#the showers have been dangerous since Psycho

[the-writer-arrived]

Dan Heng NSFW Alphabet

Synopsis: let's take a peek on how your lover is in bed, shall we?

Character: dan heng.

Warnings: afab!reader; reader is part of the astral express but isn't the trailblazer; spoilers about dan heng's past and his companion mission.

A/N: in celebration for dan heng imbibitor lunae release (finally!!), i give you all this! may our dragon boyfie come home to all who wants him <3

(p.s. that mf made me lose the 50/50 💀 his light cone better come home 😭.)

(edit: IT WORKED HIS LIGHT CONE CAME ON THE 31 😭😭😭😭)

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dan Heng's nickname in Belobog's fight club may be "Cold Dragon Young", but he's anything but cold to you especially after sex.

After your sexual lives began, Dan Heng made sure to always have a box of tissues, a towel and a bottle of water at hand's reach.

He prefers to do the deed in your room instead of his since, you know, it's the Express databank...

Therefore, those things are usually inside a drawer of your nightstand for easier access to the both of you.

Also cuddling is a must for him.

On days Dan Heng is feeling particularly clingy, he will wrap his arms AND tail around you, not minding the feeling of your sweaty and sticky bodies.

But don't worry, he will take you to the bathroom to clean you and him in the shower/bath, before returning to bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If someone had asked him that before he got together with you, he wouldn't know what to answer.

Now, however, he'd answer his hands.

Curiously enough, you've always been fascinated by Dan Heng's hands.

You loved holding it, playing with his fingers, saying they were so soft, even softer than your own!

You also loved dragging him to the sleepovers in March's room, which you would paint your boyfriend's nails while March would do the Trailblazer's.

Now, about his favorite body part of yours, it's an easy answer: your neck.

It goes hand in hand with his kink (or rather, instinct) of marking you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums an embarrassing (to him) amount.

Although the Vidyadhara can't have offsprings, they still are a dragon species and, considering Dan Heng has a much closer conection to the water dragon he controls, his instincts are stronger than others of his kin.

Yes, this is just a roundabout way to say he has a breeding kink

It's usually thick and gooey, but when he's in heat, it becomes more watery.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you joined the Astral Express, you were sure Dan Heng disliked you.

Although he was never outright rude to you during the (very few) interactions you two had in the beggining, he would never be in the same room as you.

Himeko assured you that the young man was just shy, but even she was at a loss at that unusual behavior of his.

Dan Heng was avoiding you, yes, but it wasn't because he hated your guts or anything.

It was because your scent was driving him crazy.

The second he landed his eyes on you, your scent invaded his system and every single fiber of his being was being pulled to you.

But he couldn't, he shouldn't. There was too much danger in his life.

But by the Aeons... He had to do something, or else he might lose his mind.

So, when everyone in the train was asleep, Dan Heng would let his thoughts be consumed by you and guide his hand to his shaft...

He would rather go through molting rebirth again than admit he did such debauchery to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

My guy has been in the Shackling Prison ever since he was born and after being banished from the Luofu, he had to keep looking over his shoulder for a psycho who's out for his blood.

It's suffice to say that Dan Heng doesn't have any experience in relationships or sex.

Please have patience with him, he will fumble but he really wants to make you feel good :(

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I believe Dan Heng would prefer positions which he can see your face, be it directly or through a mirror's reflection.

What he must have, however, is access to your neck, his favorite body part of yours as mentioned on B.

So, if you do positions like cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, you can expect to have a restless (dragon) lover under you, squirming for wanting to have you closer in order to mark your pretty skin.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely not one to be funny in bed... intentionally, that is.

Have you seen him throwing peace signs when the Silvermane Guards were pursuing the trio in Jarilo-VI?

Or him doing that when March took a photo of him next to the High Elder statue on that short animation?

Or even the things he says with the most poker face ever?

Anyway, what I mean to say is that Dan Heng is funny without trying to and that (unfortunately to him) sometimes happen in bed.

He will huff while you're giggling with yourself, before bringing you back to the right mood with a searing kiss.

What were you laughing at again? I don't know, maybe you should focus on those hypnotizing eyes darkened with lust staring down at you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As said on E, Dan Heng doesn't have much experience in relationships, therefore never really worried that much about pubic hair.

After joining the Express and having a safe place to be, he would groom himself and trim a bit just so it wasn't too much or too long.

Now that he's with you, he likes to keep his bush small and very well groomed, so it won't bother your nose when you suck him off.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His draconic instincts aside, Dan Heng really, really, REALLY enjoys keeping you in his arms.

99% of the time you guys "make love" instead of fucking.

This is the first time in his life (as Dan Heng) that he feels utterly safe and conected with someone in so many different aspects.

When he says "I love you" during the deed, it comes from the deepest, most precious part of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Honestly, he used to masturbate more before you two got together.

Again, he will never tell you that or, at least, not any time soon...

Now? It's rare for him to do it.

If he's in the mood, usually you are as well.

Sure, mutual masturbation is hot and all, but he'd much rather be inside your warm and inviting pussy.

The only time he'll jack off is when you are away from each other in trailblazing missions.

You know Dan Heng will try to hold off touching himself until he can go back to the Express, but he becomes soooo snappy and with a permanent frown on his face.

So, please, send him some photos of you or audios to break his resolve and make him relax a little until he returns to your side.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As mentioned in the very begginning of the list, I am 100% sure Dan Heng has a breeding kink, even if he can't procreate.

It's such a filthy sight, your hole fluttering after he pulls out, your mixed fluids leaking from it... A voice, primal, in the back of his mind telling him he should push it back inside or, even better, stuff you with his cum once again...

He can't get enough of it.

Also, you won't leave the bed without at least a dozen marks on your skin.

Bites, hickeys, marks of his fingers for gripping you too tightly... You'll see all of that and more on the morning after.

Your boyfriend is considerate enough to not leave them on places you can't hide with your clother or make up.

...Unless you made him jealous on purpose or has been teasing him throughout the day.

I guess scent kink is also a thing for him.

You almost make him delirious with lust when you're on your ovulating period.

Praise your guy to your heart's content, it works wonders when you want Dan Heng to let loose and fuck your brains.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

No matter how horny he is, Dan Heng will only touch you on the privacy of the bedroom.

Preferably yours since he doesn't really have a bed on the Data Bank Archieves.

Which is fine, considering he basically moved to your room.

The reason for that is the comfort and sense of security the private space gives him.

He doesn't have to be on alert for any kind of danger and can give you his undivided attention.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Call him corny, but it's when you show him you love him.

For most of his life, he has been followed by the shadow of Dan Feng and his deeds, both good and bad.

Even after Jing Yuan revoked his banishment from the Luofu, there are still many people, especially the Vidyadhara, who look at him with contempt.

Not to mention Blade hunting him through the universe to make him pay the price for his Dan Feng's sins.

So, when you cup his cheeks, stare at his eyes so softly and tell him you love him for who he is, not the shadow of his precious reincarnation...

His heart can't barely handle all the feelings that well up inside.

Dan Heng tries his best to show you how he feels by the breathtaking kisses and relentless pace of his hips snapping with yours, with chants of your name like a devotee does to their beloved deity.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you enjoy feeling a bit of pain in bed, I'm sorry to tell you, but Dan Heng refuses to do anything that may cause even the tiniest bit of pain to you...

Okay, it's not like he'll NEVER do it if you do enjoy it, but it'll take a lot of coaxing and reassurance.

His worst nightmare is to hurt you in any shape or form.

One thing that he will not do, no matter what, is share you.

So no threesome with Blade, sorry.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I see Dan Heng as the giver type, to be honest.

Not that he dislikes you sucking him off, far from it!

He just adores being nestled between your thighs, your drooling cunt on his mouth...

And if you convince him to eat you out on his Imbibitor Lunae form? It's a sure way to send you to heaven.

Grab his horns like your lifeline, it will make him moan into your folds and grind his cock onto the bed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On normal days, the pace is slow but deep.

No matter how much you ask, beg, demand for your lover to go faster, he won't and it drives you crazy (in a good way).

He's addicted to the way your core tightens around his member like a vice when you're so close to the edge.

Only then he will concede to your wishes, so you can cum together.

When he's in heat? Good luck walking tomorrow soldier 🫡

Each of his thrusts are so deep, so fast, so hard, but never deep enough, never fast enough, never hard enough to satisfy his desires.

I hope your bed is strong enough to survive the whole night.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't like it.

To Dan Heng, being physically intimate with you requires a process, a moment when the two of you tune out the world and just focus on each other.

Like I said on P, he likes to take his time with you, to really feel every single inch of you.

Sure, there are times when both of you are too horny to wait until you are in the comfort of your bedroom and there's too little time to spare.

Even so, quickies don't satisfy him completely.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Another thing that he doesn't enjoy it.

Dan Heng is a bit self conscious about the thought of other people hearing or, Aeons forbid, see you two doing it.

A spoiler for the V part, but this guy isn't exactly quiet during the fun 🤫

That's one of the reasons why doing it on a public or semi-public place is a no for him.

Using a vibrator though, especially on him, now that's something that may happen.

Again, it'll take some coaxing from you, but there's a bigger chance of him agreeing in the end.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Even when Dan Heng is in his human form, his stamina is above average.

When he's in heat? Again, good luck walking tomorrow.

If it was up to his draconic desires, he would go all night without a break.

Fortunately for you, he can hold on to his senses enough to remember that you would not survive if that happened.

You'd die happy, but he doesn't want to lose you.

On the morning after, you two are "gently" reminded by Himeko and Welt that there are other passengers on the Express and everyone would very much like to sleep in peace ✨

Poor March had to sleep over with the Trailblazer in their room, which was the furthest from yours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Our boy knows what a dildo and a vibrator are on theory, never tried them himself.

You'll have to be the one to introduce them in the relationship, if you want to.

I see Dan Heng as a switch, leaning to the sub side tbh.

With that in mind, I believe the toys are used more frequently on him than on you.

His favorite is those vibrators that can be controlled by a phone app, it's discreet and you can keep your partner on their toes.

His collection isn't big, maybe he owns two or three at max.

His first sex toy was one of those male masturbators, a gift from you.

Poor guy was so confused on what the hell that thing was (totally understandable, some of those look like a blender???).

Needless to say that his face turned red in no time after your explanation.

It doesn't come close to your hands and mouth, but it does a good job when you two can't be together for whatever reason.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If there is someone who loves to tease to hell and back, it's you.

You can't help it! Dan Heng looks sooooo adorable, trying his hardest to keep a straight face while a pink tint warms his cheeks.

Your teasing can go two ways: you may have him whimpering and begging for more under you OR he will retaliate and have you whimpering and begging for forgiveness under him.

In any case, you see it as a win in your book ✨

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

*Me, speaking into the mic.* Dan Heng is a whimperer and whinier.

*The crowd boos and I leave with my head down.*

She's right! *There is a yell coming from the back.*

*It's you, with Dan Heng dying from embarrasment next to you.*

Jokes aside, I do believe our Cold Dragon Young isn't loud per se, but a whimperer for sure.

He's embarrassed by that, so he does all he can to keep his sounds at bay.

When he's in Hot Dragon Young mode, he'll do a 180°.

Embarrassed? Shy? Quiet? Not Vidyadhara Dan Heng.

He growls, he moans, he curses, he straight up purrs the more he pounds and bullies your pussy with his cock(s).

Yes, he has two, it's a consensus between writers and artists.

Please gift everyone in the Astral Express ear buds, they will need them.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite having a breeding kink, of course Dan Heng is aware his species isn't fertile.

He knows there are no chances of him creating a new life by the conventional means of procreation.

And yet... Watching you interact with Hook and the other children of Belobog... Watching you hold Bailu in your arms...

He can't help but daydream of the 'what ifs' and 'would be'.

If he could, he wonders what would your child be like?

Would they look more like you? Or him?

Would they have similar personality to you or him? Perhaps a mix of both?

Would they inherit his draconic features?

...Would they have a long life span like him?

...Would they still be by his side, after your passing..?

...Will he even be able to handle to live a life without you once again...?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I am terrible at describing things, let alone dicks of fictional characters, so bear with me OTL

Okay, so, it's been established that Dan Heng has two cocks. Good? Good.

I like to think that they also change when he turns into his original appearance.

Human Dan Heng: only one dick, but still has a bit more length than average, on the thiner spectrum, slightly curved upward

Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng: two dicks, a growth in girth to leave you full but not stuffed, the veins are more proeminent.

How does one describe a pretty dick? Idk, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when you see it.

He's a pretty guy after all.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I know I've talking about his heat period like a broken record, but that's because watching aloof characters becoming crazy with lust makes me absolutely feral 🥴

But honestly? Among all the Honkai Star Rail men, I see Dan Heng with the lowest sex drive.

Not that he isn't interested in you physically, far from it! He adores your body and when you show it off to tease him, it's always very effective.

It's just that I see he has bigger emotional needs than sexual needs in the daily life.

Lover boy can go two, three days without having sex with you just fine.

It depends more on how is your sex drive.

If you ask him, he'll gladly go down on you whenever you wish.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dan Heng will only fall asleep after you do.

It comes from a desire to protect you from anything and everything.

He won't allow himself to completely rest until you are fully comfortable and in deep sleep.

Only then, he will kiss you on the forehead and bring you into his arms, giving you a sense of security you won't be able to find anywhere else in the whole universe.

#blue.writes: honkai star rail #blue.writes: dan heng #blue.writes: smut #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng smut #honkai star rail smut #minors dni #not suitable for minors

[hotwings0203]

The idea of being in an argument w your yandere or being upset while in a car w them is SO hot

Like I’m thinking of some psycho like dabi or a conceited narcissist like bakugo in this situation, maybe it’s not even a yandere but def a crazy possessive dude who has serious issues. I guess you could do a guy like hawks, whose great in public and seriously pent up at home. Maybe even shigaraki, a guy whose not necessarily strong and intimidating from the outside, but whose eerie presence and potential keeps you in line

Tw:noncon, kidnapping, dubcon

Imagine he takes you out after a long time of being cooped up at home, being preoccupied physically yet mentally in a catatonic state as they show you the only use you have is underneath them. They finally agree to take you out to a friends’ party at a bar once your tears never seem to stop after a couple of days.

They look at you curled up on the bed like a scorned cat, your legs tucked up in a fetal position as you glare at them from underneath the tiny open pocket in the blanket you seek refuge in. The tears in your eyes shine in the dim candlelight of the dark room, akin to a cat’s eyes flashing as it remains crouched from behind the shadows.

“Can you stop being such a fucking brat and just come shower with me already?” He drones, dragging a hand down his face and sighing in exasperation as you glower and flip the other way, effectively cutting the conversation off. For a couple days now you’ve been putting up more resistance than usual, and while he finds it cute that you think you can evade him for that long, it’s annoying fighting tooth and nail to force you to be close to him, much to your chagrin.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as his scowl lines grow deeper. He’s annoyed, but he knows he’s being unfair. He’s been selfish, moving too fast for you even though he has so many more plans to keep you here forever than you know to the point where he’s realized you might seriously start to consider putting distance between you two.

Hah. As if he’d ever let you try that shit.

And so, one promise of coaxing you out of your “impenetrable fortress” of bed material leads to him agreeing to finally let you see your friends again.

Anything works if it means you’ll semi-willingly and very begrudgingly approach him.

He misses your smile, your laughter, the bright light you provide in his eternal void that caves in so deep inside of him that it swallows him inside out.

You look beautiful, he can’t lie, and he watches you sway to the music in your red dress. Truth be told, he’s glad you whined when he said no to it originally. It shows too much skin, yeah, but fuck he’d be damned if he didn’t admit the way your arms extend above your head so elegantly makes his heart ache.

Your hips rocking side to side in sync with the crooning tunes playing above makes his dick harder than it’s been since the last time he had you pinned beneath him, and he wants nothing more than to drag you by your cascading hair and fuck you up against the bathroom stalls like the teasing slut you are.

But his mood rapidly plummets as he notices a group of friends he vaguely recognizes slink up next to you, joining your movements and linking hands with you.

Hands that flutter around your curves, hands that aren’t his traveling up and down your sides, against the silk you’re in and dangerously close to places he’s meticulously claimed as his own.

But if that wasn’t enough by itself, when his eyes widen and he starts making his way around the bar counter to glare at you and to get the message of distance across, you…

You roll your eyes and turn away from him.

You fucking bitch.

Who do you think you are?

Enough is enough.

Without any more provocation, your enraged captor/lover storms through the crowd, shoving bodies aside and uncaring about knocking shoulders with people who cry out indignantly at his uncouth mannerisms.

From the corner of your eye you watch as a familiar head stalks it’s way to you, and by the time you’ve turned and witnessed the scene he’s making as he comes towards you, you’re scrambling backwards and tripping over your own dress.

But it’s too late, too little to acknowledge his presence as he pushes up against you and snarls in your face, “Playtime’s over slut. Did you enjoy all the attention? Shit, if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so.”

You whimper in fear and desperately look around the party for anyone to come and intervene, but suddenly the music seems to be louder and the eyes that were previously on you and your little spat have turned to inspect the floor and around the room.

No one’s crazy enough to save you from what’s coming.

“Please! It hurts, let go! ___, stop fucking pulling me!” You yell through tears as your nails dig into his wrist.

He pays you no mind, pulling you through the mostly empty lot as a color red darker than your dress clouds his eyes, the image of you dancing like a whore while ignoring him playing in his mind on repeat.

His grip tightens marginally but you squeal all the less.

“What the fucks your problem? What, you can’t stand me having fun for more than 5 minutes without butting your crooked nose into it-“

This is the most you’ve spoken in over weeks, but he can’t find it in him to feel grateful as you falter when he yanks open the car door and practically throws you in the passenger seat.

Before you can even straighten yourself upright in the seat, he’s already rounded the car and locked the doors. You open your mouth to fire off another round of insults when he starts talking in a low, barely controlled voice.

“When we go home, your phone, laptop, keys, and any electronic you have is out the fucking window. You wanna act like the child? You wanna be a brat who can’t stay in her lane and be grateful? I’ll show you what happens when you act like one.”

Your agape mouth curls back in fear as he turns to face you, his enraged leer taking up the entirety of his face, his eyes gleaming with malice more than usual. His knuckles on the steering wheel are bone-white as he turns sharply this way and that, jostling you in your seat.

“You-you can’t do that. You’re not my goddamn father-“

“The hell I am, I’m your fucking daddy for all you know. After the shit you pulled tonight? I’m gonna act like one too.”

Your lip trembles as he continues in a growl, the streets blurring and starting to go by faster as he works himself up with terrible promises.

“-bend you over on my knee, beat your ass black and blue like how you wanted right? This was all for attention? Well, you got my fucking attention you cock-hungry whore.”

Your heart drops because you know the difference between his empty threats and his real ones.

He never has empty promises.

“I’m gonna tie you up and gag you with your own panties, would you like that, huh slut? You wanna be treated like my bad little girl?”

You sob and turn to the window as he shoves one hand in between your legs, groping harshly at your thin-lace panties and pressing his thumb near where you clit is.

“Nah. Nah, don’t fight me off now baby, I’m just playing your game. Look at me when I’m talking to you, the same way you look at me when you’re taking my dick so fucking deep.”

Your efforts to squeeze your legs together are thwarted as his massive hand pinches the meat of your thighs, forcing you to open up.

Your chest heaves as you gaze blankly out the window, your heart suddenly jumping when you realize he’s going 120 in a 50 lane.

“W-wait, please, slow down you’re going too fast.”

He booms with laughter and starts jerking the car left and right, doing nothing but increasing the speed 10 more miles up.

“Why, does this scare you? Are you scared, little girl?” His lip curls back into a deadly grin as he takes his eyes off the (thankfully) mostly empty highway and stares at you, your knees tucked away from him into the side of the car door. Your dress is askew and teasing a glimpse of your inner thighs due to his perverse ministrations before, your mascara running down your face.

You look like you got a good fucking, and he can’t help but to adjust his straining boner in his pants as he blatantly leers at you, his lip in between his teeth as he takes you in.

You’re terrified at his lack of attention on the road at the speed he’s going, so scared that your throat chokes up and all you can do is gape and point a trembling hand at the road.

“The! R-road, look!” You cough out and curl your hand against the armrest, your fingers tightening in preparation for the worst.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought this on yourself. This is what you get for ignoring me and breaking my trust. I have half a mind to pimp you out since I’m such a good boyfriend and all you want is attention.” His voice is airy and light but trembling with rage still. Just to turn things up a notch and to really teach you a lesson, he turns the radio on all the way to full and starts suddenly cutting across four lanes of empty road, then speeding back to his previous lane, and then again.

“Fucking stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please slow down!” You shriek, closing your eyes and bracing your body for impact.

But miraculously, he slows down and ceases the lane-swerving.

Your blood pounds in your ears and you grasp the sides of your dizzy head as you heave fast breaths. Your whole body is shaking, and you feel like you’re gonna puke as it takes a few minutes to calm down and stop an impending panic attack.

By the time you lift your head up from your knees and gotten a hold of your surroundings, you realize with a pang of shock that he’s already parked in some secluded woods area, and plopped you in the backseat.

“Finally, you said something. ‘Was wondering how long we’d live from the way you were forcing me to drive.”

You glance up and flinch at the way he looks.

The car is turned off, the moonlight behind him illuminating his silhouette and eerily only letting the whites of his eyes shine bright with mocking anticipation.

It’s befitting for him, he thinks, that the area he picked is dark and littered with giant trees that look overhead. The only light in this void that is so reminiscent of himself is one that he allows to come through, light that he lets you see, and that he takes as well.

You’ll shine as bright as he allows so.

“And now, for your lesson, little slut.”

*******

IM GONNA DO A PART TWO SOON SINCE I LIKED THIS ONE HEHEHEH

#mha #bnha #dabi #tw: noncon #yandere hawks #bnha yandere #shigaraki #yandere #bnha dabi #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #mha dabi #bakugo mha #dabi scenarios #yandere dabi x reader #dabi x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagine #bnha smut #bnha oneshots #yandere mha #yandere oneshot #tw: yandere #tw:dubcon #tw: kidnapping

[dual1pa]

on the brink of death

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n watches steve shower (nothing sexual happens)

steve harrington x reader (using she/her pronouns)

send requests pls

the group felt like they were hit by a truck... if the truck was a bunch of psycho bat creatures and a dude named Vecna was plotting to destroy the town of Hawkins, Indiana.

the car ride home was silent. steve was furious at her, his girlfriend, amongst his friends to put themselves in danger to save him, when he told them repeatedly that he was going to be okay.

it was still dark out, her watch read 10:38PM. Luckily, no one in the car should get in trouble since they aren't out past their curfew. She stared out the window, staring at the trees and other landscapes. As the minutes went by, the car had less people in it as they were all "safe" in their homes.

"Do you want to stay with me, tonight? Parents aren't home," Steve said softly.

She looked over at him and nodded.

He pulled slowly up his driveway and put the car in park. It was dark out now that the lights were out. She heard Steve get out of the car, she quickly followed him up to the front door, closing and locking it behind her. She watched as he walked up the stairs and took off the vest that Eddie gave him so he wasn't half-naked in the upside down. He chucked it in his laundry bag and went into the bathroom to turn the shower on. He stripped off the rest of his dirty closed and got in the shower. She could tell he was pissed off since he didn't ask if she wanted to join him.

She closed the toilet seat and sat down on top of it. Yes, she was also as dirty as he was, she could wait. She rested her chin on her knee and watched through the fogged-up glass as her boyfriend washed the dirt and grime off his body. She heard the water turn off as he looked at her and rid his body of water.

"are we going to talk about it?" she asked.

"Talk about what?"

"What you do mean 'talk about what?' what happened tonight."

"Look, I don't want to, okay? It was pretty fucking stressful, for me especially. So, just go shower and let's go to sleep."

"What? You don't think I was stressed? Watching the boy i love dive deep into the dark water of Lover's Lake? Not knowing if he was going to come back up? THEN watching you get sucked back down? You have no idea how worried I was for you, Steve Harrington. You can't do this to me."

"I TOLD YOU to stay on the boat... whatever you see or hear. I would have been fine."

"Clearly not, had to beat the fuck out of some demoboats in order for them to stop eating your insides," she screamed, tears coming out of her eyes as she had to say those words.

He hung his head, reminding himself of the large scar on his side.

She huffed, walking over to his side of the bed, and sat down next to him.

"I know you wanted to be the hero, Steve, but it's just not possible, not in this situation. You can't handle this on your own and we were there to help you."

"No, I don't want you there."

"Why not?"

"BECAUSE," raised his voice, causing her to jump, then he instantly regretted it, "Because, I've never met a girl quite like you before. You're very special to me and I really don't want to lose that."

"Hey, listen, you're scared, i'm scared, we're all fucking scared. However, it's up to us to fight Vecna, to fight the demobats, you can't do it alone Steve, hate to break it to you, but that's the way it is. I know you want to protect me and want what's best for me, but I care about you too steve."

The room was silent for a few moments, she knew that Steve knew she was right.

As she was getting up to get a shower when he stopped her. He got up with her and kissed her passionately. Both hands were pressed to her face as her hands rest on his chest. His forehead rested on her.

"Just... don't leave me, okay? I want to have a life without you outside this stupid town."

"Never."

#steve harrington #joe keery #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #my writing #my writings #stranger things #st4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things characters #stranger things imagine

[shallowstories]

Based on the intro cut script scene from 13x23:

“That mouth is a lot less dangerous braggin than gettin’ closer to ya where it could maul you to death.”

///

Dean is still heaving when they finally corner the werewolf.

He knew that Jack n’ Cas had been comin’ up strong behind her, but adrenaline still courses like a shock of electricity through his veins. Makes him jittery. Makes him tighten the grip on his blade.

Her claws had snapped out at the last second, mere inches from where they would’ve dug into the soft meat of his chest. He’d barely gotten his silver knife out in time—just as she’d crowed that she wanted to feast on his heart.

“Your pack,” Cas says, cold and clipped, “Where are they?”

She gulps, then seems to think better of it. She turns her head and spits, a wad of dirty-lookin spit landing rudely on Cas’s cheekbone. “Already blew town, handsome.”

Cas doesn’t even move to wipe it off. He just continues to stare her down, his blade guarded and ready to plunge.

She giggles, gleeful.

“They’re probs’ chowing down on another daycare center in Saskatchewan as we speak. I hear baby bones make good dental floss.”

Dean pushes his blade forward, letting her feel the tip of it on her neck. She turns and hacks a spit wad into his face next.

Like lightning, Cas reaches out and grabs hold of the hair at the nape of her neck, peeling her off Dean’s body. (She’d been pinning him by the hips against the rough texture of the brick alleyway. The ease-up on the pressure is a huge relief.)

///

After they have the information they need and the location of her psycho nest, Cas rams his angel blade efficiently between the vertebrae at her upper spine and gives a short, brutal twist.

She doesn’t even make a sound as she thuds heavily to the ground. As she falls, Dean gets a clearer eyeline on Jack, who looks down neutrally before turning worried eyes up to him.

(Dean’s just a bit winded, really. He had it all under control. He’s a fuckin’ pro. The best there is.)

He finds himself babbling stupidly to cover his nerves. “And that’s how playing’ from a weak position can getcha’ the upper hand.” He makes sure to throw the kid a winning smile. “Could be playin’ drunk or walk-in’ with a limp. Either way, monsters like that? Tend to be uppity.”

Jack nods, and Dean swivels his gaze to Cas, who finally defrosts.

“Are you all right?”

Fuck, his voice is a little soft.

Dean gives what he hopes is a nonchalant, one-shoulder shrug. “M’good.”

Actually, he thinks his fuckin’ lips are bruised. And there’s the start of a brick rash on his whole backside.

She’d come on so aggressively that Dean had barely had time to parry her makeout sesh with a lil’ improvised seduction.

Cas’s hand rests on his shoulder, and he gently tugs him away from the brick. He’s probably gonna do a grace diagnostic, but Dean ducks away, feeling weirdly out of sorts.

Maybe it wasn’t as slutty as it felt?

He looks over at Jack, who’s still staring, wide-eyed from Dean and down to the dead werewolf girl.

Yep.

Jack’s got a weird look on his face. So, he figures it probably was.

///

Turns out that the nest is in town, and since these wolves‘ve already killed six hunters, they regroup at the hotel to loop Sam in.

Dean’s glad for it.

While Cas fills Sam in, Dean takes a scaldingly hot, forty-minute shower.

///

Jack is uncharacteristically quiet after they wolf down some Arby’s.

Ain’t a good sign, that’s for sure. Up till now, he’s been eagerly jumping in to discuss every stupidly irreverent detail.

Finally, a little after eight, Jack’s damn breaks: “What was your strategy when it came to fooling her? I’m worried that I couldn’t ever touch anyone like that.”

Just as Dean’s about to open his mouth to brag about his superior (and impressively distracting) makeout skills, Cas throws out a flippant, uninterested, “Don’t worry. It’s not particularly difficult to accomplish.”

And maybe it’s his weird mood, but Dean bristles, feeling oddly slighted.

“Hey, it’s not easy, either.”

Cas stares at him for a moment, and Dean can’t for the life of him get a read. Cas looks a little apologetic. Maybe Dean’s telegraphing his defensiveness in the stupidest way.

Cas seems to try to redirect, “In this case, it was brilliant improvisation on Dean’s part—”

Dean can’t help it. (“Brilliant?”) He preens.

“—but getting in such close range of an enemy combatant is best left to a more experienced fighter.”

Jack still looks unsure. “Oh.”

Dean sits up as straight as he can, papering over the cracks in his armor with poise and pride. “Well, yeah. Getting up close like that? Eyes on the mouth, eyes on the claws, am so right? If you can, get ‘em talking.”

Jack nods hesitantly.

“That mouth is a lot less dangerous braggin than gettin’ closer to ya where it could maul you to death.”

Something clicks in Jack’s eyes. “That’s why you told her she was skilled?”

Dean replays the moment in his head. (“That…you’re good at that.”)

He checks Cas’s reaction.

“Uh, yeah, kid. Two ways to go about it. Banter with em,’ you know? Somethin’ aggro or sexy, to get ‘em volleying back-and-forth. Or if ya can’t do that, stroke that ego.”

Jack frowns in confusion, and Dean tries again.

“You saw how she started running her trap, right? That little bit of talkin’ gave me an opening.”

Jack smiles, getting it. “Right. And her mouth was too busy to maul you. You could keep your eyes on the claws.”

This isn’t going as badly as Dean thought it might.

“Yeah.”

“So, will I need to learn kissing, just in case?”

Spoke too soon.

///

#jack #spn 13x23 #jack & dean & cas #dean/cas #dean/cas + kissing

[pettingabumblebee]

Not a Laughing Matter, Dammit!

I have been determinedly avoiding Batman-Who-Laughs -stories but this weekend I finally got tired of my popular culture gap.

So I gathered my best munchies and started with Scott Snyder’s 6-issue miniseries. My happy hour went as well as anyone can guess.

I kept turning the pages and all the time a part of my brain expected that leather-clad boogeyman to utter some version of his beloved catchphrase:

“This city iss guilty! The crime iss life! The ssentence iss death!”

What I mean... they both have their funny shades and they like their creepy hovering. And yes, it is quite awkward to read a comic book with a serious streak a mile wide when your mind is filled with one-liners and death jokes you memorized as a kid:

#the showers have been dangerous since Psycho #batman #bruce wayne #batman who laughs #joker #judge dredd #judge death #dark judges #brian bolland #alan grant #john wagner #t. b. grover #darick robertson #scott snyder #jock #riccardo federici #dc #dc comics #comics #comic books #another dead martha

[giorno-plays-piano]

Would You Have It Any Other Way?

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x reader

Warnings: yandere, post noncon, kinda Stockholm Syndrome, threats, Shigaraki and reader taking a bath together.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: "You will never ever whore yourself to any pretty hero, you hear me?" His wicked whisper makes shivers run down your spine, and you struggle to look him in the eyes. "I'm the best you gonna get, so get over the way I look."

P.S. This is kinda a sequel to this story, but you don't have to read it to understand the plot.

______

Shigaraki hates taking a bath. A nihilist to the core, he sees no need in any comfort, and a quick cold shower to wash away the dirt and blood is his absolute maximum. You can't even tell how much time and efforts you spent to get this psychopatic manchild into a bathtub, but, finally, he's laying there quietly as you sit behind him and rub shampoo into his wild hair.

He stares mindlessly at the ceiling, and you think that even someone like him can appreciate the pleasure of being in someone's care. You're very gentle, pouring warm water on his head and shoulders, massaging his scalp as you run your fingers through his messy hair, doing your best to untangle them carefully because Shigaraki literally looks like a wild dog.

Letting out a loud sigh, he tilts his head back and stares at you when you're already washing away the shampoo, satisfied with your work.

"How about you blow me off after this?" he asks you nonchalantly, and you grimace, looming over him.

"After all I've been doing for you? Don't you think it's you who should be blowing me off, huh?" Your irritation is obvious, but Shigaraki doesn't seem to mind as he snickers, and you see his bared teeth.

"Alright."

Huffing and puffing, you take a small jar from a shelf and come back to him, opening it to smear a fruit smelling balm on his cracked lips. You swear one day, when he'll be driven completely crazy, he might eat them till there's no flesh left.

It doesn't take Shigaraki too much time to sneer and look at you with suspicion, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to make you look human," you roll your eyes while spreading the balm onto his skin, "I don't want to get cut with these lips of yours."

"Oh? Since when do you care how I look?"

You feel something dangerous in his voice, realizing you are on shaky ground. What the hell? What triggered this psycho again? You can't believe it has something to do with his appearance. Shigaraki can't care less about his body as long as it functions and moves him from one place to the other.

"Do you feel ashamed of how ugly your boyfriend is? You didn't seem to mind it yesterday night."

Now you hear Tomura is fucking angry, and it's never, never good for you. You have no idea what he's gonna do, but you don't wanna find out.

You grunt, "If I cared about having a pretty boyfriend, I'd date someone like Hawks."

"How the fuck do I know who you dated while you were out there with the heroes?"

He is holding to the edges of the bath, watching that not all his fingers touch them, but his gaze is directed at you, and it's so full of hatred it physically hurts. Getting up, he grabs you by the back of your neck roughly, bringing your face closer, and you gasp, wincing from the strength of his grip.

When his lips touch yours, it's something between a kiss and a bite: it's painful and forceful, but you don't try to fight him, letting him take out his frustration on you because it's better to submit to him now rather when Shigaraki's going feral. You lick his tongue as he grasps your hair in his hand painfully, the balm on his cracked lips getting smeared onto yours, too. Kissing him until he finally lets you go, completely out of breath, you inhale loudly, blood rushing to your head and making you feel dizzy.

"You will never ever whore yourself to any pretty hero, you hear me?" His wicked whisper makes shivers run down your spine, and you struggle to look him in the eyes. "I'm the best you gonna get, so get over the way I look."

You don't need to be reminded you're literally chained to him, unable to even leave the premises unless Tomura's going with you. In fact, you're very lucky he let you live the night when you were caught, keeping you at his side as his "girlfriend". Moreover, others took you back without a single word as if you had never left them for heroes, and a part of you still felt guilty for betraying them. If you left heroes for villains and then came back, Endeavor would burn you to ashes himself, regardless of your excuses.

It's not that bad here, you think when you look at Shigaraki, his hand still grabbing your hair. If you don't make him angry, it's not that bad.

Then you think you know why he's getting all riled up because of some stupid balm: the thought of you not wanting to be at his side for whatever reason drives him mad. The thought of being rejected by someone who absolutely has to be with him is a thing that will always make him lose his mind.

"I put a balm on your lips because I like to kiss," you grunt, closing your eyes with a sigh, "and it's more pleasant to kiss you if your lips are soft."

There's an awkward silence as you wait for him to say anything, but Shigaraki doesn't speak, just letting go of your hair so you can finally take a more comfortable position as you sit back, taking a breath. You take it he is no longer mad at you, but you're not sure, so you sit quietly while he lowers himself in the bath, and his colourless locks are flowing underwater.

He stares at you again. It's uncomfortable, and you look somewhere else just not to return his gaze. Funny, you think as you lick your lips, a fruity taste on the tip of your tongue, that he still didn't wipe off the balm.

"Get in here," he finally says as he stretches lazily, catching your arm, but not hard this time, just taking your hand in his.

"What, in the tub?"

"Yes."

You blink, staring at it and wondering if you two are going to fit.

"I'll drag you here in your clothes right now," Tomura warns you - the next second you're starting to undress, quickly folding your clothes and leaving them on the chair where you just sat.

Maybe he really calmed down, you hope as you stand in front of him, naked, and Shigaraki snickers when you carefully get in, nearly falling on him. Soon you lay on top of his body, your chest pressed against his as you feel every single scar and scratch on his body, his leg in between your thighs, one of his hands in your hair. Watching your face intently and seeing no revultion, Shigaraki seems to come to his senses, realizing you really don't care how he looks.

You wonder why he's still worried about whether you want him or not. It's not like you have options, is it?

Lowering your head to his shoulder, you breathe in, your nose tickling his bruised neck as you try to relax, warm water easing your tense muscles. You don't feel disgusted even the slightest bit.

In truth, Shigaraki's body is the least of your worries.

#yandere #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki x reader #bnha shigaraki #boku no hero academia

[hotdamnhunnam]

Will Miller / 🌙🥺🧸

Thank you 🖤💖

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

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

Poke the Bear

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, angsty love + cuddly fluff + smutty stuff up on a mountaintop Word Count: ~1.6k Emoji Prompt: 🌙🥺🧸 (key words are in bold)

“Hey there.”

Will glances up as you approach him where he’s leaning back against bags full of cash here on the mountainside, beneath the black sky stretching out so wide. He’s glad to see you just as ever but he steels himself to act as if he doesn’t really care. He answers playfully though he’s too pure to be a player. Too full of feelings that he can’t place anywhere. “Thought you’d know better than to come and poke the bear.”

Crack a slight smile while you grit your teeth against the bitter cold of the night air. Sit down beside him and as ever in his presence you can’t help but fucking stare. The low light of a crescent moon threads silver through the soft crop of his hair. The stars shine twice as bright when mirrored in those big puppy-dog eyes of crystal blue. “I didn’t poke you,” you point out but then poke your forefinger into his gloved hand so now it’s true. That hand that could as soon caress you as choke you. Will is just so dangerously hot yet also such a fluffy precious little baby and it really isn’t fair. “But hey, I gotta say you do look like a military teddy bear.”

He blinks, unsure just what to think. You’re close enough that he can breathe you and he’s grateful that the dim of night can hide the way his cheeks are flushing pink. You smell like home even though you live worlds apart—even when all you have are days spent fighting wars and running missions that are all doomed from the start—even when you’re part of the team toward whom he’s meant to hold just brotherly love in his iron heart. The scent of you isn’t supposed to be a comfort and a kink. The captain holds himself afloat above shit that he can’t emote but around you he fucking sinks.

You can’t begin to process all his thoughts. But you can tell he’s fighting something in his soul. Will is the sum of all the wars he’s fought, and so much more that makes him fucking whole.

Speaking again since there’s apparently nothing he wants to say, you nod over toward the spot several yards away, where the three other guys are sleeping off the day. “I guess you got tired of sleeping in a huddle?”

He replies as if that’d really been the problem when it hadn’t been at all. “Shit got a little weird for me when Frankie tried to cuddle.”

And at that you softly laugh, which is a problem ‘cause the softness of the sound hardens his shaft. Through his thick pants you haven’t noticed yet. “So over Catfish you’d prefer to cuddle with your gun instead?”

He bobs his head. “Yeah, pretty much.”

And then—did you just inch a little closer to the captain? When the fucking hell did that happen? You’re close enough that he could just reach out and touch…

That is when you notice the stirring in his crotch. It’s almost hidden under all his clothes and gear but it’s so clear to you, and for some reason he’s not shifting gear to hide it from your view… your pussy clenches deep inside and eyes go wide as you just watch…

Your eyes then lift to meet the blue of his. In just one look there is such lust—yet also loyalty and trust—a lifetime’s worth and it’s the closest that you’ve ever come to knowing what love is.

You’re both so new to this.

What happens if we do this?

Will the world end if I just give you a kiss?

Can we save it if it does—can we go back to what this is? To what it was…?

There are no answers to the questions left unspoken in the air. It’s so damn cold, upon the broken edges of this mountain where his heart has made its stronghold. But you meet him there. You’ve come to poke the bear. And where your lips meet, there is heat, down to the core where your hearts beat and so much more that if the world ends you don’t even fucking care.

***************

We shouldn’t.

Even if I tried to stop I couldn’t.

Don’t.

I won’t.

I always knew you wouldn’t.

You always know everything. You just never show anything.

But now he’s showing more than he can even stand, and now it’s growing as you kiss him slow and deep, holding him like he’s yours to keep, and cup his scruffy cheek in your soft loving hand. He could just weep. With you his tears would finally have a place to land.

Your hands are bare—one of them lifts to comb your fingers through his gorgeous head of hair—just when the kiss began you’d taken off your heavy-duty gloves, so you can feel him as you shower him with heavy-duty love.

Will wants to do the same yet on some level he’s too scared to think of what his hands could do. That he might ruin you. He’d never mean to do you any harm, but if he just so much as holds you part of him worries you’d crumble into dust in these life-crushing arms.

A thousand times over, he’s suffered through the price of being such a fucking warrior. And you’re a warrior in your own right of course. But in some ways that makes it worse. Compared to you he’s not as well-equipped to handle—as far as he can tell—the scars of all these wars, and Will just doesn’t want his weaknesses and failures to poke holes into the fortress of your strength and become yours.

Most nights he feels he’s more fucked up than the whole force.

You’re here to show him that’s not true. As your right hand slides down his torso suddenly it dawns on him what you’re about to do. Will can’t have you do that for him if he’s not pleasuring you too. He’s pressuring himself now as he fumbles to remove his gloves though he’s not quite prepared to. Fucking scared to. Dying, trying, failing to believe that it’s okay for once to give in to how bad he fucking wants you.

But then your hands are on his gloves, as you keep kissing him so soft. Every kiss urging him in silence not to take them off. He’ll follow any order from that lovely mouth on you.

Murmurs against your lips, obeying yet still feeling like he needs to fucking touch you as your fingers work the belt strapped at his hips. “But I want to…”

Your left hand is still pressed against his cheek, cradling him till he feels strength in being weak. “I know. It’s okay, though. I got you.”

You know everything. And you show everything, too. Love this man more than anything, and just as bright as the stars above you, it’s so clear to you how much he loves you.

There’s no need to rush him. You just need to touch him. Can tell that he has fears and doubts, and you hope that you’ll have a whole lifetime to sort that shit out. As your hand finally reaches the meat in his crotch you pull back from the heat of his mouth, for a moment to watch him.

The face that he makes… it’s so pretty it aches—beauty far beneath his flawless surface—and knowing that he doesn’t think he deserves this, your heart fucking breaks.

Kiss the ridge of his jaw, kisses telling him he’s the most perfect thing you ever saw. Finally having the iron-hard pillar of Will Fucking Miller in your loving hand makes this love feel so real and so raw.

He’s so big it’s insane and your fist can’t encompass the whole massive girth. But you pump him for all that he’s worth, pulling slowly yet powerfully all the way down from the weeping wet tip to the soft patch of curls at the base back and forth.

It’s just your fucking hand, and already he’s never felt anything like this in all of his life and is sure that his heart will forever be yours to command. This is not what he’d planned. He’s the captain—he had tasked himself with ensuring that this never happened…

But so it has now, and he has to surrender somehow. And he does. He surrenders because… he stops seeking the reason as you kiss him harder and fist his dick faster till his iron head feels the buzz.

Has one hand firmly framing your waist and the other hand tangling up in your hair—both still wearing those gloves—that you’d told him to wear, until he felt prepared, to be bare—and it’s perfect this way because even through thousands of layers you’d still feel the love.

And the lust as it fucking erupts in your palm. His full sack tightly clenches then drenches your hand in his thick creamy cum. You moan into his lips, feeling his essence sticky and warm on your fingertips, milking out every last drop in your worshipful grip, so damn desperate to taste all of it as it splatters and drips.

Surely someday you will. But for now you stay still. Catch your breath. You’re both blissed out to death. Love gives life as it kills.

Now the bear has been poked, and deliciously stroked. You’re both thoroughly soaked. And you can’t fucking wait till he takes off these gloves and pokes you with the true love of Will.

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

Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod @midnight-dreams-23

#charlie hunnam #will miller #will ironhead miller #william ironhead miller #triple frontier #charlie hunnam smut #will miller smut #triple frontier smut #charlie hunnam imagine #will miller imagine #triple frontier imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #will miller fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #will miller x reader #will miller x you #will ironhead miller x reader #will ironhead miller x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #emoji fics

[thebigbadbatswife]

Pushin’ Me Away

Summary - Y/N and Bruce Wayne have been dating for a year now, but recently he’s started pushing her away. Convinced he’s cheating on her, she goes to Wayne Manor to confront him, but ends up discovering more than she bargained for.

Warning(s) - Please only read if you are 18+, angst, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, fingering, batsuit kink, fluffy ending

Word Count - 2.7k

You and Bruce had been going out for the past year and it had been great. He was sweet and kind and caring. Nothing like the tabloids that had led you to believe. Constantly surprising you with flowers and gifts, taking you out on dates and the sex. Oh god the sex. It was absolutely phenomenal. Until recently that was.

In the past couple of months he only seemed interested in shoving you away. He was always busy. Late nights at the office, he claimed, but the last couple of times you hadn’t been able to reach his cell and called the office, you found out that he wasn’t actually there. Every question was deflected, he was no longer taking you out or surprising you and the sex had completely stopped. Every time you had tried to initiate it, he pulled away, said he was tired and that he needed to be up early.

At first all of it had confused you. Had you done something to cause him to push you away? And if so, why wouldn’t he just talk to you about it? After a lot of thinking, you eventually came to a conclusion. It wasn’t you that had done anything wrong, it was Bruce. He had to be cheating on you. It was the only thing that made sense. Not that you were surprised. You were so mundane compared to the other women he dated, it was only a matter of time before he got bored. It turned out he was exactly like the tabloids had described him. And it broke your heart.

You felt so stupid. You had actually fallen for him and thought you two could have a future. Everyone around you that had warned you about him had been right. He didn’t give two fucks about you and probably never did.

You had spent the entire night crying after your realisation. Curled up on the sofa under a blanket, eating a tub of ice cream and watching bad comedy films. As the credit started to roll on the third movie and you hit the bottom of your second tub you decided that you weren’t going to sit around and feel sorry for yourself. You were going to confront the bastard before walking out of his life for good.

Sure it was nearly three in the morning, but you didn’t care anymore. He thought he could cheat on you and get away with it? He had another thing coming! You set the empty tub aside and got up from the sofa. You headed toward your bedroom, got dressed and left your apartment.

As you pulled up to the Manor, you saw a couple of lights on through the windows. At least you knew he was home. You got out of your car and walked up the front steps. You were about to hit the doorbell when you noticed the door slightly ajar. You gently pushed it open and entered the Manor. You walked around the place to find it completely empty. No sign of Bruce or his butler, Alfred. Maybe this had been a mistake.

You were about to leave when you noticed the time on the broken grandfather clock in the hall had changed. Curious you walked over to it. Every time you had come to the Manor, the clock had always been stuck on the same time, midnight. Now it read 10:47pm. Upon further examination, you discovered a gap between the clock and the wall. You could feel a cold breeze coming from the gap. You went to move the clock when you got the feeling that you shouldn’t be there and that you should leave. If you had been anyone else, maybe you would have. Instead you shook the feeling away and continued to move the clock.

The clock moved surprisingly easily and you were now standing in front of a dark staircase that led down. The feeling from a few minutes ago came back even stronger, but you continued to ignore it as you took a deep breath and started your way down.

A million different thoughts ran through your head as you carefully followed the staircase down into the Earth. Was Bruce a serial killer? The documentaries you had watched on killers came to mind and it was almost always the good looking, charismatic ones. Or maybe this was one of those creepy sex dungeons that rich people supposedly kept. You’d find out soon enough

It wasn’t long before you started to hear voices. It was Alfred and Bruce and they were discussing… You?

  “Master Bruce, I really think you should tell her. If you keep this up I fear you might lose her.” Alfred said as he set the tray he was carrying onto the desk. On the tray was a cup of piping hot tea and a plate of cookies.

“If it keeps her safe, is that really such a bad thing?” he asked as he took one of the cookies.

“I just think you’ll regret it sir.”

“What makes you say that Alfred?” Alfred took a deep breath.

“I’ve just never seen anyone make you happy quite like she does.”

Not that he would say it out loud, but Bruce knew Alfred was right about that. It was no secret that he had been with his fair share of women, but none of them had made him feel the way he did with you. With you he didn’t need fake smiles and to pretend he was someone else. Nor did he need his flashy cars and expensive jewels. He could just be himself around you… or as much as possible without actually revealing the mask he wore most nights.

When your relationship had started to get serious, he thought of telling you. He got the feeling that he could tell you anything and you would accept him. At the same time though, he thought of the enemies he had made and if any one of them found out about you, the untold danger it would put you in. So he didn’t. He kept silent and hoped that you wouldn’t leave. But in recent months crime rates in Gotham had skyrocketed and his promise to the city, to his parents, had meant he had neglected your relationship quite a bit.

He wanted to take you out on dates and shower you in attention, but with his long nights, no sleep and long days at Wayne ENT, he didn’t have the energy. And he wanted to have sex with you. Why wouldn’t he? You were gorgeous and it was mind blowing, but he couldn’t risk you seeing the bruises across his body. If you saw them then he would have to come clean about his nightly activities and he couldn’t put you in danger like that. He wouldn’t put you in danger like that.

At the same time, he also knew there was only so much you could take. If things kept going the way they were, you were going to leave. He knew Alfred was right about that. Bruce was about to reply to him when he noticed his butler staring at something. He followed his gaze and felt himself froze when he saw what, or rather who, had caught Alfred’s attention. It was you. You had found the cave.

Before he had a chance to say anything, you had already taken off back up the stairs. One look at his butler told him everything he needed to know. Alfred had left the cave’s entrance open, on purpose. Bruce took off after you, but thanks to the injuries he had sustained that night he was slower than he would have been. By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear your car already leaving the Manor’s grounds.

He stormed back down into the cave, grabbed his cowl off the desk and headed for the batmobile. He had no idea what he was going to say to you, only that he needed to catch up to you.

Okay so Bruce wasn’t cheating on you. That was a relief. At the same time though, what he was actually doing was somehow so much worse. Being cheated on, you at least knew how to deal with that. Him being Batman? You had no idea what to do with that information. It was times like this you really wished Bruce came with a manual.

You opened the door to your apartment and as you locked it, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something move. Of course he had followed you, why wouldn’t he? But you didn’t want to see him, not right now. You needed to digest what you had seen, to decide what you wanted now that you knew his secret. You went to unlock the door and leave when a gloved hand on your arm stopped you.

You immediately escaped his grasp and backed away from him. He was still in his batsuit and he held his cowl in his other hand. He went to walk toward you, but when you backed away further he stopped. Neither of you knew what to say so you stood there in silence, just staring at each other. Eventually the words came to you.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I wanted to, but how could I put you in danger like that?” You scoffed.

“Danger? Did you ever stop to think that dating Gotham’s wealthiest man has already put me in danger?!” It was the truth. Ever since your relationship had become public, the amount of death threats from jealous women, and men, had been ridiculous. And with the amount of psychos out in the world anyone of them could act on their threats. The silence that came from Bruce told you that he knew you were right.

You two stood there in silence again. As much as you wanted to stay angry at him, you couldn’t. You actually loved the thought that he had been trying to protect you. It was more than anyone else had ever done for you in your life. Sighing, you started to walk over to him. You stopped once you were right before him.

Bruce watched you warily as your fingers gently traced the symbol on his chest. Your fingers slowly moved away from the symbol and to his face. They ghosted over his black eye and moved down to his split lip. He looked like an absolute mess, but he was your mess.

You stepped back from him. There was something you wanted to see.

“I want to see you with your cowl on.” He looked at you for a moment before putting it on. Despite knowing he would never hurt you, you couldn’t help, but feel a little bit of the fear that the criminals he faced must feel. The fear factor aside, you couldn’t deny that he looked rather sexy in that suit. Especially with how it clung to all the right places on him.

You stepped forward. With your hands on his chest, you leaned up and kissed him. He kissed you back fervently, his hands coming up to rest on your waist. After a minute, you broke the kiss and pulled away from his embrace, before headed for your bedroom. When you realised he wasn’t following, you stopped at the doorway and looked back over at him.

“Aren’t you coming, Batman?” you asked in your sultriest voice. After months of him lying to you, you figured he owed you this much.

By the time Bruce… Batman had reached your bedroom, you were already in the process of removing your clothes. Your shoes, coat and top were already on the floor and you were about to start on your jeans when you felt his strong muscular arms wrap around you. He started by kissing your jawline, slowly moving down to your neck. As he kissed you, his hands roamed your body. While one of his hands moved up to your breasts, the other one found its way in between your legs. You gasped and your hips bucked involuntary as he rubbed you through your jeans.

He chuckled darkly before moving his hand away. You whined at the loss, but you didn’t have to complain for long as he spun you around and pushed you onto the bed. You sat up on your elbows as you watched in him stalk over to you, not unlike a predator would do to its prey. He removed your bra and made quick work of your jeans and panties.

After discarding his gauntlets, Batman leaned over you and pinned your hands above your head. He groaned against your neck as his free hand slipped between your legs and he discovered how wet you already were.

“Already so wet for me? How long have you wanted this baby?” Before you had a chance to respond, he was pushing his fingers into you causing you to cry out. As he relentlessly pumped his fingers in and out of you, he left hickeys all over your body.

As you came down from your third orgasm, he let go of your hands and pulled away. Your body felt far too weak for you to sit up and see what he was up to now. Not that you needed to as you could clearly hear the sounds of him removing his suit.

He leant back over you and you discovered he had removed everything, but his mask. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck so you could pull him down for a kiss. As you two kissed, he slowly pushed into you and you gasped against his lips. Once he was fully inside, he stilled and began to gently kiss your neck as you adjusted to his size. After all it had been awhile.

“You’re so tight baby.” he groaned against your neck. Once you had adjusted, you wrapped your legs around his hips and moved your own hips, to let him know you were ready.

Batman slowly pulled out of you before slamming straight back into you. Your nails dug into his back and you moaned loudly as he set a hard and fast pace. Each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Your neighbours were going to kill you for being so loud, but you couldn’t care less. It had been so long since he had last fucked you, you’d be damned if you didn’t relish in it.

He moved one of his hands from its position by the side you of your head and brought it between your legs and started to play with your clitoris.

“Batman!” you cried as he pushed you over the edge. Feeling you tighten around him was more than enough to trigger his own orgasm so you came together.

He gently pulled out of you as you came down from your high. You felt him leave the bed, but before you could mourn his lost he was back with a damp cloth to clean you up with. Once he was done cleaning you up, he discarded the cloth and pulled you up to the pillows, where he pulled the duvet over the both of you and brought you in close to his body. You reached up and he lowered his head so you could remove his cowl.

Now that you were no longer distracted you could see the bruises that covered his torso. Clearly seeing the concern in your eyes, Bruce caressed your face and gently tilted your face upward toward him. “I’m fine.” he said before he leant in and kissed your cheek.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I’ve got you in my arms haven’t I?” You smiled and gave him another kiss. “I love you so much Y/N.”

You pulled away from him as you both realised what he had just said.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you asked.

“I love you, Y/N. I have done for a while now.” A big smile spread across your face as his words sunk in. He loved you. Bruce Wayne loved you!

“I love you too, Bruce.” Because of course you did. Why wouldn’t you? Despite the earlier lying and pushing you away, he was amazing in every way. After a couple more kisses, you both fell asleep wrapped up in each others’ arms.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x fem!reader #batman smut #bruce wayne smut #my writing

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

but speaking seriously for ten seconds because i’ve been thinking about this for years and i’ve reached a workable conclusion I think, if happiness isn’t a fish you can catch, learning to find your silver linings and taking some measure of positivity where you can 

rather teaching yourself positivity where you can

(this shower feels really nice, chocolate is delicious, purring cats, a soft bed, electricity, internet, nice art, mob psycho season 3 is almost here, thats such a pretty flower, i have a home, the stars are so nice, the undulation of the clouds is very interesting, the texture of bark-)

is a pretty workable way of living.

i sincerely believe that, as humans living in a society in late stage capitalism (bonus points if you live in a culture that stems from a religion with some form of end goal bliss), that’s part of what we’ve been sold - the idea of happiness as a goal you can reach and after that it’s done

you’re just happy forever and you don’t have to work for it anymore.

that mindset by itself requires the sacrifice of your little moments that by themselves can be your happiness. if you’re always looking ahead and working to something, the small things may go uncelebrated and uncherished. 

if you’ve been in the ‘major depression’ category since you’ve been 10 years old and simply can’t relate to what ‘happiness’ even feels like by the

appearance

of what it looks like on other people that you’re told might be or look happy, that’s a dangerous situation.

like beauty, happiness is in the eye of the beholder. that’s a standard that looks different person to person.

one of the blessings of being alive in this state of humanity is getting to decide for yourself what “happy” looks like for you.

Trees don’t have that. They can’t pet cats. That’s one thing that makes being a person pretty neat.

#count your little things. internalize the fuck out of them. watch in awe as they pile up into something that looks pretty good actually. #we got bits that can pet things and make them happy isn't that the coolest

[deceasedanddesist]

eyes off you ( hermione granger )

this is for kelly’s 3k writing challenge!! @anchoeritic ily kells<3

pairing: hermione granger x slytherin!reader ( half blood prince )

gender neutral! reader ( if there is a mistake or i accidentally used she/her pronouns let me know and ill fix it! )

warnings: small mentions of abuse at home, other than that just fluff and awkwardness.

notes: inspired by the song ‘eyes off you’ by prettymuch, the lyrics are bolded and italicized. y/n is the biggest simp. please ignore my grammar mistakes and my horrendous sentence structure. this also gives off major jily vibes, so do what you will with that information. I kinda went off with this I'm so sorry if it starts to get boring. images are from pinterest.

word count - 1.9k

hermione granger was a stubborn girl, that was one thing you knew for sure. when the two of you first met she had been adamant on hating your guts, excessive flirting and all. it was your persistence is what really got through to her; like starting to hang out in the library because you knew she would be there, and helping her pick up her books when some asshole seventh year—adorning the same infamous emerald green you did—tripped her up in the hall ( although not before threatening the bugger in her honour first ).

at the end of the day, the little acts of service were the things that made hermione swallow her pride and finally go on a damn date with you. at first, harry and ron were in utter shock that the girl was even considering going on a date with “the enemy” as they oh-so-subtly put it. but she just told them they were being overly dramatic, and that their input into who she decides to date was simply inadequate. so was it ever the surprise that one day when you finally worked up the courage to ask her, she actually said yes.

“are you serious?” you had expressed your complete disbelief of the words you just heard come out of the curly haired girls mouth.

“yes y/n, i am dead serious.” she had echoed back to you, looking thoroughly amused.

you were astonished, the girl that you quite frankly couldn’t take your eyes off of since fifth year actually agreed to go out with you. the gryffindor girl specifically that you had set your sights on, ignoring the warnings from your friends and backlash from your family, it had all paid off. becoming more defiant with your family last summer was no easy deed, but you knew the yelling and even the hitting was better than whatever they were scheming up for you this summer. lord voldemort was getting even closer to making sure he had a solid, fucked up, but loyal fanbase and you knew you would soon be a part of it if you didn’t get your shit together. you pretty much had a foolproof plan to get the hell out of your psycho household, you just needed to wait for the right moment to act on it.

amidst all of this, you knew it was dangerous to get involved with a muggle born, and you knew you were being selfish by risking yours and hermione’s lives. but there was something about her. the way she would make you feel when your insistent nagging got her lips to turn up just a little bit, or when you did something particularly embarrassing and finally got a boisterous laugh to erupt from her mouth in the middle of potions ( snape was not happy with the two of you ).

so you knew it was dangerous, you really did. but as soon as you saw hermione in the corridor right outside of the slytherin common rooms, waiting for you like you had anxiously asked her to after dinner yesterday, you knew you were down bad. you knew you were down bad because as soon as you saw her face drop when draco malfoy approached her, your heart lurched and you basically sprinted to where she was standing. she was in the middle of telling malfoy to shut up when you slid up beside her and threw an arm around her shoulder ( because protective instincts.... duh! ), somehow managing to simultaneously tell him to “sod off” and flip him the bird while hermione sunk into your side like there's no place she’d rather be.

as the two of you ran off, you couldn't help but mutter into her ear “mione, i'm not sure.....but i think his father will be hearing about this.”

you had a feeling that the laugh she let out was one you’d be hearing in your dreams for a while.

“so, where would you like to take me y/n.” she spoke, the air of the previous laughter still heard in her voice.

“tell me anything you wanna do.”

she hummed  “i don't know. how about the three broomsticks?”

while you were mulling it over, she slipped her hand in yours. your head immediately turned to meet her eyes.

there's no touch or feeling

pleasure or pain

anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins

the sudden affection had you choked up, and you had to clear your throat before continuing “um, that sounds great.”

as soon as the consent left your lips she was dragging you up the road and into the warmth of the pub, where madame rosmerta greeted the two of you at the front door. hands still intertwined, you ordered two butterbeer before wandering off into a booth. it was cozy, and you found yourself ravishing in the feeling of it all; going on hogsmeade dates, holding hands, and curling up in a booth with your drinks. it wasn’t long before you and hermione were mindlessly chatting about anything and everything, falling so deeply into conversation. only breaking out when you make her laugh, or when you go speechless at the broad smile that completely lights up her face, something that you noticed was specifically reserved for silly stories about harry and ron or her parents. you hoped that someday she would be able to talk about you with that marvellous smile on her face.

“you’re staring.” she looked adorably embarrassed at the sentiment, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I just can't take my eyes off of you.” it was a bold ( albeit true ) statement, and hermione swore to merlin you looked like you never meant any other utterance more.

“that's very generous of you, but i'm afraid i'm not that attractive.”

you looked at her in complete disbelief, “okay, okay, i’m going to wholeheartedly disregard what you just said,” taking a pause for dramatic effect “because you are the single most beautiful girl i've ever laid my eyes on, hermione granger.”

if the girl wasn’t blushing before, she was now. the way she was scrunching up her nose was the cutest, and you found her obvious inability to take a compliment quite charming. it actually boosted your own confidence, and you found yourself wanting to shower her with praises for the rest of your life just to see her reaction over and over again.

“what?” you teased, a sly smile making its way onto your face, “don't tell me potter and co deprive you of the flattery you deserve.”

the way she tilted her head and had her eyes narrowed ever so slightly told you everything you needed to know, she watched as your eyes widened in shock but shook it off because of the awkward air that was suddenly formed over the topic.

you were quite literally panicking, what if you just ruined everything? curse your slytherin ambition, you must’ve gone too far with your allusive comments. hermione hadn’t talked for about five minutes now, opting to finish her butterbeer, and the energy full of endless conversation dissipated long ago. your mug was still half full, sitting in front of you. you were just sitting there, staring at it, frantically searching your brain for something to talk about but you were fucking blanking. you were failing at pretty much the only thing you pride yourself on, and it happened to be the thing that got hermione to even go out with you in the first place.

once hermione was finished nursing her drink, you decided to speak now before she decided to make up an excuse to leave. “I'm sorry if I went too far, I do that sometimes and I made you uncomfortable, and i'm so sorry.”

then, she did the one thing you would have never even fathomed. she laughed. the girl was chortling, her head thrown back and when she finally came down from her fit she had tears running down her face.

“I'm sorry,” she said, noticing your eyebrows furrowed in concern “i've just never had someone apologize for complimenting me.”

you let out an anxious chuckle, “well you did kind of stop talking there, i figured i hit a nerve.”

“oh no! i just used to, um, fancy ron and he hasn't complimented me nearly as much in 6 years then you’ve had in an hour.” she stumbled over her words a bit as she spoke, evidently uncomfortable discussing her previous crush on weasley.

“well,” you dragged on, “i think you deserve all the flattery in the world.”

you swore to salazar slytherin himself her smile lit up the whole room, and your heart swelled when she reached over the table to grab both of your hands and link them with hers.

“how about we go for a walk, the black lake maybe?” the suggestion brought your attention to how dark it had gotten outside, you estimated that you had about an hour till the sun set. you smirked.

“I see you’re trying to snag a sunset kiss by the black lake, granger.”

your smirk turned into a full on smile as she got flustered once again, biting her lower lip.

“it's absolutely barbaric that you would allude to that, l/n.” the sarcasm was clear in her tone as you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

leaving the three broomsticks hand in hand once again, the two of you made your way down to the lake. you take off the sweater you were wearing to spread it across the grass for you and hermione to settle yourselves on. it wasn't very big, but neither of you seemed to mind as you snuggled into each other against the nights breeze. your arm making its way around her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.

you two watched the sunset in silence. it wasn’t awkward like a few minutes ago, there wasn’t a need to fill it with dialogue, it was completely comfortable. hermione adjusted under your arm and turned her head to look at you, the sudden change in direction making a few curls get caught in her glossed lips. before she could even lift her arm, you were already there, brushing her hair behind her ear. your hand found its home behind her neck as you angled your head to brush your nose against hers, her lip unconsciously making its way in between her teeth again.

you took a sharp breath and spoke, “every little thing you do drives me wild.”  

“are you gonna give me that kiss, or keep talk-”

you could feel her words melt away against your lips as you took action and pushed her head towards yours. her hands tightening around your waist and her soft sighs as your lips connect act as reminders that she wants this as much as you, and you are so damn thankful that she leans back in after you separate to take a breath.

and the sun sets with the two of you, hanging onto each other like you were each others lifelines, previous thoughts about your family or the stupid slytherin/gryffindor feud are long gone by now. 

you decide that you can deal with all of your problems in the near future, because now you have hermione safe in your arms, and that's more than enough motivation for you to stay right where you are.

#kelly's 3k wc ! #harry potter #hermione granger x reader #gender neutral reader #hogwarts #hogsmeade #this is my first like writing post so please be nice to me #I'm sorry if this is shit #i tried #plz give me constructive criticism #i need it

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 4 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first three chapters please~)

"Wow. Either we're going to host a pasta eating contest this evening, or they have spread some news about an incoming pasta shortage in the country," Ciri teases as she looks at the mass of pasta boxes on the counter. "Or in the world," she corrects when she realizes he is still not done taking the pasta boxes out of the grocery bags. "Which one is it?"

"Neither."

"Then why?"

"Can't a guy buy pasta as much as he wants simply because he wanted to? Does there need to be a reason for that?"

"So, you're telling me that I cannot buy as much as candy I want, but you can buy a ridiculous amount of pasta. And you can do that because?"

"Because I'm an adult, and you're not. End of the discussion."

"But that's not fair!" Ciri huffs, folding her arms over her chest. "I can't wait to be an adult so I can get whatever I want and be unstoppable."

Geralt reaches over and ruffles her hair before he asks: "What kind of pasta do you think we should make?"

"Can I ask something, too, before I answer to that?" When Geralt nods, she continues, "You've said that you met someone special, but you didn't let me know anything more than that. Is... Is this special person going to join us for dinner today?"

"Yeah, someone's going to join us for dinner, but it's not someone you don't know. Just Mrs. April."

"Oh. Okay. Nothing came out of it, I guess."

Ciri looks so disappointed that Geralt feels like telling her the truth. But no, he won't ruin the surprise and let it go to waste after keeping his mouth shut this whole time.

She picks up the penne one and shakes the box to make her point.

"With chicken, heavy cream, and—"

"And sundried tomatoes."

Geralt doesn't know why he couldn't think of that. It's both his and Ciri's favorite pasta recipe after all. For a second, he feels extremely stupid for buying every kind of pasta he could find. But then he thinks: "This won't be the last time Jaskier comes here," and finds himself imagining them trying to choose what kind of pasta to make together, and shakes his head a little. No need to feel stupid, he will have to deal with not only one, but two pasta monsters soon if he is lucky.

He smiles at the thought.

***

After setting up the table, Geralt takes a shower and starts to get ready. He nearly asks Ciri which button-up shirt he should wear, but then decides against it since he knows that she would put two and two together and ask something like:

"Since when you use your most expensive perfume at home just because our old, lovely neighbour will come over for dinner?"

Nope, he'll pass, thank you very much. He takes a look at his gray and white windowpane shirt, then at the other shirt he is holding in his hands as if making the hardest decision in his whole life. He doesn't want to look like he is trying too hard, but doesn't want to look like he's not trying at all either. It has been so long since the last time he was on a date that he—

"That's a... date," he whispers to himself because it only occurs to him now.

And suddenly he can understand why Jaskier sounded anxious about meeting Ciri.

This is technically their first date, and Geralt simply invited him over like that's something they have been doing for years. Most people don't even mention their kids on the first date— let alone introducing them.

But it's not the same thing, right? Jaskier already knows about Ciri, and the musician loves kids.

Jaskier didn't back away when Geralt talked to him about his daughter for the first time.

No, he didn't back away and didn't give him this "Oh no, he has a kid, that's such a deal-breaker”  look like most people do. What he did was listening to him with interest instead, a warm smile on his face.

Maybe that's why it felt only natural to invite him over for their first date.

Still, even though he knows that everything will go perfectly fine, maybe it wasn't fair to put such pressure on him just yet.

Well, too late for thinking stuff like that now. Geralt doesn't think he will regret this though. He is somehow sure that he won't.

Smiling, he decides that the basic black button-up shirt and beige trousers will do just fine.

A few minutes later he gets a text from Jaskier:

[I'll be there in a few. Don't forget to leave the door open~]

***

Ciri is busy lying on the couch and watching Jaskier's cover again when he finally arrives.

He closes the door behind himself, being careful so as not to make any sound even though he doesn't have to do that since Ciri's watching the video at full volume and wouldn't hear even if he just hit the door shut anyway.

When he sees that Geralt is standing only a few feet away from him in the hallway, his whole face lights up like he has just seen a million fireflies hovering above them.

For a while, they don't even move.

They don't blink or utter anything.

They just simply stare at each other like they cannot believe this is really happening.

Jaskier looks so perfect with his dark jeans and a white button-up shirt with blue small anchors pattern that Geralt swallows—as always, he seems like he doesn't even accept the existence of the first four buttons.

One second later Jaskier mirrors him and swallows, then takes small, silent steps towards him until they're barely one step away from each other.

"It's good to finally see you, Mr. Handsome Nurse," whispers the musician, never taking his eyes off Geralt even for a millisecond.

"You call me 'Mr. Handsome Nurse' so much that I'm this close to thinking that you only talk to me because you have a nurse kink or something," Geralt whispers back, and Jaskier's lips slowly curve into a lopsided, mischievous grin as he slowly tilts his head to the side—the space between them closing.

He isn't sure which one of them is responsible for that, but he nearly feels the man's warm breath against his skin—they are so close that he can see his pupils react, and his heart skips a beat.  

"I mean, I don't not have it," Jaskier lifts one shoulder in a half shrug "You're the one to blame. Oh wait, do I hear my own cover?"

Just like that, they are not standing too close to each other anymore, and it's probably for the best, considering they aren't alone and he doesn't want to give his daughter a heart attack.

"The very same. She watches your video again and again. I stopped counting after the fifth time."

"And yet she doesn't even know that she lives with the 'jabroni' she is mad at. Poor thing." The musician clicks his tongue before he grins again. "Or poor you. We shall see. Anyway, my time has come."

After hanging his paper bag on the hall stand, Jaskier silently steps into the living room and makes a beeline for the back of the couch Ciri is lying on.

"Gosh, what a handsome man," he comments as he leans over the back of the couch. "Eh," he says, scrunching his nose, "his nose doesn't look that great in the left bottom box from this angle, but well, what done is done."

Ciri practically jumps out of her skin when she turns her head to the source of the familiar voice. She screams, yeah, actually screams, and falls from the couch to the floor with a loud thump.

"Well, my fans usually prefer to hug me instead, but that's an option as well."

Ciri doesn't look like she is going to say something anytime soon. She just stares at Jaskier with owl-like wide eyes, and Geralt tries his best not to laugh as he leans against the door frame and watches them. The keyword is "tries" though because he is clearly failing.

"...why Jaskier is standing in our living room?" his daughter asks, eyes still on the musician.

"You can thank my hacker friend for that," looking pretty amused, Jaskier answers before he could and holds out a hand to help her to her feet, "he gave me access to all of my fans' addresses so I could surprise them one by one."

"Did I fall asleep? I'm quite sure that I'm dreaming." Ciri blinks twice like trying to come out of a dream, then frowns as she gets up, "Also, that's the worst idea I've ever heard, what if one of your fans turns out to be a psycho and traps you in their house for the rest of your life? Never lets you leave?"

"Well, I wouldn't have any objection to being trapped in here. Feel free to try. Let me know though if you guys are planning to keep me here forever, so I can grab a few essentials from my home."

"You mean your lute?"

Jaskier turns his head to Geralt before sitting on the couch and saying: "She is really a smart one, Geralt. Just like her dad."

"Even smarter than me, believe me."

If someone would tell Geralt that he would have to say "Ciri, please stop poking our guest,"  to his daughter ever, he wouldn't believe them, but he finds himself warning Ciri with the exact words since she sits next to Jaskier and disbelievingly pokes the man's cheek with her index finger with a determined and curious expression as if she is examining E.T. The musician doesn't seem like he minds it, though.

"You're real. And you're really here," she eventually decides.

"Yeah, as real as that delicious smell coming from the kitchen."

"This doesn't make any sense. I just can't understand why— I mean how is that even— Can someone please explain to me what's really happening here?"

"Why don't we do that while having dinner before it gets cold?" Geralt offers, and Jaskier must be really hungry because he immediately stands up from the couch and pulls Ciri with him before she can resist.

***

"So, basically, my dad was your nurse for nearly a month and I learn about this just now?" Ciri has this 'How could you do this to me?' expression on her face, so Geralt turns to link eyes with Jaskier and mouths the word, 'help' in his direction. Yes, he can deal with even villain-looking, probably dangerous criminal patients without any hesitation, but he can't deal with the way his daughter stares at him right now.

"It's not your dad's fault, Ciri. I told him not to tell you anything about it so we could surprise you."

Geralt loves how he says "we could" like they are a team, to be honest.

Jaskier keeps talking about how Geralt would let her know if it wasn't for him, and Ciri doesn't look that mad anymore until Jaskier adds: "It's not my fault that he is a handsome jabroni who didn't even send me a text and kept me waiting for too long though," while casually stabbing his salad with his fork a few times. "If he didn't call me today, my next cover was going to be 'Call Me Maybe' probably."

Geralt almost chokes on his water. He was so wrong about this whole "team" thing apparently. He knows that some people say "A first date is chaotic by nature", but he wouldn't think it would be this chaotic.

"This salad is pretty good, Geralt." Jaskier completely ignores his reaction, "And the pasta makes me feel like there's a festival in my mouth. It's fantastic. You weren't kidding when you said you could show me how a proper dinner looked like, I see. Kudos to you, gorgeous."

Geralt feels the heat rushing to his whole face, wishing the ground would swallow him up right now and here.

Seriously, someone please bury him.

If someone was told to look mad, surprised, and happy at the same time at an audition they would exactly look like Ciri—or Harrison Ford since he's excellent at that as well—because that's exactly how she looks right now.

"...this song was for my dad? He's the one who kept you waiting? He's the him in 'It Must be Him' ?"

"Uh-huh. That's correct, dear," Jaskier confirms before shoving some pasta into his mouth. "I think he's worth waiting for, though. Still, it was a bit mean of him to do so, don't you think so?"

"Any sane person would agree with you, Jask. Of course, it's mean and inconsiderate."

Jask? Did Ciri just call him Jask?

They are already teaming up against him, oh God.

"Right?! Thank you!" The musician exclaims, flinging his hands in a wild gesture. "I mean, he could just send me a simple text at least, it would take him only a few seconds."

"Don't even mention it. So... Since he finally called you and you're here now, does this mean that you're this special person he—"

"Do you want some more pasta, Jaskier?" Hoping to change the subject, Geralt cuts in, but it's in vain since Jaskier just replies with a quick "Sure, please," and apologizes on behalf of Geralt because he interrupted her, signaling her to continue. The nurse can't help but think that he looks like a fox digging beneath the snow for voles with these curious, hopeful, and focused blue eyes.

"It's okay," thank God his daughter doesn't continue with her question because Geralt really doesn't need to feel more ashamed, "I forgot what I was going to ask anyway."

Ciri gives Geralt her "This isn't over yet," look and asks the man something about one of his original songs instead.

Jaskier looks a bit disappointed at not being able to hear the rest of the question at first, but he answers Ciri's question wholeheartedly all the same.

***

They take their time eating as they have no reason to hurry, talking about whatever Ciri and Jaskier bring up. Geralt is proud of himself that he didn't actually choke in dinner, because with the amount of flirting Jaskier is doing in front of Ciri, he wouldn't be surprised if he did.

Ciri's eyes sparkle whenever Jaskier says something flattering about Geralt and flirts with him, and she looks extremely happy—like she is living in a dream.

As much as Geralt says: "Sit down, you're our guest," Jaskier doesn't listen to him and insists that he helps clear the table after they are done with dinner, because: "We can be done with it faster if I help, I'm a guest with working hands, aren't I?"

So he helps with clearing the table, and also with drying the dishes Geralt washes by hand because they aren't supposed to be washed in the dishwasher. He answers Ciri's questions meanwhile and asks her some questions about her as well— her favorite color, her favorite animals, favorite subject in school. Geralt can feel that he is not asking just for the sake of asking, he asks because he wants to know. Because he actually wonders.

Even though Jaskier is here for the first time, it feels domestic in a way that isn't unwelcome.

When they go back to the living room, Jaskier disappears for a while and returns with that paper bag he had hung on the hall stand.

"Thought I'd surprised my biggest fan not only with my presence but also with a little gift," he explains, handing the big bag to Ciri with a smile. "I hope you like it."

"You shouldn't have," Ciri returns the smile, astonished.

"I wanted to," Jaskier says as he sits on the armrest of the couch, watching her carefully opening the gift. "I think you should just tear off the wrap, dear," he suggests after a while, clearly excited to see her reaction.

"Not gonna lie, I also thought about getting flowers for your dad, but then I thought: 'Nah! Why would I do that after I suffered because of him for fifteen days?' You know?"

Geralt lets out a long sigh, running a hand over his face. Jaskier will never let him live this down, will he? Geralt can picture him going "Remember that time you didn't call me for fifteen days five years ago? When you kept me waiting after I left the hospital? I still think of that time sometimes and it makes my heart bleed," five years later, simply because he refused something Jaskier wanted him to do.

"You did the right thing. He should be grateful that you're even here right now," Ciri agrees. Well, fuck Geralt I guess. It's not like he is Ciri's father who loves her more than anything and who needs her to defend him currently or anything after all.

She immediately goes for a hug as soon as she finally opens the gift, cheerfully declaring how much she likes it and thanking the musician.

"Geralt has mentioned that you love drawing," Jaskier hugs her back gently, happy with her reaction. He had bought her a huge, professional art set. It looks so beautiful that even the nurse feels like taking a shot at drawing again despite knowing too well that he sucks at it.

"I don't get gifts or flowers, okay, no problem, but can't I get a damn hug, too, at least?" Geralt feels like asking, because they look adorable and he wants in, dammit.

As if he is reading his mind, Jaskier motions for him to join them and says: "C'mere you emotional cactus—don't stand up over there like a sad spare tyre."

"I'm not a sad spare tyre," he grumbles a little but joins them in seconds, one arm hugging his daughter, the other hugging the musician.

"Yeah, now you're not," is what Jaskier says as he hugs them tighter.

***

About two hours later Geralt offers to watch a movie together and Ciri is busy setting up a movie—ninety percent "I, Robot" because she is crazy about that movie—before Jaskier can refuse.

Ciri talks about how mad she was when she first watched the movie with Geralt because she thought the movie would be about the short stories in the book, but in reality, the movie had very little to do with the book.

"It's okay though," she adds, "because this movie rocks anyway."

That's how they find themselves watching "I, Robot" with Ciri sitting between them with a big bowl of popcorn in her lap.

"Geralt, can I ask you something?" Jaskier asks before he shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

"You look like a squirrel stuffing his little cheeks with walnuts," Geralt can't help but tease, "sure, ask if you don't get choked before you can."

"That's how you enjoy popcorn, you peasant."

"I don't know much about that since I don't like popcorn."

Jaskier gasps at that as if he said: "I bathe in the blood of the innocent every single day to maintain my health."

"How come someone doesn't like popcorn is behind my comprehension," he huffs like he is personally offended by that. Ciri warns them to keep it quiet with a loud "shhh," since she is fully focused on the movie.

"God, it's the same reaction every time I tell someone this," Geralt complains, "it doesn't even taste good, what there's to like?"

"You can always add some salt so it tastes good."

"It makes me feel thirsty then."

"Everyone loves popcorn! Everyone!"

"Well, not my dad," Ciri rolls her eyes as she pauses the movie. "If you weren't here he wouldn't even let me have popcorn even if I begged. 'It's not healthy, Ciri. And it doesn't even taste good. Let me peel some apples for you, instead.' " she imitates him, causing Jaskier to look at him in horror.

"Can you please stop looking at me like I'm a circle freak? I just don't like popcorn. Even that one pizza with peanut butter and gumball Crazy Eyes orders in 'Mr. Deeds' sounds more delicious than popcorn."

"...ew, just ew. I'm concerned for you if you actually think that. How about caramel popcorn?"

"I feel the same about caramel popcorn."

"You're impossible, Geralt. Totally impossible. Well, what can I say? Your loss, our gain. Right, dear?"

"Right!"

"Give me a high-five then!" The musician says with a grin, raising his hand. They share a high-five proudly as if they have just saved the world together from earth-threatening asteroids.

"What were you going to ask?" Geralt asks curiously, but Jaskier just blankly looks at him instead of answering.

"Let me guess. You forgot? See, you wouldn't forget it if it wasn't for all that popcorn questions of yours."

"Don't talk like that in front of our popcorn, Geralt. Ciri, can you please keep playing the movie?"

"Gladly."

***

"I think she fell asleep," Jaskier informs him with a whisper when there are about twenty minutes left of the movie.

Geralt pauses the movie and smiles when he sees that Ciri had fallen asleep on the musician's shoulder—the sight warming up his heart especially when Jaskier looks at her fondly.

"Figured out so. Usually, this is where she announces her dislike for V.I.K.I and rants about Sonny's wink."

"Can't blame her, V.I.K.I is so diabolic."

"We're all on the same page about that," he agrees. "Hey, it doesn't seem like you made her go 'meh' like you were afraid that you would, huh? I told you that she already adores you. I think she likes you even more now."

"Well, I was afraid that I couldn't prove that I was worthy of her gorgeous dad. And I hope her dad shares his daughter's feelings," Jaskier pokes Geralt's arm with his elbow teasingly.

"Oh, please. If anything, it was me who should have been afraid. You two teamed up against me, 'Jask'."

"It's because she's a defender of truth, not because she was playing favorites or anything."

"I better tuck in this defender of truth," Geralt says as he stands up, and if his eyes aren't fooling him, Jaskier watches him affectionately when he picks up Ciri so he can carry her to her room.

He gently carries her to her room and tucks her in. "Sweet dreams, pumpkin," the nurse plants a soft, small kiss on his daughter's head before heading back to the living room, feeling happy that he has seen her smile and laugh a lot today. And truth be told, he feels a bit excited that he can be alone with Jaskier for a while.

"Wanna finish the movie?" he asks after settling on the couch and plays the movie again when Jaskier nods.

"I've forgotten how cool this scene was." Jaskier says when Spooner screams "Save her! Save the girl!" and Sonny listens to him, trusts Spooner to apply the nanites. "Gosh, I've got goosebumps. Seriously. It's not even just a figure of speech."

When Jaskier holds his arm up to show it, Geralt gently strokes the other man's arm by instinct, feeling goosebumps along his skin. As soon as he does that, he feels that he gets goosebumps himself, but it has nothing to do with the movie, and everything to do with the beautiful man sitting next to him right now—even though, yeah, Jaskier is right, this scene is so cool that no one can claim otherwise.

Without Ciri between them, they sit close to each other now, their thighs touching.

Geralt looks at Jaskier's surprised face; his incredibly blue eyes look so luminous in the reflected light from the TV. So luminous, and intriguing.

A moment later, Jaskier makes himself more comfortable on the couch. He then points at Geralt's right arm: "Is it okay if I— you know."

It amazes Geralt how he shamelessly flirts with him in front of his daughter but gets shy over this. He holds back a chuckle, gladly wrapping his arm around Jaskier.

He wonders if Jaskier can hear his heartbeats quickening when the musician leans his head on his chest.

"You make a comfy pillow."

"Thank you, I guess?"

"No, Geralt. Thank you."

And with that, they focus on what's left of the movie. Or more like Jaskier focuses on it while Geralt is busy focusing on him.

He knows that Jaskier is really focused on the movie because he hears him sniffing lightly when Sonny asks "Does this make us friends?" to Spooner five minutes later.

"Are you seriously crying over a robot right now?" he chuckles.

"He has a name, you heartless man," Jaskier argues, getting rid of Geralt's arm and wiping his tears away. "You don't understand," he holds a hand up in defense, "he made a friend. Sonny made a friend, Geralt. For the first time in his life."

"...so?"

"So? What do you mean 'so'? It's an emotional scene." The musician lets out a frustrated sigh, "You're unbelievable."

"I'll let you know that even Ciri doesn't cry at this part."

Instead of making a comment, Jaskier turns to look at the TV again, so Geralt does the same, but he soon finds himself looking at him again because of his lack of comment when the movie is about to end. And that's how he realizes that the other man is busy trying to blink away the tears that have started to well up in his eyes once more.

As he watches Jaskier wrapping his arms around himself as if he's trying to hold himself together, he feels like this isn't really about Sonny anymore—maybe it never was.

"Jaskier..?" he calls his name, but the musician doesn't reply, looking lost in his thoughts. So Geralt puts his hand on Jaskier's shoulder and calls his name again, concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asks when Jaskier finally snaps out of his own head and confusedly looks at him.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just— I don't know what came over me."

Not buying Jaskier's answer, Geralt presses his lips together and just stares at him in a way that screams: "We both know that this is not true and I'm gonna keep staring at you until you tell me what's the matter."

"Seriously, it's nothing important," Jaskier gives a dismissive wave of his hand and tries to smile.

It isn't his usual, warmer than the sun on a summer day type of smile. It isn't his spectacular smile that makes Geralt think of everything beautiful in the world; makes him think of the most beautiful, colorful flowers, makes him think of a sweet wind that gently caresses your face just when you need it, making you feel at peace.

No, it isn't Jaskier's kind of smile that makes Geralt feel like watching the waves while listening to calming melodies, and he hates this heartbreakingly apologetic and tight smile the other man gives him.

"Doesn't seem like it," Geralt says softly as he squeezes his shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, "Why don't you tell me what it is? I've been told I'm a good listener."

"It just—" Jaskier takes a deep breath and keeps his head low as he avoids looking at Geralt, his shoulders slumping as if in defeat. Geralt's mind is already racing with possible things that the musician could say.

"It reminded me of someone I used to know. Of my first real friend," he explains. "She had asked me the exact same question when I saved her ass from his so-called foster parents. 'Does this makes us friends?' I can still remember the look in her eyes when she asked that. I was the first friend she ever had, as well. We didn't get along when we first met, truth be told. But after that, we were simply inseparable.  

"We weren't liked by most adults—and also by the other kids actually, because well," Jaskier chuckles dryly, "we were both pretty handful kids. It didn't really matter though, we could handle everything together. At least we felt like we could, and did so for nearly fourteen years, and then turned out we—"

Jaskier swallows the tight lump that has formed in his throat. He can hardly utter the next words, and when he does, his voice is thick with emotion.

"Turned out we can't handle too well with muggers with knives."

Feeling his own eyes brimming with tears, Geralt can't even react at first as he watches Jaskier crying openly.

After a while, "I'm so sorry," is all he can say before he wraps his arms around Jaskier's slightly shaking frame and pulls him into a hug. The other man welcomes the hug and snuggles up to him as Geralt repeats the same words again: "I'm so sorry, Jaskier."

"She was my best friend, Geralt," he whispers brokenly, burying his face in the nurse's chest. "She was like the sister I never had."

Geralt doesn't know how long they stay like this; with Jaskier quietly crying and holds on to him like he is his lifeline and Geralt resting his chin on top of the musician's head, caressing his soft hair with his left hand, and rubbing small, soothing circles on wherever his right hand can reach—on his arm, his back. It can be half an hour, it can be only fifteen minutes. He doesn't really care.

He just wants him to give Geralt his usual, heart-warming Jaskier Smile; wants Jaskier to feel better. Better and not lonely anymore.

He highly doubts that Jaskier has let anyone in after he lost his friend—let them really know him and get close to him. Anyone besides Geralt. And he can't help but wonder if that was why no one visited Jaskier at the hospital; if that was why he most likely didn't even let anyone know about the accident.

" 'm sorry for ruining our first date," Jaskier eventually mumbles. "I shouldn't have brought this up."

Geralt gently grabs Jaskier's chin and lifts it up a little so their eyes meet. Jaskier has a guilty, ashamed expression on his face, his eyes are red from crying.

"You're not ruining anything, you don't need to apologize," Geralt looks into his eyes and assures him, wiping the tears away from the musician's face.

Frowning, the other man mirrors his action and reaches for Geralt's face to wipe the tears away with his thump. "Making you cry is pretty much considered as ruining our date in my book. And to think that I just broke down because of something a bloody robot said—"

" 'A bloody robot'? He has a name, you know. It's Sonny. You heartless, beautiful musician. Shame on you."

Surprised by Geralt's comeback, Jaskier laughs and hides his face in the nurse's chest once again—but in embarrassment this time— as he complains: "Oh lord. You're the worst."

"Well, you probably shouldn't have dedicated that impressive, amazing video to me if I'm that bad. Seemed like you really spent so much time on it."

That makes him look at Geralt and give him a smile. And Geralt finds himself smiling back, too, thinking: "Here it is. His Jaskier Smile."

"I think you meant to say 'bearable musician', before" Jaskier teases. "That's the second time you've mentioned it, you really like it then I guess."

"That was one of the nicest things someone ever has done for me. And the same thing goes for your drawing, speaking of which," Geralt admits as Jaskier pulls himself away from him a bit. He finds himself missing his warmth already. "I didn't think you would do something like singing a song for me though, so imagine my surprise when I got home and saw that video."

"Wait, for real? Don't tell me that I'm the first patient who tried to serenade you. I mean— you're just so..." he vaguely gestures to him, "So you."

"You're not the first patient who tried to flirt with me, but you're the first one who took it that far. And the first one who went full 'here's my number, so call me, definitely,' on me."

"No regrets. Well, actually, I take that back. One regret. I regret that I didn't ask for your number that day. Uh, Geralt?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel terrible about before. I mean it, I shouldn't have brought it up and I'm really—

"If you say 'sorry' again I'll lock you in a room filled with popcorn without any salt and let you rot there."

"That's your idea of torture?"

"That's my idea of hell."

"I must say that your idea of hell is pretty sweet then, if only it—" Jaskier's eyes suddenly widen when Geralt lets out a tired yawn, "Oh shit, what time is it?" he asks, frantically searching for his phone on the couch, then looking at the coffee table to see if it's on there.

"I think you left your phone in the kitchen," the nurse replies, not understanding why he is panicking. “Maybe he was supposed to call someone, but he forgot about it,” his mind suggests, but then Jaskier asks the same question again with a bonus, "When are you gonna go to work tomorrow?" question.

"You're gonna wake up early tomorrow, right? I'm sorry that I kept you this— I mean, please accept my apologies that I kept you up this late. And please don't let me rot in the Popcorn Room just because I said 'sorry'. It's late, isn't it? It's probably already past 1 a.m, and yet here I am. Good God," the musician shakes his head and stands up, clearly frustrated with himself, "how inconsiderate of me."

Finding his reaction to the situation adorable, Geralt chuckles and reaches out to the other man to pull him back on the couch, but Jaskier resists.

"It's okay, calm down. I'm on the night shift tomorrow," Geralt lets him know. "Also, I thought you had no problem with the Popcorn Room since you love popcorn."

"Oh. Glad to hear that you don't need to wake up that early tomorrow then," Jaskier says, looking like he feels suddenly stupid. "Still though, I'm sure you had a tiring day at work today, so I better get going already. And for the record; I don't have any problem with being locked in a room filled with popcorn, I have a problem with not having you there with me. Anyway, thank you for having me today, Geralt. I'm so happy that I could finally see you again and finally met Ciri. She is such a sweetheart."

Geralt pats the empty space next to him, but Jaskier taps his wrist twice like he's wearing a watch, trying to emphasize the time.

"Wow, you're trying to get rid of me already, I see," the nurse jokes, hoping it would make Jaskier convince to sit down again. "I thought it would take three days at least. Is it because I'm not wearing my work clothes? Am I not attractive enough without them?"

Jaskier rolls his eyes at that before saying: "You could wear a rubbish bag and still look attractive, Geralt."

"Then can you please sit down?" Geralt insists, "For a minute at least?"

The other man finally gives in and sits down next to him with a sigh.

"You're aware of the fact that Ciri will tear me to pieces tomorrow because I didn't wake her up when she fell asleep, right?" Geralt wonders, facing Jaskier and propping his elbow on the back of the couch so he can prop his hand against his cheek as he talks. "Besides, yeah, it's late. Why don't you just stay here tonight?"

Jaskier opens his mouth—probably to kindly refuse, but Geralt doesn't let him speak and continues: "If you're thinking about replying with 'I don't want to bother you,' or something like that, you better get ready to say hi to the hell because it's nonsense."

"Hmm." The other man copies his sitting position on the couch, "By 'hell' you mean the Popcorn Room again, of course."

"Damn right."

"Well, I think I'd like to stay away from hell tonight," Jaskier shrugs one shoulder lazily. "Only if you promise to go to sleep soon, though. Otherwise, lead the way to the hell, Mr. Handsome Nurse."

"I think you missed the part where I said I don't have to wake up that early tomorrow," Geralt snorts. "How about we go to the kitchen now so I can make us hot chocolate?"

"No, I heard it loud and clear," Jaskier stares at him with a neutral expression, "but you still need to rest, love."

Geralt hopes Jaskier cannot see he is blushing because of the way the musician chose to finish his sentence.

He is about the resist when Jaskier holds up a finger in warning, "I mean it. I'm outta here if you decide to argue with me on that."

The nurse can't help but sigh in disbelief and disappointment. It makes his heart flutter in his chest though, because he is sure that Jaskier would love to stay up for another hour at least and just keep talking, too, and yet, he puts Geralt first.

As much as he wants to argue, he knows Jaskier is right—he needs to rest, and if he stays up for another hour he won't feel well-rested tomorrow.

"No wonder why Ciri gets annoyed whenever I tell her to go to sleep," he thinks aloud, causing the other man to grin at him.

"So, what do you say? Have you carefully listened and agreed to the terms and conditions? Shake my hand to check the box," Jaskier holds out his hand.

Geralt picks up Jaskier's hand with grace and lightly kisses the back of it without any hesitation. Not expecting this, the musician gapes at him—looking adorable as ever.

"Yes, Jaskier," the nurse smiles, "I have carefully listened and agreed to the terms and conditions."

They finally met! Yasss! A coin for your thoughts? I seriously wonder what you think about this chapter, dear Witchlings.💛 What part did you like the most? Did any part make you laugh or smile? I'd be SO grateful if you let me know 😅

I had so much fun while writing this chapter, by the way—well except for that one particular part. And the thing is even I had no idea. Jaskier just got emotional suddenly and here I was, wondering what the hell was happening. And it didn't feel natural to cut that part out, because it just happened.

And another thing is, I didn't think this chapter would be this long. I was just thinking "They will meet and have dinner together, then Jaskier will leave. That's it."

And I'm not gonna lie, I kinda wrote most of these two chapters in the same week instead of humaning and at one point I seriously started to wonder if Jaskier was planning to leave Geralt's home at all. I was planning to end the chapter when he leaves, so it was like:

-Okay, you met them, you had dinner, time to leave. Ciri, out of nowhere: Time to watch "I, Robot!" Me: No no no, that wasn't my plan, Jaskier is supposed to le— Jaskier, already eating popcorn and watching the movie: I'm going nowhere yet. *** Jaskier: *finally says he better get going* Geralt: Hell no! Me: 

 Joking aside, it's not up to me what he does and I love my precious, silly Dandelion. He can live there forever for all I care, I'm done with trying 😂

(Oh, if any of you have any ideas, feel free to let me know because I'm not sure what's gonna happen in the next chapter for now ><)

Thank you so much for reading 💛  

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #geralt #my writing #nurse geralt au #jaskier x geralt

[reawritesthings]

Desert Moon | JJ Maybank

gif by @toesure 

summary: As things were smooth sailing since the night you met JJ on the roof, there was no escaping the rival between Pogue V Kook.

warnings: swearing 

note: since everyone has been waiting for a part two of rooftop, i finally managed to figure out a perfect ending to this one shot. let me know what you think :) 

read rooftop first | main masterlist | add urself to my taglist

✰✰✰✰

Stealthily, JJ greeted himself into the back lawn of the house. He stood underneath the rose archway to avoid being seen by your mother who always strictly baked a batch of cookies at this given hour. He hears Topper's whiny voice loud and clear, but immediately melted away when a sweet melody escape your own mouth making JJ swoon with admiration. He darted his eyes at the roof where your bedroom window was stationed, it was open ajar which JJ thanked due to his last encounter with the roof.

When the shadows of your family washed away, JJ knew it was his time to put his Pogue skills to the test. He stably made his body onto the roof, latching on the tiles as he hoisted his body weight up. When JJ finally came into contact with your window, he poked his leg through the entrance sliding his body through hoping to be greeted by you.

"Babe? You alive?" JJ whispered whilst he chucked his boots off letting his muddy socks dissolve into the warmth of your pressed carpet.

"I'll be out in a second." You shouted from the ensuite, wrapping a towel around your body. JJ heard the knob turn smirking wide as he knew you took a shower before he arrived.

"Are you just going to stand there? Aren't you going to give your Romeo a hug?"

You nodded, running to his embrace. He let his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you into his chest as he brushed his thumb over the back of your neck. "You smell nice."

"Thanks. I needed to wash away Topper's smell of alcohol and drugs."

JJ chuckled, kissing the top of your head. "I should be dating your brother. He is more up my street."

You pulled away from his embrace causing JJ to whine wanting you close to him. "I'm kidding, baby. Are you going to come to the Kegger tonight?"

"Nope. You know I can't come."

JJ frowned but followed you towards your bed, watching you change into a loose t-shirt he gave you. "Why? We don't have to even stay long... pretty please."

You giggled, snatching the comb from your dresser. "You know Topper will be there and he can't know that I'm dating you JJ. He will kill you."

"I'm not scared of him, Y/N."

You repeated the motion to comb the knots out of your hair, walking towards him. "As much as I believe you, I can't let him hurt you."

"He won't lay a finger on me. He knows not to cross me." JJ confronted, causally moving the comb away from your hair. "I just want to show my girl off."

You stared at him for a moment, admire his indigo darts as you moved closer to him. JJ stands there offering you a simple smile watching you lean your forehead on his. You both closed your eyes, letting the fear and excitement take over you.

"Thank you." You barley say in a whisper.

"For?" He replies, his voice low and husky.

"Being the best boyfriend ever and making me happy." Your voice wavers, leaning in and began to kiss his lips. JJ cupped your cheek, gently caressing your neck with his thumb as the kiss drastically became more fiery and passionate. Your hands roamed his body, feeling his muscles tense as you did that thing he liked with your tongue. JJ indicates your body towards the bed, letting you fall gently as he ventures over your body. You pull away, breathing heavily as you stare into his lustful eyes. No words were exchanged but JJ's eyes were detailed with love and yours were filled with passion. He leaned in again but aiming his lips onto your neck letting you whimper out the anticipation of what could come next. You were ready for JJ to undress you, ready for him to feel you but the vibration from his pocket stopped him from doing so.

"I-Sorry. One sec."

You chuckled, allowing him to check his phone. "Who is it?"

"Pope. He said that John B  is in trouble. I gotta go help him." JJ rambled, taking his body off yours making his way to put his shoes back on.

"Do you want me to come? I can come." You asked, lifting your body up watching JJ tie his shoes up.

"No baby. It's fine. I'll be here later to cuddle you, okay? Promise me you won't come after me." JJ pleaded, giving you one final kiss.

"I promise."

JJ quickly pecked your cheek, before he fumbled out of your window and slid down the roof to make sure he got a safe landing. You watch him run into the twilight, signing at how being with a Pogue always comes with abrupt messages and dangerous nights that JJ always has to dive into.

The night was getting colder and the mechanical sound coming from your clock made the wait time frustrating. You checked your phone and nothing new was shown; just a warning that a hurricane was approaching. You suddenly heard noises from the backyard, inching a smile as you thought JJ was here but he wasn't. It was your brother, shaking like mad as Rafe guided him towards the kitchen. You slowly crept out of your room, rolling over towards the banister to try and get the scoop of what happened. When Rafe's threat mentioned the word, pogue you darted towards your room to alert JJ.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." JJ yelled, tearing the chateau piece by piece to try and find his missing gun. "Where is it, Pope?"

Pope didn't quite understand what was happening so he shot Kiara a look but, she wasn't even paying attention.

"I lost the gun. I lost the fucking gun. I can't find it anywhere." JJ panicked, gripping his hair tightly. That was his only protection, and he managed to lose that.

"I'm sure it's at the beach. I don't even remember you picking it up, JJ." Pope stated, trying to retrace the moments of the scene but the sound of John B screams, and Topper's frantic breathing made Pope panic even more.

"I need to find that gun. It's all I hav-" JJ's words got interrupted by a loud noise coming from his phone. "Fuck, it's Y/N... Do I answer?"

Kiara nodded, "You have too. Topper probably came back home...Go to her and make sure she knows nothing. We will look for the gun."

JJ nodded, running up to Kie as he gave her a tight squeeze. "Love you." Kiara slapped his hand playfully. "Go to her."

JJ never or knew that he could run this fast, he was dodging every light, sliding pass serval cars, and fell a couple of times. He eventually climbed onto the roof, not caring about the freshly new cut that bleeds onto his skin. His fist revealed a hard knock to your window that woke you from a daydream.

"JJ. Where were you? I was worried sick about you." You hiccuped, signing in relief that he was well.

"I just had to clear things up. I'm here now, baby. I'm all good." He reassured you with a tight hug and a light kiss to your forehead. He didn't want to let you go, as the guilt was eating him alive. He didn't even want to express or tell you what happened knowing you wouldn't look at him the same as you did before.

"Is John B okay? Is everything okay?" You asked and JJ hushed you.

"Everything is okay. How about we get some sleep?" JJ hoisting you up, bringing the both of you to the bed. He slowly laid you down, admiring the t-shirt once again that fit perfectly on your body.

"God. You are so beautiful." JJ breathed, jumping on the other side of your bed.

"JJ, did anything happen between the pogues and my brother?"

JJ glued his eyes shut. He hated lying, especially to you. "Nope. Probably just a miss understanding."

You didn't respond.

"Hey, um can I ask you something?"

You turned your body to face his, brushing the hair away from his face. "Anything"

"No matter what happens you will always believe me right? You wouldn't think of me any different? Or, ever break up with me?"

You gave him a discombobulated look, trying to voice in answering his bizarre questions. "Nothing could ever make me think less of you. I love you, JJ."

That's all JJ needed to hear before he wrapped you close to his chest. You snuggled close to him as you heard his heartbeat mellow a little when you heard soft snores coming from his nose. Your eyes began to flicker finally allowing your body to rest for the night. 

- 

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Topper yelled from the other side of the island. He was firing harsh bullets to your heard, filling you in with the events that happened last night. You didn't want to believe him, you knew JJ, he wouldn't do something like this.

"Let me spell it out for you. Your psycho boyfriend put a gun to my fucking head. He tried to kill me." Topper emphasis the word kill, letting it linger in your brain.

"I don't believe you. JJ wouldn't do that." You defended him, you always did and will.

"He tried too kill me. Ask Kelce or Rafe."

You shook your head, you didn't believe him. "I want proof."

Topper smirked, tossing his phone towards you. "You know how to play a video, play it."

You didn't want too. You didn't want to believe him but the sounds of your boyfriend voice clarified everything. You stared at the phone, listening and watching the clip over and over again thinking it will go away but it just got worse. "That's the JJ who you are sneaking around with." "You must of provoked him. H-He wouldn't do it for a random reason." You hiccuped, throwing his phone back to him.

"Invite him over. If you really don't believe."

"I will."

You: Come over later?

JJ: You got it baby

As you were about to lock your phone, Topper twirled around and walked up to you.

"Oh and Y/N. Show him this... he was probably looking for it." Topper handed you a bag, which you immediately opened revealing a gun.

- 

"Hey, babe. Sorry, I had trouble with getting up on the roof. You really need to get that fixed..." JJ rambled, climbing into your window. He noticed that you weren't in your room, which was strange as you texted him to meet.

"Babe?" He called again, checking to see if you were in the bathroom.

You emerged into the light, your body was trembling as you held the gun tightly in the pocket of your jumper. JJ walked towards you but stopped abruptly when you pulled the gun out. He eyed the object that you invited into the light, confused into how you managed to get his missing gun. JJ felt the lump in his throat thicken when he heard the gun rattle in your grip.

"Where did you get that...?"

You froze, "T-This is yours?"

JJ moved closer, attaching his hand onto yours as he retrieved the gun from you.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?" You said quietly, hating how your body obeyed his touch.

JJ brushed his soiled-chipped thumb across the roughness of the object like it was meant to be in his touch. "I was going to."

You shook your head, "Why didn't you tell me when it happened?"

"I couldn't."

You glued your eyes shut, forcing the tear to drown your rouge cheek. You snitched your back but the shakes vibrating around your body attacked you into asking the question you didn't want to ask. "Did you try to kill my brother?"

JJ's shaky breath drastically changed into a wash of anger that he vowed to never show you. "He was going to kill John B. Was I suppose to just let him?"

You wanted to wrap his body into your own, you wanted to melt into his skin and allow him to trace kisses over your face as you giggled for him to stop. But, that wasn't the JJ you saw standing in front of you. It was someone you were warned about in many stories that your father told you to never trust. "You weren’t supposed to do this. Not even a Kook would have done that."

"You think I had a cho-"

"There's always a choice, JJ." You asserted but regretted instantly as you knew that JJ never listened.

JJ held onto his breath, stimulating the tears that escaped his azure mess. He was guilty, it was even shown as soon as his hand reacted to the gun. Holding it like he held you, clarifying to everyone around him that it was safe and no harm would be done.

"I can't do the things you can, Y/N. I'm not a Kook, I'm a Pogue with two sets of boxers. I know a Kook wouldn't have done it. They would have probably got the police involved or their parents but, I don't have that. I barely have a family, Y/N. John B is my only family and we aren't even blood-related." JJ whispered into the air. "I made a mistake. Christ, Y/N. I'm a fucking human and I was protecting my brother."

"So, you had to do it?"

"Y/N, he was going to kill him."

"But, the way it happened... Did you really need to use a gun? Did you really not think of any other way? It seems like you wanted this, like you wanted to hurt my brother."

You saw the bewildered look on his face. "What are you talking about? I didn't have a fucking choice, Y/N."

Your tears welled up with sadness that no teenager should ever possess. You couldn't even fumble the words to respond to his statement. Your mind replayed the video, forcing you to hear the cries coming from your brother and the threats falling out of JJ's mouth. "All those times, those times where he would rally you boys up. You didn't pull a gun to his head, JJ. You let it go." 

"You d-don't believe me do you?" JJ squeaked finally having the strength to look into your eyes.

"I want to, JJ."

JJ moved closer, "So, believe me..." He inched a little closer, but you stayed in gear. "Say you believe me, Y/N." He was an inch away from you, but your body didn't react like it did yesterday. It wasn't leaping into his embrace. It was frozen solid like the gun that was still safely tucked in his hand.

"T-Tell me how I fix this..?" He sobbed. "Tell me and I'll do it."

You let one final breath escape your runny nostrils, itching for your body to react, or even do anything. "G-Go. I just, go JJ."

He didn't listen. He already allowed the tears to freely drown him. His weeping was like an open wound. JJ clasped tightly onto the gun as his body shook. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his vulnerable side but you broke that the minute he saw you hold the gun; his gun. He turned his body to face your window, looking directly at the moon that brought him to you six months ago. When he, at last, turned to face you, he only saw a picture of someone he lost. He knew exactly the type as that was the same image he had left of his mother. It was the face that made your body adjust and walked towards him. The vulnerability he effortlessly showed you made you want to cuddle him, whisper that it will be okay but, it wasn't your job anymore.

"I love you, Y/N." He finally said, letting the moon drag his body out of your window as the light possessed him to not turn back. You saw his shadow leave but his presence was still there, mourning for you to rescue him but it wasn't a stitch-up situation. Your body collapsed onto the carpet where a silhouette of JJ's dirty combat boots was printed. As the last pear-shaped tear left your eyes, the moon finally shone a different way allowing you to not be reminded of the print of his shoe or the presence of his body. You grieved throughout the night, gripping onto the covers as the twilight blue vanished and a set of orange hues blinded you to make you witness a new day.

JJ's body awoke when the light stung his eyes that forced his body to react with pain that you gifted him with. He didn't dare to wake up the others as he couldn't let them see him like this. He never came home broken or rallied them with events that only he was casted in. He usually told the alcohol but, he couldn't even face the disappointment of the liquor dripping down his throat.

"Has anyone seen m- JJ? Are you good, bro?" John B rubbed his thick curly hair, still adjusting to the heavy rays of light that shined in his living room.

JJ forced his body to face John B's. He made a sudden movement that awoke Pope.

"What is going on?" Pope asked rubbing his hands onto his eyes to remove the sleep. 

John B shrugged, "Ask JJ. He looks like he has seen a ghost."

"T-this is your fault," JJ whispered. John B titled his head, knowing full well that he heard something escape from JJ's lips.

"What did you say?"

JJ tucked his hand into a fist colliding his arm with the lamp. "I said, this is your fault."

Pope jumped out of his skin, quickly removing his body from the broken scene. "Dude what are you doing?"

John B knew something happened. His brotherly instincts alerted him when JJ carelessly began to throw every little item that stood in his way.

"You know it wasn't my fault. Topper was trying to drown me."

JJ let out a devilish giggle, "You just had to provoke him, didn't you? You knew I was dating his sister. You knew that I would do anything to protect you so you kept winding him up."

"He was trying to get with Sarah. My Sarah." John B yelled, grabbing the nearest object he could find to defend himself. After the events that happened last night, John B was starting to feel a void in JJ.

"This bitch has brought nothing but harm to us. She is always the priority, she always has to come first." JJ spat, looking at a recent photograph that was neatly framed on the counter.

"If it wasn't for her you wouldn't have even met Y/N. So, you should be thanking her." John B stated but JJ knew, he knew that he would have met Y/N one way or another.

"She fucking hates me, John B. She can't even look at me." JJ screamed, tears flooding his skin once again.

"I didn't ask you to put a gun to his head. That was on you."

JJ dropped his body onto the floor, witnessing the mess that he created. "I've lost the one good thing in my life because you wanted to act all tough. I lost her and, I can't get her back."

Pope being the silent force ran to JJ's fragile body, letting JJ fall back on him while Pope wrapped his body tight in his grip. "She will come around, JJ."

"S-She can't even look at me." JJ sobbed into his Pope's chest, clenching onto his t-shirt for support. Pope maneuvered his head to lock with John B's eyes, gulping his spit as he heard JJ's cries.

John B places the bat onto the table, sliding his body over to Pope's cupping the two boys into his own. "We will fix this, okay?. I'll get Sarah to talk to her.."

JJ nodded sniffling and rubbing his snort over Pope's work shirt.

"Dry cleaning is going to have a field day" Pope muttered under his breath.

"W-What do I do? I need her. I really need her."

Pope gently placed his chin on JJ's clotted hair, unsure in how to answer this question. They held him for a moment, allowing his vulnerability rage the room. A sudden wind tore the boys apart, making John B's head turn towards the door to face the intruder.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" John B asked, not evening thinking twice to let her in.

"I n-need JJ to show me how to use a gun."

Pope's eyes widened with shock, unleashing JJ from his embrace. "Come again."

"I want JJ to show me how to aim and shoot." You stated, this time you didn't stutter. "I haven't got time to play Dr. Phill. I need to know how."

JJ reframed his body, handling his hand onto the countertop to lift his body up. He didn't even believe he would ever hear you say those exact words, or even come here again.

"Y/N... I'm sorry...." JJ chocked out.

"I know. Can you show me how to use a gun?"

JJ didn't understand what he was seeing. He wanted to pour his heart out to you but the sudden shift in your eyes made him question the motive. "Why do you need to use a gun?"

"I need to make sure that my boyfriend or his friends don't get harassed again."

Pope shook his head, crawling away from the craziness that just entered the room. He didn't or think that someone liked you wanted to turn rouge. On the other hand, John B didn't even begin to process what was happening in his own home, he just let it happen like he does with everything.

"When do you wanna start?" JJ asked, walking up to you.

Pope waved his hand drastically in JJ's face, splitting the two apart. "Why are you encouraging this? Please don't turn her into a Bonnie, we prefer her as the sweet magnolia."

You revealed a slight smirk onto your lips. "Exactly. You can use my sweet ass to scary the Kooks away."

Pope wasn't following. "You want JJ to teach you to hold a gun so you can scare your brother and his friends away?"

You nodded, "It's not that hard Pope. It's like a movie we once saw once."

Pope pleaded his gaze to find John B's who was occupied with a bottle of beer. "Y'all people are crazy. How are you okay with this? I need new friends."

JJ rolled his eyes at his frantic friend, pushing him into a tight embrace. "When do you wanna start, magnolia?"

"Right now."

✰✰✰✰

tags: @x-lulu @juliarose21 @softstarkey @ilovejjmaybank @outrbanxs @koufaxx @curlybrownhairedboys @tempestuousjj @judayyyw @maybanksbaby @obx-direction-sos @madeinthemidnightmemories @brithedemonspawn @natalie-kate-98 @outerbankslut @strangerthanfanfiction713 @isntmadrid @teenwaywardasgardian @outerbanksbro @lovegroves @babyybesson @no-trespassing-mtz @abbiesthings @obx-snippets @mya-bleu @imagines-r-s @butgilinsky @prkerspogue @starksweasley @simpforstarkey @downbytheouterbanks @hyperactive2411 @outrbanks @brithedemonspawn @peachydrews @stfukie @i-love-scott-mccall @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @ameeravandijk @pogueszn @etherealtony @idocarealot @katiaw2 @woohoodolan @astrologics @themakofalltrades @ad-infinitums @starkeybabie @modernstorybook @nearlydanger9 @perkeusjackson​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @kennedywxlsh​ @dpaccione​ @sportygal55​ 

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[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 3: Try to Stay Calm and Move on.

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: references to drug usage/ withdrawal, reference to sexual  situations/ sex work/ trafficking.  

Author’s note: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. True to my style, it’s a little long but I think it flows well enough. Thank you for those who have commented on my previous chapters. I very much appreciate it. Thank you for your patients as well; work has been busy and I found out I had covid. I’m ok now but it did set me back a bit in finishing this. As always, please let me know what you think or let me know if you have any comments. I love them and all of you. Please enjoy!

Tag list:  @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine, @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns

                              Chapter 3: Try to Stay Calm and Move On

                 Central Mercy was one of the largest and most active hospitals in all the city. And as you followed the EMTs through the trauma bay doors, the floor was full of medical staff moving about assessing patients. True to its name, Mercy didn’t discriminate and took in those that smaller practices were too scared to take: gang related cases. They feared retaliation. But Mercy was only interested in saving people. A team from the surgical floor came up beside the fast-moving gurney, listening as the EMT got them up to speed. You added some details, though your eyes never left the man on the gurney; he hadn’t regained consciousness since the police arrived and he seemed even paler than before. One of the nurses whispered that Doctor Na was waiting in the operating theatre. Henry Na was one of the top surgeons in all of Central and you felt a wave of relief knowing that the patient couldn’t be in better hands. But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t be at complete ease until you saw the young man awake and alright. And the fear of the unknown made you not want to lose sight of him.

               Before you could question why you felt so drawn to stay by the stranger, one of the nurses put her hands out in front of her and forced you to come to a stop right outside the OR doors. The doors slid shut and you were left alone in the hallway. And that is where the connection should have ended. Doctor Na and his staff would take good care of him, then he’d be transferred to another floor, and you would move on to your own patients. But you couldn’t stop the feeling of wanting to be near the stranger you found in the middle of a gun battle. But why? Could it be because you were a kind-hearted nurse or that you had just gone through a horrific experience together? You had asked him to explain what you had gotten yourself into after all. Perhaps on one of your breaks you could go visit? Was that weird? What would you say? ‘Hi, remember me? I’m the idiot who saved you after you got shot. Want to be friends?’

               Honestly, you didn’t think you were so desperate for companionship that you’d try to forge a friendship with some random guy who’s background you didn’t know. What were you expecting- a friendly relationship that could develop into something else? This wasn’t one of those romantic comedies you watched with Amber and, based on your track record, you weren’t that lucky. For all you knew, this guy was just as dangerous as the man with the cane. With the increase in U4-1A cases, was this a drug deal gone bad? It would be a shame if someone that handsome turned out to be a druggie. There were supposedly others that had gotten away; it could be a turf war. There were so many dangerous possibilities that ran through your mind. No, you sighed, it was best just to let it go. If you were meant to see him again, fate would make it so. Then, you would get some answers. But for now, it was time to get to work and move on.

               “I’m sure Jax is pulling his hair out by now,” you wondered, out loud. “Wonder what Amber’s going to say.”

               You didn’t have to wonder long, for as you turned on your heels, Amber was standing right behind you. Nerves still on edge, you couldn’t help but jump backwards. Amber was the definition of sweet but intimidating as her eyes bore into you. She was thin and lanky, completely swallowed by her baggy scrubs. She had a sharp face with short blonde hair that had been styled with an undercut. That, paired with her piercings and elaborate tattoos that decorated her arms, gave her a strong androgynous look that caught a lot of attention. She stared at you with a look of mixed anxious worry and anger.

               She crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/N,” she said, leaning in, “what the Pineapple?! Are you crazy or stupid?”

               “Is both an option,” you countered, trying to lighten the mood.

               Amber reached over and flicked her middle finger against your forehead. “I’m serious, dumbass, you really gave me a heart attack. You didn’t answer my text and I hear from the dispatch that you’re at the scene of a gang shooting?! I can’t begin to tell you the images my brain was coming up with! I thought I’d find you on a stretcher, covered in blood. I mean,” she gave you a meaningful look up and down, “more so than this.”

               You followed her gaze and, finally, got a good look at yourself. Your simple grey hoodie was covered in dark, splotchy patterns. The cuffs of your sleeves were dried dark from when you had tried to apply pressure to his wounds, there was a large stain on your side that had soaked through to your scrubs from carrying the young man behind the counter, and splattering decorated all over the rest of you. You were glad that the EMTs let you ride along in the ambulance; it would have made your bus ride more interesting looking like a slasher movie victim.

               You held up your hands, defensively. “It’s not mine. I promise, I didn’t get hurt. It’s from the real victim.”

               Amber sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Come on,” she said, ushering you away from the Operating rooms, “let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll tell Jax what’s going on after I get rid of these clothes. There’s no saving them.”

                ~*****************~

               Having skipped your shower this morning due to time, you were quite thankful for the warm water that eased the anxiety still rampant. Once Amber was satisfied that you weren’t injured, she brought you some new scrubs and bagged up your soiled ones to dispose of them. You were annoyed that you were losing your hoodie, since it was the only one you had since coming to Central and you hadn’t had time to go buy new clothes yet. At least you had packed the extra long sleeve shirt to help against the seasonal chill. Amber had left you a pair of grey scrubs that would help you blend in to your work shift. Once you changed, you made your way to your supervisor’s office. Jax was an older gentleman who always seemed to be on the edge of some emotion. The second he saw you, he flung himself at you and made you swear you were to never scare him to the point of turning his hair grey ever again. It took you promising five times before he let you head to your station.

               You weren’t surprised to see Amber sitting at the desk. However, you were surprised to see that she had surrounded herself with a wall of binders and notebooks while she typed away at the computer.

               “Are you preparing for an invasion?”

               “No, you have to stay away,” Amber cried in the most melodramatic tone she could muster. “You can’t come near me. Flee while you can!”

               You tried to contain your laughter with truly little success. “Okay? What happened since I showered? Were you exposed to something or are you just being weird?”

               “No, you just have to avoid me! I’m dangerous! I’m a girl with tattoos,” she exclaimed, holding her heavily tattooed arms out for display. “You have to avoid me!”

               You almost fell over from how strong you rolled your eyes. “You must have seen Mr. Young this morning.”

               “Well, someone had to since you decided to be an action star. And he was extremely disappointed to not see you.”

               You sat down in the chair next to her and wrapped your arms around her and rested your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll pop in on him later. For the record, I like your tattoos. I think they’re super cool.”

               “Don’t think you being cute with all those compliments are gonna distract me from your stupidity. What the heck were you thinking?”

               “I know,” you sighed, “I’m sorry that I worried you.”

               “Worried? That doesn’t even begin to describe that. You didn’t answer my call this morning. Then, I get a text from a random number, apparently you. Only to find out about the shooting. I had a feeling something bad was gonna happen this morning. Spill it, Y/N. What happened?” You gave your friend a quick recap from when you left your building to when the police found you behind the counter trying to keep the young man conscious. You decided to leave out the creepy encounter with the man with the cane and the encounter with the other gang member you had hit with the crowbar; you didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. The entire time, Amber’s face was stern and she had crossed her arms over her chest. “See, this is why you should have just stayed with me at my loft. You’re all alone down there. Clearly I was right about it not being safe.”

               “Don’t be like that. I know you keep saying that you didn’t mind me staying with you, but it was time for me to start trying to live my life again. It may not be as nice as your place but it’s mine. And, this incident excluded, nothing bad has ever happened. It’s just that I couldn’t stop thinking about what I went through and being stronger than the bullies. You taught me that.”

               “Yeah but I didn’t mean going against a gun wielding psycho. It was a metaphor for the nightmares and that piece of shit you call an ex.”

               “I’ll remember that for next time.” You flashed Amber some pleading eyes and pouting lip. “I’m really sorry.”

               Amber groaned, but smiled back at you. “You’re lucky I like you. But I get one more bad feeling, I’m dragging you back and never letting you out of my sight.” She slid you a cup of coffee that you greedily took. You were sure that you had lost your tumbler somewhere at the bus stop, never to be seen again. “By the way, what was the random number you texted from? Did you get a new phone without telling me?”

               You almost choked on your coffee. You had hoped she wouldn’t have asked about that, knowing full well she was not going to be happy about the answer. You cursed at yourself for texting her from it. But with her staring at you, you knew you couldn’t get around it. You reached into your pocket and handed it to her. She, instantly, knew what it was and snatched it from you.

               “Why do you have this still? I thought you got rid of it?”

               “I didn’t mean to grab it. I was in a hurry this morning and it fell into my bag. I left the one you gave me at home and didn’t have time to go back up and get it.”

               “But you had time to run after gun shots?” She tapped around on the screen. “All the settings are back to normal. The locations and notifications are back on, too. Did he call you? Look at all the voice mails.”

               “I didn’t call him. The last message was days ago. I just texted you and read a couple messages. Don’t give me that look, Amber. I was just curious. I have no desire to call him or see him. I’m starting to get somewhat normal. Last thing I want is to fall back into a bad mind set. I just read a few texts to see what he was saying while I was walking. I swear, that’s all. Don’t worry about the settings. He’s not as smart or as tech savvy as you. He couldn’t grasp the concept of emojis, I doubt he’s gonna try anything you’re thinking of. I honestly just needed a phone for today. When I get home, it’s getting shut off and it’s going away for good.”

               “He’s such a scuzzball, trying to still contact you after all that.  This would be less stressful if you gave me his address. I’ll kick his ass up and down the coastline for what he did.”

               “I don’t doubt that. But I have to listen to the group’s advice and just let it go. And I think it’s time I try to focus on other things. That’s the way I’m gonna start to really get better, right?” You had been saying that for a while now, not really knowing how to move on or if you could. But something had changed. You couldn’t help but think back to the gang member, and how he reminded you of Daniel in those last moments you were together. There was a sense of relief and freedom that you just couldn’t help but relish in. It had almost been a cathartic experience that your body needed, the strength to take back yourself. To give back what you felt, to let all that rage and hate that you held deep inside out. It may not have healed you completely, but it was a start.

               The two of you started going over the case load for the day. Even as short staffed as you were, Amber had taken care of most of the early duties: checking on patients, dropping off medicine, and dealing with Mr. Young. You started going through the new files that were stacked on the station while Amber read the report from some of the other floors. It was interesting to see what was happening elsewhere in the ever-busy hospital. There was nothing about your gunshot victim yet, and you crossed your fingers that he was going to be alright. No news was good news, you figured. Amber had started talking about the new U4-1A cases that had been admitted since you were last there. There were four more cases since your last shift. And one of the new cases didn’t make it past 2 days. U4-1A was a highly addictive drug that played off of peoples’ want to feel good and exploited it to deadly consequences.

               “I can’t believe how many cases there are now.”

               “Tell me about it. It’s the new hot thing on the streets. Everyone wants to find ‘Euphoria’.”

               You gave Amber a confused look. “Find ‘Euphoria’? Is that what they call it?”

               Amber grabbed a paper and wrote it out. “Yeah, it makes sense when you look at it and read it out. Change the 1 to an I, and it says euphoria. It sounds better when you’re trying to score without drawing attention, I guess. Remember that one guy who was going through withdrawals at the underground club? He kept asking me if I could ‘help him find Euphoria’.”

               “Seems way too intense for a club drug. If it’s supposed to be like ecstasy and make you feel really good, why does it make you go through the worst kind of side effects and an even worse withdrawal?”

               “The theory the cops believe now is that it was made, primarily, for the sex trade industry.  Very little doses make you feel nice and all that. But pure U4-1A does all that and more. It needs to work its way out of the system fast else it causes heart failure and other bad things. Whoever made it added chemicals that affect the brain and senses, so the user loses all inhibitions and is in a constant state of intense arousal.  So much so that the user is willing to do anything to find a release with anyone. I heard Mary, the lady who’s been on the most U4-1A cases has had to do a lot of things just shy of actually fucking them. That considered, it makes sense that it would have started in the sex industry; a willing participant is better than one that fights in their eyes.”

               It was true that U4-1A, or Euphoria, made people feel euphoric and intensified the pleasure of touch. But from what you had heard from Amber and some of the other nurses, when the patients are under the influence of the powder, they beg anyone to do any kind of sexual act to help them chase the feeling. Whatever sick bastard who created it made it so the user couldn’t find relief on their own, either.  Another hospital had thought that if the patients were aroused that it should be enough to let them handle it on their own, since it seemed release was the way to increase the heart rate and move the substance through the system. But the first few patients were in distress for hours until their hearts gave out from the effects of the chemicals in their blood. Doctor Na had been trying to see if any kind of physical activity, outside of sexual, could be the key to rehabilitating the Euphoria addicts. But it hadn’t seemed to be working. With more cases rising, there didn’t seem to be a treatment unless you had only the smallest amount. And survivors from the withdrawal seemed to be just as slim. The patients went through intense fevers, tremors, breathing problems, and pain without the substance. One of Central’s patients didn’t last two days of withdrawals.

               “I’m telling you,” Amber went on, drawing you out of your thoughts, “I don’t care who or how many are rocking my world or how long since my last date. No orgasm is worth dying for.”

               You let out a small chuckle at her attempt to push away from a not-so-fun topic. You nodded your head in agreement, though you couldn’t really remember the last time you had experienced anything other than a kiss from your ex. You could feel Amber’s eyes on you as you shuffled through the rest of the files.

               “So, speaking of orgasms,” she segwayed, leaning over with an eyebrow arched, “since you seem to be ready to start making some changes in your life, when are we gonna get you out for a date night?”

               “I didn’t say I was ready for a relationship.”

               “Whoa, who said anything about a relationship? I’m just saying have some fun, get a dinner, meet someone and start getting more confident with yourself. I have some friends I could set you up with. All of them are sweet and know I would kill them if they tried anything.”

               You hadn’t really thought about dating or anything like that. You had been so focused on healing your mind and getting settled into a new routine that it hadn’t even crossed your mind. You want to tell her ‘No’ but you found yourself considering it. Maybe it would be a good idea to just try to hang out with someone other than Amber. “I don’t know…,” you mused.

               That was all Amber needed. “Let’s just imagine. What’s your type? I mean, besides the complete opposite of your ex.”

               “I don’t really think I have a type. I know that Daniel was my friend and we were always together, so I think that’s why we started dating. But I don’t think I have one other than being a nice guy.”

               “Okay, let’s think about this. How about my friend Bryce?” You made a face, remembering the one time you met Eric when Amber and you went shopping and he spilled his drink all over you. “Okay, maybe not. How about Lee or Michael?”

               “They’re nice, I think.”

               “Oh, what about Dean from the kitchen staff? He’s so hot!”

               “The guy with the guitar and the smooth voice? The one who flirts with everyone and shows off his tattoos? Yeah, he’s definitely hot. Maybe too hot for someone like me. I feel like you two would fit together better.”

               “Stop that, you are so cute. I’d date you. I’d even give you a kiss goodnight.” Amber moved in to kiss you on the cheek, only to find her rolling chair being pushed by your foot. “Fine, see if I kiss you ever again. How about Eric from the pediatric ward? I’ve seen you two talk and he’s really easy to be around. Ooh, or Chris? You know, the one with the cute accent and hot body to match? I think you two would be able to reach your own version of euphoria.”

               “Ok, I’m done with you. You are ridiculous. I have patients to get to. And, even if I didn’t, I would rather get hit on by Mr. Young than have you start talking about me and some random guy.”

               Amber busted out laughing as you grabbed some charts and all but ran from the desk. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep workshopping it. This is just the next project in the ‘make my precious friend feel normal’ plan.”

               Despite the way your day had begun, your shift was free of any real excitement. And to be honest, you were happy to have a normal shift. You handed out medicine when it was time, changed the dressing of a girl who had been in a car accident, and took the time to pop in on Mr. Young since he was so upset that you hadn’t been there that morning. You figured listening to the old man’s reveries from his youth was a good punishment for your tardiness. Though, as you sat there, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the blond man. You wondered if he was still in the O.R. or if he had been moved. Were his injuries as bad as you thought or worse? You wanted to go see if Doctor Na was out of surgery and if there was any news. Stop it, you scolded yourself, stop focusing so much on that. Just do your job. Stay calm. You pushed yourself to go through the motions of your job, putting your body on autopilot as you tried not to think about him anymore. For the most part, it seemed to work; every time you blinked, you were off to the next task. Even as Amber dragged you away for a quick lunch, you focused extra hard as your friend excitedly recounted her night of online gaming, and her ever continuing feud with Seagull-eye97. Based on the color in Amber’s cheeks as she complained about them snipping her during their last dual, it was a struggle.

               By the afternoon, you had enough distractions to not think too much about the blond stranger. Amber had found out that Dr. Na was no longer in the OR, and it seemed like everything was alright. You felt some relief from such small information. While the thought to check up on the stranger popped back into your mind, you decided to stick to your plan to let the universe decide if you were going to meet again.

               And the universe had it’s funny way of making that happen.

               You were back at the station helping one of the patients get discharged. She was a nice girl who had been in a car accident and was finally being released. You were printing out the doctor’s orders and getting her prescriptions in order when one of the girl’s friends, one you had seen during visiting hours often, came to take her home. As you handed the friend the paperwork, you noticed they had matching tattoos, a Roman numeral II, on different parts of their arms. They called them friendship tattoos and you thought that was cute. Though, you weren’t sure if you would get one with Amber anytime soon. Once the girls were gone, you sat back at the station to finish up your paperwork.

               A voice caught your attention and made you look up towards the hallway that led to the elevator. Doctor Henry Na stepped off with a few other nurses, talking quietly and laughing about something you couldn’t hear. You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at the sight of him. And not just because it further proved that he had finished up the surgery. Henry was someone you had come to be friendly with, like with Amber. He was one of the nicest people you had been introduced to and he made a point to see you on your shift. He was tall and broad, with a smile that was just as kind as his demeanor. He had shared many coffee breaks talking about things, getting your mind from whatever was making it panic, never making you feel like he was just going through the motions. You couldn’t help but feel a certain way whenever he was around, something you couldn’t remember feeling before. A feeling of safety and happiness. Amber’s conversation from earlier seemed to pop into your mind about your type of man. Based on the excited feeling that crept up into you, you couldn’t deny that you liked him. But so did everyone else in the hospital and he probably didn’t see you that way. He had glanced over towards the station and gave you a little wave as he finished his conversation. And that butterfly feeling intensified.

               “Why do you look like that?”

               Amber had the strangest ability of just appearing out of nowhere at the worst moment. You felt yourself jump and heat rise in your cheeks. You tried to hide yourself in your hands but Amber followed where you had been staring at. And a teasing smirk appeared as she put the pieces together.

               “I guess I figured out your type. Look at you going for the most eligible bachelor in this hospital. I like it;  skip the boy and go right for the man.”

               “You are so embarrassing! We’re friends. He’s just nice to me. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be with someone with such baggage.”

               “I don’t know. You should have seen the way he looked at you when you started blushing.”

               You went to shove her away as she started making kissy faces at you, when you noticed Na shaking hands with one of the nurses and starting towards the station. Your body acted on its own in an excited and nervous frenzy, as you reached into your pants pocket and pulled out a small bottle of body spray you had brought with you after changing and ducked down. You sprayed the lily scented water over yourself, trying to rid yourself of the sterile smell of your clothes. You froze when you felt Amber’s smug and judging glance. “What? I like to smell nice and I forgot to spray some this morning after I changed.”

               “Sure, honey. Hi, Henry,” she greeted and you sat straight up.

               “Hi Amber, Y/N,” he greeted back, his gaze fixed on you. “How are things going up here?”

               “Oh you know, same old stuff. Though, I think I left my pen somewhere. I should go find it. You two talk.” And she abandoned you, throwing you a thumbs up and some faces that you had to remember to beat her for.

               “Hi, Doctor Na,” you said, “did everything go ok this morning?”

               “I feel like I should be asking you that. I heard you ran into the building with an active shooter. That’s something I never thought I’d hear you doing.”

               “You and everyone else it would seem. I just wanted to help and let my body run on autopilot.”

               “Well, it was tough in there for a bit but, because of you, our John Doe is going to see another day. He’s responding well and I had him moved from post op. He lost a lot of blood and he’s gonna be in some pain for a bit. We have him on some pain medicine that’s going to have him out for a while. But he was responding to the outer stimulus. I think they’re moving him to the room at the end of the hall. Can you just promise me that you won’t worry me like that ever again? I don’t like the thought of someone as sweet as you doing something so dangerous. How are you feeling, honestly? Anxious at all? Anything you want to talk about? I haven’t had any luck identifying that prescription yet, and my friend in the pharmacy hasn’t gotten back to me yet. So, I just want to make sure you’re good.”

               He knew your anxiety had been active since you had come to him to try to find exactly what your medicine was. His calming eyes looked down at you with concern. “I’m alright,” you said, trying to control the color in your cheeks as you tried to maintain eye contact, “when I got here, I just jumped into work so I didn’t have time to think about anything else. I’m okay, thank you, Doctor Na.”

               “I thought we talked about you calling me Henry, remember? See that’s what I like about you, Y/N. You care so much about everyone else. You really are a good nurse. I just wish you’d do the same for yourself. I suppose I’ll have to make sure you’re really ok. How about we talk about it over dinner this week?”

               You’re sure you must have looked like a deer in the headlights. “What?”

               “Well, someone who risks their own safety to help others should get some kind of reward, shouldn’t they? Figured why not let me treat you for once. How about it? Maybe we can talk about other things, too. Not work related? Maybe get to know each other better?”

               You felt like the whole world had just turned upside down. Was the most handsome doctor who you had been friendly with over the last few months just asking you out? You, out of every other good-looking person in this hospital? Did he actually ask you out? The way he was looking at you, like he was nervous you’d say ‘no’, made it seem that way. He had been extra attentive recently. And Amber was always saying you were kind of oblivious when it came to flirting having not really experienced it. You, suddenly, found yourself too nervous to say anything, and nodded. His smile returned, all wide and excited, which made you shyly smile back.

               True to her fashion, Amber came slipping back into the conversation, which you were happy with, fearing you’d burn a hole in the ground with how hot your cheeks were. “Okay, you guys look far too cute over here. Time to get back to work. Did you have a reason for coming to our side of the floor, Henry, or are you just gonna make goo-goo eyes at everyone?”

               Henry cleared his throat, trying to hide his slight awkwardness. “I was telling Y/N that we moved that patient to this floor for recovery. He should be in the last room down that hall. And I was hoping she wouldn’t mind taking this to his room?” He placed a clear bag on the station. It had the patient’s personal effects in it. “I figured that since she was with him, he might be more comfortable with someone he recognizes.”        

               You nodded and took the bag from him. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you.”

               “I’d appreciate that. Umm… I’ll get back to my rounds now, before I’m banished by Amber here. I’ll talk to my friend about that prescription and see you later, Y/N.” He turned to leave with a little wave at you and Amber. Before he got too far, he turned over his shoulder. “Nice perfume, by the way, Y/N. It really suits you.”

               He made a quick exit as Amber made a funny noise and you were alone with her gaze on you and a smile on your face.

               “You two should really get a room. Like the one at your apartment or his. I can just imagine it.”

               “You are so awful. He just asked me to get dinner. It may not even be a date. He’s just being nice, I’m sure.”

               “Please, he wants to talk about non work related stuff. Plus, I saw the way he was looking at you. He thinks you’re cute. And you are still blushing. Trust me, I know.”

               ‘We’ll see about that.” You looked at the bag in front of you. It had ‘John Doe’ written on it. There was a wallet, cellphone, a watch, and a few pieces of jewelry. The EMT’s had cut his shirt open to get to his injuries, and you were sure the rest of his clothes were being held for the police, whenever they came to get evidence and statements. You thought it was odd you hadn’t seen any since you left the construction site. You opened the bag and pulled out the wallet, hoping to find some kind of name. The wallet was empty, save for a few dollars and a key card. You reached for his phone. It was dead. You reached into your desk and pulled out a spare cord and power bank. There had to be something on there to figure out who he was or get ahold of someone who did. You plugged it in and put it back in the bag. You pushed off from the desk and made for the room at the end of the hall.

               The room was dark when you entered, save for the dim light above the bed and the glow from the heart monitor. You pushed the privacy curtain aside, and were welcomed by the sight of the blond stranger that had occupied the edges of your mind. The bed made him seem so small and his pale skin made him appear so fragile. His eyes were closed, but the steady rise and fall of his chest gave you some relief. His hair was still damp from where the staff had rinsed the blood from his hair. There was a bandage near his hairline. The cuts on his face had been treated and the bruising was much more visible now. There was an oxygen cannula tube strapped across his face and nose. And you could just see the edge of bandages peeking out from under the patient’s uniform they had dressed him in. He looked awful but he was alive, and you were so relieved you thought you might cry.

               “So, this is the man you ran into gun fire for?” Amber followed you in with his chart in her hand. “I can understand why.”

               “I’m so happy he’s ok. He looked so bad when the ambulance came. I promised him he’d be ok, that I’d get him out.”

               Amber patted you on the shoulder, giving you a sympathetic smile. “He’s gonna be fine. Hopefully, he wakes up soon, then you can stop worrying so much. And we can get a real name for him. He doesn’t look like a John. We should give him a nickname. With hair like that, I’d rather call him ‘popstar’.”

               “I think his name is Agust. Someone kept saying they were looking for Agust. I assume that’s him.”

               “He looks more like an Agust than a John.” Amber took out her pen and started making some changes. “Agust Doe. No, that sounds weird. How about just Agust D? Sounds more like a pop star name doesn’t it?”

               You nodded your head; Agust D sounded better than a blank identity. Amber placed his file at the end of the bed, and patted your shoulder. You gave a reassuring smile before she decided to leave the room. And you were alone with the blond stranger, or Agust. You took a couple steps closer to the bed, worried that he might wake up. But he didn’t; he continued to sleep in the drug induced state. In this forced, relaxed form, you couldn’t deny he was more handsome than your initial thought at your first meeting. Leaning forward over his form, your fingers reached out to check the bandage near his hairline, moving some of the stray blond hairs aside. You had no doubt that the others had done an exceptional job, but an odd sense of protectiveness made you look at everything extra close. Must be because of what happened earlier, you had concluded. There was an IV bag hanging above the bed, along with a transfusion bag replacing what he had lost. Absentmindedly, your fingers had slowly moved across his hair and down to his cheek. You were glad that it wasn’t as cold and clammy as it had been.

               “See, I told you I was gonna get you out. Now, you need to make sure you get better soon so you tell me everything,” you said with a small smile. The boy in the bed inhaled deeply, before pressing his cheek further into your light touch. The sudden movement startled you. “Agust? Can you hear me?”

               But he was still again. And your question was overtaken by the soft beep of the instruments around him.

               Suddenly, a shrill ring exploded in the room, making you jump back away from the bed as if you had been shocked. You whirled round trying to find what was causing it. Your eyes caught the flash of light on the end table beside you. It was the cell phone. Had it turned on by itself once it had enough power? Odd as it was, someone was trying to get a hold of him and you knew you should make sure they came to be with him. Maybe they knew what he was doing at the construction site and who had attacked him. You reached into the bag and pulled the phone out. The screen was flashing with a contact name, ‘God of Destruction’, and with a notification that this number had called multiple times, as well as other numbers over the last few hours. You slid your fingers across the screen and brought the phone up to your ear.

               Before you could say anything, your ears were bombarded with multiple voices all speaking in a chaotic chorus. One voice, whomever had the phone, spoke loudly over the din. “Hyung! Finally, I was so scared. Where are you? Are you okay? Tell me what the bastard did and I’ll fuck him up so bad.”

Someone else had pulled the phone closer to them. “Hyung, I’m so sorry. We should have never split up..”

Another struggle for the phone and another voice that sounded older than the last rang in over the continuing strings of conversations they were all trying to have. “Yah! Where have you been?! What were you doing, getting a coffee instead of giving us some kind of sign that you were alive?! You prick!”

The first voice must have got the phone back, as his was the most dominant voice again. “Guys, shut up, I can’t hear anything. Hyung, say something. Where are you?”

“Hello,” you responded in a small voice.

The chaotic voices all stopped, and for a moment you were scared the call had dropped. The voice seemed to drop into a serious octave. “Who is this?”

“Umm… my name is Y/N. I’m a nurse at Central Mercy Hospital. We brought the owner of this phone here after he was involved in a shooting.”

“Is he okay?” It was a different voice, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He needed emergency surgery. But we have him stable now. But he’s gonna need someone here. Are you his family or someone who can get here?”

“You said Central Mercy? What level is he on now? Who’s the doctor who saw him?” You gave him what he had asked for. “Alright, listen to me very closely. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Stay calm but do exactly as I say and it’ll be okay. Do not let anyone enter that room but you or this Doctor Na until I get there, do you understand me?”

You felt a little annoyed that he was ordering you around, but there was something in his tone that gave you the sense that this was not a joke and something to take seriously. “And who are you.”

“Call me RM.” Then the line went dead.

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #yoongi x reader #bangtan boys #ot7 x reader #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungguk #amber liu #bangtan fanfic #bemylight #elphiej

[leossmoonn]

New Light

masterlist

pairing - kai parker x fem!human!reader

type - angst, fluff

note - so this is like sometime during season 6. im rewatching the series but i haven't got to season 6 yet (im rewatching it so when i write and include situations and plots from the show, i can be correct w the timeline lol.), so sorry if some of the info and timeline is incorrect. i did a little research to try and get the timeline right though. enjoy! oh! and also i made bonnie and enzo already get together since ik they get together in like season 8

summary - kai tries to make you fall for him

warnings - mild language, suggestive language, make out scene

————

*gif isn’t mine*

Kai watched you as you moved around the kitchen, making dinner for your friends and you. You were in the Salvatore Boarding House, the place you lived in after having your home destroyed by Klaus Mikaelson. The Salvatore brothers adopted you into their home. You had been friends with them for the past few years, so it wasn’t surprising you moved in. You already spent more than half your time here anyways. 

Tonight you were having a dinner party, planned by your friends and you to just relax and forget about every crazy thing that had and was happening in your life. Granted, something crazy was probably gonna happen, interrupting the relaxing night, but you held onto hope to have one normal night. Like how you used to before all the supernatural stuff.

One thing kept the hope from staying, though. It was Kai Parker. The insane witch who was ruining everything for you and your friends over the past few months. Stefan had decided to invite him over, make nice with him so you all would have him on your side. You sided with Stefan to not be in a fight with your best friend, but you deeply hated the thought of Kai sitting with you. Eating dinner, staring at you like a creepy stalker, probably plotting your death. Good thing was, though, Elena and Caroline were at the house, helping you. Everyone knew that if you were alone with Kai, you would probably kill him. Bonnie, sadly, was with Stefan and Damon, working out a plan to kill and/or get him back into the prison world. 

You were in the kitchen alone at the moment, Kai was sitting at the island table, staring at you. He had a smug look on his face, resting his chin on his palm and leaning on the counter. He never tore his eyes away from you. It made you want to gouge his eyes out. To try and ignore him, you put on music and focused on the dinner you were making. 

You sang the lyrics to ‘Since U Been Gone’ by Kelly Clarkson quietly. You moved your body to the beat, chopping up onions. 

“You have a beautiful singing voice,” Kai said. 

You rolled your eyes, huffing and ignoring him. 

“You know, I can sing, too. I used to love singing in the car with my family,” Kai said. 

“Before you slaughtered them?” You remarked. 

Kai frowned at you, pain shooting through his heart. You continued making steak, turning on the stove and letting it heat up. Elena and Caroline finally came back into the kitchen with ice cream and alcohol. You snatched the bourbon from Caroline’s hand, getting out a cup and pouring yourself a drink. 

“Can I have some?” Kai asked.

You nodded, not looking at him. You poured him a glass, walking over and setting it in front of him. His hand reached out to grab the glass, making contact with your hand. His fingers brushed against yours. You felt your skin tingle and goosebumps arose on your arm. Kai noticed and smirked. 

“Cold?” He asked. 

You glared at him and pulled back your arm immediately. “No.”

Kai chuckled, knowing you lied. He could sense you had feelings for him, even if you never would admit it. He just needed to make you see him differently so those feelings would surface. 

You went back to ignoring him, which only fueld his pining for you more. 

Elena and Caroline went over to you with the steaks.

“You know, Mr. Socio is in love with you,” Caroline said. 

“He's not in love with me. He just likes to chase people and get them comfortable, then hurt them. Since I’m the only one not with a boy who can protect me, with you having Stefan and Damon, Caroline having Tyler and Klaus at her beckoning call, and Bonnie having Enzo, he has chosen me to haunt and stalk,” you said.

Elena looked back at Kai, who was looking at you still. Elena turned her attention towards you, again. 

“I hate Kai as much as the next person, but he really looks like he has actual feelings for you. You should give him a chance.”

You scoffed, not believing what you were hearing. “Did you forget that he almost killed Bonnie and your beloved Damon to the prison world? He slaughtered his siblings and father without any remorse. Not to mention, he's an annoying prick.”

Elena laughed, “I used to think about that with Damon. But look at me now, I’m in love with him.”

“Yeah, but Damon isn’t a bad person, he just does bad things. Plus, I have seen the way he looks at you and treats you, he is every girl’s dream. Not to mention, he’s a pretty attractive guy. Kai isn’t like that. I mean, yeah, he’s hot, but he’s not the type of person I, or anyone, would want to date,” you explained and took a sip of bourbon.

Caroline smirked, “So, you are attracted to him.”

“No. You can say someone is attractive but not have any romantic feelings,” you shrugged.

In your mind, though, a little voice in your head told you that you did have feelings for him. You ignored the voice, not wanting to try and battle with your feelings. 

“Sure, Y/n. The more you deny it, the worse your feelings will get,” Elena teased. 

You rolled your eyes, flipping the steaks. Oil popped off the pan and hit your wrist. You squealed in pain, holding your wrist. 

Elena hurriedly got you a cold washcloth and pressed it on your wrist. 

“Thanks, El,” you smiled. “Mind taking care of the steaks? I have to keep a cold compress for a little.”

“Not at all. Care, can you get the sundae bar ready?” Elena asked, taking the tongs you used to turn the steak over. Caroline nodded, going over to the cabinets to get ice cream toppings out. 

You went over to the living room, slumping on the couch and grabbing the remote. You turned on ‘Gilmore Girls’. You kept the cold compress on your wrist. 

You felt the couch sink on your left. You didn't bother to look over, already knowing who it was. You two didn’t even sit in silence for 10 seconds before Kai started talking. 

“Rory and Jess should’ve stayed together. Dean’s too soft,” Kai commented while watching the tv. 

“Jess is bad for her. He's smart, but he still has no future. Dean really loves Rory and she threw that away,” you argued.

“True, but Jess loves her, too, just in a different way. Dean is so mellow. Jess is fun, exciting, dangerous. Kind of like Damon. That’s why Elena chose Damon instead of Stefan, right? Because he made her feel things that Stefan could never make her feel, which she liked better,” Kai stated. 

You glared at him. “She didn’t choose him just because of that.”

“No, she chose him because of that. You choose someone because the way they make you feel, that's how love works,” Kai said, turning his attention towards you. 

You felt his burning stare. You decided to turn to him, looking into his dark blue eyes. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sighed. 

Kai smiled. His smile made you feel giddy and warm inside. You pushed those feelings away, piling more denial and hate in your mind towards him. 

“You have those feelings towards me, too,” Kai smirked. 

You peeled your eyes away from him, ignoring him once again. 

“Don’t deny it, Y/n. I can see it on your face. I can feel it,” Kai teased, scooting closer.

“Kai, stop,” you muttered. 

He got so close to you, you felt his breath on your cheek. Your heart rate picked up and you found it hot and hard to breathe. Heat went down south between your thighs and goosebumps formed on your neck. 

“You like me, Y/n. I can hear you breathing heavy and you heart beating fast. I can smell your arousal between your legs,” Kai said, putting his hand on yours.

You pulled your hand away. “I said cut the shit, Kai. You’re making me uncomfortable,” you lied. 

Kai’s eyes softened and he moved away immediately. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“You just what, Kai? Think you can use your witchy powers with me to make me fall in love with you? News flash, psycho, I’m not dumb,” you scoffed and stood up.

“I didn’t try to use my powers, I swear. But I can use my powers to heal your burn,” Kai suggested. 

“No, I don’t want your help,” you shook your head. 

“Get off your high horse and let me help you, Y/n. That burn will take a few days to heal and it'll hurt when you shower or brush something against it. Please, Y/n, I want to help you,” Kai pleaded. 

You looked at him. His eyes showed honesty. You sighed in defeat and sat back down on the couch. You moved close to him, your thighs touching. Kai took the cloth off of your burn and held your arm gently. The same, lovey-dovey feelings came back. This time, you didn't fight it as hard, letting yourself enjoy not having to keep up your walls.

“I’m so mean to you, why are you helping me?” You asked. 

“Because I like and care about you. I don’t like seeing the people I care about hurt,” he answered.

He put his free hand over your burn. The burn disappeared by skin forming over it. 

“Really? If you cared about me, you’d leave me alone,” you chuckled. 

“I can’t when I gotta get on your good side. With you and your friends plotting my death, I need an ally,” Kai said. 

Your distaste for him surfaced again. You pulled your hand away once the burn was healed. 

“That’s why I hate you. See, you don’t actually care about me. I knew it. Don’t sit or talk to me during dinner,” you spat and strutted over to the kitchen. 

Dinner was ready, thank the heavens. Damon, Stefan, and Bonnie came into the house on cue. 

“Bon!” You exclaimed, running over and hugging her. 

“Hey! Dinner smells good,” Bonnie smiled and hugged you back. You pulled away and laughed, “Elena and Caroline made it. I got burned.”

“You okay? I can heal you,” Bonnie said. 

“No, uh, Kai healed me already,” you said sheepishly. 

“You let that lunatic touch you?” Damon asked. 

“He was there and asked. He was being nice, but then he turned into a dick again,” you explained. 

“Well, at least you’re not still hurt. C’mon, let’s go and eat. I'm starving,” Stefan said. 

You all went to the kitchen, seeing the meal Elena and Caroline prepared set out on the table. 

“Hey, babe,” Damon smiled and went over to Elena. He put his arm around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

You looked at them longingly. You wanted what they had. So in love, nothing else mattering in the world but each other. You sat down in between Stefan and Caroline. You cut a piece of steak for yourself and got some mashed potatoes and green beans. 

“This is so good, guys. Thanks for inviting me over,” Kai said with a mouthful of steak and mashed potatoes. 

“Our pleasure. Mind eating with a closed mouth?” Stefan remarked. 

You chuckled at Stefan’s comment while Kai frowned. 

“So, what were you three doing while us four were here?” Kai said, gesturing to Damon, Stefan, and Bonnie with his fork. 

“None of your business,” Bonnie said. 

“Aw, c’mon. We’re friends now,” Kai teased. 

“You’ll find out soon,” Damon smiled at him. 

Kai frowned again and ate his food in silence. 

“Do you guys want some blood to go with your wine?” Caroline asked. 

“Yes!” Damon smiled. Caroline got up to get a few blood bags. 

All of you except Kai made conversation. While you were talking and laughing, Kai looked at you. He knew his comment earlier got you two on the wrong foot again. He racked his brain with ways he could get on your good side, get you to agree with going on a date with him. He likes you, he really does, he just doesn’t know how to show those feelings without getting rude and angry. He was willing to try for you, though. After a few hours of talking with everyone, people started to excuse themselves to leave. 

“I’ll see you later, Bon and Care,” you smiled and hugged your two best friends.

“See you! Have fun with Kai, I think he plans on staying,” Caroline smiled.

“I actually am going to leave, too,” Kai butted into your conversation. 

Your heart sank slightly. Since calming down from being angry, your attitude towards him softened. In the back of your mind, you didn’t want him to leave. You wanted him to stay, to pester you, to talk to him, to sit down and have him make you feel the way you did on the couch. You wanted to sit down and enjoy his company. But on the surface, you couldn’t care less. 

“But, I want to talk to Y/n before I leave,” Kai said. 

Bonnie and Caroline looked between you two quizzically. They smiled and let you two be alone in the kitchen. 

You walked to the liquor cabinet, grabbing two glasses and vodka. Kai followed you and sat down in his seat at the island table. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You asked as you poured him a glass of vodka. You grabbed your glass and went to sit next to him. 

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he said and looked into your eyes. He took the glass without tearing his eyes away from you. 

“You apologizing? Who has you possessed,” you laughed looked around jokingly. 

Kai smiled with you as you brought your attention back on him. 

“No, this is just me. I know what I said earlier about just wanting you as an ally was wrong. I mean, yes, I want you as an ally, I want all of you as an ally, but I still like you. A lot. And I care about you a lot, too,” Kai spoke. 

You took a sip of vodka, sighing. “I accept and appreciate your apology, Kai. But, I don’t like you, not like that anyways, I-”

Kai interrupted you by taking your hand in his. “Y/n, I know I pushed earlier and made you uncomfortable, and I apologize for that, too, but I know that's not true. The look in your eyes when you look at me when you let your guard down is not a look regular friends give each other.”

Your eyes focused on his hand on yours for a few minutes, and looked back up to his face. Butterflies filled your stomach again and his words tugged at your heart strings. Your walls started to come down and as hard as you fought to keep them up, you couldn’t. Kai was getting to you and deep down, you knew he was right. That you cared for him the same way he cared about you. 

But then you remembered that he was the enemy. He took your best friend away from you, wrecked havoc on this town, and killed his parent in cold blood. You couldn’t take the chance of getting hurt. So, you pulled your hand away slowly from his, standing up and downing the rest of your drink. 

“I admit, I may have some feelings for you. Deep down inside, but I can’t take the chance, Kai. I’m sorry. Thank you for apologizing and not ruining dinner. I’ll see you later,” you gave him an apology of your own. 

You started to walk away, but Kai put his hand on your arm. He spun you around and your lips met his. Your eyes widened as Kai kissed you. You tried to fight back from not kissing him, but as his arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you in, you melted against him and kissed him back. 

As your lips moved with his for the first few moments, you closed your eyes and  behind your eyelids, your brain exploded. You could see colors as your lips moved with his, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His lips tasted like vodka and chocolate ice cream. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his hair. His tongue swiped on the bottom of your lip and you opened your mouth. Your tongues met and you moaned softly in his mouth, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

You pulled away, needing air. Kai opened his eyes, a big, content smile resting on his lips. 

“And friends don’t kiss friends like that. So please, give me a chance. Let me show you I’m different than what you think. Let me show you me in a new light. I can change for you. I want to change. Don’t deny what we have, Y/n.”

You stared into his eyes, knowing you couldn’t deny your feelings any longer. You gave him a small, sweet smile and nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll give you a chance. Prove me wrong, Parker.”

Kai took his hands off your waist, first pumping the air. “I will, I promise.”

————

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[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 4:

Gif credit @84hotpockets

Warnings: More mentions of stalking, mutual pining, some *close quarter tension*, little angst.

Word Count: 2,865

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“Rummaging in our souls, we often dig up something that ought to have lain there unnoticed. ” - Leo Tolstoy

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Your breaths come sharp and short, sweat dripping from your forehead as you bounce on the balls of your feet slightly,  lungs burning as you throw punches at the boxing pads that Agent Hotchner holds out in front of you. You throw your weight into every punch, hitting out the aggression and anger at the unknown shadowy figure your mind had conjured up. The person who was trying to take your life away. The gym smells like old rubber and sweat as Hotch calls out combination numbers over the flat snapping sound of your gloves hitting the pads. His head is down and his eyes are laser focused on you, following your every move. You throw a punch on his left hand as his right comes up and taps you on your face. You groan in frustration. 

“Come on, we’ve been through this!” He repeats. “Don’t get too into your head. Block.” He brings his own hand up to demonstrate, his thick arms flexing under his t-shirt. “When you’re throwing your jabs, make sure your other hand’s by your face, nice and high, okay?” He places his hand about level with his cheek as he shifts his feet, throwing jabs at the air. You can’t even pretend anymore, watching him punch and flex makes your breath hitch and your thighs squeeze . God, you felt so naive. Stupid even. The situation is quite literally life or death and he’s teaching you to defend yourself against your stalker and instead of focusing, you’re imagining how strong he really is. 

“Got it?” He snaps you out of your stupor. You nod. “Okay, try again. Remember, the key is to block.” You nod again, and meet his pads faster and more accurately this time, blocking his attempts to get at your face. He laughs approvingly, a grin on his face. “Alright, that’s more like it! Good girl.” Your heart rate increases at that, warmth pooling, the words of praise coming from his mouth unleashing butterflies in your stomach. 

Good girl? 

The momentary lapse in concentration has his pad make contact with your face as you grunt. He shoots you a bewildered and slightly disappointed look. “Okay, tell me what went wrong there, because you were doing good.” He demands. You can feel heat rising up your neck and chest while you try to play it off. Authoritative Agent Hotchner is an Agent Hotchner you hadn’t had the pleasure of witnessing until today, and you think that maybe you’d want him to stick around a little longer. Maybe even push his buttons to see how far you could take it. Maybe hear him shout orders at you and lavish you with praise. 

He whistles. “Hey. Over here.” He claps the pads together as he narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head. You blink at him as he undoes the straps on the bottom and throws them aside, striding over to you. His shorts ride up just slightly, exposing his flexing quads as he stalks towards you. 

Oh, he’s solid.

He corners you against the ropes of the ring as he asks you again, his eyes burning into yours. “What. do you. think. went. wrong?” You blink up at him, words not coming easy now that you felt so exposed. He swallows thickly, exhaling hard through his nose. He turns to stand in the middle of the ring. 

“C’mere.” He beckons you forward with his fingers. 

Okay. 

You stomp your leg slightly, rolling your eyes. “Why? I wanna be done now, what, we haven’t done enough?” His jaw ticks and his nostrils flare. He takes another harsh breath through his nose to steady himself, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your rising chest in your sports bra. 

“I’m not going to ask you again. Come here.” 

That’ll do it. 

“Yes, sir.” You concede sarcastically. You kiss your teeth and sigh, making your way over to him, watching as you swear he blushes slightly. He adjusts the waistband on his shorts as you come close. 

Oh.

He clears his throat. “Remember the hand to hand stuff we went through? Again.” He throws a couple of jabs towards you, travelling in a loose circle and you block them with your forearm just as quickly as they come. 

He makes a point to get you comfortable, until he throws a hook which you swat downwards and try to twist his arm. You try to throw a hook of your own but you’re too slow. He ducks and wraps his arm around your waist, his other hand catching your fist and crossing it across your chest, allowing your weight to fall back on him as he carries you backwards a couple of steps. 

You curse in frustration, wincing slightly as you feel a stitch coming. His breath is soft on your neck, cooling against the sweat. You’re hyper aware of his bare arm around your exposed stomach, the other holding your arm across your chest. The length of his body presses snugly against you as your breathing falls into a rhythm, his thumb rubbing small circles on your stomach. 

“Hotchner!” You jump as the voice shouts from the hallway. You separate quickly, stretching out your neck as footsteps approach, McCall emerging from the dimly lit hallway. He’s in his work clothes and he looks agitated, his eyebrows pulled tight into a frown, mindless repetitive glances at his watch. “There you are.” He breathes out. “I’ve been lookin’ all over for you. A word?” 

Hotch takes a cursory look back at you as you try to busy yourself with stretches, anything to not make eye contact. He steps out of the ring from under the ropes and while your ears are keenly trained on their conversation, you can’t quite make out anything they say, their voices hushed and intense. You figure you’re probably done for the day anyway and make a start on removing your gloves and tape. 

You squeeze yourself past Agents Hotchner and McCall to get to the showers, offering a tight smile as you do, feet fast on the worn Lino floor. You step into the changing rooms but leave the door open just enough to eavesdrop. You curse yourself mentally for developing such a horrible habit, your grandmother’s voice in your head lecturing you on the evils of listening in to conversations which aren’t meant for you. 

Still. 

“What, and it mentioned me by name? How the-“ Hotch asks, his volume increasing. 

Agent McCall shushes him. 

“How the hell does he know my name? And how did it even get through? They didn’t see anything?” He hisses.

Your eyes widen. Another note? Your stomach starts to churn. Truth is, yes it had been your idea to move back and make yourself vulnerable, and yes you had felt independent and empowered when suggesting it. But the more time went on, the more you felt like a sitting duck, unable to escape the shadowy hands closing in around your neck. 

Metro PD really needed to get better at talking quietly. You’d heard some officers outside your door a few days ago talking about how the FBI preliminary profile speculated that this guy was an obsessive, delusional stalker who’d likely kill himself, you and anybody else in his way, rather than let you go. Since then, those voices had played like echos throughout random points in the day, a sharp pang and your stomach would drop when you’d remember. The back of your neck would burn and you’d feel like your knees could give out. 

How many people were you putting in danger because you didn’t want to compromise your freedom? Was your father right? Would they all be better off? Agent Hotchner had been on his list since the day you moved in, and now the psycho knew his name. You’d heard them, he’s never going to let you go, and now you’re a pawn, waiting to draw him out, unsure of whether they’ll even be able to stop him once he gets too close. 

Your vision tunnels. 

“He didn’t drop it off directly this time.” Agent McCall tells Hotch. “An Officer Mullbeck collected the mail from the mailroom to bring up but he didn’t do a sweep. I did when I arrived and found it lying inside a magazine.” 

“So, what? He’s doing counter-surveillance now? Knows we’ve got guys posted outside?” 

“Probably. I got a call that said they got a tiny bit of his face on camera, I’m on my way to the tech guy to figure out what they can get, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s good. Knows where the cameras are.” 

You chew the inside of your cheek, your breathing shallow so as to not alert them that you’re listening in. Your heart races at the thought of this person, this animal just lurking in the shadows, nameless, faceless, ready to take you down with him. 

McCall tells Hotch not to get too worked up and to just stick to routine while they work out a solid profile. 

“Alright, but what do I tell her? She acts like she’s fine but I know she’s scared, anybody would be in this situation. Do I tell her about this note?” He asks. Your face softens a little at the concern in his voice, a small smile tugging at your mouth as you lean against the door. 

Footsteps approach the changing room, you gently and quickly allow the weight of the door to fall almost all the way, allowing the last few centimetres to close slowly. 

You hear a knock at the door. Hotch clears his voice as he shouts from the other end. “15 minutes! We gotta get to the gun range. I’ll wait out here.” 

———

The air feels heavy in the Suburban, a lot on both of your minds but the unspoken words hang like smog in the SUV. He doesn’t know you heard him, but you did anyway - and the implications of what you heard - it would take some reconciling. 

You glance at Hotch out of the corner of your eye, for the hundredth time since you got in the car, his right hand firm on the wheel, his left elbow perched on the window, index finger rubbing his lips. His frown is perpetual at this point, jaw tensing and relaxing. You can’t find the words. 

“I can feel you looking at me.” He mutters matter-of-factly. “If you have something you wanna say, say it.” His eyes don’t leave the road. You feel heat rise in your face, embarrassed at your incredibly indiscreet attempt to gauge him. You come to a rolling stop in traffic as you turn slightly in the car seat. 

His eyes are still trained on the road in front, an obvious attempt to avoid eye contact as there’s not much to look at other than the numerous lanes of standstill traffic. He extends his hand across the console and turns the heat up, hot air blowing your hair back.

“Well I-” You exhale sharply. Your brain feels foggy and jumbled as you try to the find the words to not make it seem like you’re insane for listening in to his conversation. You click your knuckles to try and centre yourself, a calming habit you’d had since childhood - unsurprisingly abhorrent to your grandmother. 

You take a deep breath. “Well you haven’t said two words to me since we left the gym.” Not since Agent McCall came to see you. Plus, your jaw’s been tensing for about 20 minutes, you’ve been picking at your lips and you’re refusing to make eye contact.” You rush out, in a single breath, your voice an octave higher than usual. His eyes narrow, but he still won’t look at you, his arms moving from the steering wheel to the wing mirror, pretending to adjust it. He sniffs nonchalantly. “The real question is, what are you not telling me?” You continue. 

You feel genuinely worked up now, realising that you’re giving him an out and if he doesn’t take it now, he’d be withholding key information about your case. You prod his bicep with your finger. “I’m talking to you.” You remark. 

His jaw ticks. He finally puts the car in park, conceding to the idea that you’re going to be in traffic for a long while, and there’s nowhere and no way to escape. He still refuses to look at you, pretend squinting at the road ahead as he lets out a short laugh and you feel a strange pinch of guilt in your chest. 

That’s not fair. It was his name on the new note, and you’d heard what he’d said back in the gym. He was worried about you. Not himself. You. “I thought I was supposed to be the profiler.” He finally mutters with a dry laugh.

He puts the car in drive as a green light shows, the car dead silent the rest of the way and through the parking lot as he pulls up. You don’t want to push it-

No. You deserve to hear it from him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek again, the tension inside the car making it hard to breathe. “Hotch. Hey.” Your voice is soft. You duck your head to try and seek out his eyes. “Hey, c’mon, Hotch. Look at me. What is it?” You ask earnestly. 

He shrugs it off. “It’s nothing.” He finally turns his head to glance at you, but you refuse to take your eyes off his. You stay like that a moment, fighting for him to just tell you. 

He finally takes a deep breath and diverts his eyes. He swallows thickly before he clears his throat. “I-“ he shakes his head. “It’s nothing, really. I just don’t want you to panic.” You nod for him to continue. “McCall told me another note came today. But it was addressed to me.” He gauges your expression before he continues. “But it’s okay, I promise. He said they got a shot of him in the mailroom, McCall’s on his way to HQ now.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that he’s getting sloppy, and he’s making mistakes. It means we’re close.” He explains. 

“But what does that mean for you?” You whisper. 

“It means that the plan is working. He’s getting jealous, thinks I’m gonna take you away, and the more riled up he gets, the more likely it is he’ll make a mistake.” He reassures you, his eyes burning into yours.  

“Take me away?” You chuckle.

“He thinks we’re a uh-” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, averting his gaze. You notice he does that when he’s flustered, small smile tugging at his lips, his dimples peeking through his beard. “-Well, he thinks we’re together.” His voice drops an octave. He clears his throat as he continues. “The whole point of me being assigned to you was that it would be believable, that we would be able to pass as a couple.” He stutters over his words a little, and you can’t help but return his small grin. It’s endearing. 

His own heart sinks a little at that thought, guilt creeping in. He can’t help but reach out and grab your hand, to make sure you know he’ll do everything in his power to get this guy. Wants to somehow, some way put a smile on your face, hear your laugh, take all your worries away. Hates it when your eyes well up and you swallow your tears. Hates even more, the fact that he feels like this, feels like he needs to control what he says and does around you, knowing that the thoughts he has are dangerously close to becoming the words he truly wants to say, right on the tip of his tongue. All while his high-school sweetheart probably sits at home wondering if he’ll even make it home, worried sick about his safety, hoping that he’s okay. Hates that he’s even conflicted, that it’s even a thought in his mind. 

Yet his hand still finds yours, large and rough, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles, anything to be close to you. He continues, “But look, don’t worry about anything else other than narrowing down a list of suspects for us and we’ll take care of the rest, okay? I got you.”

Yeah. He does, he thinks.

Yeah. He does, you think.

You know It’s to catch this person, this monster, hellbent on ruining your life and you don’t doubt that Hotch would do everything in his power to make sure you were okay. You were his assignment. You know he’s ambitious. You know he wants to rise through the ranks. You know it’s his job but you can’t help but think, anyway. And your heart stupidly sinks every time. 

What kind of couple do you two make when the guy gets to go home to his girlfriend every night and you’re left thinking about what could’ve been?

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[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

The In-Between

I have become enamored with the time in between-- after they drove off into the sunset in 15x19, but before they awoke in the bunker at the start of 15x20; because there were some days there, and in those days, something changed in Dean. So it got me thinking ... what if ...

“Finally free.”

Dean had said the words— and he had meant them, but they didn’t bring the joy he thought they would. They didn’t leave him feeling as free as he wanted to be; because for the last ten years, he never dreamed of a freedom without Castiel.

It was supposed to be him, Sammy and Cas in the end.

They were Team Free-Will.

The three of them.

But now, it’s just him and Sam and a whole world that looks all too much the same for all they’ve lost... for what’s been sacrificed to save it.

Dean presses the gas pedal, and Baby roars down the road, eating up the miles like the beautiful monster she is. He looks over, and Sam is smiling, but there’s an emptiness to it—and Dean knows that his baby brother is hurting too. He still hasn’t heard from Eileen, so he still doesn’t know if Jack brought her back with everyone else; or … if he just took her to Heaven because, she technically should have been there all along.

And it seems like some kind of sick joke. Some punchline Chuck had built into the universe, and Dean and Sam were always destined to be the ones getting punched.

They were free, yes; but they aren’t happy.

The Winchesters saved the world but they lost so much more.

 They stop for gas somewhere outside of Sante Fe, where the fields stretch out forever and Dean thinks that if he just tracks the horizon long enough with his eyes, he can maybe fall right off the edge of the earth.

The pump clicks, and he caps Baby back up, giving her a pat on the trunk—knowing that both her and Sam would suffer if he was gone, so he blinks goodbye to the sun’s bed and climbs back behind the wheel, ready to continue on to nowhere, or somewhere. Right now, they’re just driving because they can and not because they have something to kill or someone to save, and that’s perhaps the nicest part about their new life so far.

“Holy crap” Sam says, looking wide eyed out the windshield.

“What?” Dean asks, following his brother’s gaze through the glass and out to the gravel driveway of the station.

And there, all shaggy and panting—is Miracle.

“No way!” Dean gasps, immediately jumping out of the car again to crouch and side step towards the mangy dog as quick as he can. “Hey—hey, boy! Is that really you?” He says, laughing and smiling, and the dog wags his tail a little, sitting still as Dean kneels down in front of him. “I thought we lost you, buddy” Dean says, looking into those brown eyes as they look into his. “I thought we lost you like we lost—” he starts to choke up, “like … we lost …” he leans over and pats Miracle on the head, “like I lost—” he bends down and hugs the dog close, crying into his fur; and Miracle whines, scoots in closer, nestles his chin onto Dean’s shoulder—and let’s the man hold him as he completely breaks.

“Dean …” Sam says softly, touching Dean’s arm as he squats beside his older brother and the dog. “C’mon … I’ll drive.”

Deans nods, wiping at his eyes before he stands back up, picking up Miracle with him and carrying him to the car. “We’re going home, buddy” he whispers, kissing the top of the dog’s head, breathing him in, breathing in the life of him, clutching his fur and losing himself in the solidity of him.

The dog is here, he is present.

He’s come back to Dean.

Some things can come back.

 Miracle settles quickly, and Dean settles into having something to take care of, because Sam is too grown and too stubborn to let Dean take care of him anymore; and lord know—Dean won’t take care of himself, so the dog will have to do.

Plus, he’s cute … and he follows Dean everywhere, and when he’s confused, he tilts his head to the side … just like —

Dean cries in the shower, knowing it’s the only place where he won’t be heard.

He cries with the memories, wishing that he could make them stop—stop the silence of them.

The loud memories— the memories where Billie is still banging on the door in his mind, the memories where he’s still begging Castiel not to go, not to do this, and even the memories of the Empty ripping through that wall, he’d take every one of those as trade over the gut-wrenching silence that followed.

The loneliness that followed.

The dog that follows him around like a four-legged cork in the powder keg that he’s become.

Dean cries as the shower’s hot water runs out; but when he turns it off—he knows he’s still not out of tears. He will just have to turn those off too, because he can be heard now.

The sun passes overheard without him knowing, and it’s not until Sam says he’s going to bed that Dean realizes how late it’s gotten. He’s just been sitting here, cleaning his weapons over and over again, trying to wash away even the smallest molecule of blood, because it was something to do. Something he could do without thinking; because thinking is more dangerous than any gun in his hand.

Miracle follows him into his room and curls up onto the pile of old blankets that Dean put down for him.

Dean shuts the door, locks it, and then looks around—noting the mess, noting the disarray. He never used to let his room get like this, but he can’t bare to move anything now, because it all is as it was when Cas was alive.

He might’ve touched something in here.

He might have left a small trace of himself on a book, or on one of Dean’s shirts, and if Dean can just hold in it in the right way, maybe, just maybe—he’ll unlock a memory, something he’s forgotten that won’t make the angel feel so far off, so permanently gone.

But—he knows that’s not how these things work. He’s lost enough people in his life to understand … that’s not how any of this works; yet, the books stay half open on the table. The clothes stay piled on the chair.

And Dean stays, buried alive in the middle of his mess of hope and discarded despair.

 He sits down at his desk to finish the paperwork he got from the auto shop in town. They were looking for a part-time mechanic, and Dean was inside the manager’s office and shaking the man’s hand before he even knew what he was doing.

He just needed something, anything that didn’t remind him of the hell he’s been living in all his life, and a normal 9-5 job seemed just crazy enough to work.

Dean’s eyes scan down the page—social security number, birthday, last employer … and he doesn’t know what to write. He doesn’t know if he can even put down the truth anymore. The world might still think Dean Winchester is dead, or a mass-murder, or a psycho or whatever.

Can he even be himself anymore?

Was he ever himself to begin with?

“Just be honest, Dean.”

Dean lifts his head slow but turns quick, looking up at Castiel as he smiles down at him. “Cas?”

The angel’s smile brightens. “More or less.”

Dean’s heart stops. “Wh-what does that mean?” He stands up from his chair cautiously, and he begins to notice how the light from the lamp in the corner of the room is shining through Castiel’s skin, as if he’s not fully whole … as if he’s not fully here. “Am … am I dreaming?” Dean asks, breathless, already starting to cry, because it doesn’t even matter what the answer is, he’s just so happy to see his friend again.

“That is how you’ll remember this, yes. However, Jack has assured me that you’ll know this was real.” Castiel looks down at Miracle, sleeping by his feet. “I see you’ve adopted a dog. That’s good. I always felt this place was one species short.”

Dean’s breaks into a teary laugh, reaching out to hug Castiel—and to his surprise, he can. He holds him. He holds him tighter than he’s ever held anyone, and shuts his eyes tight, wanting to put all of this away in his mind, every inch of feeling, every breath, every smell, every single second that passes so that when he wakes up and Castiel is gone again, he’ll remember.

He needs to remember.

Castiel’s arms come up to hug Dean back, and they stay there for as long as Dean stays—and it feels like hours before they finally pull apart again.

“How are you here?” Dean asks, shaky and quiet, once he can no longer simply stare at his friend in silence anymore.

“Jack” Castiel says, and Dean raises his eyebrows—gesturing for Cas to elaborate. The angel smiles, and he looks over Dean’s face the way he always used to, only, now … Dean knows exactly what that look means. “Jack saved me from the Empty and he brought me to heaven; however, my vessel … it was lost when the Empty took me. So, Jack fashioned this body; but since it was never of the earth, it cannot stand upon it and be known.”

Dean furrows his brow, opening his mouth to say something—closing it again once he realizes...he has no clue what he could say to that.

Castiel’s smile softens. “I wanted to come back to you, Dean … but I wanted to come back as myself. The me that you’ve always known, because you—you knowing me, that’s the only way I discovered who I truly was.”

“So … why didn’t you? Why didn’t you come back?”

“Like I said before, Dean … my vessel was destroyed, and Jack couldn’t recreate it exactly, not without disrupting the forces of nature. This was the best he could do, therefore … this dream is the best I can do at reaching out to you again. I am here, although—not really. I am solid, although, not really. I am as present as you wish me to be, and the very fact that we can touch …” Castiel reaches out and touches Dean’s hand, closing his eyes a moment as he loses himself in the feel of it, “means that you have been wishing for this almost as much as I have.”

Dean laughs in spite of the new wave of tears that has washed over him. “Almost?”

Castiel’s face sterns. “I’m in love with you, Dean. Obviously, my feelings are stronger.”

“Cas …” Dean scoffs, stepping closer to hold the angel’s hand fully, “if you can live for thousands of years—”

“Millions” Cas corrects.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Whatever. If you can live for millions of years, die a dozen times, become a God, become human, become—whatever the hell else you’ve morphed into, if you can still do all that, see all that … know as much as you know, but still not know how I feel about you standing in front of me right here, right now, then—I hate it break it to you, buddy … but you don’t know half as much as you think you do.”

“Dean, what are you—”

Dean shuts him up the only way he knows how … or more, the only way he wants to.

Miracle’s head perks up as the two beings kiss above him.

And they kiss, and they kiss—and they hold each other until the sun laps the world again and begins to breach the other ends of those fields; but Dean no longer wants to fall off their edge. He just wants to stay in his room, stuck between his two miracles, holding onto this happiness, holding on to this life.

“I want you to be happy, Dean” Castiel whispers, face buried into the collar of Dean’s shirt.

“Then stay” Dean says back, breathing in the smell of the angel’s hair – and it smells like clouds. He knows that’s the smell, even though he’s never been high enough to experience it.

“Dean …” Castiel pulls away again. “I need to go soon. I need to go back to Heaven—I need to go back to Jack and the other angels; and I need you to live your life. Start that job, start a family of your own, and be happy … your happiness is what I died for.”

“No” Dean is shaking his head hard, gripping onto the angel’s side and digging in his nails. “No, you couldn’t have died for that … because the second you were gone,my happiness was gone too. Don’t you get it, man? I’m no good without you.”

“You’re everything good, Dean. When will you learn that?”

“Cas, stop —  I’m saying that I don’t want to do this without you!”

“Dean” Castiel whispers, kissing Dean’s red, wet eyes, “you will never be without me. That’s what my being here is supposed to prove to you. As long as you exist … wherever you exist, I will be right there with you.”

Dean nods against Castiel’s cheek, pulling him closer, holding on for dear life, because it is dear … he sees that now. He knows it to be true. “You promise?”

“Of course, Dean.”

“But ... when will I be able to see you again?”

Castiel kisses his temple, his lips, blessing every freckle, praying to every tear that falls from Dean’s eyes. “When your time on earth is done.”

“That long?”

Blue eyes hold him steady, hold him to the earth, ground Dean in a way that’s never failed him … not since Castiel first pulled him from Hell. “It won’t be long enough. The world deserves your gifts, Dean Winchester; and I will be ready and waiting—as long as it takes. Just promise me you’ll be happy, you’ll live and love the world you’ve saved. The world that I save for you. And when you do finally make it up to heaven, know that I’ll be there waiting for you and loving you still.”

Dean’s eyes open. The room is quiet—the faint scent of clouds and rain, and promise still hang in the air.

Miracle hops onto the bed to greet him, and Dean welcomes him with open arms.

And when Sam says he’s been thinking about Cas—about Jack, Dean knows that the only thing he can say is what Castiel told him as they held one another the night before; whether it had been a dream, or something more, it was all still real, and it all settled Dean’s heart to a steady pace—one that it would beat to until its very last.

“If we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.”

And when he sits beside Bobby in Heaven and hears him say Castiel’s name—Dean knows that the angel will kick his ass for coming by so soon, but he quickly smiles to himself, because... he told the guy before:

He didn’t want to do this without him.

#Destiel #dean winchester #castiel #15x19 #15x20 #the in between #supernatural #spn #fix it fic #inherit the earth #Carry On #Season 15 #sam winchester #Ary Writes #meta #coda #I never remember the difference