn't have fallen in that snowbank."

"Hey, I would've been worried, too."

"See, Y/N? Even Duncan Keith agrees with me!"

You smiled and rolled your eyes at Jay. "You have a sharpie?" you asked him. "I need to get this jersey signed."

And, while Jay had a good reason for implementing the three strikes rule, after that whole fiasco he was reluctant to take your phone away. Because this could've all been avoided if Jay believed you and hadn't taken your phone away. But, you got Blackhawks tickets out of it...and you got to meet the whole team, so it wasn't all bad.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Sorry, I haven't updated in a while, school has been very hectic. But, the good news is I'm done in two weeks and then have a six-week break, so hopefully, I'll be able to crank out a bunch of Seasons of PD/Med then. Anyway, thanks for reading! I did a ton of medical research for this imagine, so if anything's inaccurate, I blame google or the research articles I read. Also, please like/reblog and comment! I love hearing what you guys think! As always, if you want to be added to my tag list, just tell me and I’d be happy to add you!

Taglist:

@theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[aftgandotherbooks]

Father-Son Bonding

Kevin only knew about his mum from what he heard about Tetsuji telling him (which is almost nothing really) and barely remembers her himself. What’s worse is that he knows nothing about Wymack and his past. A few years after Kevin graduated, he decided to visit his dad for the Christmas holidays. Wymack was a man of habit and still lived in that one room apartment near Palmetto university, which meant that Kevin unfortunately had to sleep on the couch for the week. One night of an especially bad nightmare of Riko, Kevin moved to the kitchen to make coffee since he wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep again. Coincidentally it was also around the time Wymack usually wakes up to go out for his morning smoke. After a short and gruff “‘morning” *nod* “‘morning” *nod* exchange, both men headed out to the front porch. It was the long stretches of quiet that Kevin appreciated the most from being around his father. After spending years around people who always had something to gossip or complain about, the comfortable silences he shared with his father were a blessing. After an hour of bliss, Wymack looked over at Kevin and saw deep dark purple bags under his eyes and a surge of concern welled up in his gut. He cleared his throat and nudged his son’s shoulder, asking “couldn’t sleep?” Kevin, transfixed by the quiet morning air jumped at the sound of his father’s voice. “Yeah, um. Nightmare” he muttered, looking down at his hands that were fidgeting with the string of his pyjama pants. Wymack sighed and looked out onto the grass and birds singing their wake-up songs to the rest of the world. He nodded his head and looked back to his son. “That’s one thing that never seems to leave you alone. I had a bad one before you came. I could barely leave my bed for two days.” Wymack huffed. Kevin looked up to his father in shock. He always knew Wymack had a troublesome upbringing, but he never mentioned it. Of course, he knew something must have happened, otherwise the foxes and their reputation of ‘second-chances’ would have never even existed. However, Kevin would have never known his father was still affected by it to this day. As morbid as it sounded, it was comforting knowing that his father was struggling the same as him. Kevin had never asked about his dad’s past. Mostly because Wymack made an active effort to stay out of Kevin’s personal business after he graduated because the other Foxes had a tendency to go too far whenever Riko or the nest were mentioned. Kevin respected the fact that Wymack refused to be like that. But before that morning, Wymack never spoke of his own burdens. He barely spoke about Kevin’s mum, the pain of her absence too painful most of time for Kevin. That’s why Kevin asked “you don’t have to answer me but… what happened? Does it have something to do with mum?” Wymack was quiet for a few minutes. Kevin started to think that his dad would ignore the question altogether. But then with a quiet sigh, Wymack put out his cigarette and turned to face Kevin. “Look kid, I know you’ve been through too much shit in your life, and I wish there was a way that I could have known and stopped it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I knew you before Riko got his hands on you. The point is, I didn’t want to put more shit on you that you don’t need. But... I guess it’s only fair you know more about me. I am your dad afterall.” Kevin nodded, hearing the solemn tone Kevin was too familiar with. The same tone was used whenever Wymack was faced with another kid with a messed up childhood. Wymack then closed his eyes, breathed slowly and methodically and squeezed his hands into fists for a minute or two. It reminded Kevin of the breathing exercises Betsy taught him when he was plagued with the anxiety attacks that came with his sobriety. With a neutral and emotionless tone, Wymack started speaking. “I was in prison for a year before I met your mother.” Kevin’s face snapped to Wymack’s. He opened his mouth to say something when Wymack held up his finger to shut him up. Wymack continued speaking. “I had just turned 18 and thought it was a good idea to get in a car with my drunk best friend after we left a graduation party one of our other friends held t their house. I only had one drink that night, I didn’t see the point of drinking. My old man was in a shit mood that morning and would have punched and kicked me to hell and back if I came home 10 at night, drunk. I kept going on about how I should drive since I barely had anything to drink, but he was too stubborn and I just wanted to get home early enough. So, my friend ended up driving, and we were blasting music, all that typical stuff teens do when they’re young and too stupid to care. It only took a second of us not paying attention that a kid crossed the road to fetch a ball. What sane kid plays with a ball at ten at night?” Wymack rolled his eyes. “anyway, I saw the kid before my friend did and grabbed the wheel to swerve it to the opposite side the kid was on. It just so happened that the car swerved too far and the road was still slippery from the storm we had a few hours before. And can I just say kid, the moment the car swerved and smashed into the light pole I knew we were screwed.” Kevin’s eyes were starting to water. It wasn’t at all what he was expecting. His father went to prison? “My friend, Alex, he died on impact. He was on the side the pole smashed into. I only got away with a bruised right leg, a broken arm and severe whiplash. The kid was fine. It was actually his mom that called an ambulance for us. When I told the cops what happened, they said that even though I saved the kid, what I did was technically manslaughter. That’s why I was sent to prison. My sentence was way shorter though ‘cause I barely had alcohol in my system, and Alex was way over the limit, so he was at fault for the reckless driving. Plus, the fact that my intentions were to save the kid, not to kill-” Wymack took a shuddering breath. “Not to kill Alex.” Kevin grabbed his dads tight fist and squeezed it. “Dad, you don’t have to keep going”. Kevin said, he could see his father’s defences slowly crumbling. But Wymack, the stubborn and persistent old man he was, shook his head and kept going. “Prison was… prison. Not a fun place, and there were things that I would rather never think or talk about. And when I got out of prison, I had nowhere to go. My old man used my sentence as an excuse to stop speaking to me again. Useless pig he was probably celebrated the day I left. My mom, well she’s been dead since I was 13, breast cancer. I’ve always wondered what she would have done about it all. So, I had nowhere to go, and no one to run to. I was working at a run-down diner because that was the only place that would take in a fresh out of prison convict. It was just a few yards off from where your mom lived. Her and Tetsuji would meet up every Saturday at my diner to grab lunch and work on the specifics of how Exy should be played. I always tried to be the one who would serve her, and then we traded numbers and started talking. We got real close for a few years until she asked me to join her first trial team for Exy. She’s the one who got me a job at Palmetto when I told her I wanted to expand the sport to other universities. She gave me the chance to move forward in my life when no one else would.” Wymack opened his eyes and looked at Kevin again. “She reminds me so much of you kid. Every time I look at you I see her commitment and passion.” Kevin looked down to their hands again, and smiled a watery smile. “Thanks dad. All I ever wanted to do was make her proud of me.” Wymack huffed again and said “I’m sure she is… I know cause I sure am.”

A.N: I have no idea how the criminal system works. Nor do I know how long, or even if Wymack would have been charged. I also haven’t read the books since last year so my knowledge of Wymack’s history is limited to other fanfics, so if I got anything wrong, I’m sorry. This is just my interpretation of how Wymack’s character and his personality were formed :)

[whumpkeys]

Blood Brothers (9-1-1 Lonestar Fic)

After an incident on a call leaves Carlos and Judd injured, TK has some guilt to look through. CW: Canon-typical violence, gun violence, drug mention.

It was a normal call. Or at least it was supposed to be. Dispatch had mentioned a simple car accident on the freeway with a possible missing kid. Nothing more, nothing less. They had found the kid and gotten four of the five people out of the cars with limited injuries and no deaths so far. The police were only really there for traffic control. Everything was going fine and overall, it was the kind of call that would no doubt be celebrated later with a night at the bar. Until Paul noticed something.

While Judd knew that he wasn’t as observant as Paul was, he was also far from oblivious. The sudden stiffening and look of concentration on Paul’s face betrays the fact that he had noticed something, though it wasn’t clear exactly what he’d noticed. It never was. Not until he did some fancy Sherlock Holmes type deduction and blew everyone away. Then it just seemed painfully obvious and left Judd with the thought that this is what Watson must feel like. A quick glance around reveals the fact that Judd isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Marjan and the probie were sharing a look of confusion and glee, clearly excited to see what it was that Paul had discovered.

Judd wasn’t immune to the lure of the trick either. Though he tries to remain outwardly uninterested, he still watches out of the corner of his eye as the other man approaches the truck, walking with purpose. Just as Paul’s about to make his first comment or ask his first question, something else catches Judd’s eye and he turns his head, recognizing the all-too-familiar glint as sunlight reflects off the long barrel of a shotgun. Judd follows it with his eyes, his heart stopping for a moment when he realizes who it was pointing at. TK wasn’t paying attention, of course, too busy chatting it up with his little cop boyfriend.

“Gun!” Judd’s shouting the warning almost immediately as he takes off towards the boy, knocking him to the ground just as the gun fires with a loud bang. The two of them land on the ground, Judd on top of TK, and he can only groan as TK shouts in surprise, asking what the hell was going on. Judd wants to answer. Really, he does. But just at that moment, the pain hits.

It’s a burning, searing pain that seems to spread out from his shoulder and throughout his entire body. He can hear somebody letting out a string of foul curses, ones that would get him smacked upside the head if Grace heard him saying, and it takes him a moment longer than it should for him to realize that it was him cussing up a storm and not some poor bystander. Judd tries to get up but his arms feel like Jell-O and refuse to follow his commands. All he can do is groan and hope he isn’t crushing poor TK under him.

As much as he liked to portray himself as this fearless, tough-guy cowboy, he was only human. He was susceptible to pain. And this shit? It hurt like a mother. Through the haze of pain and confusion, he can feel two people shifting him onto one of the stretchers. His arm moves at the same time that the pain spikes and a numb feeling shoots through his arm before making his entire body burn like it was on fire. He barely gets a strangled scream out before he's passing out on the stretcher.

~~~

Owen didn’t think he would ever be as scared as he had been when he found TK that night before moving to Austin. The stone-cold terror he’d felt when he’d found his son laying on the ground, cold as a corpse and not breathing, wasn’t something that was going to be easy to top. But the fear he feels when he sees the barrel of a gun pointed at him while he’s so clearly distracted definitely comes close.

“TK!” he yells, though it’s immediately drowned out by a louder shout, warning them about the gun. Owen freezes for just a moment, seeing a blur tackle TK to the ground just as the gun goes off. And that’s when everything goes to shit. Carlos is knocked aside in the commotion, his head hitting the edge of the truck and knocking him out, and TK himself doesn’t seem to come out unscathed despite what Owen is now considering divine intervention of some sort.

Owen forces himself forwards on unsteady legs, dropping to his knees beside the two. Michelle was already with Carlos, helping him to sit up and drink some water. For a moment, Owen’s convinced that he’s the only one who had seen this. The only one who knows what had happened. But his theory is quickly disproven when Paul and Marjan are there all of a sudden, helping him move Judd onto a stretcher. The cowboy was shouting out foul curses, causing most of the bystanders to cover their children's ears and look utterly scandalized. When he passes out, Owen finds that the silence is much worse.

TK hadn’t gotten up yet, which Owen was trying not to find concerning. He’s still laying on the pavement, curling up in the fetal position and not moving.“TK? TK, are you okay? TK!”

TK’s response is fairly quick and Owen just about sags in relief. “I’m fine. Just sore ribs. Think Judd broke ‘em. What was that all about anyway?” he asks, sitting up with one arm wrapped around his chest, a slight wince on his face.

Owen watches as the ambulance pulls away with Judd and Carlos inside and just shakes his head. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

“Dad? It’s not that bad, seriously. I’m fine.”

“TK, it’s not for you.”

It takes a few seconds but the look on TK’s face when he finally realizes what had just happened makes Owen wish that he’d just invented some kind of elaborate lie or something to cover up the whole thing. He knew it was illogical but the urge to protect his son from any more hurt was there, overpowering any logic or rational thought. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

~~~

They arrive at the hospital shortly after. Despite what he’d been told, about the trip not being for him, his dad had still made him get checked out. The whole way to the hospital, he’d been hunched over with his arms wrapped around his chest and Owen had been understandably concerned. A few moments after arriving, he's diagnosed with cracked ribs. After being told about caring for his ribs, they head into the waiting room to find Carlos sitting in the corner with an ice pack to his head and a pink emesis bin in his lap. He glances up when the two walk in, giving TK a small, pained smile. TK immediately glances away.

From what he’d been told, this whole thing was his fault. If he had been paying attention to the call instead of hanging out with his boyfriend when they were both working, then he would have seen the gun. He would have ducked or moved or done something other than just stand there like a lovesick dork. Judd wouldn’t be in surgery. Carlos wouldn’t be sitting there in obvious pain.

TK knew he had a bad habit of internalizing things and blaming himself. His dad told him practically every time it happened. But in this case, he was certain that it was his fault. How could it not be? He had been standing there, flirting with his boyfriend while everyone else was working hard. Judd had been right, he was slacking. And now he was paying the price for TK’s mistake.

Before he even has a chance to try and stop it, a strangled sob escapes him, and just like that, the dam he’d oh so carefully constructed breaks. He sits there, in the cold, cramped hospital chair, with his legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees as loud sobs wracked his body. The fabric on his knees is getting wet with his tears but he can’t bring himself to care. With everything else happening, it doesn’t seem to matter that much. He feels somebody’s arm wrap around him, pulling him into their side with a quiet, “Oh, TK.”

He recognizes his dad’s voice and the feeling of his chest. Briefly, he’s reminded of the time when he was a kid and he’d had a nightmare. He’d stood over his dad’s bed for nearly ten minutes before Owen had woken up. His dad had later told him that he’d scared the shit out of him. But after that, he’d just hugged him and held him close. He had rubbed his hair like he was doing now and he’d told him that everything was going to be okay. That whatever had happened was just a dream and it couldn’t hurt him. The mantra was different today. Today, his dad was assuring him that what happened wasn’t his fault. “Everything will be okay. It wasn’t your fault, TK, these things happen. Judd’s gonna be fine. Carlos is—”

“I’m fine,” Carlos pipes up, though his voice is tinged with hurt. TK can’t tell if it’s from the concussion or TK ignoring him. Either way, he had caused it. It was his fault.

“Tyler Kennedy, you listen to me.” TK hadn’t realized he had been speaking out loud. “This was not your fault. Okay?”

“But Carlos got— and Judd he—”

“They’re fine, TK. Right now, I’m more worried about you.” Owen lowers his voice, leaning in closer to his son. “How are you feeling? Any… urges?”

TK sighs, rolling his eyes and looking up at his dad. “I’m not a werewolf, you know, and I’m not made of glass either. I’m not gonna- I’m not going to OD again, okay? That was… it was a one-time thing. Not every issue is going to break me, okay? Okay, dad?”

“I know,” Owen tells him, a small smile on his face. “I know. I’m just worried, okay?”

“Yeah, well you don’t have to be.”

“It’s kind of my job, TK.”

TK feels a small spark of inexplicable anger appear. “No, your <i>job</i> is to save people.”

“Not as a firefighter, TK, as your dad.”

TK’s quiet for a moment. Just like that, the spark is gone and another sob leaves him. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Owen assures him, rubbing small circles into his son’s back. TK just nods, too busy trying to hold back the sobs and tears that threatened to overspill. By now, Paul, Marjan, and Matéo had returned from taking the truck back for the next shift and were just sitting awkwardly in the chairs beside Carlos.

When Paul catches the captain's eye, he mouths something that Owen takes for meaning, ‘Is he okay?’ Owen hesitates, looking down at where TK was sitting, practically in his lap with his head buried in his chest. He nods. TK might not be completely okay right now, but he would be. Owen knew that. If his son was anything, he was resilient.

Owen glances up at the sound of footsteps, relieved to see the doctor approaching. He knows the exact moment that TK notices, shifting and accidentally elbowing Owen in the chest. “Oomph!”

“Sorry,” TK’s quick to apologize but pays his dad no heed as he looks over at the doctor, a tall blond man. “How is he? Is he okay?”

The doctor opens his mouth to say something when Paul pipes up. “Relax, TK, he’s fine. Doc’s relaxed.”

“Wel—”

“Plus, Judd’s a fighter. He’ll be fine in no time.”

“May I—”

“Wait, did anyone call his wife?”

“If I can—”

“Yeah, I called her earlier. You know, she’s actually really nice. She invited us for dinner this weekend.”

“Guys,” Owen says, holding up a hand. “Let the man speak.”

The doctor sends him a thankful look and adjusts his clipboard as he clears his throat. “Thank you, Captain. Mr. Ryder’s going to be just fine. He’s lost a bit of blood but we were able to remove the bullet without much difficulty at all. He’s awake and ready for visitors. If you would like to see him, somebody can go in now. He’s been asking for his little brother?”

As soon as the doctor’s finished speaking, Owen looks down at his son. “That’s you. Go see him, make sure he’s not giving the nurses a hard time.” TK hesitates before shaking his head slightly and pulling his phone out as if he got a text. “I uh- actually, I have to go. Meeting a friend.”

Before anyone can protest, he’s out of there, taking off like a bat out of hell. Owen sighs, standing up. “Guess, that’s me then.” As he heads for Judd’s room, he hears Mateo comment on TK leaving to see a friend instead of visiting his brother. Marjan smacks him upside the head and calls him an idiot before Owen can say anything. He’d talk to TK later, make sure he’s okay.

Nobody, not even Paul, notices Carlos slipping away.

~~~

As soon as he’s out of the hospital, TK breaks down completely. He slides down one of the large white pillars and buries his face in his arms as he cries. Loud sobs wrack his entire body as he struggles to get a breath in without choking on it. He can practically feel everyone staring at him, watching as he loses it right there on the pavement. TK can only imagine the sight he makes. He was still in his turnout gear minus his helmet, which was probably still in the waiting room with his dad, and definitely looked the part of a badass firefighter. And here he was, sobbing like a child.

Too focused on dwelling on his own mistakes and trying to get a breath in, TK doesn’t notice somebody sitting down beside him until there’s a sharp inhale from the spot to his left. “It’s bright out, huh?” TK freezes, recognizing his boyfriend’s voice. He looks up slowly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand. They just keep coming.

“What are you doing here?”

“Come on, TK. I know you. And I know that you’re taking this hard. It’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

TK shakes his head. “That’s not— I wasn’t doing my job. I was just standing around, talking to <i>you</i>. I was distracted.”

“Everyone was standing around, there wasn’t much to do. You did nothing wrong. Please tell me you understand that,” Carlos says, an arm around his shoulders as he pulls TK into an awkward, half hug. TK just laughs bitterly and shakes his head again. Carlos frowns and decides to try another tactic. “What, you’re not going to ask how I’m feeling?”

TK looks up at him, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just won a steak-eating contest.”

“Nauseous?”

“Yeah. Doc says I have a concussion. Nothing serious though.”

TK nods. “Good. Look… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“TK, you have nothing to apologize for,” he tells him with a smile, squeezing him against his chest. “What happened was an accident. I know it doesn’t help much but it’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” TK shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

Carlos frowns but decides not to say anything for now. “Come on, Tiger. Let’s go see Judd. I heard he’s giving the doctors a hard time.”

This time, TK doesn’t protest as he’s led back towards the hospital.

~~~

“Where’s the kid?”

Standing at the end of Judd’s hospital bed, Owen got the strange feeling that he was at his judgment day. Judd didn’t look like he’d even been shot. If it weren’t for the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and the stark white hospital sheets, he could have just been laying in bed. He wasn’t wearing a hospital gown either, something the captain found fairly odd but not important enough to mention.

“He… had to leave. Had a date with a friend,” Owen tells him. They both knew he was lying.

“He’s blaming himself, ain’t he?” Judd asks, groaning slightly as he props himself up on his elbows and looks over. Owen just nods. “Fuck, knew he would. He’s okay though, right?”

Owen nods again. “Yeah, he’s fine. A couple of cracked ribs but he’ll be fine. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m floating on cloud nine, Cap. Think they gave me the good stuff,” he responds with a shit-eating grin.

Owen laughs. “I don’t doubt it.”

There’s a moment of quiet as the mood slowly shifts and Judd looks up. “Any idea where he is?”

Owen shakes his head. They both knew who Judd was referring to. “I don’t know. He told me he wouldn’t be…” he trails off with a shake of his head. “But I don’t know.”

“Yeah, well, he’ll be fine. What happened out there?”

“Paul found cocaine. A ton of it. The guy didn’t want anyone finding out, I guess.”

“Whew-”

“What, no ‘welcome to Texas’?”

Judd shakes his head. “This ain’t Texas shit, Cap. That’s some LA shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Though the silence between the two had never been awkward before, it was now rife with tension. Owen wasn’t too sure what to say. He knew TK wouldn’t appreciate him telling Judd about their earlier talk but right now, he was considering telling Judd their entire life story just to have something to talk about. Thankfully, by some sort of miracle, he’s stopped from oversharing by the door opening and a light cough from the doorway.

Owen turns around immediately to see TK and Carlos standing there in the doorway. Carlos’s arm is wrapped around TK’s shoulders in a protective gesture and the police officer is giving them both a look that dares them to try anything. TK, for his part, was just standing there with his eyes on his shoes and his arms wrapped around his chest as if he could hold himself together just like that.

Nobody says anything for a few moments before Carlos nudges TK, prompting a slight glare at the other man and a quiet, “Hey.”

“Howdy, kid. Nice of you to drop by,” Judd responds, not missing a beat. Despite how withdrawn and hesitant TK was at the moment, Judd was acting as if they were just hanging around the fire station. And for that, Owen was grateful. TK hated any kind of pity or sympathy or anything like that. And while Judd wasn’t the type to pity people, Owen knew that his son would definitely interpret any difference in behavior as such.

TK doesn’t respond, leaving them with yet another awkward silence. It takes Owen a moment to see the look Judd was giving him, too busy watching his son with obvious worry. Judd clears his throat and Owen gets the sense that he was tired of waiting for him to catch on. “Hey, Cap, why don’t you and Reyes go call Grace or something?”

The dismissal was anything except subtle but it got the job done. Carlos seems to snap out of whatever protective trance he was in and nods. “Right… yeah. Uh- see you later, TK?” TK just nods, still not looking up from his shoes.

With one last lingering glance at his son, Owen follows Carlos out of the hospital room and back to the rest of the crew.

~~~

Judd doesn’t say anything as he watches the kid in the doorway. His posture and expression screams guilt and Judd knows that whatever he’s thinking about was eating at him. He shakes his head. “Am I gonna be receiving an invite to this pity party or is it one of them private affairs?”

TK glances up at that, a hint of a glare on his face as he looks towards Judd. It’s lacking any heat, though, and seemed more instinctual than anything. Judd sighs. “Come on, kid. What’s eating at you?”

There’s another brief moment of silence as TK seems to gather his words before speaking. “You got shot.”

Judd raises a brow. “Believe me, brother, I know.”

“No— you got shot because I wasn’t paying attention. I was flirting with Carlos. Flirting! At work. And you were— you—”

As he speaks, TK starts to pace back and forth across the room and Judd holds up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “First of all, you’re making me dizzy. Second, this kind of shit happens. It could have happened to anyone. Probie, Marwani, your dad. Hell, even me. You know how many times I’ve tried flirting with Grace over the radio?” TK shakes his head. “Too many times.”

Judd pauses for a moment, just to get a sense of where they were, and then launches into the seemingly endless story of how he’d flirted with Grace over the radio, got himself smacked upside the head by his captain, and sent to the couch for the night by Grace, and almost drowned as a direct result from the incident. Partway through the story, TK migrates over to the hard plastic chair beside Judd’s bed and by the time he reaches the part about the couch, TK’s fast asleep with his head on the bed. Judd doesn’t stop talking just yet, continuing the story as TK lays there, his head laying on his folded arms.

He doesn’t reach the drowning part before he’s dozing off beside the kid, confident that they’d be alright.

[ayoitsnic]

Platonic! Sam x Reader x Dean

Word Count: 2.5k

Trigger Warnings: None? Violence that's pretty typical for Supernatural

Summary: Sam and Dean found out they have a sister. They're very skeptical at first but upon meeting they find out that despite 2 totally different upbringings they have more in common than they expected.

*Disclaimer* I wouldn't normally describe y/n in fics but in this one I did so purposefully to show the similarities between the siblings. I've been told some people are a bit touchy on that.

Oh also this is the first fanfic I've ever written so I'd be happy with constructive criticism.

'This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235. He can help.'

'Shit' Y/N thought to herself as she was put through to her dad's voicemail. 'Wait....it said call his son....does that mean...? Wait do I have a brother he never told me about!?' Grabbing a pen and a pad of sticky notes she called again, this time hoping for voicemail so she could write that number down.

'This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235. He can help.'

She got his voicemail again, quickly scribbling down the number before hanging up and dialing it.

~

Sam and Dean were just finishing up a ghoul case in Indiana when Dean's phone began ringing in the glove compartment of the Impala. Reaching over from the driver's side Dean quickly found his phone, glancing at the caller ID "Unknown Number?" He questioned out loud. He assumed it was a scam caller, but answered it anyway just in case "Hello?"

"Is this Dean?" A female voice asked, sounding mostly nervous, but also just a teensy bit excited.

"Who's this?" Dean questioned skeptically, causing Sam to look over curiously from the passengers side

"I'm Y/N. I umm....this is gonna sound crazy but I'm your sister." She felt weird saying that. Until 5 minutes ago she was an only child. "I tried calling dad but it went straight to voicemail and said to call you if it was an emergency...I kind of need help.."

Shocked with the idea of possibly having a sister Dean pulled the car over to a screeching halt, putting the hazard lights on. He needed a minute to take that in. He put the phone on speaker so Sam could hear what was being said "No that's impossible. Dad already had one kid we didn't know about. No way he had a second." Dean said, obviously in denial.

"He what?" Y/N asked, a grin spreading across her face. Regardless of the circumstances that prompted this call, she was elated to find out she had more than one sibling

Realizing what he had just said, Dean shook his head "Nevermind. Where are you?" He asked as Sam began to flip through John's journal, looking for any hint that there might've been another Winchester out there. It didn't take long for him to find the missing pages not even halfway through the book. It would seem she was born long before Adam.

"I'm in the Poconos, in Pennsylvania." Y/N responded

"Okay well we're about 10 hours from there. We'll be there in the morning." Dean told her "Text me the address." The phone call ended and Y/N texted him the address. They weren't sure what the emergency was that she had to call their dad for but regardless of whether or not it was their kind of thing, Sam and Dean were definitely gonna haul ass to go meet this mystery woman.

~

The next day Sam and Dean found themselves in Northeast Pennsylvania before noon hit. When they finally reached their destination they realized that this woman had grown up so differently from them. She lived in one of those fancy gated communities. Well THEY considered it fancy. Y/N was used to it, but then again the bar wasn’t too high with the childhood Sam and Dean had. The houses were big, the yards green, you needed a pass from security to get in, the only thing missing were picket fences.

"Are we sure we aren't walking into a trap?" Sam asked Dean as they stood on the big white porch, ringing the doorbell. "Well if we are, we're certainly prepared." Dean had grabbed holy water and had his gun tucked into the back of his jeans. Sam, a little silver and the Demon killing knife. It wouldn't protect from /everything/ but it'd save them from most of their most common threats.

When Y/N opened the door you could definitely see the family resemblance between her and Sam. She was tall for a woman, standing around 5'10, had light brown, shoulder length hair. Her eyes though, those were a beautiful shade of green like Dean's. It was almost like looking in a mirror for the boys "Hey." She greeted, letting them in

"Which one of you did I speak to on the phone?" She questioned

"That would be me." Dean replied, raising his hand a bit "This is my brother Sam." Sam was still trying to get over the fact that it looked someone took him and hit copy/paste.

"Wow. Dad really got around didn't he?" She commented without thinking. "4 kids, good for him." Just like Adam whom Dean had very briefly mentioned the day before, John Winchester while still her father, wasn't in the picture that often. Sure he seemed like a cool guy the few times a year he would visit but they never really had a proper Father/Daughter connection. She did care about him, but at the end of the end of the day he was just a person she knew she could trust, hence she didn't think twice about making comments like that until she noticed the look on her brothers' faces when she said it. "Sorry, I want thinking when I said that." She quickly apologized, wanting to move on.

Upon entering, the whole house smelled like Palo Santo wood. She found the scent very calming. "Anyways it's a hell of a drive from Indiana. You hungry? I made pie." She offered.

Dean's face lit up at that "What kind?" He asked with a small grin

"Blueberry. It's my mom's recipe." Y/N replied as she motioned for them to sit at the kitchen table. While she took out a knife to serve the pie, Sam had swapped out her utensils for ones they knew were silver.

"So what was so important you felt the need to call us up here?" Sam asked. Y/N could already tell she liked Sam. He gave off good vibes.

Y/N stayed silent for a moment before telling them "My cousin was found dead the other night. He had his throat ripped out. Cops say it was a Mountain Lion but it sounded like something that might interest Dad. Where is he by the way? I tried calling him a few more times and it just kept going straight to voicemail. Doesn't even ring."

Sam and Dean both looked a bit sad as they had to break the news that their father had passed away and had been dead for quite some time now. Upon hearing that, Y/N didn't really react. She wasn't sure how to. Of course she should've felt something because it was her father, but at the same time, as mentioned previously, he wasn't around a lot. He was absent for most of her life just like he was for Sam and Dean's. Sure he was there for the big stuff like birthdays, her high school graduation, or prom night where he let her drive up in the impala, but it was the small stuff she wanted him there for.

"So you know about the whole 'fighting monsters' thing then?" Dean asked as he splashed a small amount of holy water on her leg under the table. Sam kicked him under the table for even mentioning it. What was he thinking!? She didn't even notice the holy water but the question caused Y/N to look at him weird.

"What the hell are you talking about? Mom always said he was a fed." This almost forced Sam to hold in a chuckle.

~

Despite looks from Sam telling him it was a bad idea to tell her what they really do and that it was probably a vampire that killed her cousin, Dean told her anyway. They already made the mistake of not being totally upfront with Adam. Dean wasn’t making that mistake again "Yeah, okay." She chuckled dryly "You fight monsters. Sure you do." Like any sane person, she thought they were bullshitting. "Next you're gonna tell me you've found bigfoot out something." She said sarcastically

"Actually Bigfoot's one of the few things that isn't real." Dean told her with a smirk

"Tell ya what, you fight monsters?" She motioned towards her two brothers "Prove it. Show me these monsters. Let's go find the 'Vampire' " she said with finger quotations "that killed my cousin."

"Oh no no no." Sam finally spoke up "I was against telling you about what we do to begin with, but I'm drawing the line at having you go out on a hunt. You could really hurt. Or worse, killed."

"What is this, some bullshit male chivalry thing? Do you think women can't do the job?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"No, no that has nothing to do with it." Sam quickly back tracked "It's just that you only found out today that monsters are real, you've never hunted before, and we don't want you getting hurt."

Y/N got quiet for a moment, contemplating how she wanted to respond to that. When she finally spoke, she leaned across the kitchen table and told the boys very calmly, like eerily calmly "He was my family. I'm going and we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice." It was loud and clear, in no uncertain terms that she would do anything for her family. That included killing vampires.

The group went silent again. Sam and Dean exchanged a few glances before Dean relented "Alright fine, but you follow our lead."

"Deal." Y/N nodded

~

It didn't take long to locate the vamp nest. Only a day or two. In that time Sam had given Y/N a full rundown of everything she'd need to know about Vampires. How they're nocturnal but that doesn't mean they can't wake up during the day, how the whole 'stake through the heart' thing doesn't actually work and you gotta cut the heads off, and how they normally live in groups.

Thankfully it was a small nest, only about 6 or 7 of them. When the 3 of them pulled up to the old, long abandoned Birchwood Resort, Dean popped the trunk revealing their weapons cache. Y/N looked surprised to see all that stuff, peeking over Dean's shoulder to get a better look. "I've never seen so many weapons in one place. That's awesome." She grinned as Dean handed her a machete. Sam looked at Dean, thinking to himself how similar she sounded to him.

"Alright, Sam and I are gonna go in. Stay out here and if you see any of them try to run out just chop the head off." Dean told her

"You're crazy if you expect me to stay out here and miss all the action." Y/N told Dean as she leaned against the side of her dad's car. She didn't care how long the old man had been dead. To her, that would always be his car. NOT Dean's. With a sigh, she looked up to the night sky and ran her fingers through her hair "Alright fine, whatever. You're the master. I'm just the padawan." She shrugged, kind of annoyed but not in the mood to argue. Sam chuckled at the Star Wars reference.

"This place is huge though." Y/N added "It's really easy to get lost in. You might be better off with someone who grew up here and is familiar with the area. I wonder where you could find someone like that." She hinted, as her and her friends would explore this place as teenagers. "I think we'll be okay." Sam declined. They really were set on having her outside. Thinking about it, she could definitely understand the decision. They'd probably see her as a liability.

Once Sam and Dean had found the nest, the massacre began. After killing half the nest Dean found himself pinned under a vamp, his weapon thrown across the room where he could reach it. "Sammy!!!!!" He called out but Sam was busy with 2 vampires of his own.

Outside Y/N had grown bored of waiting for the boys to return. How long did it take to kill a few 'Vampires'? 'Fuck it' she thought to herself 'I'm going in.' And that's exactly what she did. Looking around the place for her brothers she ran into 1 vampire. Too Easy. She cut the head off as it made a move to go after her. Looking at the decapitated head on the ground made her nauseated but she pushed on.

Before long she heard a commotion From inside one of the private cabins. Peeking through a window she saw the bad position they were in. Scared, and sick to her stomach she ran into the cabin. Swinging the machete in her hand she killed the vampire that had Dean pinned. It was a clean cut and came centimeters from Dean's throat.

He got up, grabbing his own machete to help out Sam. After the vamps were dead Y/N averted her gaze, trying to avoid looking at more dead bodies as she caught her breath.

"I thought we told you to wait outside!" Dean told her to which she instantly responded with "And I thought Sam said you guys would be okay on your own but I just had to come and save you. You should be thanking me."

With a sigh Dean nodded "Are you okay?" He asked, just making sure. "I'm fine. I'm covered in blood and I just killed 2 Vampires, but I'm fine." Despite the nausea, she grinned. The whole hunting thing wasn't supposed to be fun, but this was the most excitement she had in a long time. "Alright, I don't know about you guys but I would kill for a shower right now. If you want after that I know a great bar off main street. I could use a stiff drink."

~

Sam and Dean left 2 days later, having found a case in Virginia. "We are gonna keep in touch, right?" Y/N asked as Sam and Dean put their duffel bags in the Impala

"Of course we are." Dean agreed while Sam added his contact info to her phone. She of course already had Dean's info saved. "You sure you don't wanna come with us?" He asked which caused Y/N to shake her head lightly "As much as I would love to, I have responsibilities up here. Work, family, what's left of a mortgage to pay off...Maybe one day though." She offered a soft smile.

After hugging both boys and telling Dean to drive safe, they took off for Virginia. "Dude," Sam looked over at Dean "I know we were skeptical at first but can we agree she's definitely related to us?" 

Dean looked at Sam weird “I don’t see it.”

“You’re kidding right?” Sam asked “Aside from the fact that she’s like a walking replica of me, she makes really good pie; you love pie. You saw how defensive she got when I told her it’d be safer to sty at home while we took care of the vamps. It’s clear she’d do anything for her family. Sound like someone you know? and while we’re on the subject let’s talk about the fact that she’s not a  terrible hunter. She’s far from a natural and a little weak stomached, but for someone who’s probably never killed a thing in their life she wasn’t bad.” Sam listed all the different ways she was just like Dean.

“What was the first thing she said when she saw the arsenal he keep in the trunk?” Sam asked his brother who responded with “I dunno. What’d she say?”

“She said ‘That’s awesome. She sounded just like you.” Sam insisted

Dean sat silent for a moment, focusing on the road ahead of them before relenting “Yeah okay when you put it like that she’s definitely related.” He agreed

[solar-pxwered]

Narancia hated hospitals. Hospitals were cold, sterile places that bustled like anthills, so many workers just going through the motions while people in the rooms suffered and died...he had needed to come to this very hospital several times during his work with Passione, despite his vehement insistance that Fugo's rough first aid was preferable to being here; Giorno would never hear of it.

He'd gotten stitches here, been treated for some nasty burns and concussions...his mother had died here. There were no good memories to be had. And, here he was, about to rack up one more to the count.

The nurse led him and Trish down several long halls until they came to a room in the Intensive Care Unit numbered 44 and Narancia smirked. Bad luck, indeed, Mista would be having a fit.

"Mr. Ghirga?" The elderly, yet very kind, nurse announced herself as she opened the door and stepped inside, "We were finally able to locate your son. Would you like to speak to him?"

At Narancia's side, Trish let out a low scoff.

"Whether he wants to or not doesn't matter. We didn't come all this way to-"

But Narancia silenced her with a tight but gentle grip at her wrist and a look out of the corner of his eye. A small shake of his head was the only sign he gave, otherwise he remained stubbornly stoic.

"Yeah, let him in. About time you found him, shit, it's not like he changed names or anything." Came the reply from the bed across the small room and the nurse nodded before opening the door fully to allow the two of them to enter.

It was a typically sparse room, everything was white except for the few splashes of the hospital's signature logo color, a light blue that felt washed out and cold. There were no flowers, no get well soon cards, nothing.. and that was the only thing about this entire situation that felt right to Narancia.

He had released Trish's arm before the door had opened, but the second his father's cold gaze landed on him he wished he was still holding onto her. It had been years now, but the same sick feeling he had always gotten from his father remained, the knowledge he was responsible for his mother's death was still a fresh wound in Narancia's heart.

"Still scrawny as ever, I see." Came the expected observation, and Narancia ignored it with all the grace of someone who gave no shits what anyone thought about him. Trish, however, stiffened next to him and he felt her hatred coming off in waves. "Shit, kid, did you grow at all in, god, how long has it been? Five? Six years?"

He heard the very quiet sound of Trish's mouth opening to speak and he immediately took hold of her wrist again, squeezing it in warning.

"Don't." He said quietly, "It's what he wants."

To her credit, Trish stayed silent, but she stepped closer and slightly in front of him, a protective posture he recognized well from all the times he'd done the same for her.

"Looks like you must have some kind of skills though if you can get such a pretty thing like her on your arm."

"She's my best friend." Was all Narancia offered, but his hold on her wrist remained. "Now stop wasting my time and tell me what the fuck you want from me."

The harshness of Narancia's tone didn't phase the older man one bit, he simply scoffed.

"Is that how you speak to your old man after all these years, Narancia? How rude."

Narancia didn't take the bait. His gaze remained cold, empty, void of any warmth at all.

"I can leave as easily as I came."

The threat worked, because Matteo Ghirga's demeanor changed quickly. The teasing, abusive father was gone in an instant, replaced by something small and pathetic and needy.

"I hear you're involved with the Mafia these days. The local syndicate in Naples...they say you work close with the new Boss."

How he had gotten this information wasn't clear, but Narancia really wasn't too concerned with that at the moment. He didn't reply in any way.

"I'm sure that means you do well for yourself. I'm in a desperate situation here, as you can see. The old liver, you know, they say the drinking caught up to me, heh. Need a transplant. Transplants cost a pretty penny. Lucky for me, my son has the connections available to save his old man and find some peace of mind."

"You want money?" Trish's soft voice, tinged with disbelief followed a small silence between all present parties. "After everything...you would even dare to ask Narancia for money?"

This time, Narancia did nothing to stop her from speaking, he was far too gobsmacked. He had expected some whimpering, patheric deathbed confessional to clear his conscience as respectable Italian Catholic would, last rites and all that...but he had not expected him to have the raw nerve to ask for a favor.

"This is none of your business, Pinkie."

That got a reaction like nothing else had. Narancia's eyes flashed, Aerosmith roared into existence of it's own accord due to the fury that rose instantly in his soul. He pulled Trish behind him, probably more roughly than he should have and glared at his dying father with unmatched malevolence.

"Don't speak to her. You don't get that privilege."

For a moment, a look of understanding seemed to flicker in Matteo Ghirga's eyes, slightly widened in alarm at the sudden change in atmosphere. He couldn't see Aerosmith, but it was clear that he could feel something so dangerous about his son that he chose not to push.

"Fine by me, it's you I asked for anyway."

"You wasted your breath."

The implication hung heavy in the air and the room fell into such a silence that you could have heard a pin drop. Matteo surprisingly did not look away from cold stare of his son nor did Narancia so much as flinch from his unyielding position of power. He was in control this time, Matteo could do nothing unless he allowed it.

"You'll be killing your own father if you do nothing."

"I could kill you right here and now with a hundred witnesses and no cop or prison would hold me. As you said, I've got connections. But I'll do you a favor, even if you don't deserve it, and let you die in your own terms instead of full of holes."

".....Narancia..."

The man's tone was like nothing he had ever heard from him before, soft, begging, almost respectful...and that was the last straw. He wasn't going to stand here and let this piece of shit think he would listen to anither word from his worthless mouth. There was nothing morento be said.

Narancia turned on his heels, took Trish by the hand, and left the room behind, closing the door on his past one last time.

"Good riddance." The otherworldly voice of Spice Girl was the only sound that registered in his ears for quite some time after.

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 3

The Case of the Curious Clues

Before we start, a quick plea to Grant O’Brien: Please stop finding clues. I can only take notes so fast. You’re killing me Grant. Moving on...

We start off this episode with yet another flashback, this time to the final confrontation of Sly and his supposedly dead arch nemesis Fletcher Cottonbottom at Reichenbunny Falls (...Brennan please). Fletcher was using a local castle as a storage center for munitions but Sly tipped off the cops before they could be moved. They do some repartee back and forth before Fletcher, the madman, handcuffs them together and jumps off the edge. They hit the water but Sly is able to lockpick himself out and escape while Fletcher disappears beneath the waves. 

You know what I got from that story? No body.

Anyway, we jump back to the present where there *is* a body, Squire Badger’s specifically. Everyone in the room who isn’t a PC thinks that this must either be the work of ghosts or Mrs. M who was the only person in the room when it happened (allegedly). 

This is a crucial time for clue gathering and Brennan keeps everyone in initiative for investigative purposes. Now, *so much* stuff happens here that I’m not going to recap every single detail--just the major clues and the things that seem relevant. I’m serious, this is like the volume of info we usually get in the once per season later game lore dump ep but it’s episode THREE.

Daisy tries to find a secret door but critically fails. She clocks Gangie, a fellow criminal, and in the moment Rekha and Katie decide that they prob have worked together in the past even though they are very different kinds of criminals. 

Buck, who is outside listening to what’s going on in the room notices that his ankle knife is missing which is Concerning considering a man was just knifed to death. 

Sly has Lars guard the door (he opens it and Buck is discovered, whoops) and then rolls a NATURAL 20 plus NINE to investigate so Brennan just has to tell him literally everything. RIP to him and me. Anyway, here’s the rundown (along with some of the stuff other ppl got):

Mrs. M’s hands are covered in blood but she couldn’t have done it. Based on her personality for one and for other reasons we’ll get to.

The wound is much messier than it would be if a person stabbed themselves typically.

There is a note in Squire Badger’s handwriting that says “Sylvester Cross I am afraid” No indication of if that was the whole message or if he got interrupted (maybe Buck could figure it out with his handwriting checking skills). Daisy from across the room clocks that Sly’s name is written on the paper but can’t read the rest.

The knife is a hunting knife with a pronghorn handle--an animal not common in England but very common in Texas (and Buck is sweating obv).

There is a slight layer of charcoal type dust on everything on the big resolute desk in the room (which makes sense, ash from the fireplace) but there is parchment type dust on the bust of Barkus Aurelius (OK, that one’s good) on the table and that’s the only place that dust is. Ian later notices that the date on the bust is wrong. 

Speaking of, the desk (which we learn later was put in and taken out of storage once Loan Hall was modernized) is bolted to the ground and a lot of stuff has been thrown off it as if by a powerful force but Sly notices that it’s just the metal stuff like things made of silver or with screws. Stone things like the bust and other non-metal things have stayed put. Plus he smells ozone. This was the work of magnets, not ghosts, he concludes. And, for the record, Grant figured this out himself!

Mrs. M’s eyes are rapidly dilating. She is questioned about what happened and she says that she was told she was fired and would receive a small pension. 

(Not a part of Sly’s clue dump but Buck rolls a 24 with disadvantage to persuade everyone he didn’t do it but then 2 nat 1s in a row to see if Harding--who said he was standing outside the door--is suspect. Buck thinks he’s at most a stooge but he did roll a nat 1 so who knows?)

Anyway, back to Mrs. M. Gangie fully believes Mrs. M is innocent and scared. She doesn’t quite remember what happened for a couple of seconds in there and it’s clear this is not the first time she’s had missing time. Sly calls Longfoot (the bunny photographer) over to take a picture of Mrs. M which everyone is a little appalled at until they realize he’s making a point. When the flash goes off, she bugs out like she did in episode 1 and forgets that the picture was ever taken. Sly then has Dr. Magpie list the symptoms of epilepsy. It seems that Mrs. M had an episode triggered by the flash she mentioned seeing and then lost time. It’s possible that what she thought she saw after that she didn’t actually see.

[While Sly is monologuing this Rekha texts Brennan and gets a 17 to swipe the “I am afraid” note. Sly doesn’t notice.]

So if it wasn’t her, then who was it? There’s only one door into the study and anyone who walked in would have to have walked past Mr. Harding, Shellcrest, Calliope, and Tabitha (who is having a marvelous time being in the midst of so much drama). Ah, but who said there was only one door? Sly has Harding pull a sconce and a SECRET DOOR OPENS! Woo! Finally! It’s a classic bookshelf one that opens into the hallway and there is some extremely fine crushed glass under the door. Hmm.

Sly clocks that there is something under the desk but we don’t know what it is because Brennan texts it to him and it’s redacted. There are actually a couple of redacted texts that go around this ep so we are def missing information. 

OK, that’s more or less everything. 

Sly notices that the page is missing and Grant gasps while Rekha does an excellent job of pretending like she doesn’t even remember what paper is being talked about. Constance asks if it’s possible that Mrs. M totally made up the memory because of her epilepsy and between Dr. Magpie and Sly they determine that that’s uncommon but possible. Dr. Magpie says that everyone should leave so he and Sly can examine the body and Sly says that someone should watch Gangie at all times. 

At this point, Harding and Gilfoyle (the butler) say they should establish where everyone was at the time of the murder. A lot of the staff and guests have solid alibis cause they were in big groups/cleaning up together. But the PCs were off alone (or with each other) and had reasons to want to guy dead so they’re prime suspects. Sly even admits that he’s one too. Also everyone dogpiles Ian because Raph makes it so fun. 

Harding mentions the letter that was given to Buck (the one selling his shares in BB and giving voting writes to his rival Josiah) and asks him to read it. Buck reads it and gives a streamlined version of the truth, saying everything except for the part with the proxy vote. With a 26 he is able to allay everyone’s suspicions for now, but now he’s purposefully hidden the truth in a way that can be readily called out if anyone sees the letter or the contract which he resolves to find. 

Buster distracts the group so Daisy can “check the body for a pulse” aka: check the body for the contract. She doesn’t find a it but does find a key attached to a piece of red silk--something that would be weird for him to be carrying around instead of his valet. She figures this must open whatever locked drawer the contract is in and swipes it but Sly clocks her stealing it (his perception ties her sleathiness but an earlier Bless from Ian tips him over the edge--poetic).  

Calliope says that everyone is kinds suspect, including Sly, but *someone* has to solve this and Sly’s their best bet so everyone should just stay put and they can guard the exits. The butler says that, besides the front door, there are some towers that poke up above ground and a servant's exit/entrance by the elevator in the kitchen wing but they can lock down both and have someone guard the front doors. 

The butler is like, lmao yeah Sly I know you didn’t do it and I’m not gonna stand guard here but you know, everyone is keeping an eye on y’all. And then he leaves the PCs, Mrs. M, Constance, and Dr. Magpie in the room with the body. 

Lars is about to go watch the kitchen staff but, before he goes, Sly says to him that he saw Cottonbottom and is obviously quite scared. Gangie, who used to work for the guy, overhears and asks what’s going on. Sly assumes Gangie is playing coy but rolls high enough to know that he isn’t. He saw a starkly white Cottonbottom and one of his known conspirators doesn’t know he’s back? Perhaps it was a ghost after all. 

Case Notes

My 2 fave bits of this episode were “bad to bad bad bad” (and the further riffing) and Daisy throwing increasingly bigger books at Sly.

Even with a Nat 1, Sly gets a 16 on Investigation. Wild. 

I don’t think Rekha got enough props for her “Cross examination” line so I’m mentioning it here.

Brennan said the ozone question was still open--but I assumed it was like the electricity smell from an electromagnet. That would make sense, right? Maybe he meant they hadn’t found the source of it specifically yet?

Brennan says Buck’s knife is a pronghorn knife. I assume they’re made from the animal’s horns? Even if they’re the kind that fall off every season, is that weird? Or is it just like human hair wigs? Also, does this world have leather?

I love that the dice keep supporting the narrative that Daisy simply cannot get her shit together when she’s with Sly because he distracts her too much. Delicious. Their whole relationship is delicious. 

OK, I am a tiny bit suspicious of Calliope. It’s partially the way she took control of the situation near the end and partially the fact that she doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would be involved in this which would make her heel turn delicious. No hard evidence and obv she couldn’t be the person who actually stabbed a guy but idk. Just spitballing. I’m very curious about whether we’ve met everyone we’re going to meet more or less or if there are still outside people/hidden inside people. Because, in real life, a murderer could be literally anyone but in a story, you can’t just introduce a new villain all of a sudden at the end. Bad storytelling. Weak payoff. We’ll see how things start to pan out. 

[auroracalisto]

poisoned words

soooo i totally have fallen in love with this character and it sucks that there are like five fanfics.  so on a caffeine fueled go-about, i created this.  also, i’m trying something different.  anytime there is a time skip or a time jump, i’ll include a gif.  i don’t know, i just want to see what it looks like!  hope you guys enjoy.  also can anyone tell me if they like my posts with more gifs or with less?  does it interrupt the flow of reading?  this post is an experiment of sorts so pleease, be sure to let me know. 

pairing: marcus pierce/cain x reader

word count: 2464 words and i am not sorry about it, either

warning:  uh, you’re totally poisoned in this.  and marcus is a BITCH but he comes around because you need some stability in your life, don’t you?  i think there might be a couple cuss words?  uhhhhh

“Shut.  Up,” Ella grinned as she stared you down.  

You just rolled your eyes, looking away from her as you leaned against the table.  Your arms were crossed over your chest.  “It’s not a big deal.  And I don’t want to hear you talking about it, either.  Got it?”

She just smiled at you, bouncing in her spot.  She was ecstatic to realize that her best friend was practically in love with their boss.  

“Are you going to tell him?  I think you should.  You never know unless you say something—“

“—I’m not going to say anything, Ella.  And please, don’t say anything, either.” Ella giggled and shook her head.  “I won’t.  I promise.”

She handed you a couple of files and waved you away.  “Go on.  Shoo.  I have work to do, and so do you.”

You rolled your eyes, again, and took the files before you took them over to Detective Decker.  

She looked at you with a hesitant smile.  “[Your name].  Am I glad that you’re here.  Look, I have to ask you something—”

Lucifer popped up beside of her with a grin.  “You’ve got to go undercover.”

Chloe shot Lucifer a look before she gave you an apologetic smile.  “Yeah, uh, I can explain.  Lucifer and I have canvassed the area.  You are just gonna have to be under the same roof with the Lieutenant for a couple of days until we can figure out who the killer is.”

You stared at her for a moment, sitting the files you held on top of her desk.  “What?  Uh, no one else can do it?”

“No,” Chloe said.  “I am so sorry.  And I’ll owe you big time.  But Lucifer and I will be out in a van the entire time.  So, you won’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, hesitantly nodded.  “Alright.  What case is this?  The cul-de-sac poisons?”  

Chloe nodded and pulled out a file, beginning to explain what was going on. Whoever it was happened to be very skilled.  To the point that this case was on its second week and they still had no idea who had been killing people in the neighborhood.  

Fast forward a couple of hours, you were sitting on the sofa in your newly rented condo, Lieutenant Pierce sitting across from you.  

It was quiet, for just a minute, before he spoke up.  

“Have you done many sting operations?”

You looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  “This your idea of small talk?”  You couldn’t help the blush that formed on your cheeks.  “Yeah.  When Chloe can’t, I usually step in to help.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything else.  

Around other people, it was far simpler to talk to the man.  But now that you were in front of him, alone, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.  Your heart practically clenched in your chest.  

None of this was going to go well.  

Five minutes of nearly total silence went by before there was a knock at the front door.  

“I’ll get it,” you quickly said, jumping up from your spot on the couch and rushing to the front door. 

A young woman stood there, holding a basket of muffins.  She had a kind smile on her face; the kind of smile that would make your heart melt when you saw it.

“Oh, hi,” you smiled, tilting your head.  “Um, can I help you...?”

She smiled.  “Hello!  It’s so nice to meet you, my name is Neveah,” she grinned, holding out the basket to you.  “I noticed that you and your husband were moving in and I just wanted to bring you a welcome gift.  They’re homemade.  I hope you don’t mind!”

You just smiled and reached out to take the basket.  “Thank you so much.  I really appreciate it.  My name is—my name is [Your nickname].  My husband is—”

“Marc,” Marcus said from beside of you, forcing a smile to the girl standing in front of you.  

Neveah pursed her lips when she saw him, but it soon returned to the smile she originally had.  “Well, I just wanted to give you guys a warm welcome to the neighborhood!  I’ll be seeing you around!”  Neveah waved and smiled once more before she left.  

Marcus moved to shut the door and lock it behind of her, while you took the muffin basket to the kitchen.  

You stared at it, debating for a moment.  They did smell amazing.  But you had to be careful.  You were on a sting operation for a string of poisons.  It probably wasn’t in your best interest to eat anything that was given to you.  

Marcus came into the kitchen and rose an eyebrow.  “What?”

“Mm,” you tore your eyes away from one of the muffins and you gave him a soft smile.  “Nothing.  We should probably just throw these away,” you shrugged.  “I, uh,” your eyes glanced towards the clock and you finally noticed the time.  “God, why did she come over so late?”  

You shook your head and sighed.  “I’m gonna go and take a shower...”

About an hour later, you came out of the bathroom with your pajamas on and a towel around your head.  You were, in other words, ready for bed and exhausted, to say the least.  

But you decided to go to the kitchen and find something to eat before you went to bed.  

You couldn’t find Marcus.  And you debated on eating a muffin or not before you finally just grabbed one that looked the best and took a hesitant bite out of it.  The muffin had a funny taste and you immediately sat it down.  You swallowed thickly, picking up another muffin and sniffing at it to see what it smelled like.  It had a similar smell to what you were tasting.  

“Shit,” you breathed out.  “Uh, guys?” you spoke into the walkie-talkie, hoping that Chloe and Lucifer were listening in on you.  “I think I figured out how they’re being poisoned.”

“What?” Chloe quickly replied through the walkie-talkie.  “What are you talking about?  [Your name], what did you do?”

“I took a bite out of a muffin.  I, uh, I’m fine, though, so don’t worry.  But whoever gave them to me definitely is our culprit—"

“Neveah,” Marcus said as he came into the kitchen.  “Wait, what did you say you did?”  

Marcus took one look at the muffin and he frowned.  “I thought you said we shouldn’t eat them.”

You sat the walkie-talkie down and grabbed the basket, throwing the rest of them away in the trash.  As soon as you were by the trashcan, a wave of nausea ran through you.  You reached up and pressed a hand against the wall, the back of your other hand pressing against your mouth.   “[Your name]?”

“I’m fine,” you frowned, calming yourself down.  You lowered your hand and were able to take your other off of the wall.  “I’m going to go and lay down…”  You took a couple steps forward.  However, you didn’t make it very far before you collapsed to the floor.  

When you came to, blinding lights took over your vision.  

You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up.  Pain ran through your body and a voice ushered you to lay back down.  

Chloe was in the room with you.  That was her talking to you.  

“We got the culprit.  It was that girl you talked to.  I don’t know how she knew you guys were cops, but… the good news is, she’ll be behind bars for life.”

You groaned softly and raised your hand up to your eyes, shieling them from the light.  

“Where am I?”

“The hospital,” Chloe said.  

“The Lieutenant…”

“Called for backup and for an ambulance.  Had he not caught you, you probably would have had a pretty serious head injury…”

You raised your arm, forcing yourself to look over and see the blonde.  “Really?”

She just smiled.  “Yes, really.  I am so glad you’re okay.  No more sting operations in my place, okay?  And no more muffins.”

“Agreed,” you groaned, taking in a deep breath.  “No more muffins.”

Nearly a week after you were poisoned, you had returned to work.  Ella had been worried sick about you, even though she had visited you every single day. Pierce had yet to say anything to you.  He just sent you these sad looks throughout the day.  Lucifer kept hitting you on the back, right where your muscles hurt the most.  But that was typical; nothing new, there.  

But, after a week of somewhat normalcy, you decided that you needed to talk to Pierce.  A part of you truly just needed to talk to him.  After your brief visit with death, the feelings you were having before the sting operation needed to be on the table.  

You walked up to his office and hesitantly knocked, wanting to chicken out.  If he said nothing, you would never tell him anything.  

“Come in.”

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, but you opened the door and walked in anyway.  

“What can I do for you, [Your last name]?”

You pursed your lips before you walked further into the room, walking to the front of his desk.  “I… I need to talk to you about something.”

He looked up from his papers, just long enough to see how nervous you were.  

“No,” he quickly said.  

“No…?”

“I know what you’re going to ask.  And the answer is no.”

You stared him down for a moment.  The disbelief was written all over your face and you took a slight step back.  

“You’re not even letting me speak.  Lieutenant, please, I just need to get this off of my chest—”

“No, you need to keep it to yourself.  It will not happen, [Your last name].  I realized this when you nearly died from eating a damn muffin.  I will not subject myself to losing you after you did something so stupid.  If you did that, what more could you do?”  He stared you down, his eyes locking with yours as he spoke.  “Besides.  I am not relationship material.  It wouldn’t work out.”

“I didn’t thi—”

“—think?”  

He interrupted you.  

“You didn’t think, hm?  Isn’t that the problem, [Your name]?”

“I…  I just…”  

You looked away from Pierce and quickly left his office, not once looking back to see the look of pure regret that Marcus withheld from you.  

You rushed over to your desk and grabbed your coat and your bag, just leaving. You couldn’t be in that building any longer than you truly needed to be.  

Ella had messaged you probably about 100 times in the past three days.  She had sent memes, worried text messages, and text messages about how when she saw you again, she was literally going to beat you up.  Lucifer had sent one. And that was a lot, coming from him, especially because he genuinely seemed concerned.  Chloe had sent a couple as well, checking up on you.  No one knew what happened to you, except for yourself and Marcus.  But he hadn’t said a word.  

You should have saw it coming.  He acted like he didn’t need anyone.  Maybe that was true.  

You sighed as the sunlight peeked through your curtains.  You moved your arm above your eyes. You had to go to work, sometime.  But you didn’t know if today would be that day.  You just couldn’t.  

A buzz came from your phone as you finally forced yourself to sit up.  

Lieutenant Come open your door.

You why should i

Lieutenant Please.

With a groan, you hauled yourself out of the bed.  You looked at your appearance.  Disheveled everything.  Bedhead, bed clothes, dark circles under your eyes because although you had been mostly in bed the past couple of days, you couldn’t exactly sleep.  

You walked downstairs, trudging over to your front door.  

You didn’t even check the peephole to see if he was actually there before you opened it, revealing the Lieutenant.  

He frowned at the sight of you and he cleared his throat.  “How are you?  Are you okay, [Your last name]?”

You stared at him for a moment before the urge to roll your eyes came to you. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave—”

“No,” he quickly said.  “No, I…” He frowned and watched you as he spoke. “I’m sorry, [Your name].  I think it’s time that I explain some things to you.  You… deserve to know why I acted the way I did.”

The thought of kicking him off your doorstep ran through your mind, but instead, you moved out of the way and let him in.  

“I’m sorry,” he said, frowning as you led him into the living room so the two of you could sit down and talk.  “I really am.  I just…”

The things he began to explain to you were unimaginable.  Angels, demons, God, they were all real.  And to ice the cake, Marcus looked at you and told you about his own upbringings.  He was Cain.  

And although this should have scared you.  Although this should have sent you running.  You only frowned at him.  

“So, you totally broke my heart in the middle of the precinct because you were afraid, I’d be scared of you?”

“No,” he frowned.  “I don’t want to see you die, just like everything else around me has.”

“Yeah, but,” you breathed out.  “What if there is a way for you to become mortal?  Or… or if there’s a way for me to become immortal?  Marcus, Cain—yeah, I’m gonna stick with Marcus for now—what if you lived?  For just a little bit longer?”

“And why would I do that?” he frowned at you.  

“I was hoping you would do it for me,” you weakly said.  “But I understand if you wouldn’t.  I’m not exactly the relationship type, huh?”

“[Your name]…”

Marcus let out a soft sigh before he closed his eyes.  “I am not promising anything.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“If you die, I will never forgive myself.”

“I wouldn’t die by your hands, would I?”

“Absolutely not,” he immediately spoke, staring you down.  

“I mean, hey, you really hurt me, I gotta offend you somehow—”

“Alright, that’s not really fair, I was doing it for a good reason.”

You rolled your eyes and wiped away a couple of tears that had escaped earlier in your conversation.  “Yeah.  Whatever.”

“[Your name]…”

You looked up at Marcus with a frown, only to realize that he had moved to be right in front of you.  Without warning, Marcus, or Cain, leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.  What he should have done, to begin with.  

[marjansmarwani]

Trouble Will Come

11.6k || ao3

Ever since TK had been caught up in Austin's latest serial bomber's attack, Carlos has thrown himself into looking for the mysterious bomber. He had watched his boyfriend almost die at the hands of this maniac, and he needed to do everything he could to make sure that never happened again. It makes him feel better, helps to counteract the helplessness he felt in that moment.

What he didn't expect was to actually find him, and to be trapped with him and a bomb in another abandoned factory. Now he just wants to make it out alive, because he is pretty sure TK will find a way to kill him if he doesn't.

--- Sequel to Trouble Will Not Take Me

I ended up rereading this today and decided to repost it because I don’t think I ever got around to making a masterpost of the chapters when I first finished it and just because I really like it and we could always use some more Carlos fic. So enjoy this shameless bit of self-promotion and a reminder of an older fic in lieu of anything new since I am still fighting my way through some writer’s block. 

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

“Wow,” Mya deadpanned as they pulled up to a dilapidated abandoned factory building, “you take me to the nicest places.”

“Next time we have a serial bomber I’ll be sure to mention to him that he should aim for sites that are more aesthetically pleasing,” Carlos replies drily, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’m just saying, would it kill us to not have chosen the place on the list most likely to give us tetanus by just looking at it?”

Carlos merely shrugged in response because honestly, he couldn’t disagree with her. It had been just over two weeks since Austin’s most recent serial bomber made his big splash by blowing up a building with firefighters inside. It had been only been two years since the last bomber and everyone was on edge. The memory was fresh enough that the majority of the police department had been there, had watched the last bombings unfold. To see it happen again didn’t sit well with anyone, especially Carlos. He had vivid memories of the last time, of the fear and uncertainty that had reigned over the city. This time he had his own fears to add to the pile; his own nightmares to haunt his days. It had been the 126 who responded to that call, it had been TK and Marjan trapped inside the last building when it exploded. That had been 15 days ago, and every day since APD had poured a significant amount of its resources into identifying likely targets and patrolling them regularly. Carlos had been volunteering for every shift - this case was personal.

He still saw TK’s limp and battered body being pulled out of the collapsed building every night when he closed his eyes. The first few nights, when TK had still been in the hospital, he had resisted going home because he knew he wouldn’t sleep anyways. Even now, weeks later, he still had those dreams; still woke up in a cold sweat. Only the presence of TK besides him, soundly sleeping and breathing and alive was enough to calm him. So yeah, maybe he was taking this one a little personally.

Fortunately, Mya was completely on board. She had been right by his side the entire way: in the waiting room of the hospital, in their sergeant’s office volunteering for extra shifts. He hadn’t even had to ask her. The first day he showed up to work, once TK had finally been out of the woods, she had materialized in front of his desk. “They’re going after this guy,” she had said, “I want in and I am sure you do too.” He had barely had time to nod before she was leading them to the sergeant’s office.

It was times like this he was so grateful for his partner. She was a force to be reckoned with on a regular day, and she cared just as much about TK as she did for Carlos. To say she was feeling spiteful would be an understatement: “If some asshole bomber thinks they’re going to almost crush my friend to death and get away with it, they’ve got another thing coming,” she had said fiercely.

Carlos almost felt bad for this mysterious bomber - almost.

That didn’t change the fact that this was the 12th abandoned building they had checked out this week and while it certainly wasn’t the gnarliest building they had been in, it wasn’t winning any home and garden awards.

“Just think,” he said as they drew closer, “if we ever decide to give up this whole cop thing, we’ll have a jump start on real estate to enter the haunted house business.”

“I know you’re joking, but that’s honestly not the worst idea I’ve heard.”

Carlos shook his head fondly, “You ready to do this, again?”

Mya nodded, “Twelfth time’s the charm, right?”

“We can only hope,” he muttered as the entered the structure. “Structure” may even be a generous term for it; there didn’t seem to be much standing. They looked around the entry: it appeared to have been a lobby of some sort at one time and it opened up into two diverting hallways. “Looks like we’re splitting up. Do you want left or right?”  

“I’m feeling left today. Be careful though, will you? Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble without your partner to watch your back.”

“You too. Radio if you find anything?”

“Always.” With a quick salute, Mya was off, disappearing down the hallway to the left. Carlos quickly followed suit and entered the other hallway. It was dark and quiet. He pulled out his flashlight and looked around. It looked like your typical, nondescript, dilapidated hallway - just like the other eleven they had searched that week.

Still, it warranted a cursory investigation. If only to cross it off the list, to eliminate another possible location. The reigning theory at the precinct currently is that the bomber had been scared off by what had happened with the last bomb. The only casualties of the first four bombs had been the buildings themselves. Never before had there been victims of the bombs, and only luck and talented medical professionals had prevented there from being any fatalities. Normally Carlos would have been grateful and left it at that. But TK had almost died - Carlos had thought he was dead for several heart-stopping moments. He wasn’t over it, and he was bringing that baggage with him. Logically he knew that he should have recused himself from the case, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to be a part of this, he needed to know he had done everything he could to bring this maniac to justice.

It was coping, he supposed.

He continued down the hallway, shining his flashlight into the dark corners. He moved carefully, keeping his eyes moving and his ears open. He froze as he heard a sound up ahead. It was probably just an animal, or a piece of the crumbling ceiling falling, but Carlos was still on high alert as he turned the next corner. He frowned when he saw a weak light cutting through the surrounding darkness. He moved towards it. It was a lantern, shining dimly on a makeshift table. The rest of the table was covered with paper and blueprints. Carlos could feel his heart rate increase - this was it. This was the work of the bomber they had been tracking. He went to reach for his radio, to tell Mya that he had found something, to tell her they had the guy and to get here now; but it was then that he realized he had made his first mistake.

“What are you doing here?” a harsh voice behind him demanded.

Carlos froze - hand hovering just above his radio. He slowly turned around to find a middle-aged man with a scraggly beard, wild eyes, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and a gun pointed at him. He slowly raised his hands up in surrender, even as he cursed at himself.

He had forgotten to clear the room. He had made a rookie mistake and had let this guy get the drop on him. Now there was a gun pointed at him and he was in deep shit.

He spoke slowly and evenly, even as his heart thudded in his chest, “My name is Carlos Reyes, I am an officer with the Austin Police department. I was investigating a report of suspicious activity at this location.”

The man continued to glare at him, “Are you here alone?”

Carlos shook his head, “No, my partner is here too. She’s on the other side of the building.”

The man didn’t say anything to that, he simply looked around Carlos, towards the table. Carlos cursed himself silently. He had moved the papers and blueprints around; it was clear that he had seen them. The man clearly came to the same conclusion as his expression had grown darker as he looked back at Carlos. There was silence for a few long moments before he spoke, “This needs to be done, you can’t stop me.”

Carlos swallowed, but took care to keep his expression even, “Why does it need to be done?”

The man scowled at him, “No questions. Just, keep quiet until I figure out what to do with you.”

Carlos nodded, and the room lapsed into silence. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this that didn’t involve a bullet in his head. He didn’t know if this man would actually use that gun he had pointed at Carlos, but it was safer to assume that he would - which took all plans of action off the table. Trying to talk him down would be his best bet, but he was still too on edge from the unexpected appearance of Carlos to start pressing his luck by breaking his mandated silence so soon.

They stood at an impasse, silently staring each other down until the sound of Carlos’s radio sliced through the heavy silence.

His radio beeped and Mya’s voice broke the tense silence, “I just finished my sweep, a whole lot of nothing - again. I’m heading back to the entrance - you done yet?”

Carlos didn’t move. He maintained his eye contact with the strange man, and spoke slowly, “That’s my partner; she’s wondering where I am. If she doesn’t hear from me she’s going to start looking and then you’ll have two of us messing up your plans. Can I respond to her?”

“Tell her to leave.”

“Okay, I’m reaching for my radio to do that,” Carlos slowly lowered his right hand to reach for his radio, heart hammering in his chest. He switched it on and responded, taking care to make sure that his voice was even, “Negative Officer Esquilin, proceed to the next location without me.”

He released the button and took a deep breath. He desperately hoped that she would be able to read between the lines. Somewhere between the formality and the fact that there was no next location, he had faith she’d figure it out. She was smarter than he was, after all.

When her response came, it was much more clipped than usual, “Please confirm last transmission Officer Reyes, you will be staying on scene?”

“Affirmative, Officer Esquilin.”

“Has there been any progress on our current objective?”

Carlos looked back up at the man in front of him, “Affirmative.”

There was a pause, a several second delay before Mya spoke again. When she did, she had dropped the pretense, “Carlos Reyes, you do not get to do something stupid without me.”

“Just get out of here, please.”

“I am not going anywhere! If you think for one second I am going to leave you behind you have clearly not been paying attention!”

The man in front of him put out his hand, “that’s enough, hand it over.”

Carlos clenched his radio one more time, “I’m sorry, Mya.”

Then he unstrapped his radio and tossed it to the other man. Even as it sailed across the room, he could still hear Mya’s voice coming through it, calling him all sorts of things. Her words were jumbled, but heavy with fear.

“Reyes if you die on me I swear to god I’m going to—“

Whatever threat she was making was cut off by a foot smashing his radio.

“I can’t have all that noise,” the other man said irritability, “I have to focus.”

He slid the duffel bag off his shoulder onto the ground between them. He slid down the zipper and pulled it open,  revealing a mess of wires and mechanics that Carlos could only assume was a bomb.

Maybe it wasn’t but given how today was going, he wasn’t too hopeful.  

Well, he thought wryly as he stood in a crumbling room of an abandoned building with a gun leveled at his chest; at least he had found the bomber.

[read the rest on ao3!]

[quixotic-writer]

Letting Loose

Song inspo: fuck away the pain/one night stand — divide the day

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend and kicking him out you begrudgingly head out for work at the bar. After talking it up with Q for a while, you decide tonight’s your night of fun and you invite him over, he gladly accepts and is willing to do anything to help relieve your tension.

Warning: Kinky smut ahead!!!

———————————————————

“Get the FUCK out of MY house.” I threw his suitcase of clothes out of the second story window and watched it fall onto the lawn with a loud thump that echoed through the whole neighborhood. I turn around to look at Devin and I glared at him. He smirked and walked towards me with open arms.

“C’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it.” He places his lips on mine and I shove him off, reel back my hand, and give him a hearty open palm slap across his cheek. “Ow! What the hell!?”

“First off: don’t ‘baby’ me, i’m over the charms. Second: The HELL do you mean you didn’t mean it? Did you not think when you ‘accidentally’ slipped your dick into her? Huh, Devin?” He continues rubbing his cheek and I feel proud of myself knowing that’ll leave a nice mark for him to explain. “I am dead serious this time. Get out, stay out. I see you back here EVER again and i’m calling the cops.” I point to the door for him to leave the room. With a moment’s hesitation he finally leaves, I watch from the window as he picks up the suitcase and drag it all the way to his car like the sad sap he is. His guilt tripping won’t work on me this time, and i’m pretty sure he notices that because he finally turns around to look at me through the window with a scowl.

“You’re a needy bitch. No one will ever put up with you like I did!” He yells before stepping into his car. I didn’t say anything back, just slammed the window closed and turned my back. He wasn’t worth another breath out of me. I slump down onto the bed face down and scream into the pillow. I don’t understand how I forgave him for cheating on me last time, I should’ve known he would have done it again. I was so naïve and stupid.

I continue mentally beating myself up and seethe in my own rage. My skin feels like it’s boiling and I have a tension in my head that feels like there’s a stretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. I don’t know whether or not I want to murder someone, break something, or just find a stranger and fuck them out of spite of my now tarnished relationship.

“Fuck.” I said out loud as I realized I had work tonight down at the bar at 3, I look over at the clock on my nightstand that read 1:00 in red neon numbers. I really don’t want to go especially with the range of emotions I was experiencing, but I had already called out of work so many times this month. If I called out one more time my boss would either hate me or fire me, I really don’t need the second one happening especially because now i’ll be taking on the rent by myself. Even with Devin around, he only paid for the bare minimum so not too much would be changing except a few additional shifts down at the bar. The epiphany of his bullshit only made me even angrier.

I soaked in the tub for a bit to get cleaned up for work and ease my tension just a bit. I take in the scent of lavender and carnations, close my eyes, and gently float my hands through the sudsy waters. It helped a little, but I could feel my nerve endings firing off in annoyance still feeling ready to pounce at any moment. Anything happens at work tonight and I won’t hesitate to give someone a piece of my mind, i’m so not in the mood to be dealing with bullshit of any kind.

I drive over to work blasting some metal music to try and release some of my anger by screaming along. Once I step through the door, I can already get a sense of how this shift is gonna go. It wasn’t a negative energy, but it wasn’t a positive energy either. It was just gonna be the same old same old kind of shift where nothing really happens. Though it’d be boring, i’d rather have that over a high energy night.

“Girl, maybe it’s just me, but your RBF is looking extra intimidating today.” Trin says from behind the counter. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’m not rolling my eyes at you. It’s fucking Devin.” Her eyes light up and her eyebrows flick up.

“Please tell me...”

“Yup. I’m over it. This time for good, i’m tired of being his play thing.” She gives me a big hug and is jumping a little as she holds me.

“Finally! He looked like he was dipped in fryer grease anyway. Now you just need to get something else good, and you know that one regular we have is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” She taps me with her elbow a couple of times and I laugh it off. I know who exactly she’s talking about, but I try to avoid giving her the satisfaction of giving out his name as I continue washing glasses behind the counter. “Quinn! That’s his name!” So much for avoiding that.

“His name’s actually Brian, but Quinn suits him better. Yeah he’s cute but why would he want me? Also doesn’t it seem kind of bad to rebound like that immediately after throwing my ex out?” I wasn’t going to deny that Q was cute, but i’d just feel bad using him as a rebound.

“Well first off, I think you’re a smoking hot piece of work that was too god for your ex. Second, you don’t seem sad about losing him, just mad that he was a dick that wasted your time and energy. Why not live for yourself a little and let loose?” She shrugs and goes back to serving drinks and making small talk with customers. She’s kind of right, I didn’t miss Devin and I wasn’t sad about losing him, I was just sad that I willingly allowed myself to be played and manipulated. Her words lingered in my ears as I continued working.

The afternoon slowly bleeds into the evening, it’s Tuesday so all our patrons are taking things slow and easy. It was a perfect pace for me to work at. Not too much work and bullshit, but just enough stuff to do to keep my mind occupied. Trin eventually clocks out for the evening and in her place one of our newbies, Trey, clocks in. It was perfect because I made him do most of the work to get a handle of how the ropes work in the bar. Seniority had its perks. I gossip with a few bar goers as they tell me their stories of their shit office jobs or complain about the typical New York traffic.

“There’s my second favorite bartender!” I turn my head as a deep voice thick with an accent diverts my attention away from one of my customers. There was Q, sitting himself at the counter smiling like a goof ball to me.

“Second favorite is all I get Quinn?” I say with a twinge of sass in my voice. “Shot of Jameson i’m guessing for the big boy to start off his night?” I lean over the bar and I notice his eyes take a quick peek at my slightly exposed cleavage that spilled from my tank top.

“You know it! Besides, you know my buddy Sal will always be at the top as far as bartending goes.” I get his drink ready and slide it over to him. He raises the glass to me with a smirk before he downs it in a swift gulp. I unknowingly stare at him with a slight glimmer in my eyes and he quickly catches me. “Staring’s rude y’know, sweetheart. Could I just get a nice brew also, please?” He says sliding the shot glass back over to me.

“Could say the same for you, Quinn.” I retort back going to clean up some of the dishes and serve up other drink to the few others surrounding him at the bar. I pour him his drink and set it down in front of him with a slight sneer.

“Someone’s on edge today. Been coming here long enough to know when something’s up with you.” The ring band he wears on his middle finger taps against his glass as he awaits a response to his query. My emotions are showing a bit too much tonight and I loathe myself for it, I always held myself to a standard to keep my private life hidden and not allow it to affect my performance at work.

“That obvious?” I say feeling guilty that I may have unintentionally taken some anger out on him. He chuckles a bit and leans in closer, resting his elbows on the counter top in anticipation to see if i’ll play along any further. “I’ll spare you the woeful details of my pitiful heartbreak if I can even call it that. Long story short: Boyfriend cheated and I got his sorry ass out of there.” He has a shocked look on his face and seems as though maybe he shouldn’t have asked. I cackle at his reaction.

“And you still came to work? That’s harder than any shot of whiskey i’ve ever done.” He rakes his hands through his hair as he sits back to process the information. I stare at his arms and his tattoos and his thick fingers. And I, for a second, imagined what it felt like if he held me close with those arms, what they’d feel like gripping my waist. Maybe Trin was right, maybe I need to let loose and have some fun all for myself.

“You know, I may be mad, but i’m sure as hell happy i’m not with him anymore. I’ve been over him for a while to tell you the truth, love was long out the door. He was so restricting it was ridiculous. Can’t wear this, can’t go there, blah blah blah. Don’t know why I put up with it for as long as I did or why I stuck around knowing I didn’t even love him anymore.” I say recalling all the stupid rules Devin had for me. I couldn’t wear anything ‘too revealing’ because it’ll attract ‘negative attention’ and he’ll be ‘embarrassed.’ I couldn’t go to certain places without him, it was all so manipulative because he could do whatever he wanted. If it wasn’t the cheating, the stupid rules would have been the next thing to make me want to dismember him.

“Let me buy you a shot sweetheart.” He slides some money over the counter and I graciously accept, i’d love a little buzz to get through this shift. “Cheers to getting him out of your life. You didn’t deserve that shit. No one does.” Sympathy. That’s something I haven’t seen a guy display in a while towards me. He raises his glass to me with a soft look in his puppy dog eyes and it made my heart feel full. I smile and raise my shot glass before downing the liquid that burns my esophagus as it travels down.

The night carries on, Q and I continue hitting it off and chat the night away in the dreadfully slow bar. We both get bolder and bolder and a little more flirtatious as the time passes. When I look over to the clock overhead, I notice my time in the bar is close to its expiration and even closer to a sense of newfound freedom. I eye Q up and down and I hear Trin’s voice echoing in the back of my head: let loose a little.

“So, Quinn, I’d love to continue this conversation and hang with you more after my shift is over. Maybe go to my place?” We both know where an invitation like this could lead, I chew on my bottom lip a little hoping to he says the words I want so badly to hear tonight. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and then I knew my wish was going to be granted.

“Thought you’d never ask sweetheart.” His fingers trace the rim of his empty glass and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. Every time he called me ‘sweetheart,’ it hit me in a whole new way. I go to clock out of work and wish an easy night to my coworkers before officially heading out. Q follows me out and we walk towards the parking lot.

“Shall I drive? I only had one shot and it has long worn off already.” I offer to Q. He hadn’t had much to drink, only a shot or two and a beer and I know he can handle his liquor pretty well, but i’d rather play it safe and be the designated driver for the evening.

“That would be much appreciated since i’m a little intoxicated, also because I have no clue where you live.” He jokes around. We both hop into my car and my music blasts through the speakers. It wasn’t just any music either, it was my Slipknot CD, the one I listen to when i’m especially mad. We both jump at the sudden cacophony of noise and I quickly bolt to turn down the volume. “That tells me exactly how pissed off you were earlier!” He chuckles and I cover my mouth in shame, speechless that the guy i’m trying to swoon just heard the hell that I listen to.

“This is the only thing I have in, I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel my face turning red.

“That’s fine, I don’t mind and i’d love to listen to something a little different for once.” I turn the volume back on and we start to head over to my house. The whole way there as we talked about nonsense, I could see Q out of the corner of my eye head banging to the music, and it eased my nerves in a weird way. Sharing music with someone is a deep form of intimacy to me, seeing someone enjoy what I play is something that fills me with no greater joy. As I catch occasional glances at him, the way the street lights illuminated his face and framed his features just made him seem even more attractive.

We pull into my driveway and I guide Q into my now quiet home. He seats himself on my couch and I mix up a glass of rum and coke for the two of us. I hand him his drink and take a seat right next to him. It was then where he really wanted to get into the nitty gritty of my recent relationship status update.

“So he had rules for what you could wear, where you could go, what you could do? Sounds like the jabberings of someone who’s insecure if you ask me.” He sips his drink. The amount of disgust Q has for the actions of my ex is so reassuring that i’m not crazy.

“Had I not been working tonight, I would have broken every single stupid rule he had for me. Especially the one about what I can wear, that one bugged me the most.” I had a whole outfit saved hidden away in the closet that I had kept secret. I had a sneaking feeling that things would have come to a messy end and bought it out of spite.

“I would kill to see you in it.” Seems as though he’s following in suit with my energy and he’s on the same page as I am. He looks me up and down and slides a hand on my thigh, I already feel my motor revving to go.

“Why leave it to the imagination when I could just give you a show?” His eyes flicker like a candle and I can feel his desires radiating off of his warm skin. I quickly hop up and disappear into my room. In my drawers I find my black lace lingerie that framed and clung to my body in the perfect ways sensing the outfit wouldn’t stay on for too long. Next in the closet I fish around for the wine red velvet halter crop top and the black pencil skirt I had stashed away. As the cherry on top on completed it all with the black platform heels I had.

I step down stairs and Q quietly takes in the view. I slowly walk closer towards him and stop as soon as i’m in front of him between his spread legs.

“Didn’t you know staring is rude, Quinn?” He’s clearly taken aback and I can see him struggling to keep it together. I straddle him and his hands feel over the curve of my ass and venture towards my hips where they rest. He stares in awe at the goods I have on display until he makes eye contact. Those chocolate brown eyes could tell a whole story, and I could never get tired of it. I bring our faces closer and lock our lips together in a deep kiss. “If we’re gonna be having fun tonight, we’re playing by my rules tonight.” I say in a dominating tone. It was my turn to have my way.

“If that’s what you want sweetheart, use me as you wish, call the shots tonight.” I devilishly smile as the sinful thoughts and ideas begin to pour into my head and I feel myself growing wet at the scenarios that play in my mind. Without another word, I take Q by his hand and drag him upstairs to the bedroom. I throw him on the bed and he throws his shirt off.

“So what are your limits Quinn? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded? Teased?” I say as my finger tips trace along his inner thighs, he groans a little at my touch.

“Kinky tonight aren’t we?” I remove my shirt and skirt to reveal the lingerie hidden underneath and go to grab some special items from deep within the closet. “I can handle anything you give me. But just in case, my safe-word is pumpernickel.” I stop in my tracks and try to stifle a laugh.

“Interesting word, but I will be sure to remember it. Now let’s get you out of those restricting pants.” I tug at his belt and remove his pants to reveal the tent that was hidden in his boxers. I rub him through the thing fabric and watch as he screws his eyes shut. “Oh you have no idea what you’re in for now Quinn. This hard already and i’ve barely even touched you.” I bring out the scarf I had and tie his wrists together and tie them up to the head board of the bed, leaving Q vulnerable and open. As a final piece, I place the blindfold over his eyes.

“I’m not allowed to see that smoking hot bod of yours? Now this is torture.” For a moment I look over his body, needy with lust filled desire and it’s eye candy to me. He restrains against the bondage around his wrists and his muscles flex for a moment and I feel myself pulsate at the sight. I lean in close to his ear, the fun begins now.

“Oh darling, there’s much more coming to you.” I crawl between his legs and rub over his sizable bulge and watch as his breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation. “You tell me when you’re close no matter what, if you cum too soon you’ll be punished. Don’t be afraid to make as much noise as you want, i’d love to hear what dirty noises come out of you. Never be afraid of using your safe-word, I may be in control but your well being still matters to me. Got it?” He whimpers underneath my touch.

“Yes, please continue it feels so fucking good.” I smirk as his mouth falls open letting his steamy hot breath escape. I lay a few kisses above the band of his boxers before taking the waist band in my teeth and slowly pulling them down to free his dick that stands at full attention before me. I quickly grab the hitachi wand from my toys and turn it on, a low humming sound fills the room and Q tenses up below me. I tease him a little and trace it along his inner thighs and just around his cock, but never touching it. “Please do something. Anything. I’m so hard please.” I smile because hearing him beg is truly a spectacle and something I wish I could hear all the time. His wish is my command and I place the the wand just below the head of his cock and his back arches off the bed and his fists clench above his head grabbing at the scarf to brace himself for the overwhelming and heightened sensation of pleasure that washes over him.

“Oh shit. God. Please more that feels so good.” I start running it up and down his length and watch as his hips convulse aching for more friction. “I’m close, holy fuck i’m close.” He confesses between moans and I quickly remove the toy and his dick twitches in attempts to find friction to chase the high it craves. Q whines at the loss of pleasure and it’s music to my ears.

“Not just yet. I haven’t even stripped down yet.” I remove my bra and panties and sit on top of Q’s hard on. I grind my hips and feel as his cock rubs against the folds of my dripping wet pussy. “Mmm~” A low hum falls out of my mouth because I know i’m in for quite a ride. He feels so thick and hard outside of my body in this moment, I could only imagine what it’d feel like inside of me. “How bad do you wanna cum?” I say teasing him in a pouty voice and all he can do is let out unintelligible babbles. “That’s not an answer Quinn.” I lift myself up and his groans only get louder and his feet kick at the sheets on the bed at the once again lost friction.

“Please I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.” I travel up his body until my navel hangs above his mouth, I can feel his steaming breath blowing on me and it only excites me more.

“Show me how bad.” I lower myself down and the moment he realizes what’s going on he quickly gets to work lapping up really fast at whatever his tongue could reach. “Fuck Q that feels so good.” I moan out to let him know he’s doing a good job. I lavish in the sensation of the wet warmth of his tongue plunging into me and circling around my clit, humming to add vibrations, hitting all my most sensitive spots. This man knew how to please a lady. I start grinding my hips to help him out a little as I feel my climax slowly beginning to approach. “I’m gonna cum Q keep fucking sucking on my clit like that.” Like a dog he quickly obeys and gives my wanted attention to my throbbing clit as he bites gently, sucks, and licks it I feel myself come undone and tremble through my high with a drawn out groan.

I decided he’s had enough torture and go to remove the blindfold. He quickly blinks his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dimly lit room after having that sense taken away. I lean down and kiss his lips that are soaked in my juices, moaning as I taste the liquid ecstasy, tongues tangles together in desperation. He hums back and I pull away to trail kisses from his jawline, to his neck, down to his chest, lower and lower until i’m met with his hard on that is leaking with a need for attention. I lick up whatever pre-cum resided on the tip and look up as he watches breathlessly.

“What’s wrong Quinn, cat got your tongue?”

“Quite the opposite. Bitch got my dick.” My eyes go wide and there’s no stopping the ugly laugh that escapes my mouth. It totally ruined the sexy dominating attitude I had going this whole evening but it was comical and swift on his part.

“Shut up that was terrible.” I say, still giggling a little bit. He gives a cocky smile in return.

“Make me.” Those were words he was soon going to mistake. I plunge down and take his whole cock into my mouth with my nose bouncing against his stomach. “Oh fuck!” He yells out at the suddenness of me taking him in. It sure did get him to stop talking as he dissolved into nothing but a moaning mess which only made me wet all over again. With each bob I take, I feel his hips start to match rhythms and start pounding against my face reaching in deeper as his tip hits the back of my throat and I gag a little. “I’m so close please let me cum dammit!” He cries out as the thrusts of his hips begins to falter but never losing power and I feel his dick twitch in my mouth. Just to torture him a little more, I slide him out of my mouth and back away so he falls away from the high he was so close to. “Please no, not again.”

“Just a little longer darling, all good things come to those who wait.” I straddle him again, but this time I line him up with my entrance, teasing myself as I rub his tip along my folds a little. I sink down slowly and Q’s mouth falls open and his head falls back at the sensation of finally being inside of me. I decided to reward him a little and lean up and remove the scarf that bounds his wrists. “Since you’ve been so good.” I say with a smirk. I slowly start to bounce my hips and feel as he slides in and out of me, hitting all the right spots that make it feel as though electricity is shooting out of every pore. Q’s hands grip at my hips so hard that I think that it might bruise, but it felt good and I knew I had built him up for so long tonight already.

In desperation and relishing the taste of his freedom, he starts slamming hard up into me and I knew he was close but he wasn’t going to say. Just as soon as he thought he had his way again, I tripped that thought away by stopping my movements and using my weight to hold his hips down against the mattress.

“Were you not going to tell me you were getting close?” He tries to use his hands to move my hips, but I wasn’t going to budge. I can feel him twitching like crazy in me and judging by his face he looks as though he’s going to be seeing beyond the stars when he finally releases all i’ve made him pent up. “Beg for it.”

“Sweetheart please i’m so close, this is the third time. You feel so good around me and I just want to cum.” The way he said sweetheart in a sad needy tone just made my heart melt. I release the weight I had on him and a fire ignites behind his eyes. He grabs my waist to hold me in place as he desperately thrusts into me getting faster and faster. I cum for a second time without warning as Q continues pounding into me relentlessly with feverish intent. I feel so oversensitive and i’m hunched over, leaning on top of Q as I whine from the overstimulation. It all came to a quick close with a final hard thrust he releases what felt like endless hot spurts of cum into me with a loud continuous throaty groan.

Finally we both lay there breathless and exhausting from what felt like the best sex i’ve had in ages.

“I haven’t had sex like that in a while.” I tell him as I push the now knotted, sweat drenched hair away from my face.

“I don’t think i’ve had sex like that ever. I don’t usually play sub, something about you got me down on my knees. Wanted you to have your fun.” I felt proud of myself for taking on the role, it felt empowering and a lot more satisfying. I could get used to this. “Y’know, I hope this isn’t just a one night stand because i’d kinda like to take you to a movie.”

“I think i’d like that a lot Quinn.” I say smiling and looking into the mocha puppy dog eyes that had me hooked from the start. Just when I had thought i’d have no chance throwing myself back into the dating ring, the universe drops the most unexpected twists into the tale. My twist: my favorite regular at the bar.

[whumpingcrow]

Pt.2 "Into the Belly of the Beast"

We don't see very much of Leo in my Elias pieces but I love him he's such a sweetheart. Also August and Elias's dynamic is SO sad and it just gets worse! :)))

CW: sensory deprivation, past mentions of abuse, injury mention, tourettes syndrome, ticcing, abduction, character tied up, creepy/intimate whumper, broken bone mention, drowning mention, knife mention, emotional manipulation (let me know if I missed anything!)

Leo woke up the next morning with a smile on his face, happy to have Allen back in his arms. He was pressed close against him, his hands gripping at Leo’s shirt and his legs wrapped up in his own. Leo pulled him closer, placing soft kisses into his hair and temple. He was so glad to have Allen back in bed, next to him. His husband, pressed against him in bed just like he was supposed to be. He felt Allen stir a little, and he pulled away just enough to look at him. He woke up with a whimper, shielding his eyes from the sun that was coming in from the window.

The night before, when they finally got home, Allen had explained a little bit of what happened with August. He told him that he had essentially kept him hidden away, discarded in a closet like something to be ashamed of. He told him that the majority of the time he was blindfolded and trapped with headphones that blared loud music. He explained how disorienting that had been, and how overwhelming seeing and hearing things were now. Leo was so disgusted every time that Allen talked about August, about the horrible, repulsive treatment he’d received. It just seemed to get worse every time Allen fell back into his claws, coming back with horrible scars and new traumas that seemed like they couldn't possibly be resolvable.

“Mm...bright.” Allen whined, burying his face into Leo’s chest to bring the darkness back. Leo was brought back to reality, how Allen was in his arms and not alone and hurting.

“Want me to close the curtains?” Leo asked. He waited for Allen to nod, then he stood up and pulled them the rest of the way closed. He returned to bed, pulling him back into his arms. “There. Better?”

“Thank you,” Allen sighed, looking up at Leo with a smile, “Good morning.”

“It is a good morning, isn’t it? I so badly missed waking up to you.” Allen laughed softly, bringing his hand up to play with Leo’s hair.

“You are so beautiful,” Allen breathed, “I’m so in love with you it’s dumb.”

Leo smiled at him, pulling him closer to kiss him. He pulled away as his phone rang on the bedside table next to him. He frowned as he saw that Tyson was calling. He was probably checking up on Allen, he had picked him up from the hospital in his bruised and battered state. He tried not to worry that Tyson would try to get close to him like he had done before, try to swoop in and rescue him before Leo even had a chance to. He sat up before he answered, looking away from Allen.

“What’s up, Ty?” He grumbled. He was annoyed at having this perfect moment interrupted, if he could have it his way he would hold Allen close all day, kissing his injuries better and making sure he was safe and comfortable. But Tyson didn't typically call him, and he figured he at least owed it to him to entertain him for a moment, to let him check up on Allen.

“Leo they fucking got Elias! The same freaks that got Allen, They got Elias!” His voice was rushed and absolutely panicked, threatening to collapse at any second. “They said they saw us with Allen and they took him!”

“Oh fuck.” Leo swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and his stomach queasy. “Did you call the cops?”

“Of course I did! But I think...I need Allen’s help, he knows August, he might be able to help find him.” Tyson's voice sounded so strained, and Leo knew the panic he was feeling all too well.

He assured him he would talk to Allen, asked him to come over so they could figure things out together. In a way, a sick, twisted way he wished he didn’t, he was relieved that at least it wasn’t Allen again.

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

Elias was struggling hard against the rope he’d been tied up with, his whole body trembling. Every few seconds he ticced, his tourettes even worse under the panic. He didn’t understand what was happening, why he’d been shoved into a truck with a gun to his head, why they now had him tied up in a pitch black room. When he was woken up in the middle of the night with a gun to his head, it was pretty hard to understand what was happening. He could hear Tyson and someone else shouting at each other, but their words didn’t make sense, he couldn’t hear anything beyond his panicked thoughts and fearful breathing.

“Let me the fuck go!” He cried. “Fucking cocksuckers! Fucking cunts!” He pulled hard against the ropes again, groaning when they didn’t budge. Suddenly, the room lit up as someone came in, and he looked up at them with a glare. He didn’t want to show how scared he was, so he tried looking mean instead. He didn’t think it worked, his panic was so raw that it was hard to mask it.

“You’re being very noisy in here,” the man said, twisting a knife around as he stepped closer. “You know, yelling isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“What the fuck are you doing this for?!” He ticced again, grimacing at the pain it brought on.

“We saw you with Allen. Allen got us into loads of trouble, so we figured we’d get a little bit of pay back.”

“Fucking shit I hardly even know the guy! Let me fucking go!” He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, maybe if he wasn’t yelling he would be given some mercy, at least enough to loosen the ropes digging into his skin. “Please. Please just let me go.”

“No can do, buddy. August has taken quite a liking to you, and he’ll be here soon. He’s gotta have a new plaything.” Elias felt a chill run down his spine at the name. August, the one who had left Allen in a hospital bed, poisoned his food, made him think he deserved that pain. Now he was going to do the same to Elias. The man stepped close, pressing the knife against his neck, leaning toward him. “You’ve gotta quiet down, though. You’ve got a loud mouth.”

“Ok. I...fuck...I will.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight until the knife was pulled away, then jerked his head to the side. The person left again, leaving Elias in the dark room.

Hours passed, and Elias grew rather tired and sore. He leaned back in the chair, exasperated beyond belief and aching from how hard he was trying not to tic and yell. He wondered if Tyson was going to look for him, if he’d called the police yet. He would like to hope so. His wrists were burning from tugging against the ropes, his spine stinging from the cold metal chair digging into it. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to go home. To Tyson.

The door opened again, but this time it was someone different standing and staring at him. “You look rather scared, the man said, reaching up and turning on a harsh light. Elias flinched and looked up at him with fear filled eyes. “They got you tied up tight, don’t they?”

Elias only stared back at him, hoping he didn’t look as scared as he felt. “You’re August?” He squeaked. “You were...you were with Allen.” He leaned back as much as he could as August closed in on him, eyes wide.

“Mhm. Until he betrayed me. But that doesn’t matter, I’ve got you now.” He grabbed Elias’s face harshly, smiling when he gasped a little. “And you are so pretty, so unscathed. Ah, I’m going to have so much fun breaking you.”

“You’re fucking disgusting.” Elias said, trying to pull out of his grip. “You pig!” He gasped as August slapped him across the cheek, then looked away from him. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t me! I have tourettes!”

August grinned down at him, seemingly entertained by him. “I see. You ready to leave then?”

“Leave? Where?” he grimaced as August pulled him off of the chair and to his feet, grabbing tightly at the ropes binding his wrists together.

“Home, sweetheart.”

‘Home’ was a large house in the middle of nowhere. It was spacious and open, large windows and wooden floors, and Elias wondered how August had gotten such a huge place. Then he wondered why he wasn’t in jail, like Tyson told him he should be. His thoughts were diminished as he was tossed to the floor like a piece of garbage. He cried out in pain, looking up at August with a frown.

“What a lovely sound,” August mused, kneeling down next to him. “I bet you’d like to be untied now, huh?”

“Yeah no shit,” his eyes widened at his words, and he shrunk away from August. “Sorry! Sorry!”

August grinned at his apology, but he hit him anyway, just to hear him cry out again. “You’ll learn not to speak to me that way in no time.”

“But I didn’t mean it!” He insisted.

August laughed, pulling him up to his feet again. “I’ll untie you,” he began, then dropped his voice to a low growl, “but if you try to run I’ll break your fucking legs.”

“I won’t run. I won’t.” Elias promised. August looked at him questioningly, holding his arms still. “I swear.” He bit his tongue, trying with everything he had not to yell.

Finally August turned him around, keeping his hand tight around his shoulder. He pressed himself close against his back, making Elias tense. The ropes loosened from his wrists, and he sighed as he brought his arms to the front of him to rub the burns out of his wrists.

“Better?” August asked, stroking his thumbs against his arms gently.

“Yeah.” He ticced again, his neck aching. He missed Tyson, who was always so quick to comfort him when he could tell how bothered he was by it. Even if he couldn’t necessarily do anything to stop it, it was nice to be held or rocked through it. August’s touch was nothing but possessive and wrong.

“Wanna go for a swim?” He was turned back to August, who smiled down at him.

“Uh...sure?” Elias was already being pulled out to the back yard where a huge pool waited. He looked at August with a confused frown, not sure what was going on, why he wasn’t being beaten or stabbed, which is what he thought would happen by what Tyson told him.

August pulled away from him, pulling off his clothes and setting them to the side Elias shrugged and then pulled his own shirt off. He shrunk away from August as he placed his hand against his torso.

“Don’t be that way, I’m just trying to get a good look at you.” He grabbed Elias forcefully this time, turning him towards him. “Wow, you’re so small.” So small to him meant he could throw him around, pin him down whenever he wanted. He looked him up and down, at his unruly blond hair, his wide blue eyes. His skin was so pale and smooth, so different from Allen. As he thought about it, Elias was different from Allen in many ways, essentially the opposite of him. Maybe that’s what he liked about him, no matter how obsessed he was with him, maybe he just needed a change.

Elias frowned at him, then was quickly hoisted up and over August's shoulder, making Elias gasp and writhe. He couldn’t even make any words out before he hit the water, and August laughed to himself before jumping in after him. When Elias swam back to the surface he was gasping and sputtering, trying to catch his breath.

“You dickbag!" He huffed, splashing water at August to get him back.

“That a tic?” He checked, making his way closer.

“No, I was saying that because you-” he was cut off as August pushed him back underwater, this time holding him there. Elias struggled against him. Clawing at his arms and trying to push his way back to the surface. His lungs ached from not being able to breathe, and just when he felt lightheaded, he was pulled back to the surface. August held onto his hair tightly as he caught his breath, staring him down.

“Come on, man!” He gasped, trying to pull away from him. “Don’t do that to me!”

August laughed at him. At his breathlessness and his defiance. “So cute that you think I’ll listen to you.” Hshoved him back underwater, feeling him kicking and thrashing against him. He held him down for longer this time, testing how long he could last. When he felt his fight weaken a little, he yanked him back up.

“Are you done being mouthy? Cause I could do this shit all day, pretty boy.”

Elias was gasping harder now, weak in August’s grasp. He couldn’t speak through his ragged breathing, but he was whimpering just a little.

“What, suddenly you’re not talkative?” August teased. “Suit yourself.”

“No-!” Elias cried out before he was pushed under yet again. His chest was burning, his head pounding from not being able to breathe. He didn’t fight this time, simply grabbed at August’s wrist tightly and waited, hoped, for him to pull him back up. Finally, he was hoisted up to the surface, shuddery breaths coming in short spurts. He collapsed against August, too weak to stand on his own.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed, “no more. No more.”

August chuckled softly, dropping his hand from Elias’s hair and to his shoulders. “There you go. Good.”

When Elias could breathe again, he pulled off of August, wiping the stinging chlorine from his eyes. He felt tired and shaky, he wanted to go back to Tyson. He wanted to lay in bed with him and sleep for a long time, he wanted to watch him draw for a while.

He waded over to the wall, turning away from August to lean his face against it. He closed his eyes tightly, too tired to even tic. He felt August next to him, his arm brushing against him.

“What’s got you all butthurt?”

Elias looked at him, frowning. “I miss my boyfriend.”

August laughed, “who Tyson? You shouldn’t waste your energy on him. Trust me, he’s not even thinking about you right now.”

“What? Of course he is.”

“Are you kidding? Tyson, who’s still madly in love with Allen? Who practically offered you up once he realized it meant we would leave Allen alone? That guy couldn’t wait to get rid of you.”

“You’re...You’re lying.” Elias looked away from him, shaking his head.

“Am I?” August grabbed his face and tilted his chin up towards him. “Think about it, how would we know to go to his place and take you, of all people?”

Elias felt tears in his eyes, not wanting to believe these harsh things. “Ty cares about me.”

“Maybe. But not as much as he cares about Allen.”

Elias held his breath, his jaw clenched and shoulders tensed. “I want to be done swimming now. Fuck.”

August sighed, pulling Elias against his chest. “It’s gonna be ok. I’ll take care of you. I’ll teach you right from wrong, yeah?” He began to stroke his hair gently, and even though Elias hated his guts for holding him underwater and saying all those awful things, it felt nice to be held and pet.

“Ok,” Elias whispered, trying to get the subject to change, “can we go inside now?”

“You don’t wanna continue this awesome pool party?” August joked. Elias huffed, pulling away from him.

“Sure, but this time how 'bout I try to drown you?” He grabbed August’s shoulders, trying to knock him over. He was much too small though, and August grabbed him and tossed him again, laughing at him.

“You gotta try a little harder than that, sweetheart.”He teased. He laughed as Elias jumped on him again, trying hard to tip him.

This went on for just a while longer before Elias was even more tired out, and he couldn’t jump around anymore. He got out, sitting on the edge with the sun shining on him. August followed after him, leaning back and smiling.

Elias tried not to move away from him when he began to stroke his back mindlessly. He saw how explosive he had been when he’d even just talked in a way he didn’t like, he was too scared to do anything else to upset him. He remembered Allen being in the hospital, how bruised up he was.

“Are you gonna hurt me?” he whispered.

August leaned forward to look at him. “Not anything you can’t handle. And like I said, just to teach you.” He felt Elias tense up under his hand, and he smiled. “Relax, baby. No need to stress yourself out.”

Elias stared at him, a deep frown on his face. “I’m scared.” He admitted, feeling the same lump in his throat as he felt earlier when he was told about Tyson. “I saw what you did to Allen, I’m really scared.” This was new for him, to admit his fears. He was so used to spitting in the face of anything that upset him, so used to burying his fears so deep down that they morphed into fury. He was surprised to hear himself admitting it to this stranger, but he knew that his usual ways, his fighting, “fuck you” attitude would only make this situation worse.

August scoffed and stood up, holding out his hand to help him up. “Allen was a fucking mess who didn’t know how to listen. As long as you listen everything will be ok.” He was lying, of course, he was going to have his fun with Elias the same way he had with Allen. But it was not as fun when he was nervously awaiting it, better when he didn’t expect it.

August pulled him inside and led him to the bedroom, digging through his closet until he found one of his over-sized hoodies. He pulled it over Elias’s head, helping him get his arms through. He was swimming in it, the sleeves drooping over his hands and his thin legs sticking out of it. August smiled, ruffling his damp hair. “Very cute,” he admired, “you look nice in it.”

Elias looked down, annoyed at the compliment from this near stranger. He could feel his eyes on him as he ticced, and he hated it. Tyson usually helped him calm down when it was this bad, usually comforted him as much as he could through it. But now Tyson had gotten rid of him, he had given him to this terrifying stranger to keep someone else safe. “Fuck,” he grimaced, closing his eyes, “fucking cunt! S-sorry.”

“That’s ok, love. Let’s go rest on the couch for a bit, yeah?”

Elias shrugged, it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he was with August and in danger, on the couch or in the pool, he was going to be scared. He followed August out to the living room, where he was pulled onto the couch next to him. He sighed heavily, then it was cut off with a gasp as August yanked him so his head was resting in his lap. Elias closed his eyes and let himself be stroked and pet like some sick prize, trying not to think of anything but that feeling.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Heavy in Your Arms

Prologue

Summary/Author’s Note:  Back from the service and hell bent on drinking his way through Southern California, Tig Trager is a rambler. He's alone, he's lost, and he likes it that way. He stumbles into Charming, a quiet town with a large presence in the form of the motorcycle club. Here he finds more than he bargained for, and something else he never thought he would deserve.

I got a message about this story awhile back and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. This is the story Tig fans begged S*tter for and he never delivered. I have really been missing Tig lately so I edited this from its original form that I posted seven years ago. I originally posted this as an OC under the pen name thatlassiegotglassed - Which was my original AO3 back when I was foolishly ashamed of my fic. Now I don’t give a fuck. 

Pairing: Tig Trager x Reader Word Count: 1624 Rating/Warnings: Language, death, violence, blood, typical SOA stuff, eventual smut

[Masterlist] [One Shots/Drabbles]

--

"Yeah, I dumped an FXR on the I-5 and the poor bitch slid right in front of oncoming traffic...Found out she was pregnant. Really loved that one..."

June 21st, 1993

The roar of the big trucks and the swishing of the smaller cars blazing down the freeway filled his ears and would have been calming, but they were out of place. He had been asleep, safe in his own bed, the cars from the road had never been this loud. He shifted slightly and instead of cool sheets under his hand, he felt the grit of the blacktop and the wet clumps of side-road sand, rough against his skin. He did what he did every morning and slid his hand down, looking for you. You would hum contently as he wrapped his big hand around your hip and pulled you back against him so he could smell your hair, nose you awake--but he wasn’t in bed. 

He had had a dream, a wonderful dream, that he had been riding. His hands had gripped the handles as the sun played hide and seek with the oncoming rain clouds. The crisp smell of the spring air had tickled his nose and filled his lungs as trees and the tall grasses of the fields outside the city whipped passed him. You were a comforting weight at his back, and every time you squeezed your arms around his middle it brought a smile to his face. 

The weight on his head let him know he was still wearing his helmet. With slow movements, he reached up and unclipped it, shoving it off and letting it bounce against the road.

Everything hurt. Fuck. He coughed, the movement pressing his cheek back to the cool blacktop, the air from his mouth blew dust particles up and made him shut his eyes. 

Except this was no dream. And you weren’t next to him.

Shit.

He had been riding and it started to rain, and the semi cut him off and--

“Doll?” he said, his voice feeling like razor blades down his throat. He repeated but with your real name, hoping it would get your attention more than any of his terms of endearment. 

When you didn't answer, he knew something was wrong. A silence had fallen around him, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, as he saw your body laying twenty feet from him. Your helmet had fallen off, hair spilled to the side, blood flecked your temples and down your cheeks.

He started crawling, using his forearms to drag himself closer to you as other cars came to a halt and people started yelling. If he got to you, if he reached you--everything would be okay. You would be okay.

You had to be. 

--

January 1st, 1991. Somewhere in Southern California

He had met you on a Friday. A pretty calm day, where the world was relaxed in a way that he was not. How could he be? Alexander 'Tig' Trager was, how did they say, 'fresh off the boat', back from his service, he had made it. But, he wasn't concerned with doing it ever again.

The whiskey burned his throat. It was cheap but it was plentiful and he had no plans on stopping. He would take that pathetic government check and he would put it in the pocket of the first shitty dive bar he found.

“Hey, doll!” he said, raising his empty glass at a leggy blonde standing by the bar and shaking it slightly.

She gave him a scowl, turned her nose up and quickly walked back over to a different table to sit down with her small group of friends. Apparently, she didn't work here. Shit. He almost felt like an ass. Almost. The feeling quickly went away and he contemplated getting up for a refill.

“Hey, if you're not using it, then get off.” A gruff voice said from behind him.

Tig looked over his sun glasses at a large man. The man was obviously referring to the fact that he was sitting on the pool table. With a neck that seemed to thick for his face, and large, ape-like arms that dangled worthlessly at his sides, Tig knew if it came to blows, this asshole was toast. He hadn't had a good fight in awhile and just one look told him that this could be the itch he needed to scratch.

He put a cigarette between his lips and took his time lighting it. With a lazy hand, he pushed his glasses into his short, black hair. “But I am using it, man.”

“Move.”

“Nah--”

“Listen, pretty boy--”

“Pretty boy?” Tig said. His blue eyes flashed and he smiled. The second was one of his true talents, he could twist his lips and flash his teeth, in a way that made men run for the hills and made women fall out of their skirts...or so he had been told. “I've been called lots of things, brother. But that?”

“Just move your ass, okay?” the ape-man said as he jerked a thumb back towards the bar.

Tig didn't like being told what to do. It was one of his weaknesses according to his higher-ups in uniform. They had tried to break him, get him to bend and take one in the ass for Uncle Sam, but he refused. He wasn't about to do it for some low life in some shitty, middle-of-no-where bar.

He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke over his shoulder. His pulse evened out, his breathing stayed calm, his subconscious entered that special place right before he spilled someone's blood on the pavement.

“Alright, one,” the guy started to count. 

“Oh, you’re counting, now?”

“Two.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Two and a half.”

“Three,” Tig finished for him and pressed the lit end of his smoke into the man's forehead. He may have looked like an ape, but the bastard squealed like a pig. He brought his elbow down in the middle of the man's back as he doubled over and clutched his face. Tig shoved him to the side as one of his friends came at him at a run.

“Fucker!” the second man yelled and managed to land a solid right hook to Tig's cheek.

The prick was wearing rings and Tig knew there would be blood without even looking. As he fell back against the pool table, it screeched across the hardwood floor and a few patrons jumped out of the way. His hand landed in a puddle of beer as he knocked a glass over on the felt and his brief moment of mourning was cut short by another blow to his face. That did it.

With a growl, he headbutted the other man. Skull connected with skull and he gripped his shirt, jerking him towards him before he could fall and sunk his teeth into the man's ear. Tig dug his hands into his hair and shoulder, kept his neck at a ninety degree angle and didn't stop till he felt the skin split between his teeth.

“Fucking psycho!” the man stumbled back and the ape man was back on his feet, yelling, arms stretched out and headed for Tig's neck.

Tig met him head on, bringing a firm right hook into his gut and bringing his knee up to collide with his face as the man doubled over in pain. He reached back and grabbed one of the pool balls, twisting around until it connected with the ape-man's temple. The sound was sickening and he dropped like a brick.

Tig raised up and could feel the first drop of blood slide down his cheek. He reached for his beer and pulled up an empty bottle. Dammit. What a waste. He flung it lazily over his shoulder and grit his teeth when it smashed against the wall.

“You owe me a beer,” he said, giving the man on the ground a kick. He didn't move. The fucker was out cold. He looked at the other man, still holding his bleeding ear and looking at Tig like he was about to start foaming at the mouth. “You gonna pay for it?”

The man just stood there, mouth open like a fish. Tig stooped and dug around in ape-man's pocket until he found his wallet and snatched a twenty-dollar bill from the main compartment. It'd have to do.

He heard the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked and he looked up just as the bartender and apparent owner of the place was pointing the barrel at his chest.

“Get out, Mister,” he said, firmly. “I'll call the cops.”

“They started it,” Tig said, stuffing the money in his back pocket.

“Well, I'll finish it,” the owner answered, jerking the end of the gun towards the door. “Get out.”

“Gladly,” Tig said, grabbing his leather jacket off the end of the pool table. “This place is a fuckin' dump, anyway, man.”

The man with the ear, or well, lack thereof now, gave him a wide birth as he pushed through the double doors and onto the dark street. He pulled his packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, only to flip the top open and find it empty.

“God dammit,” he cursed, tossing the box across the lot. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It looked like he'd have to make a stop on the way home.

He threw his leg over his motorcycle and turned on the headlight. A deep glow lit up a small section of the dark parking lot as he kicked it to life and left the pathetic excuse for a pub in the dust.

--

Tell me if you wanna be tagged. I didn’t tag my Perm Tag List because I know you guys are all here for my Pedro Pascal character Fics so---I was not sure if anyone would wanna be tagged in Sons stuff.