#to adjust and see what the actual dose i needed was and i felt okay on it! better than expected! but the prescription ran out

[starlit-mansion]

i really hope i can get my hypothyroidism under control soon. i am..... tired but also i never get enough sleep

#i am working on it... #my problem is that i hated my last doctor and got super avoidant about it so i started taking a very small dose and then never went back #to adjust and see what the actual dose i needed was and i felt okay on it! better than expected! but the prescription ran out #and i've been off it for like a month and brother... i can't get ANYTHING done #this is part of why i can't draw much lately even tho i want to. i am on reduced ration of spoon #the other reason is that now i play a round or two of mtg with corv every night so that's taken up my only free slot of personal motivation

[nurse-sainz]

Let me set the scene:

It's the Vegas Grand Prix, 2023. Lando has his crash, is high as a bloody kite in the hospital. Lando sees his nurse and I'd convinced he's dead bc 'why else would there be a legit angel?'

This is super short and silly but I absolutely adore this request! Thank you <3

P.S. I also love this and it is possibly one of my favourite photos of him! Boy is high as balls.

The red emergency phone rang, signaling an incoming ambulance, and you answered it with a sigh. "Mercy General Emergency Department," you answered as you clicked your pen and got the handover sheet ready to write down the patient information.

"Male…24…high-speed crash into a wall," you repeated back to dispatch that alerted you to the incoming patient, hating that you’d be spending what was left of your shift dealing with someone’s drunken antics or stupidity that had crashed them into a wall.

"How fast was he going?" you asked, not expecting the answer.

"180."

"Come again? 180mph and he’s still alive?" you repeated, not being able to hide the shock. "Do we need blood? X-Ray? Trauma surgeons and blood on standby? No one has called ahead." You suddenly woke up from the usual lull you felt around this time during your shift, your mind suddenly in full trauma mode.

"No, just precautionary checks. Patient is a Formula One driver and has been cleared by track medics, but they want a second opinion at the hospital and some scans in case."

Then it hit you…you followed F1 and had done for a few years. You’d been following the race on your phone during your breaks and knew Lando had crashed out during turn 14.

"Okay. Thank you, have you got an ETA?"

Dispatch relayed the time of arrival that gave you enough time to announce it over the tannoy and for your team to gather in one of the trauma rooms. You also called in security because you knew the press would be vultures all over this.

With the trauma room ready, you all waited for the arrival of your VIP patient. If you were being truthful, you were a little nervous at meeting one of your celebrity crushes but also knew you needed to keep it professional. What you didn’t expect was the goofy look on Lando’s face as he was wheeled on a stretcher into the room.

As soon as the paramedic crew had handed over and you’d transferred him over to the bed, you began attaching him to monitors and got your list of investigations and tests you’d need to perform from the doctor in charge.

The paramedics had clearly dosed him up with the good meds as he stirred in and out of consciousness, his eyes glassy and the goofy smile still plastered on his face every time his eyes met yours.

You woke him up once again, ready to check his pupils and GCS once more when he was a little more alert than he’d been since he arrived.

"Woah…am I dead?" his voice came out slightly slurred.

"The heart monitor beeping next to you would say otherwise," you laughed in reply.

"Are you sure, because why else would an actual angel be standing in front of me right now?"

You couldn’t help another laugh that escaped your lips as you watched him try to focus on you.

"And that would be the morphine," you fiddled with his IV and checked the fluids running before you input a few more things on his chart.

“I don’t think it is…” he slurred once more, “I know an angel when I see one.”

You were about to reply when you looked up from his chart and saw he’d fallen asleep, his head against his chest. You got up from your seat and adjusted his pillows so his neck wouldn’t be even more painful in the morning.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #my writing #beth writes #vivwritesfics

[danbisroom]

Ep. 2 - Wolves and stormy seas

Hello everyone,

welcome if you’re new and welcome back if you’re not! This is another episode of Danbi’s Room, your weekly dose of safe space. Grab a cup of something warm to drink and get yourself cosy.

First of all, I hope you’re all doing well! Have you spent a nice week?

When answering this question, always remember that resting is important, too and that we can’t always give our 100%. And also that sometimes we get lost, be it physically or mentally. To focus again and get back on track we need to stop, to pause. That’s actually a very good thing to do and it is much more common and frequent than you would tend to suppose. If you try to think carefully about your everyday life you will notice we’re constantly reevaluating and adjusting. Of course that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make plans at all or that commitment doesn’t matter: it’s just a way to underline that the improvisation and the score are equally important when dancing on this music that we call life. And this process is just another window on our multiple beautiful facets and on our constant state of change. We’re always changing. Now, we can either be victims of the inexorable transformations and variations or we can own them, welcome them and love them. I’d choose the second option, wouldn’t you? Yeah, I know, it is difficult. It’s quite scary most of time, especially in the beginning of the acceptance of this ever-flowing river into our existence. And trust me, the very second you believe the biggest waterfall has just passed there’s already another tortuous chasm awaiting you. With this I don’t mean to scare you, I really don’t. I’m talking about it because we don’t have to do it all alone by ourselves! We need to flow together and rest on each other’s shoulders together. We need to enjoy this stormy powerful sea together. Right?

I have to admit that even these thoughts…you know I didn’t do it all by myself. And that’s okay and totally normal. We are a result of everything and everyone that has crossed our path. You see? It’s all of us again, working together, living together. Breathing the same air and looking at the same sky. We must always remember to see through the eyes of love, to not let our hearts lock themselves in cages. You see, oftentimes pur past haunts us, and unluckily we can’t do much about it. Again, not alone. I know, frequently we feel like we can’t trust what’s around us and we also feel we can’t trust our ability to fly away if the branch on which we’re sitting breakes. Nevertheless, we can learn. Slowly but surely.

This is why I’ll tell you a story.

Once there was a little girl. She felt lonely and misunderstood by everybody. One day she meets a beautiful wolf. They become close, the little girl feels so relieved and understood and happy. But that wolf soon shows who he really is: a wounded energy-sucker who uses his open lesions of insecurity to project his pain onto others. He manipulates. He had built a cage around himself and he tries to build one around everybody else. The little girl suffers a lot for years, but then she finally manages to break completely free, with the help of her loved ones. She’s changed, she’s better, but now she’s afraid of wolves. It’s indeed a shame to feel so wary of these wonderful, majestic animals who populate the sumptuous mountains of her homeland. But what can she do? She waits. She goes on. One day she meets another wolf. She keeps her distance, even though he seems completely different from from the first one she had met before. He seems loving, warm. Honest. True. She still doesn’t give him much thought. Until one day, after many sleepless nights, he appears before her eyes. She suddenly feels warm and loved, she feels everything is okay and will be okay. She feels true love, as deep as the ocean, as vast as the universe. She feels the well known loyalty of the wolves. She feels a cosy big hug protecting her. She’s happy.

What does this mean? That a rotten apple can’t have the power of making you dislike apples.

It means that the world is still beautiful, that life is worth it, that love exists, despite all the ugly things. After all, they’re part of the game, too. Everything must be balanced, and nothing good comes without effort. But I can’t stress this enough, share. Share joy and share sorrow. We’re a tribe, we’re a pack. We’re love.

I’ll leave you with this thought. Let me know your opinion!

Have a beautiful week, big hug!

With love, yours,

Danbi

#aesthetic #art #books & libraries #kpop #danbisroom #blog #chans room #stray kids #bang chan #cozy #cozycore #safe space #community #wolf #grow up #daily life

[nothorses]

if you don’t mind my asking, i have a few questions!

1. obviously it’s different for everyone, but how long in your case did you see changes start to take place when just testosterone? anything funny or weird or cool?

2. would it make someone’s body go into a complete freak out with the removal of reproductive organs like a uterus or testicules or would it do nothing to help?

3. how many different ways are there to get, in your case, testosterone?

4. was it a difficult choice to make emotionally?

Sure! I will say I am particularly okay with sharing details about this stuff; it's not something everyone's comfortable with, but I'm happy to educate & spread info.

1. Personally, the first changes I noticed were deepened voice and bottom growth (clitoral enlargement). I felt the beginnings of them in the first two weeks, then my voice dropped noticeably at two months, and bottom growth has been a slow and steady change for me throughout.

My period gave up the ghost after three more (extremely weird) cycles since starting T, vaginal atrophy has been pretty minimal for me, and body/facial hair growth started pretty much as expected, but my blonde-ass genes mean I probably won't have anything resembling a beard for years to come. Body fat redistribution and muscle mass/strength both came later and sort of together, helped along by regular workouts. And hair loss hasn't really happened for me; it's more just that my hairline shifted to a more masculine pattern, and I'm now susceptible to MPB down the line- if it happens to be in my genes.

The weirdest thing was acne, actually; I've always had pretty rough cystic acne, but once I started T, it cleared up entirely for a few months. Then it started coming back, first on my back/shoulders, then where I was growing facial hair, and now there's some all over my face. It's worse than before, and I hate it. So much. (Antibiotics are helping, though.)

2. Removing the organs in your body that typically produce hormones will change the overall balance no matter what! Even top surgery fucks with that balance, and it's good to get your levels checked afterward.

HRT is actually often used for cis people when these things happen; menopause is probably the most common application of HRT, and folks will often go on estrogen to stay at normal levels. If you get a hysterectomy and are on T, you will likely need to adjust your T dose, but afaik it's stabilizing your body more than anything in that case.

3. There are 2 ways in practice, but technically 3 (to my knowledge). Shots are the most common method, and doses and intervals vary; the U.S. generally only prescribes once-a-week or every-two-weeks shots (subcutaneous or intramuscular), but I've heard other countries will administer shots every few months to just twice a year. Honestly couldn't tell you why we don't- but it probably has something to do with transandrophobia ("what if you change your mind!! :(")

The other method most often prescribed is gel, which is usually applied daily and absorbs through the skin. It's newer and looked down on, and myth surround it about being "less effective", but there's not much truth to them.

In the U.S., at least, doctors will almost never prescribe oral testosterone. From what I understand, they carry an increased risk of long-term heart complications and illnesses and are considered a last resort- if they're considered at all.

4. Honestly, the only difficult part of my choice to go on T was knowing I'd have to come out when I did- or soon after I did, at least. I knew I wanted to go on T before I knew I was transmasc, and deliberated for about 4 years before finally making the choice.

What finally got me to just do it was a conversation with an older trans man, also a teacher, from a trans mentor group. I asked him what his experience was as a teacher, and he talked about how wonderful and accepting his students were- and how the administration or parents were usually the problem, but he sort of just didn't bring it up anyway unless it was relevant.

But what really, really stuck with me was when he said, "the only regret I have is that I didn't start sooner."

I had some doubts and some worries when I first started, but I feel the same exact way now.

#hrt #testosterone #transmasc #transgender #trans #ftm #trans man

[mysticpetals]

Supermarket runs

Pairing: Jake × mc (Syianne)

Genre: fluff, humor

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Three times Jake ran into Syianne and one time he actually made plans.

Anonymous asked: Hello. If you do still requests, can you do 27 and 40, with Jake and MC from Duskwood from fluff? Sorry I forgot to add that.

Prompts: 27. "Are you blushing?" 40. "Why are you so afraid of loving?"

Notes: here it is! A cute meet up fic with Jake's point of view. I hope you like this one because it's going to be the last thing I'll be posting for a while 😬

Jake had reached his new hideout just a few hours ago.

After evading yet another capture from the government and planting false trails in his wake, he had escaped to a small town, renting an apartment for the time being.

Opening the door to his new house for a few days, he put his cat down, opened his cage and let him explore. Glitch immediately disappeared and Jake put his bags down, sighing tiredly.

He needed to make a quick run to the store nearby, getting some food and other essential items since it was clear that they didn't stock it in the room.

Before he could change his mind, Jake picked up his wallet, locking the door and walked to the store he came across on his way over to the apartment.

It was a medium sized store, probably the one of the few in this small town. Jake browsed the shelves picking up the things he needed along the way. He avoided eye contact with everyone, putting his hood up.

When he was done, he quietly put the few cup noodles and microwaveable dinners on the counter and waited for the cashier to scan his items. Just as he went to pick up the first item, the cashier's phone rang and he glanced at the screen, eyes widening in surprise before his face settled into panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I completely forgot," he mumbled to himself frantically and giving Jake an apologetic glance, ran towards the back room.

Well then, it wasn't like he was in any hurry either. He didn't want to go back so soon anyway. He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his mask so that it still covered the lower half of his face and looked around in boredom.

From the backroom, he could hear two voices arguing, one male and other female and just when he thought that maybe it was going to take a while, the cashier ran out of the room, hefting a jacket over his shoulders and looked back.

"I owe you one, Syianne! Thank you so much!"

Jake tilted his head on hearing the familiar name, memories of conversations with his Syianne creeping up.

"You really do, Percy! I better have a three day weekend after this!" The girl shouted back and Jake smiled behind his mask. She even sounded like her.

The cashier yelled back something but he was already out the door to hear properly. The girl came out from the back, wearing her uniform jacket and grumbling about having to do two shifts, but Jake had frozen.

"Sorry about that. My coworker forgot about the date with his girlfriend and had to bolt. Between you and me, she's pretty scary so I'd be running too," she said, already ringing up his few items but Jake couldn't reply. He kept staring at her familiar face, which he had accidentally accessed when going through her chats before.

This was his Syianne.

She glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't say anything before looking back on the screen. He broke out of his stupor when she told him the total and held up a bag with his items.

His fingers brushed against her and it felt like a lifetime, blood rushing to his cheeks and heart pacing.

"Thank you," he said and got a smile in return.

"You're welcome! Sorry about the delay earlier."

He shook his head rapidly, telling her that it was no trouble and he completely understood. That made her smile widen, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Come again soon!"

Oh, he'd be coming back very soon, indeed.

The first thing he did after reaching home was to power on his laptop and search for Syianne's location. Glitch hissed angrily at him for disturbing his slumber atop the chair he was now sitting in but Jake's eyes were fixed on the screen.

The results baffled him, as it showed her living in a completely different country from when he had searched her before, when he had just gotten her number. And then, realisation dawned on him that she might be using a VPN.

He banged his head on the table in frustration but also a little impressed that Syianne had thought of doing something like this to protect her identity.

He was supposed to stay away from all of them, to prevent pulling people into his messes but now one of the most important people in his life literally worked a walk away from his hiding place. He couldn't change places so frequently as it hadn't even been a day and he had to give some time to the police to cool off, before he got on the move again.

He sighed, too wound up to make anything but cup noodles, he got up and went into the kitchen. Glitch trailed behind him, sniping at his heels for his own food and Jake emptied the last can of cat food into Glitch's bowl.

With a jolt, he realised that he would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow again and it brought him equal parts of excitement as well as anxiety at the thought of seeing Syianne again.

———

The next evening, he put the cans of cat food on the counter and was disappointed to find that the guy from yesterday – Percy, if he recalled right – was going to scan his items.

Jake shifted the mask on his face and looked around to see if Syianne was somewhere but to no avail. If Percy noticed him looking around, he didn't say anything. When he grabbed the bag from him, the employee room opened and Syianne came out wearing casual clothes, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Percy!"

She came out from behind the counter and her eyes widened in surprise as they fell on him.

"Oh hi! You're the one from yesterday."

Jake cleared his throat and let out a hesitant, "Y-yeah."

Percy snickered, throwing a knowing look at Jake before turning to Syianne.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, idiot. Bring some coffee with you." He handed Jake his bag as he scrambled to bring out his wallet to pay and gave him a wide smile.

"Syianne here works the morning shifts." He winked and Jake was mortified to hear the amusement in his voice, knowing that he had been caught.

"I'm not bringing you anything until I get my three-day weekend. Anyway, nice to see you again…." She trailed off when she turned to Jake and his mind went into overdrive as he thought about whether he should tell her his real name or not.

"Phil." He blurted out, "My name's Phil."

She tilted her head, no doubt thinking about that bartender from Duskwood who was currently locked up in jail.

"Funny, I know a guy named Phil. Not from around here though." She glanced at the door giving him a final smile.

"Because all the customers come in the evening." Percy complained and Syianne only rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Well, come by in the morning if you want to chat. It's pretty chill that time."

"Deal with it. Anyway, see you tomorrow." She waved one last time and walked out, Jake's eyes following her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

"She's sweet and a little too trustful. I better not hear any complaints about you from her Phil or I won't hesitate to throw a punch or two." Percy threatened and Jake flushed before muttering a hasty excuse and practically running out of the store.

She actually talked to him today and hearing her voice, her words just made it harder for him to stay away. But it was okay if he didn't tell her who he was, right? She won't be in any danger then, right?

These thoughts chased him as he walked back to his temporary home, almost tripping over Glitch when he entered and found a disgruntled cat, waiting for his food.

———

The next morning, Jake worked in his room, occasionally shooing away Glitch who was determined to get his daily dose of affection.

"Just a minute, Glitch." He muttered, typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an eerie quickness.

A loud, disgruntled meow from his cat breaks the silence again and Jake heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing his laptop away and glaring at the culprit.

"Fine, you little devil! I'll give you breakfast first."

He walked out of the room, Glitch trailing behind him, purring in appreciation and hopped on to a chair while Jake took out the instant pancake mixture that he had recently bought. And that reminded him of the fact that Syianne was here, so close and whether he should tell her or not.

Making the pancakes in a daze, he put a plate in front of Glitch who immediately started gobbling it up. Jake huffed out a laugh and made his own plate, sitting across from his cat. The syrup was towards Glitch and when he leaned forward to take it, he was met by Glitch's paw swatting at his hand.

"What the hell? You ate already! Let me eat too!"

Glitch's paw rested on the syrup bottle and edged it towards the end of the table.

Jake froze.

"Glitch, no. Give me the syrup."

The bottle shifted a bit more.

"No, Glitch. Stop that."

The cat looked at him and stopped and Jake gave a sigh of relief, only to throw back his head in exasperation at the next moment as the bottle was finally pushed off the table.

"You little devil! I'm going to—"

The cat sprang up and ran into the other room, leaving Jake in the kitchen alone.

"Why is it always me?"

———

After cleaning up the kitchen and eating pancakes without any syrup, Jake found himself in the supermarket once again, embarrassed about being there everyday for the last three or so days.

When he put his items on the counter, including a syrup in a plastic bottle this time, he found himself facing Syianne who gave her an amused look.

"Having a good day, Phil?"

It took a moment for Jake to understand that she was talking to him and he flushed when he met her gaze.

"Not really. My cat decided to be an asshole today."

Syianne laughed and if Jake could have heard it everyday, he would. When she scanned his bandaids, she raised an eyebrow, and Jake gave her a sheepish smile, showing her his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh no, that looks bad," she said but Jake only shook his head.

"It's better than it looks, I promise. I'm just bad at wrapping things up."

She didn't smile but only looked behind him. Seeing no more customers, she gestured for him to come to her side of the counter. Confused, he did as she asked and understanding dawned on him when he saw her opening the packet of gauze he had just bought.

"Oh, no, no. It's okay. I can do it at home." He rushed but she didn't listen, silently asking for him to hold his hand forward. When he realised that Syianne wasn't going to take no for an answer, he sighed and put his hand forward, face heating up and he regretted forgetting to wear a face mask that day.

"Are you blushing?" She asked teasingly and his flush only worsened.

"I-I'm not used to other people caring for me."

She hummed.

"That must be lonely."

She carefully unwrapped his hand, winching at the sight of blood and cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, before wrapping a bandage around the cut. Her hands were gentle but firm, as if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times before. Jake was suddenly hit with a weird nostalgia, a feeling of wanting to know who she was, how many siblings she had, what her goals were.

He didn't realise when she had stopped, staring at him, as he was looking at her and only after several minutes had passed, did Syianne dropped her hands, letting him know that she was done.

The thought struck him like lightning and he quickly grabbed his bags, muttering another thank you and getting a simple smile in return. Before he knew, he was out on the streets and on the way to his house, his thoughts a raging turmoil.

"Thank you very much." He spoke softly, quietly, overwhelmed by such a gesture from her. He was essentially a stranger and she had still helped him, not knowing who he was.

She didn't know who he was.

What was he doing? Going to see her like that, finding excuses to go to the supermarket in hopes of seeing her? What did he want to accomplish?

He released a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair, when he reached the place. Glitch, knowing that it wasn't the time for his shenanigans, only gave a welcoming meow from his place on the couch.

Maybe it was time he started searching again.

Jake opened his laptop but the ping from his phone made him look for it, heart quickening when he saw her name on it.

Syianne [5:00 pm]

Hey Jake!

How are you doing? I hope you're safe

I patched up a guy today who came in at work. He had a cat too!

Anyway, I don't know why I'm still writing but I hope you're safe and nobody got to you

Why are you so afraid of loving?

Sorry, insensitive question. Ignore that

Waiting for when you come back

...I'm still looking forward to that date

Jake's lips quirked at her messages, warmed by her concern. She had messaged him everyday ever since he went into hiding again. He hadn't replied then, being busy because of his relocation, but now….

In a bold move, very uncharacteristic for him, he messaged her back.

Jake [5:03 pm]

What if I told you that the guy you patched up was me?

Syianne [5:04 pm]

What?

His name was Phil

Oh

Jake waited as she typed and erased, all of it going on for two minutes before she stopped. Jake had a sudden, terrible feeling that perhaps he had made a mistake but soon enough, she replied.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

You're cute in real life as well <3

Jake laughed, amused by her flirty response and decided that perhaps he'd stay there for a few more days.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

What about that date at the Chinese restaurant you promised me?

Jake [5:07 pm]

Does tomorrow work for you? ;)

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood mc #duskwood phil

[amyscascadingtabs]

darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

#my writing #b99 #peraltiago #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #jake x amy fanfiction #here it is i hope you enjoy!!!

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing III

A/N: Okay. This one has it all: action, betrayal, confessions, concussions (again), snark, and an ending that is neither happy nor sad, or maybe you make it what you want it to be :) This was so different from anything I’ve written and I want to say thank you everyone for reading it and motivating me to continue loll

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I’m surprised to find Harry on my doorstep this early on a Wednesday morning. At first, I think he’d cracked the case. But he looks like he’d just rolled out of bed, a stubble roughening his usual freshly shaved face. He didn’t look like he had good news.

“You look rough,” I comment. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he blows his cheeks out with a breath. “Ab-so-lutely nothing, literally. I’m hitting a dead end with your case and I feel like shit about it.”

“So...you’ve decided to knock on my door at quarter to 8 and? Discuss the case with me?”

“Well I...not exactly.”

“Did you want to come in? Maybe go through some more of my private boxes?” I ask. I was being petty, making him feel uncomfortable. But I also wanted to just put it out there, so it didn’t hang above us like the rest of our past. The last thing I wanted from him was pity, so if I had to make him feel guilty instead I would own that.

He blushes, just like I knew he would. “M’sorry about that,” he mumbles, looking appropriately self-conscious. “I could do with a coffee if you have some?”

“You look like you need one but...I’ve got to head out soon.”

“I’ll give you a ride in,” he offers. “I...we can just talk about the case. This can be professional.”

My laugh is brittle as I open the door to let him in, like a stray I knew I would regret. “Nothing about this is professional.”

He walks right in through to my kitchen--he knew where it was by now. I put on another pot and the awkward silence settles in. This was exactly how my friends described interactions with their exes, I guess I was truly living the life of a divorcee and it was all very mundane.

“So, did you have a guest over?” He asks. I raise an eyebrow and he motions to the two cups sitting on the table.

I roll my eyes and pick them up, “Great observation skills, Detective.”

“It’s my job,” he rolls with the sarcasm, cracking the ice we’d found ourselves in again. He takes a seat at the table and begins, “So the group that hit your bank hit up two more in the last week.”

“Two?” I was shocked. So many victims, I almost want to make a Bank Heist Survivor Group for us.

“Yeah,” he accepts the cup I pour for him. I sit across him with my second of the morning. The first I had drank with an on-and-off again guy I’d been seeing for the last few months--Alec. I never really let myself get serious with him, afraid to get hurt I guess. I knew he liked me, and he was good to me, but I didn’t want to make any commitments. This morning was the first time I let him stay for breakfast...after that letter it felt like something changed in me.

The letter...Harry...I focus back on his words as I realise he was talking to me, “...last one they’ve actually put someone in hospital--the ICU. If she doesn’t make it, it becomes homicide and-”

“Homicide?” Once again, I’m shocked. These people were really terrorizing the banks, and the police had no leads. Or at least that’s how Harry made it seem: “Any leads?”

“Um, I probably shouldn’t say-”

“So that’s a no.”

He looks up sharply before a small embarrassed smile softens his gaze. “Nothing serious.”

“That sounds like a load of useless shite you lot are doing at the station. Three banks and you’ve got nothing?”

He avoids answering, taking a sip of his coffee. “There are some leads, but the group’s really good. I just--I feel like there’s something staring me right in the face but I can’t see it.”

“What’s new?” I raise an eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he busies himself with the coffee. “What? I’m not joking.”

“This,” he gestures to me. “This snarky Y/N is a bit of an adjustment. I know you like your sarcasm, I just haven’t had it directed at me in a while.”

I cross my arms, maybe I needed to dose up my attitude so he knew I was 100% serious. When he catches on, he sets his cup down. “They’ve hit your bank up first yeah? I feel like there’s a reason for that, some personal connection maybe? Have you guys turned down anyone for a loan or anything recently? Someone that might want to target your bank first?”

“I’d have to check,” my mind begins to go over anyone we’ve had come in recently with issues.

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat. “The client you were meant to see--did you talk to him? I was going to ask you when you came to pick up the evidence but...”

“I was too busy to go.” I finish his sentence for him. “It’s weird actually, I called and got voicemail. I also emailed to apologise and reschedule but his office is away, I only get automated replies that they’re out of office or something.”

Harry pulls out the notebook he uses and asks me to write down their information, I was sure I’d written it down for him already but I write it a second time. I push the notebook back towards him, and he places his hand on top of mine instead of taking it back from me. I freeze, his large hand familiar and yet, heavier than I remembered.

“What are you doing,” I ask.

“I...want to apologise. For the other day.”

“Please let go of me,” I stare at his hand on mine.

“If I can just say-”

“Let go,” I say, slower. He clears his throat and removes his hand.

I pick up my mug, and move to the sink. Harry realises he’d overstayed his welcome and gets back up, throwing his jacket over his arm and hovering at the edge of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he says awkwardly. “And letting me think out loud. Should I um, wait outside?”

I remember I’d forgone getting to work on time on my own for his coffee and case updates. Fuck, this was going to be awkward. “Sure, I’ll just grab my things.”

He waits on my front stoop, talking on his phone and once he’s done we walk silently to his car when I join him. The silence in the car is deafening. I watch his hand twitch to the radio but he rests it back onto the steering wheel without turning it on. After a few more moments of silence, he speaks up.

“So uh, did you want to ask me about what you brought up...the day you came to pick up the evidence? You said you had questions?”

“Are you serious?” I look at him, incredulous. He really was incredibly thick if he thought I wanted to have this conversation now, after this morning.

“What? I’m just trying to make conversation and you’re the one that wanted to talk about it so-”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I only want to talk to you about the case? What makes you think that’s a good topic right now?”

He shrugs, and I once again pray that the other people on his team were smarter than him because if he was the lead, my case was going nowhere.

“Can I just ask one question?” He tries again. I almost want to slam my hands on the dashboard but I sigh through gritted teeth instead and tell him he could. “Did you...ever actually read the letter? Last week...you sounded sort of surprised when I mentioned it.”

“I...” I consider lying. but I go for the truth which is a change for us. “I didn’t.”

“Oh,” he sounds dejected.

“I read it last weekend.”

“Oh,” he says again, slightly hopeful. “But this whole time...you didn’t know?”

“That’s another question.” I didn’t want to go into what I thought of him this whole time. “I only agreed to one question.”

“Fair enough,” he taps the steering wheel. We’d managed to get stuck in some traffic. “So that box I sort of looked into the other day...”

“I said no to more questions, Harry.”

“That wasn’t a question,” he says, neatly catching me in his trap. I glare at him, but his cheeky smile tells me he was slightly enjoying pushing my buttons. I make a mental note to never accept a ride from my ex-husband ever again.

We fall silent, and the letter plays through my mind again, I’d reread it a few times before I tucked it into my bookshelf. I’d decided after that, to take The Box and tape it up. I wrote my sister’s address and left it by my front door to mail out when I had the chance. It was time I let it go, I realized. My sister was having her third child, and I was so happy for her. I had people who loved me, and people I loved. I realised that I was holding on to the box and it was just torturing myself. I had enough torturous things in my life, I didn’t need to be one of them.

It feels like forever until Harry pulls up to the curb down the street from my building. I thank him properly, not wanting to be a complete bitch.

But as I walk around to the sidewalk, he calls my name. I turn back to him standing outside his car with his hand outstretched.

“You forgot this,” he holds out my umbrella. I sigh and go back to take it from him but he holds onto it.

“Are you going to let me have it?” I tug again.

“Yes,” he lets go and I have to balance myself on my back leg. “Thanks for taking me in this morning. And for the coffee...you didn’t have to, yet you did.”

“Don’t read into it detective,” I scowl. “It was purely to get more insight on the case.”

“Right,” he smirks.

“But since you had no insights, it was a waste of time.”

“Don’t say that so loud,” he hisses. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m not telling the people something they don’t already know.”

He narrows his eyes and grins, and my heart skips a beat. It was a familiar look, he used to look at me like that all the time. And I realise that maybe I’d just been flirting with him a little, albeit aggressively but...I drop my smile into a neutral expression. He notices the change and drops his own grin.

“I spoke to my supervisor and I’m going to set up in an empty room if that’s alright. I wanted to interview some of your staff, see if they had any clients who might want revenge by-”

“You’re coming in today?” I feel like he’d just pulled some sleight of hand trick on me, driving me to work only to come in with me. “I don’t know if my staff wants to talk.”

“It’s an investigation, they all agreed to further questioning when they gave their statements Y/N, I’m not going to be invasive. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

“I have no choice do I?” I turn around and begin walking up the street. He follows me in.

And surprisingly, I barely notice him in the empty conference room until after lunch when he comes in to tell me he would be back later, that he had to drop by the station for something his evidence team found.

I make a few rounds to my staff, make sure Harry didn’t disrupt their peace. That they were still okay after talking about the thieves. Being on the floor, my eyes continue to dart to the door, eyeing each of the customers.

I lock myself in my office for the last hour, channeling the nervous energy to get work done. It’s a few minutes before closing that I get the email. I rush to open it: the client I was meant to see finally responded.

Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N,

We apologise for the delay in our response, our offices have been closed for the last week blah blah blah. We’re very sorry to hear about the events that occurred in your bank. As a loyal client, we would like to extend our sympathy...

I skip to what I needed to know:

To respond to your inquiry about the meeting we had scheduled, there doesn’t look to be anything on our end. I’ve spoken to the advisor personally, he had a flight out of the city that exact date so he wouldn’t have booked a meeting at the same time. I think this could be an error on your end but do let us know if there’s anything we can provide to help...

I sit back from my screen, my thoughts racing. I read it again to be sure and bury my face in my hands. I read it a third time to be sure.

Adam had specifically told me the meeting was at 10am sharp, the client threatened to switch banks if I didn’t attend. But if they never booked it...I actually had no reason to be there.

Except I was the only one who had access to the vault.

I stand up in a rush, this was an inside job! Someone I worked with knew who robbed this bank, they worked with them! Harry was right, the truth was staring at us and it was so obvious!

I take out my phone and text Harry: call me, the client for Thursday just got back to me...he wasn’t in the city that day?  I think about adding more, but I didn’t want to freak him out. This could be a big misunderstanding, and I didn’t want him to come here only for it to be nothing. I place my phone on my desk and take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

I walk out of my office, most of my staff had cleared for the day. Two of them deal with the last customers, but my eyes are searching for Adam. I had to ask him more about this client phone call, what number had they called from? Was he sure it was from the correct offices?

But Adam is nowhere to be found, which was weird because he worked until 5pm.

I move to the staff room, but stop in my tracks when a familiar voice chills me to the bone. I knew the voice, it was the same distinct voice that haunted my thoughts for the last two weeks.

I peek around the corner, Adam and a muscled bloke stand right outside the staff room. My shock catches itself in my throat as my heart plummets; the inside man--it was Adam. Adam had betrayed us all. Shy, awkward Adam. Suddenly I remember all of his jumpy behaviours since the robbery, and all his questions about security before. I just thought he was trying to learn more about the bank. Little did I know...my blood boils but  I have to put aside my own feelings of betrayal when the conversation grows louder. I strain to hear.

“The phone and the fucking card are missing, you better not be the reason we’re found out!” The muscled guy with the voice jams his finger into Adam’s chest. Adam looks scared shitless.

“I swear, I looked through the evidence they returned. I-I gave you the phone back! They haven’t said anything-”

“But that one detective was sniffing around here this morning? That’s why you texted me right? What did you tell him huh?”

“I didn’t say anything, he hasn’t even talked to me I-”

“That’s right. Make something up, a crazy customer from the day before some shite like that. If you even look suspicious to him, I’m going to come over to your flat for a nice dinner and invite my friend with me.”

My eyes bug out when I see him shift his jacket to reveal the hilt of a gun. Fuck!

I reach down for my phone but I don’t have it, double fuck, I think. I left it on my desk after texting Harry. I was an idiot, a big big idiot.

I try to soften my footsteps as I walk away from the staff room but the conversation must have ended because their footsteps echo on the tiled floor. I push into the nearest door and lay flat against the wall inside. I’m so focused on listening for their voices that I don’t realise I stepped into the men’s room.

“-before I leave..” to my horror, their voices stop right outside the room I’m in. I look around and realise I was in the men’s room. My instinct is to hide in a stall but this was a one-toilet bathroom, there was absolutely nowhere to go.

In slow motion, the door in front of me opens and the muscled, gun-owning guy looks right at me. It feels like a Western showdown as we lock eyes and freeze.

“Hey...Adam,” the guy calls out to Adam who must’ve been behind him. Adam peers around his shoulder and tenses when he notices me. “She’s in the men’s room! Isn’t that weird?”

“I-Y/N...she usually uses the men’s room.” Adam tries to cover for me but my deer-in the headlights expression is enough to give away that I knew who he was. I was trapped in here like prey. Adam lowers his voice, “C’mon, just leave her here and go-”

“She’s seen my face though,” He steps in and I inch into the corner.

“Look, I can forget your face. We can pretend this never happened please, I really really don’t want to die in a men’s room.”

Tattoo laughs, untucking his gun from his waistband. “I don’t believe you. Adam, get some tape so we can tie her up. I don’t want blood on my hands but if you make any noise, I’m painting this room fucking red.”

I keep my mouth shut, and nod. I’m reliving the worst day of my life all over again as I stare at the barrel of the gun. A small part of me wonders how my life could hang in the balance of this man’s fingers, twice, but I stay silent.

“There’s nobody here, everyone’s gone home.” Adam says, more to me. Tattoo pushes me against the tiled walls and pats me down roughly. I protest but he pushes the gun against my skull and I fall silent. Adam tries to step in, offering to make sure I didn’t have anything on me like my phone but I was stupid enough not to have it on me. His friend steps into the hall and makes a call, I assume to his crew.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Adam’s voice breaks as he pats me down gently. I turn to him, with tears in my eyes. I was scared, and I needed Adam to get help. “Adam please, please don’t do this. Whoever he is, the police can protect you I-”

“He’s my cousin Y/N, you don’t understand he will kill me if I go against him. It’s complicated--my family’s complicated. I’m not like them. Y/N I’m so sorry I swear he...” he falls silent as his cousin comes back in. Adam makes a show of taping my hands and legs. I try to whisper, beg him to try but Tattoo notices and shoves me against the tiles. I think I black out for a second because the next moment, he’s pressing tape down over my mouth. I feel the panic I’d kept at bay blow up in full force, along with an ache in my temples. My breathing comes out short and I squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry. I was going to die in a men’s restroom; this was what my miserable life had culminated to.

I remember the text to Harry then, maybe he’ll come. With backup. Maybe he’ll save the day for once. And I think about security, they surely noticed I never left the building, maybe they’ll go looking for me.

But my hopes are dashed when a woman comes in, I recognise her voice as the one who’d pushed me into putting the code into the vault.

“The side door was unlocked,” she tells Tattoo. She notices me and smirks, “It’s like you want your bank to be robbed. Who leaves the side door open after hours?”

She laughs and turns back to Tattoo, tells him that the guards were down and the place was officially locked up. They bring Adam in, and check with him that he knew where I kept my passwords, that he could clear out any money still left at this time of the day. I don’t hold back then, my tears flow silently down my cheeks as I watch them all leave me in the dark. If the police still hadn’t arrived, I really was going to die here like this. I don’t know when, but I pass out, and when I come to again I’m being pulled up aggressively while a familiar voice shouts at the people dragging me. Was that Harry?

H’s POV:

The one time I leave my phone in my car, I miss the most important text of my entire career--my entire life.

Around 2:30, the evidence team calls me, there was a breakthrough on the phone and card from the scene. A few numbers, but they were still trying to process the application for the records. I decided I couldn’t sit around and wait so I drive to the station and rush inside, leaving my phone behind.

It’s a waste of time though, the number leads to a burner that leads to a local shop that leads to a credit card. And that leads to a warrant which could take hours. Two hours later and I’m frustrated and moody. I decide to get some fresh air, and check my phone but reaching for my pocket I realise it wasn’t there.

I head to my car and find it between the seats. When I turn it on, Y/N’s name stands out and her text pushes me to my feet and into my car. I call her three times on my way to the bank but it keeps ringing. Fuck, I think. What if something happened to her? How was it that it was now a second time I was rushing to where she worked, afraid for her life.

I pull up the closest parking spot I can find to see security locking up. I rush to knock on the door but he only glances me, points to the closed sign, and walks away disinterested. I was in plainclothes today so he must have thought I was a customer. I reach for my badge to show him, and realise I’d left that in my jacket in my car. I couldn’t get anything fucking right today. I bang on the door but he ignores me, and the people outside begin to stare at me.

“I’m a detective,” I try to reassure them but they hurry past. It was stupid but I squint to see if anyone was inside, but there’s not a single soul. I see movement cast a shadow at the very end of the room but I can’t see anything with the way the glass is positioned. I center myself at the front again but the security is gone--I was going to have to find another way in.

I move around the big block of a building, looking high and low for another entrance into the building but the next shop over is a cafe so I double back and try the other way. A wooden door sits between the bank and the purses crowded in the store window on the other side. I try the door but it’s locked. Of course.

I go back to my car and find my lock pick kit, picking up my badge was a good idea. Within minutes, I’m in and a sterile hall greets me. I try the door on the left, but notice the keypad. After some bad guesses, I consider who set this: Y/N. I try her birthdate, her family’s birthdates--as close as i could remember. My feet tap against the tile rhythmically when the door knob turns right in front of my eyes. I dash to the side and huddle in front of the next door, rattling my keys as if I were trying to get in. Luckily, that door is unlocked and it’s a utility closet. I rush inside and peek through the crack; a man comes out and holds the door open while a woman opens the door I just came in from.

“It was unlocked,” she says skeptically.

“Shite security, just come in. When’s Russ getting here? He’s always the bloody last of us anywhere.”

Something was very wrong, I realize. But I don’t have time to think, I jump out of my hiding spot and manage to slide my hand into the closing door. I nearly crush my fingers but I nudge the door back open and slip into the bank.

The area’s clear, I move in to investigate. It’s only when I move from the hidden passage to the main lobby that the weight of the situation dawns on me. A different man wraps the security’s hand behind his back and pushes him against the wall. Push was nicer than what it looked like, he practically drags the guard into the wall.

My shoes squeaks on the floor and he looks up sharply, eyeing the area I was peeking out from. I crouch down, next to the trash bin and wait for his footsteps to leave. When I peer around the corner again, a familiar face paces behind the desks. Adam, I think it was, Y/N’s assistant.

It becomes clear in an instant, like a timelapse of a foggy night clearing into a bright blue sky. It was right in front of my face: Y/N’s assistant. The one who’d asked her to come in for a made-up appointment, the one who knew her exact schedule, the one who was jumpy and nervous every time I spoke with him. I thought he was just a shy kid but...he’d betrayed Y/N and been the inside man for these robberies.

I take my phone out, ready to text someone for backup but voices coming my way forces me to stop what I was doing. I press myself against the wall, trying to make myself smaller.

“I think she’s knocked out-”

“Don’t hurt her,” That was Adam. I recognised his cowardly voice. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without her just, leave her in the bathroom. We can take everything and go.”

“You don’t have a say what goes on around here,” the woman says to him. “Your puny arse is why that detective was sniffing around here anyway.”

“She’s seen all our faces,” one of the guys says. “I’ll do it after you go.”

“She won’t remember, please.” Adam tries again. “Leave the charges at robbery, don’t add murder. She’s my boss I...”

The blood rushes to my head: his boss. Y/N was here, and they were casually talking about killing her? I take my phone out just as it begins to vibrate. I jump and manage to stop it in time, but my badge--the one thing I’d taken from my car purposely, clangs against the metal trash can.

Footsteps rush towards me and I stand up with my hands up, “Backup’s on the way, I suggest you lot put down-” they were all pointing guns at me. Bollocks. “your weapons.”

“That’s the fucking detective,” the one I’d seen tying up security waves his gun at me and I try not to panic. I wasn’t involved with a lot of guns, just the wounds they left in victims. I listen to him swear, “Backup yeah? I don’t hear shit. How did you even get in here?”

“I told you, the door was unlocked. The security here is shite.” The woman says, eyeing me. “I say we tie him up with the bitch and skip out now.”

“We haven’t even taken everything, this idiot doesn’t know the passcode-”

“I told you it changes every week. She must have changed it today.”

“Adam, how could you?” I speak up and all eyes-and guns-are back on me. Adam opens his mouth like a fish out of water but nothing comes out, I watch as he squirms and his group moves closer to me.

“Phone,” the one with tattoos points to the device in my hand. “Check his phone, if he called backup it would be on it.

I curse, they were smart. They’d robbed three banks after this and hadn’t left much behind--I should’ve known to be better prepared.

Someone takes my phone, another comes around and shoves the gun in my back which forces me to walk out into the lobby. They go through my phone and snicker at something. type something in and then toss the phone in the trash can beside us. I balk at the sound it makes when it crashes; the gun in my back pushes me forward and I’m forced to walk down the lobby, through a door and up to the men’s room.

“Wake the bitch up,” one of them men speak behind me. “Tie this one up and get her to open the safe with the new code.”

I knew I was outnumbered, they push me through the door and Y/N’s body is curled in one corner. The freshly pressed clothing from this morning are rumpled around her frame and she looks unconscious. The one who tied up security tapes my hands around my back and pushes me beside the sink.

“Don’t touch her!” I struggle against the arms who hold me back as the tattooed guy hauls her up and slaps her face.

“Wake up, it’s show time.” he shakes her. I push against the body pressing me down as they take Y/N out of the room. Her eyes flutter open and catch mine before she’s dragged out.

“I swear if you guys touch her I’ll snap your neck in half,” I can’t stop the panic turning into rage. “She-”

“Are you sleeping with her or something? Shut the fuck up.” The woman kicks the back of my knees and I fall, hitting my head as I crash down on my knees. She closes the door behind her.

I don’t know how much time passes but it feels like hours. The next time the doors open, they shove Y/N inside and she stumbles. I jump up to help her but with both of our hands behind our backs I accidentally lurch forward and her head bumps off chest.

“God! Harry!” She winces. “Way to hit the one part of my body that already feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Y/N,” I steady her with my chest and lean down to look at her. “Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“Other than terrify, harass, and manhandle me? Oh, and give me another concussion...hm...”

“Here,” I motion with my chin. “Turn around, I’m going to get this tape off of you and you help me.”

She does as I say and I use the sharp edge of the ring I wore to make a small tear.

“Holy shit that’s better,” she shakes her hands out and gets to work on mine. As soon as my hands are free I try the door, there was a slim chance but we were in a restroom. I had to try. But it’s locked. Y/N speaks up from behind me: “They lock from the outside if you have the key--they probably got it from security. I don’t know who I angered in a past life but this is some shitty karma.”

“There’s got to be a way out of this room,” I wasn’t about to give up.

“There isn’t. But shouldn’t there be, like, backup coming?” Y/N takes a seat against the wall, watching me explore every inch of the tiny room.

“I...no. They took my phone before I could-”

“You came here without telling anyone? Even after the text I sent?” She shoots daggers at me.

“Well your text wasn’t exactly screaming danger!”

“I really have no fucking clue how you got your position Harry, surely anyone else would not be this dense.”

“I’m trying to find us a way out of here, this isn’t my fault! And anyway, it is your assistant that’s set this all up,” I say defensively.

“Sure know how to pick the men in my life, don’t I?” She says, but quieter. Seeing her bruised and hopeless there fuels me to look harder for a way our but after a frantic search, there really wasn’t anything in this place. No window, no vent big enough, nothing to pick the lock. I find a first aid that’s mostly empty, but there’s still an ice pack, tape, and painkillers inside. I crack the ice pack and hand it to Y/N who takes it silently, and then I slump down against the wall opposite Y/N and hang my head.

“What do you reckon they’re doing out there?” she asks.

“They were going to clean the place out and skip town.”

“Do you think we’re gonna die here?” she asks, her voice wobbly like she was about to cry. “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that, I’m just...asking.”

I look away from her face, her expression crumbling under my light scrutiny. She sniffs. Without looking at her I say “We’re not dying here. I told my guys to call me when they have something, and if they can’t reach me it’ll be suspicious enough to followup at least.”

“By the time they grow suspicious enough to track you, we’ll be dead. I’ve not got much faith in your team.” Y/N crosses her arms. Even under these circumstances, she’s fierce.

“They’re close to a breakthrough. It was them calling me that got me caught out there actually. Not even the call itself...my bloody badge clanged against the--it doesn’t matter anyway. But they must have something, they’ll be here soon. We won’t die in here.”

I felt more than hopeless stuck here. Out of the two of us, I was supposed to be the one who could make their way out of this type of situation. Months of training and years of experience, and here I sat stuck in a bathroom with the woman I gave up on.

“What a way to go,” she sighs. “In the bloody loo.”

I want to go over and put my arm around her, maybe I needed the comfort more than she did. But based on the way she crosses her arm and keeps her legs up I know she’s guarding herself. I could read the signs. So we sit there silently for who knows how long. Every so often a muffled noise comes from outside, we hear a crash but the silence after doesn’t tell us whether the thieves had left or they were still around.

With Y/N going mute, I look around the room again but there’s still nothing. She slumps further to the floor, and I seat myself back down again. I stare at her, remembering the shape of her face under my hand, the curve of her hips when my fingers traced them. Her laugh, the way she liked to tease me. If I was dying here, and this was my life flashing before my eyes...I sure had missed out on a lot of it. And if the robbers decided to come in here, and put a bullet in each of us, what kind of person had I even been?

A new surge of energy goes through me, I take the slim door handle and try it again. I know it wasn’t going to open but I tug it, again and again. I brace my foot against the wall and try and try again. But it remains stubbornly closed.

Winded, I sit back down. Y/N just watches me silently as the hope officially leaves my body. We sit in silence.

“Are you happy?” she asks after a few minutes. I look over at her bruised forehead, she raises an eyebrow and immediately winces. I reach over--in the small space, even on opposite walls, she was an arm away. I guide her hand with the ice over the bruise.

“I don’t know,” I admit, leaning back against the wall. “Why?”

She shrugs, going silent. I stretch my legs out and she mimics me, finally letting down her guard as her legs rest beside mine. I give her another minute, and she responds. “Your letter, you said you left because you weren’t happy. So I’m just wondering...are you happy now?”

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?”

“Well, it would make you falling in love with another woman and breaking my heart in the process a little easier to accept...it wouldn’t have been for nothing if you’re happy.”

“You sure have a lot of tact,” I sigh.

“We might die here?” she fixes me with an annoyed glare. “There’s no time for tact when I could get closure? Before I die?”

“We’re not dying in here,” I promise but she shrugs like she didn’t have much faith in me. And why should she?

“Don’t avoid the question: are you happy?”

I give myself a moment, taking in her face. I didn’t know how to answer that without the overwhelming shame and guilt choking me. In a way, yes. In others, no. I settle for, “Sometimes.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” she hits her foot into my knee. “Sometimes? You cheated on me, and dumped me for a sometimes?”

“Okay wait,” I stop her. “I want to get something straight, I never cheated on you--”

“You did! You fell for some woman a-and you literally married her not even a year after we split!”

“Y/N,” I grow serious. She had thought that this whole time that I... “That’s not how it-” I let out a breath, truly realising what she thought of me this whole time. “Y/N, I fell for someone, sure, but I never even went out with her before we split. Nothing happened! It just took falling for someone else to make me realise my heart wasn’t in it--with us. It made me see I wasn’t happy where I was. But I-I went on one date with that person after we split and it was awful. She avoided me at work after that.”

“What?” she furrows her brows. “So-so who the fuck did you marry?”

I almost laugh, but it would be so inappropriate. “Someone else I worked with-”

“Wow, Harry, you really know how to get around.” She crosses her arms.

“I never denied that--you knew me in uni.”

A small smile cracks her guard but she covers it with an eye roll. “That’s the only thing you’ve said all day that’s actually made sense.”

“It’s nice to see you smile,” I say which earns me a glare. I saw it coming, and that makes me smile. Her glare falters at my smile and she covers her face with the ice pack. I continue, feeling more confident to explain. “Anyway, it was this other person from work, we’d worked on a few files together and she was actually the one who asked me out when she found out I was single. I felt like I had a strong connection with her--to be honest I think I was just lonely and h-um,..y’know. Mistook that for a gem, and married her.”

“I always thought you married the woman you fell for. So you could have a baby.”

I have to laugh at that. “I didn’t want a baby that badly--with someone I barely knew at best.”

She shrugs, “Well we were so tumultuous after we found out our chances were low and you were such a bitch to me about that so what else was I to think?”

I feel like an arse all over again. “I was an idiot, a big fucking idiot Y/N.”

“When did you realise?” She leans forward. “Cuz I’ve known that for years now.”

I rub my face with my hand, she was never going to make this easy. “I thought having a kid would make me happy, make me feel complete; it was the missing thing in my life. So when I realised our chances were low, it just killed my hope of ever being happy. Honestly I think even if we got pregnant I would’ve still been unhappy. I was just...using that as an excuse to..break us apart. It was never about you, I was just too cowardly to admit that I was going to hurt you if I told you I wanted a divorce for the real reason: because I wasn’t happy.”

“So...you made me feel like a fuck-up for not being able to get pregnant instead?”

“I...yeah,” there was the waves of shame crashing into me, I was drowning in it. Y/N just sits there, I can feel the judgement and hurt rippling off of her as she pieces everything together. “I feel awful about that. You really didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Her tightened fists tell one story, but the tears pooling in her eyes tells a different one. I slide closer to her, crossing my legs in front of her. “There’s nothing I can say to even begin to apologise for that. I should have just been honest, told you I wasn’t happy in the relationship, in my job, where my life was heading. But I let you believe it was somehow your fault and I can never take that back.”

She continues to watch me, her mouth a tight line as she tries not to cry. But with a blink of her eyes, the tears are streaming down her face. I reach out to her, out of habit, but she shrinks away. So I move back to the opposite wall and watch miserably as she cries into her sleeves.

“I was still unhappy, after the other marriage.” The only thing I can do is continue, I didn’t want to watch her cry in silence. “It took me finding her flirting with another bloke at work to realise we were a farce. I split with her, quit my job a few weeks later, and it was only then I felt free. It was a good feeling; the closest to happiness I’d felt back then. And then I lived with my sister for a few weeks while I figured out my next steps. You should know she was fuming when she found out we split, she didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Y/N had wipes her tears by now, and listens to me talking in silence. When I mention my sister, she smiles. “We talk, here and there. Never about you, but I still keep in touch with her. And your mum. We had dinner when they were in London last year, it was really nice.”

“What?” This was news to me. “They never mentioned it.”

“Obviously not,” a smile pulls at her mouth and I’ve never been more relieved to see it. “They like me better than you.”

“Ouch,” If we got out of this--when we got out of this, I had questions for my mum.

“So,” she traces a crease on her trouser. “you switched jobs? Found the right fit?”

“Yeah, I did really good there. Moved up quickly. I found something I was passionate about, and it felt good. I think I was happy until...recently.”

“What happened?”

A shout from the other side of the door gives us pause, the door bursts open and I quickly move to block Y/N. But someone pushes an unconscious body into the room with their hands tied. With three bodies in here, it’s suddenly overcrowded.

“If you say one more thing to me, I will put a bullet in his fucking head...” The conversation fades out as the door slams and they walk away. Y/N rushes past me to the body and turns it face up.

“Adam,” she gasps. I walk over and her assistant lays there with a black eye and bruises forming all over his face. She unties his gag and I make sure he’s breathing.

“He’s alright, Just unconscious.” I let her know as she pulls off her jacket and piles it under his head. “He is the one who let these people into your life, you remember that?”

She glares at me, “He didn’t have a choice Harry. I spoke to him when I gave him the code--one of them’s his cousin. He said they were going to break in one way or another and if he didn’t help they would shoot him and me during the process.”

“He had plenty of time to tell you after the fact-”

“Have a little compassion,” she throws her hands up. “He didn’t ask to have a fucking criminal family. Just, let’s wait for him to wake up. He’s been through a lot.”

“So have we,” I mumble but she doesn’t acknowledge me. She moves to her wall instead, putting her hand to her head.

“Let me see,” I slide myself towards her and move her hand away from the area. I pick up the ice she abandoned on the floor and hold it to her head but she snatches it back, saying she could hold it herself, right before she pitches forward and passes out herself.

Y/N’s POV:

I wake up confused and groggy, only to see Harry’s face hovering above mine. For a second, I think that maybe I was living in a twisted Groundhog Day type of situation, forced to relive the bank heist until I resolved things with Harry. But then I notice his split lip and remember my life was that unlucky that I was in the same position twice.

“Jesus, you’re awake.” Harry lets go of my hand which he’d been holding.

“It’s actually just Y/N,” I try to crack a joke. It flies past his head, his eyebrows pinching together. He asks me if I remembered my name, where I was, and a dozen other questions even though I insist I was fine. I was laying down with my head in his lap, I realise halfway through the interrogation. But trying to get up made me dizzier so I stay. He shows me the paracetamol he found in the first aid and forces me to down two, and I only agree because my head had started pounding.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he pushes my hair back. I try not to focus on the warmth of his hand on my skin, how nice it felt. I was bloody delirious. “You have to stay awake Y/N, this is the second time you’ve hit your head I think your concussion might be more serious this time if you’re passing out--”

“Harry please,” I put my hand up to stop his rambling. “Your voice is hammering at my migraine.”

“Sorry,” he smooths down my hair again, and again, like it soothed him more than it soothed me. “I’m not used to feeling so useless like this. But there’s absolutely nothing in here that’s going to help us get out. All we can do is sit tight and wait for one of them to come back.”

“So finish your story,” I ask. “You said you were happy until recently. What happened.”

He looks at me skeptically but I insist I wanted to know. I was finally getting the full story, the closure that actually made sense. And I wanted all of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“The box,” he says simply and I flinch because I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Well, seeing you and realizing-- this whole time it’s like, I’ve missed you in the peripheral y’know? And seeing you that day, forced me focus on how much I missed my...best friend. And after that, the box? I realized what I did to you...the impact of it? Maybe I was just daft this whole time for not really thinking about it but-”

“I was pregnant,” I blurt out. If I was going to die, I may as well tell him. “A few weeks before our...breakup. I found out. And I was going to tell you. I was-I was just so excited I’d bought some things prematurely. But then I lost the...baby. I’d just boxed the shite away after that. Carrying it with me...it hurt but I almost believed that I deserved it?”

I watch him swallow, from this angle I can see the muscles in his jaw clench. I reach up and my hand lands on his neck, I move it to rest on his chest where I intended. He looks down and I see the tears coat his lower lashes. I think I was half-drowsy from the pain meds but I want to cry with him, and wipe his tears. A distant part of my brain screams at me for being confused and slightly fucked up, but my medicated brain reach up to pat his face. My heart flutters when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He whispers.

“Would it have made a difference?” I ask, my eyes drifting shut. But he shakes me rudely and they fly open.

“Stay awake.” He insists. “And...it wouldn’t have made a difference but at least you wouldn’t be carrying it alone.”

“Well I’m not, anymore.” I yawn. “I told you, and you seen it. And m’gonna mail the box to my sister--she’s pregnant by the way. She might have better use for it.”

He eyes me, “How did that make you feel?”

“You’re not a bloody therapist,” I laugh. “Don’t ask me that.”

“I think I’d make a good therapist,” he says over-confidently.

“You’re the reason why I had a therapist,” I mumble. “You’d be an awful therapist. Your patients would need therapy from therapy.”

I laugh, it wasn’t even that funny but everything just felt ridiculous. Harry’s smiling down at me, but a loud crash from outside wipes it. His body tenses, and I watch the door.

“Sorry,” he whispers before gently moving my head off his lap and onto his jacket he’d bundled. He picks something up from beside him--the toilet seat.

“Why are you holding a toilet seat?” I whisper-shout. He puts his finger to his lips and crouches on the side of the door.

“You were passed out for a while, I had time to make a bit of a mess-”

He cuts his sentence short as the door opens and Adam’s cousin comes in swearing at Adam but before he can reach for him, Harry slams the toilet seat over the guy’s head. I watch it all sideways, my head feels too heavy to pick it up. The man crumples on top of Adam, and Harry expertly searches him, picking his gun off of him.

From outside, the woman’s voice come closer.

“What’s taking so long? The car’s outside just grab your stupid cousin let’s go! The cops will be here any min-”

She freezes when she comes face to face with the gun in Harry’s hand. She reaches for hers and in half a second, Harry’s fired his gun into her arm. She lets out a shout and falls to the floor. Harry kicks the gun out of her hand and pulls her inside, blood trailing in her wake. He uses the jacket under Adam’s head to tie her arms and comes back to me.

“Y/N, let’s go. I hear sirens.” Harry bends down and gently lifts me up. I feel like a ragdoll in his arms but I manage to prop myself enough to walk beside him. He closes the door behind him and checks the handle that it was locked.

He helps me down onto a chair, the brightness of the lobby nearly blinds me, my migraine tearing my skull apart. I think I throw up on the floor, I felt entirely out of it. I keep my eyes closed, but I hear Harry letting in some people, and I feel arms putting me on a stretcher, taking me out into the cool air. The fresh air smelled incredible, and that’s the last thought I have before I pass out.

***H’s POV:

It was a crazy 24 hours.

Right before I’d been shoved into a 7′ by 5′ restroom, my team at the station had received the warrant for the credit card. That was the call I received that put me in the tiny room with Y/N. When I didn’t pick up, Detective Cole had taken the lead in tracing it. The credit card belonged to Adam’s cousin and they eventually traced him to Adam. That was the smoking gun for them, they tried me a few times. Finally, tracking my car to outside the bank. Suspicious, they sent out a few uniforms here and when they noticed my car sitting empty, and no guard at the entrance, they called for backup.

I’d debriefed, spoken and written out in detail, what happened. They’d taken pictures, handcuffed everyone in the bathroom, and I’d watched triumphantly as they walked the criminals out. Two had escaped after hearing the sirens, but at least two would be put away.

I drink my third coffee at the station now, when my supervisor finally comes in to talk to me. Tells me I could go home, finally. To get rest--the paramedics had checked me out and I was okay considering what just happened.

But instead of going home, I drive straight to the hospital where Y/N lay like a shell of herself. A tall bloke in a perfectly pressed suits stands above her, brushing her cheek. I watch as she reaches up and holds his hand, I watch him pull her hand up and kiss it. Then he leans down and kisses her bandaged forehead.

My stomach is in knots; I can’t look away. It was the same person who left her flat just this morning--god, this morning felt like years ago. It must be her boyfriend, but she didn’t mention she was seeing someone. Maybe it was casual, I think. But casual wouldn’t come to hospital like this, caress her like that.

The obvious was that I was lucky just to have a glimpse of her in my life again, long enough to clear the air between us. But I couldn’t hold on to her, when I let go so many years ago, I’d lost my grip entirely. And now she was out of my grasp.

I knock gently on the door, Y/N’s boyfriend (?) looks up.

“Sorry, the doctor doesn’t want anyone taking her statement right now-”

“I’m not-” I unclip my badge to show that I wasn’t there for my job. At the same time Y/N rests her hand on his arm.

“Alec,” she says in a hoarse voice. “It’s alright, that’s Harry.”

“Oh,” I can read everything in the two-letter word and the look he gives me. He seems to swallow what he really wanted to say and comes up to me to shake my hand instead. “Thanks, for helping Y/N tonight.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I grasp his hand, he had a strong handshake. Which was a stupid thing to think about I realise, as my eyes land on Y/N. She’s looking at him with a purity in her eyes that she used to look at me with. Something inside of me falls away, it feels raw and dark. I remove my hand from his, “Y/N’s a strong woman.”

“She is,” he looks at her with the same look she gives him. I felt like I should go, like I was interrupting them. But Y/N asks him to give us some space. He happily obliges, like I wasn’t even a threat to him. With what Y/N told him, everything she knew to be the truth before tonight, I didn’t blame him.

“Hi,” she says, she clears her throat, watching me watching her.

“How are you feeling?” I brush her hair back from the bandage on her head.

“Like there’s a rock concert in my head,” she jokes. “Except it’s mostly screaming.”

“Kind of like that one party we went to in uni,” I remind her.

“I thought the party’s theme was emo,” a laugh bursts out of her.

“It was screamo,” I laugh with her. “My ears were bleeding the next morning.”

“You crashed in my bed that night,” she remembers, her voice soft as the nostalgia washes over us. I take her hand in mine and brush my thumb over her knuckles. How times changed.

“You know, my girlfriend broke up with me that day when she found out I shared a bed with another girl.”

“Really?” She laughs again, twice in one conversation with me. She must be high on meds, or finally letting me in again. “You never told me that.”

“I never told you much about the girls I dated,” I say truthfully. “A lot of them dumped me after seeing how close we were. There was always that ultimatum: you or them.”

“Hm,” she hums. “I guess you chose me until you didn’t.”

We lock eyes and I open my mouth--to apologise? To explain something? But she waves her hand. “It’s a habit, I’ve got to get all the one-liners I’ve kept pent up out. I’ll be done eventually, don’t worry.”

“I look forward to that day,” I drum my fingers against the bed. “In the meantime...Alec?”

“Oh,” her face flushes as she looks out the door to where he stands on his phone. “Yeah. He’s been...really good, he came over as soon as he heard.”

“How long?” It was torture for me but it was like I needed to know.

“A few months, on and off again. I think I’ve just been keeping him at arm’s length because...well...”

“Us,” Once again, I’m reminded that I could never fully grasp the enormity of the damage I’d done. “He seems like a smart chap--he’s here for you after all.”

“That would make you a smart chap too,” she says which brings my attention back to her cheeky smile. “If you want to compliment yourself, you don’t have to do it in such a roundabout way.”

I laugh, she was good. She grins back at me and my breath catches, this feeling in my chest made me feel like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, the old fear of being unhappy had been creeping up on me ever since I got here and saw Alec with Y/N. Now it drapes over my shoulders like a heavy coat.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks.

“Nothing,” I sit on the edge of the bed. “Just thinking about everything that happened. And what we talked about.”

“I’m glad that we...” she picks at the thin blanket covering her body. “I feel like I have some closure now?”

“I wish I knew...what you thought this whole time. The baby and...everything.”

“I’ve got a long way to go but,” Y/N rubs my arm. “Let’s just agree to leave all the heavy stuff behind. And live our lives to the fullest. Almost dying in a men’s room has really given me perspective. We both deserve to be happy.”

“You should write a book,” I joke. “It would sell.”

“We can co-write it.”

“We’ll title it Bad Timing,” I say. “A memoir of two people, right place, wrong time.”

“That’s good!” She grasps my arm. “And you could write the whole thing and just give me credit.”

“I’m okay with that,” I would do anything for her.

“You’re the writer after all,” she smiles and it strikes me again, how deeply she knew me. I don’t know if anyone would ever know me the way she does. “Do you still write?”

“Not really,” I didn’t at all.

“I was remembering the other day how you used to leave post-its all over my room-”

“I remember that,” I remind her of a few of my famous ones including one I stuck on her back that said kiss me. She scolds me for that and I pretend to be sorry but she knows I’m not.

“I am sorry,” I say, resting my hand on her arm and she understands I’m not talking about the prank.

“I know,” she looks away, out the door to Alec.

“So I should go, maybe I’ll be the one to take your statement? Tomorrow--or I’ll have my best officer come in here for it.”

“You should take a day off,” she says. “We almost died today.”

“You’re one to talk,” I say. “And we were not going to die today. You’re so dramatic.” I flick her knee and she flinches.

“Ouch,” she milks her current position in the hospital bed, rubbing the spot on her knee.

“Did that hurt? I don’t remember any knee injuries in your file.” I lean down over her and pat it extra hard.

“You’re evil,” she grins but for a small second her eyes flicker down to my lips, and when they meet mine again they look uncertain.

“Alright. Rest up. I’ll see you...later.” I lean down, my lips ghost her cheek, and I hear her sigh. “Goodbye Y/N,” I say, and somewhere it feels final. I don’t dare look at her when I stand up. I walk out of the room, and out of her life.

I think back to the one other time I saw her before the bank robbery. It was outside a grocer, and she’d told me to never talk to her again. I was glad the universe or whatever hadn’t listened, that our lives had crashed into each other even though that meant that in the end she was left in hospital and I was left unhappy again, realizing what I was missing in life. But for a brief moment, in the grand expanse of this universe, we orbited each other again.

As I nod at Alec on the way out. I stand to the side as he walks back in. I hear him comforting her, and I hear her tell him she had to talk in a low voice. I leave then, with every intention to leave her alone. She deserved this happiness she was finally finding as she put our past to rest, she didn’t need uncertainty. As for myself, it felt like it was my burden to bear now; Y/N and I just had bad timing, it felt like, but I just wanted her to be happy. So I let her be; I let go.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #dci!harry #detective!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles angst #harry styles series #Finished Series #au #okay don't be mad about the ending #i only did what everyone asked #i'm also open to writing a 4th part #if this creates an angry mob #but this ending is also okay #anyway #that was a ride

[amlovelies]

38 or 2 for Cynthia

thank you for the prompt! I'm going to go with #38 "A person’s weight as they lie on top of you" I may have an idea for #2 with ric and vesper this is probably as close as I get to smut these days, but with a healthy dose of angst because of who I am as a person 🥰 sidestep days/preheartbreak and mild retribution spoilers. also fuck the new post editior because it keeps erasing all my indents. so I’d recommend reading this on ao3.

from this sensory prompts list

upon a razor's edge

fandom: fhr pairing: julia ortega/f!sidestep (Cynthia Basri) rating: M no smut but some heavy petting mention of dissociating words: 1.4k read on ao3

You’ve never been a hug fan of movies. The people on the screen too distant, no thoughts to touch, no impressions to get, so often you’ve misunderstood. Their motivations so hard to figure out, the hidden meaning behind their words impossible to decipher, but you still say yes when Ortega asks if you’d like to come over for dinner and a movie.

It’s something old: way before the big one, black and white, a relic of a different world. Dessert lays abandoned on the coffee table. Store bought, Ortega knew to play to their strengths, but even then, it had been too sweet, you’d only managed to eat half of it before giving up.

You’ve both migrated closer to the center of the couch, no longer safe in your corners. She’s close, so close, when did her arm go around your shoulders? You jump a little when her hand touches your leg, the touch is gentle, small absentminded movements, and you wonder if she even notices. Always so tactile, needing to touch, to connect, to hug with everyone. A slap on the back for Steel, a hug for Anathema, tossing an arm around Sunstream’s shoulders as she leave training. It means nothing to her. This closeness. You’d adjusted to it pretty well, no longer panicking and dancing away from her outstretched hands, until the kiss that was.

She keeps kissing you. You are sure you aren’t the only one she’s kissing, not with all the dates and events the tabloids are so happy to share, but it still feels special, personal. Maybe it’s because she’s the only person you’ve ever kissed. You can’t imagine ever kissing anyone else. Only Ortega would be stupid and stubborn enough to want to kiss you in the first place.

A glance, and she is looking at you, is she thinking of kissing you? You can’t tell. Anyone else and you could tell, but not her. Always a mystery.

You want her to. You shouldn’t, but you do. You’d never understood the saying about butterflies in your stomach, but you do now, the agitated swirling in your stomach like the fluttering of hundreds of wings matching the rapid beat of your heart. You keep waiting, waiting for her to bridge the gap like she always does. Her arm tightens a little on your shoulder and you draw in a quick breath, sure that any moment now she will move, but the only thing moving in her hand drawing small circles on your legs.

She’s not moving, just smiling at you with that smug look on her face like she’s the one with telepathy. Like she knows how badly you want. You want to scream, to push her away, to pull her closer, you can’t decide. You want her to take mercy on you and do something, Anything besides this waiting.

It feels like an eternity passes, but it’s probably only a moment or two, and then her lips are on yours. Soft, just a gentle pressure, which you answer with a hunger that surprises you both.

Her hand winds into your hair as she pulls you closer. The kiss deepening, leaving you grasping her arm for support. Firm muscles and the softness of her bare skin sliding under your palm.

She pushes forward, moving you backwards until your back hits the couch cushions and she is looming over you. A quiet gasp escapes you at the press of her body against yours. It’s overwhelming having her this close. It’s like standing outside during a storm. The crackling scent of ozone and the heady depths of her cologne mixing and filing your scenes. This is dangerous, but you feel so alive. She makes you feel alive.

You should push her away, but that would mean she stops touching you. You will have to stop it eventually, but not just yet. Your whole life is lived on the razor’s edge, why should this be any different?

She tastes like caramel. Just a hint of sweetness as she pulls your bottom lip into her mouth, the bite just sharp enough to make your body ache in ways you didn’t know it could.

Her mouth leaves your and you could cry from the loss, but then she is pressing hot wet kisses along your neck. A small moan escapes you as her lips press down on your pulse point and your hips twitch involuntarily. Her feel rather than hear her chuckle. She’ll be smug about this for sure, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The static in her brain must be contagious. Pushing in and swallowing any rational thought until you feel like a storm of sensations. Her hands leaving trails over your skin. Even through your clothes all your hairs stand on end, as if every part of you wants to be closer to her. Ortega is a force of nature. How are you supposed to resist that, resist her? How are you supposed to pretend you even want to?

Have you ever felt more human than you do with her hands on you? Like you actually are your body rather than just sitting in the driver’s seat. There’s nowhere for your consciousness to escape to, the little pieces of your mind that are usually on alert, finding nothing to grip onto retreating back into yourself. Forced back into your body, into the moment, and her. Maybe that’s why you can’t stop this. Why you can’t give up the madness that is kissing Ortega.

Your nerves sings as she passes her hand down your side. Her grip digs into your hip, pulling you closer, so close, nothing but clothing between you. Her leg is slotted in-between yours and you can feel the heat of her where she is straddling your thigh. She rocks her leg against you. Just a little, just enough to make you groan.

Her fingers dip under your shirt, seeking skin. God, you wish you could feel her skin against yours, but all she finds is your suit instead. Your last line of defense, because you can’t actually go through with this. No matter how much you want to. Her movements slow down in surprise and then stopping all together in recognition.

“Expecting a fight?” she asks with a laugh.

“Always,” you respond as you take to opportunity to sit up, to put some distance between the two of you.

She doesn’t understand that this is a fight. A fight against yourself and her smile. A fight that you can’t lose, and it got too close tonight. If you let yourself give into your desires it would mean losing her. It would mean losing the illusion of humanity that you cling to. Losing the self that you’ve built from the ground up.

She frowns a little as you shift position, but she doesn’t protest. She looks a little wild, her cheeks flushed and her lips kiss swollen. She’s so beautiful that it makes your heart clench. You still don’t understand what she could see in you.

Nothing. It’s probably just boredom. It’s easier to think now that she isn’t touching you. The movie is over and the credit are rolling. You missed the ending.

“It’s late. I should get going.”

“Not too late. We could make it a double feature,” your voice is sultry, tempting, and she reaches out to run a hand down your back. You want to stay. You want to stay and lose yourself in her touch, but instead you jerk away.

“Or not,” you can hear the confusion in her voice. You don’t blame her. You shouldn’t have let it go this far in the first place. Of course, she’s going to be confused.

You should have put a stop to it after the first kiss, you tried. You really did. Even considered leaving the city, but you’d stayed, so sure it was just a passing impulse on Ortega’s part. After all she was used to playing the field. It can’t mean anything to her.

You’re halfway to the door before you hear her call your name.

“Yeah?” you ask just glancing over your shoulder. You don’t trust yourself to turn around and face her. Not when you can still feel the ghost of her hands on your body. Not when you want to break so badly.

“Text me when you get home okay.”

“I will,” you promise.

The night air is cold and bracing. Exactly what you need. You tell yourself you’ll be more careful in the future. You won’t let things go so far.

You’re a liar.

tagging (aski to be added/removed) @lord-king-saint @lilyoffandoms @roses-and-roux

#thank you for the prompt! #ask #bunny loverxiv #lovelieswrites #sensory prompts #if: fhr #fhr ortega #oc: cynthia basri #ship: you’ll be her ruin #ship: chargestep #sidestep days #retribution spoilers #nsft

[jangmi-latte]

I heard you wanted help with a character analysis! I have come to help out, if I can! So, I have a question for you that may help out with at least one character we have information on, do you think Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or Jamil is lying to himself? If you wish, I can discuss it with you and help you come to a conclusion, I am more than happy to help you if you need it.

You know, I have been observing Jamil’s actions ever since Chapter 5 started. It has been very visible that this vice-dorm leader has gone through a lot and the fandom knows that for sure. It bothers me sometimes seeing some Jamil x Kalim one-shots where it focuses on Jamil being all friendly with Kalim – friendly in a way the servant master relationship doesn’t bother him when it’s the other way around. I hope this essay of mine helps out expound on Kalim and Jamil’s relationship starting from pre-enrollment to post-enrollment. Before I jump straight into the main question, I’ll slowly expound on Jamil’s progress throughout the Scarabia Arc towards Pomefiore’s Arc.

i would also love to created the TWISTED WONDERLAND WIKIA and for the translators who are behind this site for providing the translations. this analysis won't be complete without them. it has been a very big help.

do note this analysis is NOT SPOILER-FREE so if you don’t wanna get spoiled, this meal is not for your dear customer.

01. Jamil’s freedom

First, let’s differentiate how Jamil acts with and without Kalim around. In most of the main and personal stories, Jamil was always with Kalim. In one instance – like in his PE card – we have seen Jamil without Kalim around. We can see how Jamil has a tendency to be bossy and how he has a way with words in terms of helping Floyd with his desire to do a headstand. Yes, he may have shown this personality around Kalim, however, it is noted how Jamil didn’t hold back into explaining to Floyd (very detailed at that) about the one thing he’s good at. Until he has caught himself again and realized he spoke too much.

We can see how Jamil desperately wants to share who he really was (his talents, his ideologies, etc.) to others, something he couldn’t show when he’s around Kalim.

He said it himself, “my inner dancing soul started to ache…” which is why he shared his own thoughts.

“Ahem! …It’s nothing. When I went out with Kalim in the past, there were occasions where I did a bit of dancing.” He held back again just because Kalim was mentioned. Ace even mentioned how it wasn’t A BIT of what Jamil did in dancing.

It’s obvious how Jamil actually wanted to dance more and teach Floyd what he’s good at except Ace mentioned how it was a basketball club and not a dance club. It’s clear how he’s used to adjusting himself and hold back with what he wants to do. We’re just glad Floyd somehow persuaded that made Jamil show his real self.

Do note how Floyd complimented Jamil when he did a handstand and how happy he must’ve felt about himself.

He was willing, his own choice, to teach Floyd and NOT because he’s obligated to like he was around Kalim. He even shared what techniques he could do.

In his voice lines, we can see how Jamil actually wants to be more powerful. Not like that’s already not obvious, however, there was always the resentment of holding back. He wanted to enjoy himself, as noted in Fairy Gala where he went all out and didn’t hold back, and in Dances and Wishes where he mentioned that he wanted to travel alone. In one of his groovy lines, he said “Sometimes it’s nice to just forget about everything and enjoy yourself. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.”

HE DOESN’T WANT TROUBLE ANYMORE!!! Please, give this man a break, he really hates getting into other people’s business. Let alone getting dragged into them. Why is this under his freedom category? Because anywhere Kalim is, there will always be trouble. Meaning, not only is his safety in the line but also the way he acts. Stiff, robot-like, servant, guardian, you say it. Is Jamil one of those? No.

He always tries to find something beneficial with being around Kalim. Dancing, for example. He stated that whether he likes it or not, Jamil has eventually found fun in dancing and let alone develop strength just by chasing him around.

It has always been mentioned how Jamil is good at cooking and I even read that his kitchen is his go-to when he's stressed and whatnot. But let's remember that Jamil DOESN'T really likes cooking that much. He's only obligated to do so. He mentioned it in his SSR dorm uniform voice lines. Don't associate him with the kitchen too much. 

He ALWAYS mentions Kalim!!! In every voice line, in every personal story, hell, even the main story, there wouldn't be ONE instance where he wouldn't mention Kalim. Why? That's what he was born to do. To always mention his master, to mention his position, to keep the focus away from him and move it towards who he's serving. That's his life. Imagine his happiness when he finally gets a chance to shine on his own.

Connecting to the previous paragraph, either Jamil notices it or not, he consciously and subconsciously lies to himself and to others — except to those who have Asim as their last name. We all know Jamil would go boast about his intelligence, skills, and talents when he wants to and as noted in his overblot, he didn't hold back (he was in a state of no control, yes, but when someone overblots they most often spill what they were truly feeling deep down). Yet, Jamil has grown accustomed into lying to himself and to others that, "This is what I can only do. This is what I am for, etc." He always belittles himself to others and it wasn't a choice of his. 

I noticed how Jamil would always say he doesn't want to stand out and I couldn't point out whether this includes him lying to himself or he genuinely just doesn't like attention. Why this confuses me is because he said he wanted to be number one and known for his own talents yet he doesn't like standing out. I would assume that he wants to be known for who he is in a way of recognition and not by any loud or crowd settling attention. 

Now, Jamil often jokes about "I'm the master now, serve me" in his SSR birthday card and it's easy to point out that (1) he isn't used to attention being placed on him and he's growing accustomed to it, (2) it's a form of control mechanism for him that he knows he's still a servant despite getting such privilege for a day. He is used to his position but that doesn't mean he won't fight for what he wants/believes. After all, Kalim already told him and he's slowly trying to do so without breaking his position still.

02. Jamil’s relationship with Kalim (post-overblot) 

Jamil has vocally stated his hatred for Kalim which happened after his overblot. He doesn’t want to be friends, he doesn’t want ANYTHING that involves being with Kalim. He is there solely for the purpose of being a servant and to finish school. Just like I stated, Jamil tries to find benefits with being around Kalim, whether he likes it or not, he is getting a good dose of education, a good shelter, food, etc. Even though Jamil wants not only him but his family as well to get out of the traditional servant position, he knows he doesn’t have the power to do so. My only conclusion here is that Jamil has very limited choices and that he knows that he has to endure Kalim maybe a bit longer.

Now, this is where we start answering the main question, does Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or is he lying to himself? The answer is no – in the prospect of hating Kalim. BUT the most logical answer I could give is that Jamil is slowly warming up (VERY SLOWLY) to Kalim AND NOT HIS FAMILY’S POSITION. Those are two different things:

Jamil’s obligation is to look after Kalim, feed him, protect him, teach him, etc. That’s what he hates. What I’m trying to say here is that Jamil still cares about Kalim. Why do I say this? Notice in the Fairy Gala event, not only did he prove himself to the audience and to Vil but he also was having fun. Despite the harsh training he went through, I believe those smiles he shared with Kalim showed the progress in their relationship with each other.

In Chapter 5-34, we can see Kalim talking about how he was poisoned and mentioned he doesn’t like the idea of the culprit (whoever plans to poison him)  never apologizing when he ever was poisoned. Based on Jamil’s silence, what he probably felt was guilt. He never apologized for what he did but he knew what he did was wrong. At the beginning chapters of Chapter 5, he did explain what happened between him and the dorm students and how he’ll just stick to Kalim from now on. He despises Kalim’s sweet, sunshine, nature because he’s the exact opposite. He knows he’s the villain, he knows he can’t accept Kalim’s personality due to his nature. Kalim’s too nice, Jamil isn’t, they go well together and he (Jamil) doesn’t want to do anything with it. Let Kalim live his own life, he’ll live his.

“We’re not friends, remember…?” Remember Jamil’s tendency to lie? He’s lying to himself. He always tries to make himself hate Kalim but he can’t.

Want to be even more convinced? Chapter 5-30, why would Jamil eavesdrop on MC and Kalim’s conversation? He’s watching over Kalim, yes, but what do you think he felt after hearing Kalim finally learn? Don’t you think he felt relieved? I know for sure he won’t feel guilt over that, all he wanted was for Kalim to be aware of their differences and to be independent. That’s what’s happening to Kalim right now.

Ah, additional to that, the Halloween event. Jamil checked on Kalim, didn’t he? He trusted Kalim on his own. He was actually smiling when Ace pointed out how he keeps checking his phone. He was only checking on Kalim, okay, but please. The trust he actually placed on Kalim was big. Improvement in friendship.

Concerning his position, that’s the sole thing Jamil wants to change. That has always been his goal. To change his family’s position as servant, get a break, have freedom. Who knows? If Jamil ever did get what he wanted, he might go back to Kalim. He’s hard to read.

Conclusion:

I wanted to expound more on the depth of their relationship but this post has gotten too long. To keep it short, Jamil is still contemplating to himself. We can’t instantly jump into the ‘yes and no’ into his hatred for we are still ongoing with Pomefiore’s chapter which will unfold more of their relationship. He somehow hates Kalim but doesn’t in a way of personality and ideology, not the whole person himself. He also hates his position but again, Jamil did something wrong and he knows it. They’re both still learning, they’re both still progressing throughout their relationship. I hope this analysis answered your question! It was fun ^^.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland character analysis #jamil viper #kalim al asim #scarabia

[spencers-renaissance]

All Roads Lead Home

Summary: Spencer's working the Christmas Eve shift when a young boy with a hurt arm comes into the ER. Nothing out of the ordinary, except his rather flirty dad and leaving later with an extra phone number in his contacts list...

Tags: fluff, hospital au, christmas fic, first date, getting together, gentleman aaron, soft spencer

Pairing: Hotch x Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Spencer’s never really minded the Christmas Eve shift in the ER: it’s often fairly quiet, only the odd accident here and there to one extent or the other, what with most people holed up at home with family by now. Everyone working tries to make it as jolly as possible, nurses wearing elf hats and wrangling as many doctors into santa ones as possible, and Christmas music plays on the hospital radio. Plus, it’s something for him to do. He usually spends Christmas Day with his friends, but Christmas Eve can be long and drawn out, so spending it at the hospital helping people is the perfect solution, really. The bonus pay doesn’t hurt either.

It certainly proves to be true when he pulls open the curtain to treatment four to reveal a criminally attractive man and his son who’s clearly in quite a state, tears streaming down his face as he heaves great big sobs. 

“Hi,” he says, deciding to focus on the situation at hand and not the ruggedly sexy man trying to calm his son down, “I’m Dr Reid, how can I help?”  

“Well, Jack got a little over-excited when playing with his friends earlier,” the man explains, ruffling his son’s hair gently, “and slipped in the snow. He’s in quite a lot of pain so I thought it was best to get it checked out today so we can enjoy Christmas properly tomorrow.” He smiles fondly down at Jack before looking back up at Spencer hopefully.

“I’m sure we can get it all figured out in no time,” Spencer says reassuringly before bending down slightly to level himself with Jack, who's cradling his arm protectively. “Okay, buddy, do you mind if I have a little look at that arm there?” 

As soon as he tries to reach for Jack’s arm, he sobs even harder begging him not to touch it, so Spencer decides to switch tactics. “Hey, Jack, do you want to see a magic trick?” he asks encouragingly. 

Even through his tears, Jack nods eagerly, so Spencer wastes no time in showing him one of his favourite tricks, instantly captivating him with his deft hand movements, distracting him enough to slow down his sobs. By the time he’s pulling a penny from behind his ear, Jack’s cries have calmed down enough for him to smile excitedly. 

He takes the opportunity to conduct his examination as quickly as possible, noting how much pain Jack seemed to be in. “Now, you’ve been quite the brave little soldier but how about I get you some medicine for the pain, hey?” 

He waits for Jack’s nod before looking to the nurse working with him and requesting 25mcgs of fentanyl. “We’ll start with a relatively low dose but if Jack’s still in pain after that we can adjust it to make him as comfortable as possible okay?” Spencer says, checking to make sure they’re both happy before administering the medicine. “Now, we need to get you up to radiology to do an x-ray just to check if there’s a fracture, but until then, hang tight. You did so well, Jack.” He gives both of them a warm smile before walking up to the nurses’ station and ordering the exam. 

He doesn’t give the interaction much more thought until an hour later when he’s stood at the vending machine suddenly desperate for a coffee and craving something sweet. “Oh, Dr Reid!”

Spinning round to see who called him, he sees Jack’s father a few metres away, walking up to him. “Mr Hotchner, hi,” he says, smiling a little. “How’s Jack doing?”

“He’s just getting his cast on actually,” he explains, matching Spencer’s smile. “Turns out it was fractured after all, but with the pain medicine kicking in, he wanted to be a big boy and have it done without daddy there.” 

“Well, as soon as he gets back to school, he’ll be king of the playground,” Spencer points out. “These sorts of things end up actually making most kids happy in a funny kind of way.” 

“Ah, he’s already brainstorming how to get the most signatures possible,” he replies, shaking his head with a fond smile lighting up his face. “I wanted to thank you, actually, for being so good with Jack earlier. You really helped calm him down.”

“Oh, please, it’s not a problem!” Spencer says, waving a hand. “Kids are the best part of this job. Getting to flex my magic muscles is just as fun for me” 

“No, seriously, it meant a lot to me. Let me buy you a coffee?”

“Oh… Mr Hotchner, you really don’t need to--”

“Call me Aaron,” he interjects, grinning invitingly. “And I really do insist.”

Well. How could Spencer say no to that? He absolutely does not check Aaron’s left hand for a wedding ring as he lets himself be guided to a table in the cafeteria, but he can’t even feel guilty about it because Aaron’s giving him a certain kind of look that holds promises, and damn if that doesn’t stir something in Spencer’s gut, a spark of unfettered excitement shooting down his spine. 

“Thank you,” Spencer says earnestly as Aaron comes back from the counter with two coffees and pastries, “this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re a saint for working on Christmas Eve,” he replies warmly. “And you’ve made what could’ve been a pretty rotten day much better, so it’s the least I could do.” 

“Well, I appreciate it,” Spencer smiles, looking down at his hands wrapped tightly around his coffee cup bashfully for a moment. “So, what are your plans for Christmas?”

“We keep it lowkey,” Aaron says after a mouthful of hot coffee. “A nice slow morning of treats and toys before we head to my late wife’s family’s house for a meal and presents in the evening.”

“That sounds lovely,” he replies, choosing to brush past the mention of Aaron’s late spouse; in his experience that only tends to make things awkward. “I’m sure Jack appreciates still seeing that side of his family.”

“Oh, he does,” he chuckles in response. “But so do I, I’m not that close with my own family so having a relationship with Haley’s really means a lot to both of us. Anyway, what about you?”

“I spend Christmas with my friends, actually. My mother lives in Las vegas, but it’s kind of hard to see her anyway,” Spencer says, decidedly not elaborating on that. “Most of my friends have family living out of state or no family at all, so we all go to Derek’s and spend it there, it’s actually a really nice tradition.”

“Definitely,” Aaron agrees. “Well, since we’re both occupied tomorrow, how do you feel about going to dinner with me after Christmas?”

“Really?” Spencer asks, suddenly feeling a little shy. 

“Of course,” Aaron says, face open in a refreshing kind of way. “That is, if you want to. There’s obviously no pressure, but I’d really like to take you out.”

“No, I definitely want to,” Spencer says quickly, reaching out a hand across the table to brush Aaron’s on instinct, the embarrassment he feels once he realises what he’s done dissipating when Aaron interlocks their fingers, keeping him close. “I was just surprised, is all. Spend Christmas with your family, but I’d love to see you afterwards.”

“Perfect,” Aaron smiles warmly. “Hand me your phone?”

⭐️

The rest of his shift flies by and Spencer spends Christmas in a much better mood than he has done in years. His friends needle him for details but it sort of feels sacred, he doesn’t want to say how he feels out loud, much less what he hopes for lest he jinx it. It’s on Boxing Day that his phone chimes with a text. He’s in the kitchen putting together a sandwich full of Christmas leftovers, but he abandons it in an instant as hope flares in his chest. 

Hope you had a good Christmas. Tell me about it at dinner tomorrow night? - Aaron

He can’t stop a ridiculous smile from spreading across his lips, but he can’t find the heart to care; he hasn’t felt like this for a long time, the idea of spending more time with such an intriguing person who seemed to hold so many possibilities excited him beyond belief. 

Absolutely. Pick me up at 7? - S

Shoot me your address. - Aaron

The 27th of December passes in much the way it always does, languid and lazy, but it feels even more tortuous this year with the promise of a romantic dinner with Aaron Hotchner, the man who managed to make him feel so much in such a short period of time, the man who set his tummy fluttering the second he lay eyes on him. 

Eventually, though, 7 rolls around and Aaron knocks on his door perfectly on time. He pulls the door open to reveal him impeccably dressed, wearing a fond, private little smile on his face. 

“Hi,” Spencer says, trying to seem somewhat intelligent and put together despite the mush his insides are currently melting into.

“Hey,” Aaron says softly. “You look gorgeous.”

Spencer flushes immediately at that, looking down at his toes to escape the intensity of Aaron’s gaze. “So do you,” he manages finally, voice a little strangled. “Ready to go?”

Aaron drives them to a cosy little Italian restaurant on the edge of town, and Spencer immediately falls in love with the quiet, intimate atmosphere and the beautiful Christmas decorations still covering the room from head to toe. He pulls out his chair for him, making sure he’s settled before rounding the table to his own seat, the very picture of a gentleman, and Spencer thinks with a little sadness weighing on his heart that his mother would love him. 

“This is perfect, Aaron, thank you,” he says sincerely as he continues to observe his surroundings, immediately feeling comfortable with the other man. 

“Of course. You have to get started on the right foot,” he grins, a joking glint taking root in his eyes. “Especially if you have serious intentions.” 

“You have serious intentions with me?” Spencer asks curiously, tilting his head a little as he implores Aaron with wide eyes.

“Well, yes,” Aaron says slowly, “but don’t feel any pressure if you don’t feel the same, I’m happy to just see where things go…” 

“Hey, no, I definitely do,” Spencer rushes to clarify, reaching out to touch Aaron’s hand just as he did in the hospital. “I’m sorry, I keep messing that up.” He huffs out a little laugh as he averts his eyes.

“Don’t apologise,” Aaron says, voice warm and inviting and Spencer just wants to fold into him, give in already. “We’re still getting used to each other and our mannerisms and the way we approach things; that’s the whole point of dating. I’m just happy that we’re here getting started.”

Spencer feels his body relax at Aaron’s words, melting into the reassuring comfort of his presence. “Me too,” he says, and he means it. 

They both eat pasta to a background of quiet hustle and bustle and elegant instrumental Christmas music, and they click even more than they did at the hospital, quickly settling into easy and interesting conversation. By the time the waiter comes over with the bill, they’re both full and satisfied, glasses of wine empty and plates cleared. Aaron insists on getting it this time and after he’s paid, he takes Spencer’s hand and they head towards the door together.

Before they can actually leave, however, an older woman comes up to them. “You’re standing under the mistletoe,” she winks, pointing upwards. They both follow her finger, and sure enough a sprig of mistletoe is hung right above them. By the time Spencer looks back towards Aaron, he’s already looking at him with an air of intention. 

“May I?” he murmurs, and Spencer just smiles shyly and nods, feeling Aaron’s lips pressed gently against his own the very next second. 

It’s a relatively short first kiss, they are stood in the middle of a public restaurant after all, but it doesn’t make Spencer feel any less dizzied by it, completely overwhelmed by how good it felt having Aaron that close to him, his hands on his waist as they melted into one another. 

The lady’s gone by the time they come back to reality and open the door onto the cold street, and Spencer’s fairly sure that he’s dreaming because this only happens in films right? But he’s snapped out of his doubtful thoughts when Aaron wraps his arm around his waist, bodies pressed closely against one another, because nothing’s ever felt more real than this.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez 

#hotchreid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #aaron hotchner/spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #hotchreid fic #hotchreid writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #hotchreid au #hotchreid fluff #hotchreid christmas #christmas fic #criminal minds christmas #my writing

[tobiosmilktea]

she looked like a virtue — kozume kenma

1.9k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: — | pairing: kenma x f! reader

↪︎ in which kozume kenma pines for his neighbor from beyond his bedroom window

okay, so maybe it was a bit creepy to watch someone through their bedroom window, but kenma truly didn’t mean any harm. really, he didn’t. if anything it was just a mere spur in the moment of serendipities that you—the girl who hated closing her blinds because it blocked out the pretty sunlight—was his cure for boredom.

whenever his eyes would burn from staring at the computer too long, or if he was just too burnt out to play anymore video games or even watch tv, his eyes would settle upon your windowsill. often times you were dancing in your room alone to 80s pop music or painting the landscape outside all cause you wanted to. it was enough to ease him into relaxation yet entertaining enough that he never got bored of what you do.

kenma despised how this immediately landed a target on his back if he were to ever get caught. ‘peeping tom’ would forever be hovering over his head if you were to ever notice his stares of admiration from afar. granted, you never really did like closing your blinds despite it’s dangers, but you weren’t dumb either. sometimes kenma would like to think that if he were ever to get caught, you wouldn’t be so blatantly creeped out as you both went to nekoma. besides, you’re well aware that he was your neighbor as well. it was just a matter whether or not you would notice how conviniently placed his mattress is to be in front of his window.

if you were to ever-so-slightly pivot your head by the inch, your eyes would immediately find kenma’s probing irises. perhaps you would scream and close your blinds for the first time ever, or maybe you just wouldn’t care.

maybe you liked the idea of being watched by him.

besides, kenma had his PSP with him just in case your lingering gaze would finally fall upon him and he would at least have some way of looking nonchalant as possible.

he didn’t have any cruel intentions. no perverted antics, no keeping track of secrets, no way of gaining intel for blackmail—it was all just pure fascination for a girl he had always found pretty.

this was something he would never verbalized even if he was paid a million dollars worth of cash. in fact, the only other person who knew about this hobby of his (god, that sounds so creepy, kenma cringed to himself) was kuroo. being his best friend, who else would he be able to tell this habit he knew he couldn’t keep to himself without bursting? he felt a bit guilty if he couldn’t at least tell the person he trusts the most.

“i still think it’s a bit suspect of you to be doing this so often,” kuroo would say whenever he was in kenma’s bedroom, twirling a disk of the game they were supposed to play earlier, but kenma was too caught up in watching your gracefulness hues of choosing which novel to read next.

kenma could only sigh as he forced his gaze to be ripped away from you. “i know. it’s become a habit, i think.”

“what?” the onyx-haired boy mused, “stalking?”

scoffing, kenma strolled to kuroo and took the disk out of his hand before placing it in the gaming console. “i think you mean admiration.”

“you call that admiring?”

“you can admire someone from afar,” kenma defends as the opening noises of Street Fighter emit from the television screen.

he swiftly hands kuroo a controller as they both settle themselves side by side in from of the screen. silence filled the void between the two volleyball players as they spent a good five minutes on the character selection screen. it was mainly kenma who could decide between Vega and Cammy, to which he eventually forced himself to toss a coin to choose.

“i think you should just talk to her,” suggests kuroo out of the blue as the first found starts.

the sounds of smashing buttons and joysticks filled the room as the virtual fight ensued. kenma kept quiet as eventually his efforts to focus on the game slipped, giving victory to kuroo.

kenma placed his controller down as he walked to his bed. plopping himself right onto the mattress, the boy quickly sighs. “i don’t think i can do that.”

furrowing his brows, kuroo stands as he sits beside his best friend. “and why’s that?”

“i think she’d be weirded out by it, honestly.” answered kenma.

“i mean... you don’t have to tell her that you’ve been watching her.”

the setter shook his head, “it doesn’t matter. knowing the fact that we’ve barely interacted in school outside of projects, i think she’d find it strange that someone she barely talks to even likes her.”

a hum of understanding leaves kuroo’s lips as he sighs. “i still think what i said stands. you don’t have to tell her how you feel just yet.”

kenma stares up upon his blank white ceiling, eyes blinking to a nonspecific beat. the sun’s rays shining through his window, his eyes adjusted with the amount of light entering his irises as he peered over to your window. you were sitting at your desk reading. oh how angelic you looked, in all your glory of serene silence. you were the cause of his quickening heart beat, yet you were his calming disposition in a mere juxtaposition.

“y/n has always been really into 80s films,” kuroo starts again as kenma’s gaze never left you. “in a lot of those romcom films, the guy usually throws something at the girl’s window to get her attention. maybe you could start there.”

a beat had passed as kenma considered the plan.

“i don’t think i would have anything to say if i were to do that.” he muttered lazily, “i’d be too stunned.”

how whipped, kuroo thought to himself as he inaudibly chuckles. “just say whatever feels right in the moment.”

“like?”

“flirt with her!”

“that’s not going to end well, kuroo.”

kenma hated how his thoughts were as restless as him. it was nighttime, midnight... maybe, but all he knew was that it was late and he had residual energy he needed to extrude. it wasn’t a form of adrenaline like during volleyball games where nekoma was at the cusp of winning—no, it was something else. his body was well beyond fatigued, but his mind was surging in endless obscurity.

perhaps it started the moment your dim bedroom suddenly lit up by the slightest illumination of your desk lamp. you stay at you desk doing something that kenma couldn’t exactly see as he was laying flat upon his bed. it was as though kuroo’s plan of potentially winning your heart over by actions primarily used in the 80s was causing his heart palpitations.

surely it didn’t help his situation the moment you lifted yourself from your seat and approached your window. kenma felt his heart jump into throat when you fiddled with your window lock and pushed your windows open.

“kenma?” you whispered loudly.

his usual relaxed eyes widened in shock as you continued to call out his name.

“kenma?” you said again. it was like music to his ears knowing that you did in fact know his name (how could you not? he’s literally on the volleyball team). “are you awake?”

as if the setter was paralyzed, he still laid there in absolute surprise. in his mind, his thoughts spiraled into oblivion. coursing through his veins was the possibility of him getting up was a good idea or not, but of course it was a good idea. kenma’s worries about starting a conversation with you was started by you! so why wasn’t he getting up?

hesitance pumped throughout his body as he continued to stare at you. you were waiting for his response, but you weren’t exactly optimistic on him answering. it was way past midnight and no lunatic would even bother waking up just because someone was at their window.

a disappointed sigh escaped your lips as you pursed them. perhaps tonight wasn’t the best idea of asking the setter for a favor that was totally out of his league. yet to both of your surprises, the sound of an unlocking window captured your attention. beneath the moonlight, kenma appears from the dimness of his bedroom with a nervous look on his face.

“y/n,” he almost whispers, “um. what did you want to say?”

your breath hitched at the realization with thousands of monarch butterflies tickling their way through your gut as you roughly swallowed. “i wanted to ask if you wanted to climb on our roofs and talk. it’s a full moon tonight too.”

kenma’s mouth ran agape slightly as he struggled to find the correct words to leave his lips. “i-um—”

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to, kenma.” you swiftly cut in, “you can go to sleep if you wan—”

“no,” the setter answers just as fast, “i’ve always wanted to talk... with you.”

you found his nervous chuckles cute as you two climbed to the roof of your respective houses. tokyo at night seemed utterly serene with the chirping cicadas and the silent streets. granted, you were in the suburbs and a ways away from the actual city.

your gaze lingered upon the moonlight reflecting off the city's skyscrapers far off into the distance, resonating and refracting off the infrastructure's angles until they shined luminous fractals upon your face and dosed in a baby blue hue. tokyo never seemed to rest unlike the near-silent nights in this area. the sight was breathtaking, to say the least, but kenma was looking at you rather than the city.

kenma’s eyes tried wandering elsewhere than you before him, yet he was locked in admiration at the moment of stillness of just you and him.

the spiraling skies above you two almost looked synthetic with lavender-candied hues sprayed amongst the painted heavens. it appeared unreal to the eyes of two teenagers of the busy and crowded streets of tokyo, where every corner you turn would be colored with neon lights. the scattering constellations and stars that playfully hovered above them were something you and kenma never really seen before (properly at least now that they were finally outside).

“you know,” you started, breaking the silence into oblivion, and yet your voice was still soft in the humming midnight breeze. “you’re not as slick as you think you are.”

kenma’s mouth ran dry as he blinked innocently at you. “what do you mean?”

you chuckled slightly, the corners of your lips curling into a smile that instantly filled kenma’s heart with warmth. “it’s always the quiet ones who are the most observant.

the setter gulped. he knew and it was game over for him.

“it’s okay, i don’t mind you looking at me sometimes.” you suddenly confess as kenma’s gaze snaps towards you, “which sounds weird, but it’s whatever.”

“you’re not mad?” he asks gently to which you shake your head.

“honestly, i’m just confused on how you find me so interesting.” you paused, “why?”

“because you look like a virtue.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma imagines #kenma scenario #kenma fluff #hq kenma #kenma au

[notyetneedcoffee]

Wild Call

Part of the Calling Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Loads of lovely smut!

“Please...” You practically whined into the phone. Bucky’s thick rich chuckle made you bite your lip. “Come on. Just for a minute.”

“Doll.” His voice dropped an octave. “We’ve only got another thirty minutes and we’ll be in a conference room together. It’s not that long until you can see me in person.”

“But it’s a meeting.” You sighed, teasing. “Are you saying you want to whisper filthy words in my ear until I come all over my hand in front of everyone at a meeting.”  

“Doll...”

“Work me up until I’m a desperate mess, and beg you to throw me on the table a fuck me hard.” You heard him growl deep. “Let them all see that I’m yours, only yours. Claim me before everyone until I come so hard that flood over your cock and scream your name.”

Bucky’s voice growled out, a rough whisper. “Cruel, woman. You know I’m not alone and can’t get away. I’m going to make you pay.”

“Mmm.” You purred. “Promise.”  

“Vixen.” He hung up.

You had so much work, but you just wanted to lock yourself in Bucky’s quarters and tie him down.  

The volume roiling out of the conference room nearly had you turning on your heels and blowing off the whole meeting. The entire day, every little thing, seemed to getting more and more on your nerves.  Nothing went easy. Every lab test some how screwed up. Even F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded argumentative.  

“Hey doc!” Tony called out when you came in. “Are we going to call it the Feel Rage Flu or the Hulk-lite Virus.”

“Not funny.” Banner moaned, despite Sam and Clint’s snickering.

“In actuality, it doesn’t just seem to affect the amygdala. There is a whole cascade of biochemical reactions. So, the hyper-rage your captive experienced could well have been any number of other strong emotional reactions.” You slapped folder on the table. “However, it’s is an engineered virus. Feel free to come up with some witty bullshit name for that if you’d like.”

“You okay, doc?” Sam’s smile fell away.

“Sorry.” You dropped into your chair. “Sorry, Tony. I’m just having one of those days, and now my head is splitting.”

“No worries.” Tony nodded.  

Steve and Bucky joined the group last. Cap moved to a seat near Tony at the head of the table, but Bucky slipped into the seat beside you. He rolled his chair close to you, knees spread wide to practically encompass you.  

You breathed deep and instantly felt better as his scent filled your head. He’d showered since you’d seen him that morning, you could smell the soap he kept in the locker room. Bucky’s left hand settled on the back of your neck, cool and comforting. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Doll,” His breath whispered against your ear. “I’m going to get back at you.” He expected a flush or jab back. Instead you just squeezed his knee. “You okay?”

“Headache.” You glanced over. His eyes were so blue, intense on just you. So gorgeous. “Better now.” He gave you that radiant smile. Your stomach fluttered. The urge to crawl up on his lap and bury your face in his neck felt nearly overwhelming.  

“Doc,” Tony’s voice pulled your attention away. “You don’t agree with Bruce. It could be contagious.”

“Um, yeah.” You realized you’d missed part of the meeting. “I know the numbers are infinitesimal but given the right genetic disposition and exposure. Yes, it could be contagious. Thankfully, it seems to react to a treatment Dr. Cho developed last year. I’ve set F.R.I.D.A.Y. to synthesizing a few doses. It will be done tomorrow.”

“Is he still, um, combative?” Steve asked about the enemy agent brought in four days ago who exhibited the crazed behavior. He’d been shot four times and Steve broke his right forearm and left femur before he went down.

“We’re keeping him sedated.” Banner mumbled.  

“Every time he’s brought out of it at all, he thrashes and screams. We’re not going to get any useful information out of him until he’s given this treatment.” Natasha answered more clearly.  

“Well, no one is claiming him. No one his taking credit for the attack either.” Steve tapped his fingers absently on the table. “What have we found about the equipment we recovered?”

They began comparing notes on the evidence collected at the scene of the attack. You lost track as your hand slid over Bucky’s leg. He had the best thighs, strong and muscular. When your fingers, tightened and massaged into the muscle, Bucky adjusted his hips. You bit your lip, moving your hand higher.

His hand covered yours, halting your progress. You looked up, Bucky’s face betrayed nothing but the pupils of his were wider. A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Fuck, he was gorgeous. Your fingers entwined with his as you thought about running you tongue along that sharp jaw, sucking on that soft lower lip, teasing that talented tongue of his.  

“Doll.” Bucky leaned closer whispering. “You’re flush, babe, looking a little glassy. Do you have a migraine coming on or something? You want me to take you to lie down?”

“Yes.” You whispered back, eyes never leaving his mouth. “Bed would be good.”

He stood, making an excuse and led you from the room. Following, still holding his hand, you remained quiet until you were alone in the elevator. The moment the doors closed, you leaned against him and tucked your face into his neck. Your free hand slid over his tight abs and tugged at his Henley until your fingers touched flesh.

“Whatcha doing, Doll?” Bucky’s arm circled around you, holding you close. “Thought your head was hurting.”

“Feeling better.” You purred, cupping him through his jeans. “I’m pretty sure with a little help I could feel amazing.”

The elevator doors opened and you pulled him toward his suite. You heard his quiet chuckle, but you just wanted to make him moan. As soon as the door closed, you wound your fingers in his hair and pulled his face down to meet yours. His mouth moved to kiss you playfully, but you nipped his lower lip and slid your tongue along his.  

Bucky inhaled deep, pulling you closer. Yes. His body was solid, warm. Pulling his shirt, you broke away long enough to tug it over his head. “Fuck,” you licked and kissed your way across his powerful chest. “You are so sexy.”

“Doll,” Bucky sighed as you pulled at his belt.  

“I want you to fuck me hard.” You looked up, smiling. “But I want to ride one of these amazing thighs first.”    

His brow arched, smiling, as he let you lead him to the sofa by the belt. You slipped his belt off, and undid his jeans, but pushed him to a sitting positing before removing them. He watched as you shed your clothes, quickly tossing everything aside.  

When you crawled up to straddle his right thigh, one hand rested on his shoulder and the other dipped between your own legs. Soaking wet, you gathered slick on your fingers before bringing them to Bucky’s lips. His tongue flicked out, tasting you once before his hand encircled your wrist and sucked your fingers into his mouth.

With a moan, you rubbed yourself against his powerful thigh. The denim harsh but heaven against your sensitive flesh. Riding, rubbing harder, you began to soak his leg. Bucky’s hands kneaded the flesh of your ass as he watched you, mouth open and eyes dark.

“Damn, Doll.” He breathed. “You gonna come for me right here?”

“Yes,” You panted, touching his chest and tasting his neck. “God, I love the way you feel, the way you smell.” You licked his lips. “The way you taste.”

His left hand wound in your hair and he kissed you hard. You ground yourself into his thigh, setting you on fire. Tension coiled low in your belly. Bucky’s other hand pulled at your nipple. You shook, moaning into his mouth. Moving desperately, rutting hard, you began to shake.

Bucky’s hand pulled your hair tighter. “Yes.”

Fire flared over you. Everything snapped. Shaking, coming hard, you soaked his thigh.

“Hell, yes.” Bucky kissed you deep and slow.

But you pressed against him, turning the kiss desperate. “Yes. Fuck yes. More. Bucky, fuck me hard.”

You slid from his lap, tugging off his shoes and socks before coaxing him to lift his hips. He chuckled and your hurried attempt to get him naked. When you took him in your mouth, taking him deep, it changed to a feral growl.  

He tasted so good. The smell of him made your mouth water, drool soaking his cock and rolling down your chin. Silky soft skin over steel. Powerful, long, thick, irresistibly male. You felt your cunt clench, so turned on by sucking his cock.  

Your hand slipped down, only barely needing to rub your clit before you were coming again.

“Oh fuck, Babe.” Bucky pulled you up by the arms to kiss you again. “Holy shit.”

“Bucky.” You whined, touching, rubbing. “I need more. Fuck me.”    

He flipped you around, on your knees and pushing you into the back of sofa. Hands dug into your ass cheeks, pulling them apart. You gasped at wet heat of his mouth attacking your dripping cunt. “So good.” He growled. “All mine.”

You reached back and gripped a handful of his hair, hard. “Yes!”  

His teeth bit into the flesh of your ass cheek, with a growl. He leaned forward, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock. You pulled his hair harder. He growled, taking your arm and bending it behind your back as he slammed into you, rough.  

“Fuck yes!” Your free hand gripped the back of sofa as Bucky pounding into you hard and fast. Fire filled your veins. The smell of sweat and sex and Bucky filled your head. Slick dripped down your thighs. You buried your face in the back of the sofa, hand pulling at your nipple.  

“Mine.” Bucky growled. “Tease me. Fill my head with fucking you, making you come, in front of everyone. Showing them your mine.”

Imagining everyone watching, of Bucky being domineering, of wrecking you under their desperate eyes made everything snap. Your body shook. Fire blazed across your skin. A strangled scream tore from your throat. You flooded over his cock

“Oh, holy shit.” Buck ground into you hard, coming deep inside. As you quivered, panting, he gathered you against him and carried you to the bathroom.

He sat you down and turned to start the shower. “We’ll get cleaned up, and rest for a bit before going out for dinner. Unless you want me to order in?”

You rubbed against his back like a cat. His ass was perfect, strong and powerful. His scent was amazing. You licked a long line up his spine. His words finally began to sink in. “I want to go back to bed.” Your hands snaked around to dance his abs. “I need you in me.”  

Bucky turned in your arms, and you practically climbed him. Arms around his neck, your leg came up over his hip. He pulled you close to him, but his eyes were full of question. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Maybe a little,” You bit your lip, smiling wickedly. “But you could throw me down and fuck me to unconsciousness. I want you to fill me up, fuck me more.”

“Doll,” He combed his fingers through your hair, studying your face. “Doll, you okay?”

“No,” your body writhed against him, desperate for release.

“Could this be that virus you were talking about? The one that affects that part of your brain?”

“Bucky, please.” You managed to lift you other leg, rubbing your wet pussy along his cock.  

“Babe.” He growled, holding you still, gripping hard. “Think. Answer me.”

“Could be. Passion originates in the same center as aggression. It’s more complicated. Involves more parts of the brain. God, I want you to pound me.”

“I should call Bruce.”

“No,” You whined. “I want to fuck you.”

“Maybe Steve.”

“You want me to fuck Steve?”

“What?!” Bucky’s voice cracked. “No, Doll. For help.”

“You want Steve’s help to fuck me.” You pulled forward, running your tongue over his neck. “Whatever it takes. Bucky, I need your cock in me now.”

“Oh shit.” His head fell back. “You said the treatment will be ready tomorrow.” You rubbed your wet cunt against his cock. “Fuck. Ah. I suppose we just wear you out and if that doesn’t work, then I’ll call for help.”

“Buck.” You looked him in the eye. “Please.”

He lowered you onto his cock with groan.  

“Yes!”

Your crawled your way to consciousness slowly. Light warmed your eyelids. Your body felt warm, but sore. You rolled over. The ache between your legs bringing memories flooding back. Oh my, you thought. You really did come until you passed out.  

Licking your chapped lips, you swallowed against the awful taste in your mouth. Eyes cracking open, you could see you were still in Bucky’s room. The curtain was partially open, making the room light. You tried to sit up, feeling pains in your limbs and a particular sore spot on your right ass cheek.  

“Hey sleepyhead.” Bucky came in with a glass of water and couple pills. “How are feeling?”

“Sore, and weirdly hungover.” You rubbed your eyes.

“Helen came by really early and administered a sedative to knock you out until the antidote was ready.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “It’s nearly six in the evening. You really needed the sleep.”

A tired laugh burst from your chest. “Ah, yeah. The antidote. Guess I was right about it being contagious.”  

Bucky say down next you grinning like a fool. “At least you wanted to fuck me instead of fight me.” He handed you the pills. “Helen said to take these. They’ll help with the soreness.”

“Oh, god. This is going to be embarrassing. What did you tell her?”

“That I thought you had whatever it was, because of how you were acting.” He chuckled. “When I told her you finally passed out after we finished round nine, she got really uncomfortable and didn’t want to know any more.”

You laughed, hard.

TAGS

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Sick Days

Obviously before Mon el admits his feelings.

So how do you feel?" Mon-el asked when he entered Kara's room.

"Sick, so so very sick. I want to die" Kara sniffled.

Mon-el patted her shoulder, and pulled the blanket over her curled up body again.

"I hope Snapper undersdands. Ugh! I forgod to dell her!" Kara cried, she struggled to get up and rush to the phone but Mon el forced her to lie down again.

"It's okay. James already made an excuse as to why you're not going." Mon el assured her

"An excuse! Bud... I'm just sick, Dan excuse wilb ondly make id worsde." Kara whined as she tried to reach for the phone again.

"No it won't. We just told him that you have wild food poisoning and are throwing up as we speak. It sounds a lot better than just a cold."

"Jusb a cold. This a Krypdoniand cold, dose are mega worsde. It's den million colds at once." Kara groaned, swiveling her head dramatically. Then she sat up.

"Whab about you! Your fake job," She cried.

Mon-el brushed a stray hair out of her face, a smile creeping on his face as he looked at her. Even though her skin was ashen, her usually bouncy blonde curls were limp and stringy and her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was as stuffed up as a Build a Bear, she was cute.

She cared about his job, she cared what her boss would think. That was true determination and loyalty. Just generally niceness. That was Kara. She may be an alien, but she could fit as the girl next door any day of the week. She was just so optimistic and cheerful, it was one of the best things he liked about her.

In fact that was why he volunteered to help stay with her today. He didn't really know how to take care of a sick person but he googled it so it seemed easy.

Now Kara was a grown woman, but she was practically useless when she was sick, physically not able to get out of bed useless, and that usually put a damper on getting lunch herself or getting dress or getting tissues when she ran out.

Alex was going to do it, but once Mon-el heard he volunteered. And insisted that Alex go do her job and he would take care of her.

Lately Mon-el had been thinking a lot about Kara. A lot. She would creep up into his mind and random parts of the day even if she wasn't in the room.

He would stare at daffodils and think "Kara would love those. The first sign of spring. What did she call them? Oh right, cups of sunshine in bloom."

To a regular person that would be cheesy but that was just Kara.

He would watch tv shows and suddenly a particular line would pop up and he would be tempted to write it down so he could tell her later.

Yeah, he had to admit it. He got it bad for the Kryptonian.

But he couldn't admit it TO her.

She was just so strong and caring and yes, that might be her point of weakness. She would care too much. And when people fell in love, those feelings only amplify and then she would be protective of him this way and that and then there would be the whole "it's not you, it's my enemies." He was aware of the danger. It still didn't mean he could get over his feelings just like that.

Especially when she sounded like that.

"I'm gonna make you some food. You stay here and start getting better." Mon-el told her. Kara did what she was told and buried her head under the pillow without a second thought.

When Mon-el came back from the kitchen, Kara had fallen off the bed, and was staring dazedly at the wall.

"Mon-el. Fuddy ting. I can'd ged up." Kara said. He could swear the stuffiness was getting worse.

He placed the bowl of piping chicken soap on the dresser and swept her up in an army lift. He gently placed her into bed, rearranged the pillows, and pulled the blanket over her again, and made sure the tissue box was close by.

"Here some soup." He handed the bowl to her and she grinned happily.

"Danks" She took a slurp of it and spewed it across the bed, coughing violently.

"Sorry! I didn'd mean do!" Kara cried, she got off the bed and was about to start wiping the blanket when she dizzily fell again.

"Kara, you rest, I got it." Mon-el said, he lifted her again and walked her to the couch in the living room.

"Sorry," she muttered again.

"No it's not your fault. Your sick. Just relax, watch some tv"

He went back to the room, stripped the sheets and managed to wrangle up some new blankets in the back of her closet.

"Danks for all dis. Really. You could be doing domthing more udful or fun than be with me." Kara blew her nose in a tissue when he handed her the box

"It's my pleasure. You do so much for everyone, and for me. It's not a big deal to care for you" Mon el replied

"Dupergirl does do a lot of duff for everyone," Kara said.

"And Kara Danvers does too." Mon-el said as he sat next to her "She makes me happy, she brightens the workroom everyday and tries to see the best in things. I really like her."

Kara blushed, and hid her face behind her blanket. James froze, did he just admit his crush? More importantly, one of the most dreaded scenarios of this whole conversation was that she was just being Kara. She was nice to everyone including him. He was no different than Winn or Cat to her. Okay maybe he was step up from being Cat in her eyes but still.

"I really like you doo," Kara mumbled shyly. Mon el' heart skipped a beat.

Mon-el put his arm around her to adjust the blanket, and she leaned his head on his shoulder.

Soon she fell asleep but he just sat there contently and grinned like an idiot.

"She likes me. "Mon-el thought "She said she REALLY likes me. She'll probably be sick tomorrow so I should probably bring her daffodils just to cheer up. Oh and I could rent a movie. Has she seen that ER show yet? Oh and some super hot fudge. Yeah, tomorrow's sick is gonna be great!"

————————————————————————————————-

No way had Mon-el thought that in his days of taking care of a sick Kara that he would get sick himself.

But here he was, in bed, freezing, his throat burning me nose so clogged up that everything he said was filled with ds and his hearing felt like he was underwater the whole time.

In Daxam the closest thing to this was the daily headache of a hangover from the late night parties. In all honesty he was pretty sure his parents wouldn't allow him to be sick on account of being ruler and all that.

He wished he could just have those hangovers now. Actually he wished for some water because his threat was not only burning but felt like a little porcupine was scratching it as well.

Then he heard the door bell ring.

"Mon-el can I come in?" A sweet voice that reminded Mon el of a angel in his sick state.

"Yeuhh" Mon-el managed to cough out.

Kara walked in. Pristine and near as usual in her cardigan and glasses. Her hair perfectly curl and seemed so soft. Mon el really liked the smell of her hair. Well, if he could smell. He remembered what it smelled like though. Like fresh apples. Wholesome and good like Kara.

"Jew divil women. Jour are dill tryin' do kill me" Mon-el mock glared when he was seized by another harsh sneeze making his threat burn more.

Kara simply shook her head as she started to take out a soup container from her bag.

"We don't know how colds affects Dazims" Mon-el groaned "Dis could kill me."

"I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen." Kara said as she opened the container, "So I made this for you."

Mon-el gave hr an genuine smile. This was the Kara he admired. Someone so willing to do things for others from saving the world to giving soup to him.

Mon-el eagerly grabbed the container, but another sneeze took him and he spill some of the hot soup on his sweat pants.

Mon-el barely concealed how much he wanted to scream with what he hoped was a manly grunt.

"Oh oh I'll take care of that" Kara quickly grabbed the tissues and dabbed at the spill. "I'll just give it you."

Mon-el cocked his head questioningly until he realized that she meant to spoon feed him.

He didn't understand why he felt so nervous about it. Maybe it was the way Kara looked at him as she put the warm soup in his mouth. Caring, focused only on him wth those piercing, kind grey eyes.

"Tank you" he croaked

Kara put a finger to his lips and Mon-el noticed even though most of his senses were dulled he could feel how smooth her skin was.

"Rest your voice."

"Bud I like talkging with jew. Jour indersing,” He smiled.

Kara turned away but Mon-el could see her bite her lips as the end of her lip curled into a half-smile.

Mon-el smiled to himself. He still had his charm. Plus he had meant what he said. She was interesting. She was bubbly, and entertaining. But she also wasn't afraid to tell him he was wrong. While that was infuriating and annoying, it also intrigued him. Years of being with complimentary bimbos made him forget that some girls were headstrong.

And Kara was plenty headstrong. She had personality. That personality made her seem full of life and vigor. And he wanted to have her next to him and feel that vigor. She was so..so complex. As Supergirl she seemed industrictable, almost unattainable but here right now. She was pure and genuine. He wanted all of it.

"You're interesting too," Kara replied.

With those words, Mon-el felt like he had been given the greatest compliment. She thought he was interesting! No one at home ever thought he was interesting. Pretty, hot, fun usually came up. But interesting never.

Mon-el finished his soup so Kara started arranging his blankets, and started a movie. "Hope you don't mind, but I thought you need to see the greatest movie of all time."

"Stard Ward" Mon-el guessed. Winn kept going on and on about how awesome Star Wars was. And it was. It had so much action and drama and even some of the planets were realistic for a human movie.

"No." Kara chirped, “The Princess Bride. I think you'll really like Ingio."

Mon-el shrugged and settled closer to the blonde. He felt hotter with her body heat next to him. It was tempting to move away but he didn't want to. She may be hot as hell but her prescnce was also comforting and warm and soft.

Mon-el dazedly opened his eyes to see moon light streaming through his windows and that the night sky was alight with the flashing lights of buildings.

"Whad happened?"

Kara leaned over him, her blonde hair brushing against his cheek. "You conked out during the commercials and it's eleven."

"Oh sstorry?" Mon-el murmeered

"It's fine." Kara smiled at him, "We can see it another time. You looked cute asleep." Then she paused and blushed as if she hadn't meant to say that last part.

Mon-el was too happy about that to tease her. "Jou lookd cute lasd week doo."

Kara put her hand to his forehead and smiled at him once more. "You're less hot. So you're probably be better soon. And not going to die." Kara added

"Good." Mon-el said "But I'm glad jou were here with me if I did."

"Me too." Kara whispered softly, "I better go now. But I'll stop by tomorrow."

"Okday" Mon-el waved as Kara left his room.

He settled himself to sleeping position once more, utterly beaming with happiness at spending an afternoon with Kara and being called cute by Kara. Kara, Kara, Kara. That was all he could think of. He never felt this way about a women before. Then again, he never met a women like her before.

The door cracked open and Kara scutler back in adorably. "Sorry just wanted to make sure you had all the blankets on you. Okay, good. Sorry. Go back to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow."

Mon-el managed to wave goodbye as the mild manner reporter went away, "I'll be waiting."

#mon-el #kara danvers #supergirl #karamel #my fanfic #my fanfiction #sick days

[drwcn]

@discordance au: lan xichen initially not consummating bc he actually does want to get to know wwx better first and then seeing the way wangji looks at his new husband?? or is that not how it goes bc that second part destroyed me

Discordance!verse part 4: in which wwx is lxc’s husband through political alliance, and there is an affair.

→ Lan Xichen always knew. 

[8] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis]

As a rule, Cloud Recesses didn’t enjoy weddings. 

Weddings were loud, rowdy, crowded, filled with alcohol and red. Everything that Cloud Recesses was not. Since his father’s unorthodox marriage, the last grand wedding had been during his grandparents’ time, and obviously, way before Lan Xichen was even a thought in his parents’ mind. 

Still he had to admit, despite some of their more-than-mild panics early on in the planning process, the day went by without a glitch. Now, with the hours edging dangerously close to xu-shi and most of their esteemed guests three sheets to the wind (courtesy of Yunmeng’s seemingly endless supply of liquor for which the Grand Master and the Elders gave special dispensation on this one occasion), it was time for him and his groom to retreat to their private suite for... some much deserved alone time. 

It was practically an open secret in Cloud Recesses that the First Jade knew exactly how to walk the crevices between the three thousand rules carved in stone. Compared to his little brother, he was much more amenable to the human experience. The more daring disciples would even go so far as to whisper amongst themselves that Sect Masters Nie and Lan had been intimately close during their youth, before they matured into their responsibilities and decided to frame their relationship within the simple lines of sworn brotherhood. 

There was nothing awkward about growing up; Lan Xichen was comforted to know. Across the hall, Nie Mingjue gave him a look full of meaning. 

Go on, you know what’s coming next. 

If there were ever a person more excited about Lan Xichen getting hitched than all the closet-romantics at Cloud Recesses, it was his Da-ge. 

Don’t drink too much, you still have to show xiao-Wei a good time. 

Da-ge, can you not -

The bastard had the audacity to smirk. 

But...looking around the room, Lan Xichen realized through his alcohol-induced haze (just wee bit of drink, it’s okay) that his new husband was nowhere to be seen. 

Five minutes and a round of searching later, he found out why. 

Out in courtyard where the the festivities of the banquet hall faded to a faint hum in the background of a calm summer night,Wei Wuxian leaned against the railing of the pavilion. From where he stood, Lan Xichen could hear his easy laughter. 

His dark doe eyes waned into crescents, and his cheeks were colored a pretty pink from alcohol and mirth. Undoubtedly, Wei Wuxian was a beautiful young man, and if Lan Xichen was honest with himself, there was a healthy dose desire coiling deep in his belly at the sight of him. 

But then...his gaze drifted to the other side of the railing, where a figure in white and blue stood bathed in the moonlight. 

Oh?

Lan Xichen blinked. 

To another person, Lan Wangji did not appear any different than his usual self. If pressed, they would say he looked a tad annoyed. But Lan Xichen was not just another person. To him, his brother’s face was open, guilelessly and uncertain. His eyes were widened, just incrementally, and his lips barely parted. 

Wangji’s gaze was fixed upon the young man next to him - his new brother-in-law - who had his head thrown back laughing at whatever words they had exchanged prior to Lan Xichen’s arrival. 

Oh...

Wei Ying, Xichen read the words from Wangji’s lips. The sidepiece of your guan is eschew. 

Wei Wuxian’s response was much louder, so it was heard clearly even across the courtyard. 

“Oh shi- where? where?” He straightened from his slouch, a hand flying up to his hair. “Fix it, fix it for me, won’t you?”

Oh! 

Lan Xichen watched in shock as his little brother reached up and adjusted the delicate gold surrounding Wei Wuxian’s top knot. 

Wangji, you...

Wei Wuxian fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, holding still as Wangji re-pinned the piece. “I have to go see your brother soon,” he said. “Madam Yu explicitly ordered that everything has to be perfect tonight or else it’s bad luck.” 

At his words, Wangji’s hands paused, the openness of his face retreating instantly behind his mask of cool poise. He lowered his eyes. 

"Xiong’fu, it’s late,” said his brother, taking a step back to bow. “I should leave you now. Congratulations again, and...welcome to Cloud Recesses.” 

Before either of them could see, Lan Xichen drew himself behind a pillar. He leaned there for a long time, processing all that he had witnessed and the options he was left with. 

When they were young, Lan Xichen was always the one showered with gifts and presents by delegates of other sects, what with his being the Lan heir and such. And Wangji... well, Wangji always got - what did the disciples call it, ah yes - first dips on all of Lan Xichen’s goods. One, because Lan Xichen loved his little brother more than life itself, but also because Wangji knew exactly how to use that baby pout the older Lan could never say no to. 

Lan Wangji eventually grew out of this habit once they hit double digits, and he definitely loved and respected his older brother too much to attempt anything untoward of this nature. That much, Xichen was certain. Still, it didn’t help that he felt the reflexive need to push the plate of pastries - a once in a blue moon treat for children of Cloud Recesses - across the table so little Wangji could have it first. It was a residual instinct left from his childhood days, and he simply couldn’t help it.  

Except...the pastry wasn’t actually pastry but an attractive man named Wei Wuxian and his legally wedded husband. 

Well, thought Lan Xichen, shaking his head. This will certainly be interesting. 

As he put on his best face of ignorant bliss, he vaguely wondered what Nie Mingjue would say about his predicament. 

He could hear his laughter now. 

Damn. 

[part 5]

#Anonymous #corie replies #discau #discordance #wangxian #lan xichen #because lan xichen has only 1 priority and that's too see wangji get a social life and a love life #nothing else matters #he gotta get his lil bro laid #corie fics

[thegirlwhorunswithwinchesters]

Calm After the Storm

Summary: A storm brings back memories, and an unexpected gift.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past injury, anxiety, fluff.

Word count: 2.2K

Prompt: ‘Trampoline That Got Sucked Up in a Tornado’

A/N: This is for the Unfic Challenge from @spnfanficpond​ It’s my first time participating in a challenge and I had so much fun turning this prompt into the oneshot it’s become!

Beta: @princessmisery666​

|| JJ’s Masterlist ||

(gif)

An uneasy feeling took hold of you when the bare lightbulb above your head started flickering. It was simply a reminder that big storms had an influence on the town’s electricity, but you couldn’t help seeing it as a bad omen of sorts. As if every flicker went paired with a whispered warning.

Brace yourself. Brace yourself.

And so you did.

Dean had his arms wrapped around you, and at the feeling of your body tightening, he dipped his head to bring his lips to your ear. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

He was trying to soothe you but all you could do was whimper in response. “I hate this.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “I know, sweetheart.” One of his hands was in your hair, gently stroking. The other cupped your cheek and lifted your head so your eyes met. “I’m sure it’s not gonna be much longer.”

You knew he was right. Through the anxiety fogging your brain, you could grasp at some common sense. It told you to listen for the wind, or any other sounds coming from outside. The worst was over, you could tell.

It should have calmed you more, but you were still on edge. Ever since the storm a year before, the biggest one in a decade, you were a wreck whenever the weather reports said another was on its way.

Tornados weren’t uncommon where you lived. You were actually more used to them than Dean had been when you moved to this town. Unlike you, he hadn’t grown up in the area and dealt with extreme weather conditions like these for as long as he could remember.

However, your advantage had vanished the moment you got hurt during another one of those storms. It was right after you and Dean moved into the neighborhood. Most houses had still been under construction and it had been a loose wooden beam from one of those constructions that gave you the scare of your life.

You had been cleaning up in the kitchen, when a strong gust of wind forced the beam through the window you were standing only a few feet away from. The impact had shattered both the glass and your left shoulder.

Throughout your recovery, you had seen Dean go from feeling horrified, to being haunted by a heavy dose of guilt you failed to talk him out of, and, eventually, to being overtaken by a sense of determination that had led him to build a storm cellar in your backyard.

One in which you were currently hiding out once again.

“Las Vegas,” Dean spoke quietly into the dimly lit room. “Weekend trip, two years ago.”

Your mind needed a few seconds to catch up, but then you realized what he was doing. It was a game he had invented the first time you were hiding out in the storm cellar. A way to distract you from the fear wrapping tightly around your throat. He would mention a happy memory you two shared, and then you would take turns sharing a specific moment you loved most about it.

This time, you couldn’t respond. You were already finding it hard to focus again, and your body had started to shiver in Dean’s arms despite him already having taken off his jacket and tightly wrapped you in it earlier.

Dean went first instead, he wasn’t giving up. “You wanted to go on that hike,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I remember thinking, ‘A hike, really? There’s so many things to do in this city and she wants to go trekking in the desert?’”

You closed your eyes as you focused on his voice and the rhythm of his hand still stroking your hair.

“But then that sunset happened and the shades of orange light hit your face in a way that knocked the damn ground out right from under me. Even winning the biggest jackpot in town that night wouldn’t have compared to the way I felt when I looked at you on top of that hill.”

Dean kissed your forehead and you nuzzled into his neck. His breath was hot on your cheek, sending the first good kind of shivers down your back since entering the cellar.

“The first night.” Your voice was merely a whisper. You were afraid it would break if you attempted to speak any louder. “You spilled your drink at the restaurant and after you had left for the bathroom to get cleaned up, I heard the people at the table next to us talk about how they thought you peed your pants.”

For a moment, nothing could be heard but the wind outside. Then, Dean’s chest started rumbling beneath yours. His hearty laugh startled you at first, but then you found yourself joining in with a careful chuckle of your own.

“That’s your favorite part of the whole trip?” he asked, but he didn’t sound at all offended. Knowing Dean, he was probably just happy his distraction tactic had proven to be a success once again.

“Well,” you mumbled, already sitting up a bit straighter and feeling less like simply trying to breathe was using up all your energy, “there was also that thing we did afterwards, in the hotel room…”

Dean’s goofy grin sent surges of electricity through your body that made your heartbeat flicker like the lightbulb above your heads. He reached out to pull your face closer to his but right as your lips were about to touch, he paused.

“Listen,” he whispered.

You did as told and immediately understood what he was trying to tell you. Silence. That was all you could hear as the two of you held your breath. The storm outside had to have settled down enough for the noise to have stopped.

“Should-” You licked your lips because they had suddenly gotten dry at the realization you might be heading out into the open. “Should we go back to the house?”

“Only if you’re ready,” Dean said softly, sitting back a bit to give you room to breathe.

You took a moment to think about it. Of course you wanted to stay in the bunker for as long as possible, because you wanted to feel safe as long as possible. But if the storm was over, if the two of you could go into the house again, you’d rather spend the rest of the day there.

Dean stirred when you stayed quiet. “How about I go first?” he suggested gently. He was already moving away from you when he saw the worried look in your eyes. “I’ll only be a minute,” he assured you, placing his hand on yours for just a moment. “Promise.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand before he pulled it away. Within the next few seconds, Dean had gone up the steps and you were left alone. In the dim lighting, you could see your own fingers trembling.

At first you thought it would be a good idea to start counting. After all, Dean had said he would only need a minute. Though you knew that shouldn’t necessarily be taken literally, you thought counting to sixty might help keep you from going stir crazy.

You had to start over a few times because unhelpful thoughts, fueled by worry, tried taking over your brain. You had barely gotten to fifty after the third try when the sound of the latch opening almost made you jump out of your skin.

Light poured into the room and Dean’s head appeared in the opening at the top of the steps. He was smiling at first but when he saw you, hunched over and trembling, his face fell.

You closed your eyes and sighed in relief at the sight of him unhurt. His heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs and then he was next to you again. Arms wrapping around your body, hands covering yours. You could feel him trying to pry your fingers open and you opened your eyes in surprise at the realization you were clenching your hands into fists.

You blinked a few times, looking at the crescent moon imprints in the palms of your hands, where your nails had dug in deep. Dean brushed his large fingers over them, and though his skin was rough, the feeling was soothing.

Dean didn’t say anything, just held you until you eased up again. And that’s when you realized he had left the ledge open. There was still light pouring in, as well as the sound of the wind blowing outside. You took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air.

“It’s all good up there,” Dean finally spoke, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath tickle your skin. You weren’t sure that was the reason you got chills, or if it was the thought of going up. But you trusted Dean. If he said it was safe, you would follow him.

You didn’t let go of his hand as the two of you left the bunker. Dean closed the latch behind you while you took a moment to let your eyes adjust to the natural lighting. You took a look around the yard. The place was a bit of a mess. Some of the backyard furniture Dean had tried to secure before the storm, had gotten loose and made its way across the lawn. There was a bunch of trash that had blown over. And there, turned on its side, leaning against the back porch, was something else that didn’t belong in your yard.

“Is that…” you started, a frown on your face.

Dean turned around and followed your gaze. “Yup!” he said, a bit too excitedly for your taste. “Must’ve blown over from one of the neighbors’ backyards.”

You took in the giant trampoline and imagined it being forced up into the air and across multiple properties. The thought of such a dangerous thing caused you to shiver for the umpteenth time that day. Dean noticed and wrapped and arm around you, pulling you close against his warm body.

“Let’s get you inside,” he offered, already leading you over to the backdoor. “I’ll clean up out here. You look like you might enjoy a little nap.”

“That’s just your way of saying I look like crap, isn’t it?” you guessed while making your way through the hallway and up the stairs.

All you could hear was the sound of Dean’s laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen, but it was enough to answer your question.

You woke up feeling relaxed. All stress and anxiety from earlier seemed to have been erased from your muscles and mind. Turning over onto your other side, you spotted the empty teacup on your nightstand.

Dean had come up before you had fallen asleep, to bring you some calming chamomile tea, before he headed into the yard to tidy up. He always knew exactly how to take care of you.

You smiled at the thought of how lucky you were to have a man like Dean in your life, but your face fell the moment you had made your way downstairs and into the backyard. Despite knowing the storm was over, you felt uneasy at the sight of the dark sky. Your hair was swept up by a gust of wind and you shivered.

An unfamiliar sound made you turn your head to the left. There was that trampoline again, the one you noticed earlier before heading into the house. And from the looks of it, the journey which had led it into your yard, hadn’t caused any damage.

It was standing on its steel legs now, looking steady, and creaking steadily every time Dean landed in the middle of the surface, only to be launched back into the air. He twirled and did a backflip before his eyes finally landed on you and he stilled himself.

Dean was smiling from ear to ear, and as you walked closer, you noticed his eyes were twinkling with excitement. He walked over to the edge of the trampoline carefully and held out his hand for you.

“C’mon, give it a try,” he coaxed.

You looked up at him with uncertainty, and there was that beautiful smile again. It made you feel warm inside, chasing away every last bit of anxiety that was left.

The first bounce felt a little unsteady. You needed a moment to get used to it. The last time you jumped on a trampoline was so long ago, you couldn’t even remember when it had been exactly.

Dean joined in after a minute of letting you find your balance.

The two of you laughed and bounced around each other. At some point, Dean came down at the exact time you did, causing you to be thrown up into the air even higher. You squealed happily, closing your eyes as you felt weightless, like you could fly.

You both felt like little kids again. Everything else was long forgotten. The storm, the cellar and the tension. You were free of worry, without a care in the world.

#unfic challenge #JJ's fics #supernatural #dean x reader #spn oneshot #fluff #angst #dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #spnfanficpond

[sevenstarsinning]

Summary: Raditz loses his mate when Planet Vegeta is destroyed and finds himself working alongside Prince Vegeta. When he comes to Earth to recruit his brother, he’s dealt another devastating blow when Goku refuses to join and leaves him near death. He’s found by a human and attempts to adapt to life on Earth.

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4

Chapter 5

Morning dew coated the outside of the pod and birds chirped on the tree branch nearby. It was way too cheery for early morning. Being awake at that time usually meant you either couldn't sleep at all or woke up long before you should have.

That morning you woke up too early but it was entirely Raditz's fault and you were more than okay with that.

Sometime during the night he wrapped his tail around your waist and pulled you up to sleep on his chest. That was where you woke up and that's where you remained, listening to him purr while his body heat kept you warm. The rise and fall of his chest was like a gentle rocking putting you completely at ease. That was no easy feat and there he was making you feel safe and content without even trying.

You lifted your head up to see he was awake. It felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you realized something was different.

"You're awake... and you're still purring."

His eyes locked onto yours and the butterfly feeling spread to your chest and throat leaving you seconds from saying something you probably shouldn't say.

"I'm comfo-"

"You're beautiful," you blurted. Your eyes widened and you let out a nervous laugh.

His brow raised in surprise, mouth slightly ajar. For a moment, you expected him to push you over to your side of the pod.

Instead, he smiled and struggled to keep his eyes on yours. He was nervous and you had no idea why.

"I've been called many things but uh... that's a new one," he finally said, breaking the anxiety inducing silence between you.

"Was that a bad thing to say?" You asked, unable to hide the worry in your voice and on your face.

"No, not bad at all. Just new."

When you saw the smile that spread across his face, you realized making a complete fool of yourself in front of him didn't bother you at all. In fact, you were willing to let it happen more just to see that smile. It was like a potent dose of serotonin and you needed more.

"I think I have a solution to our housing problem," you revealed, changing the subject to avoid doing something incredibly stupid.

His tail tightened around your waist and you knew he wasn't letting you up anytime soon.

Later that day, you and Raditz embarked on your first journey away from the house together. He usually stayed back when there were errands to run or groceries to buy. He wasn't a small guy by any stretch of the imagination and walking side by side with him downtown drew the gaze of many people passing by. It wasn't just his size that made people take notice, it was also his gorgeous mane of black hair that nearly touched the ground and his bulging muscles stretching the material of his t-shirt and jeans. It was Raditz in general, all the way down to the way he carried himself and the air of confidence he seemed to be naturally gifted with.

"This is definitely the place," you said, opening the door to a white dome shaped building.

Raditz shuffled in behind you, almost filling the doorway completely. A purple haired girl with the Capsule insignia on her shirt approached.

"Welcome to the Capsule store, my name is Lynn. Is there anything I can help you find?"

Her eyes drifted over to the huge saiyan next to you. He tilted his head, curious about her. Then it struck you, Raditz had little to no experience around other humans.

"Yeah, my house was half demolished when a... plane crashed into it." You knew exactly how ridiculous it sounded but saying a space pod carrying a hot alien crash landed on your house was out of the question.

"Was it a... an alien ship?" Lynn asked, glancing up at Raditz.

"How do you know that, human?" He said, stepping closer to the much smaller human.

"My boyfriend- " Before she could finish her sentence, an alarm blared and red lights flashed overhead. The ceiling opened up but before you could see what was happening, the tail tucked under Raditz's shirt flung out and coiled around your waist, pulling you safely behind him.

"You're supposed to be dead!" A voice called out amidst the chaos.

You peeked around Raditz to see an entire row of artillery from the ceiling aimed at him. A teal haired woman standing on the other side glared, not the least bit intimidated.

"Hey, can you get the insane security to stand down, he's not going to hurt anyone," you yelled back, waving your hand.

"Is that... is that a human behind you?" The woman asked, trying to get a better view.

"Help me out, big guy, your tail won't let me go," you said. Your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest. Everything happened so fast you barely had time to react.

"And put you in harm's way? No, you stay back there, this is Kakarot's friend," Raditz growled.

"Wait... you mean Goku?" Lynn said from behind a shield that went up around her automatically.

"Raditz, calm down. They haven't attacked, we can talk to them," you whispered. It was hard to hide the panic in your voice over the predicament you found yourself in.

"Human, where is Kakarot?" Raditz asked, turning his attention to Lynn.

"Enough!" The other woman shouted. "If you promise to keep him on a leash, I'll disarm security."

"Raditz, please?" You begged, lightly scratching the back of his head to soothe him.

He let out a little growl and loosened his tail. "Fine."

The red lights retracted along with the row of weapons and disappeared into the ceiling.

"All I have to do is hit one button and those will come back out, so don't try anything," the woman said, approaching him without a trace of fear.

"I'm Bulma, I'm assuming you're the one taming the saiyan?" She stepped around him to look at you.

"Trying to," you laughed nervously. Raditz still had his tail around you, protecting you even without an immediate threat.

"Come on, let's go out back and talk. Lynn, close up and go home. Make sure Goku knows about this," Bulma said, giving out orders as she guided you and Raditz towards the back of the dome.

The back door led to a shaded patio with a row of tables and thick, beautiful foliage lining the sides to offer privacy to anyone sitting out there.

"Raditz can sit there," Bulma said, pointing at the first table, "we're going to the back table."

"No, I'm staying with her," he snapped, his tail coiling tight around your waist again.

"It's okay, big guy. I'm safe, this is like the smartest and richest woman in the world," you said, nodding towards Bulma. He eyed her wearily but relented and loosened his hold.

You gave him a reassuring smile before following her to the last table.

"Sorry about the security system in there, it's not even loaded with ammo, it's just a deterrent. What did you come in for?" Bulma asked, taking a seat at the last round white table.

"A house. His pod wrecked mine when he landed. We've actually been sort of living in his pod and it's not very roomy," you explained.

Bulma was unfazed by all of it and that piqued your curiosity.

"You've been sleeping in the pod with him? Has anything happened?" She leaned in and kept her voice low.

"Not really. It was a little rough at first but he's adjusting," you said in a hushed voice.

"That's good. He's definitely a lot less hostile than I remember." She glanced past you at Raditz. You could tell her mind was racing, sorting through the chaos that just came back into her life.

The two of you talked for a while, you filled her in on Raditz and she told you about Goku and the little bit she knew about saiyans. You were looking forward to meeting him at some point and even though it was a long shot given the history, maybe Raditz and Goku could at least talk. That could be a step towards him finding happiness on Earth.

"I'll make you deal. If you keep an eye on him and tell me if anything weird happens, I'll give you a capsule house." She said it like she was giving you a piece of cake as opposed to a whole house.

"Bulma, no. That's way too much, let me pay," you countered.

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a handful of capsules. "How many bedrooms were you thinking?"

"Just one, that's all I can really do at the moment."

She settled on a pink capsule and placed it on the table in front of you. "That's a three bedroom. It's one of the models we used for photos so it's fully furnished and you're not paying for it."

"Bulma, you don't even know me. I-"

"Your saiyan back there came to Earth to recruit Goku. The only reason he's here is because of my friend which means your house is gone because of this. It's the least we can do for you," she said, pushing the capsule closer.

"And remember, call me immediately if anything feels off with him, okay? This is a direct line to me," she said, passing a business card to you with the Capsule logo shimmering on the top left corner and a phone number scrawled across the bottom.

"At least let me pay you something for this, please?" You pleaded with her.

"Absolutely not. Just come to my next party, I’ll introduce you to Goku," she said, refusing to take no for an answer as she headed back inside the building.

On your way back to the car, Raditz remained silent. There was no good way to approach the subject of his brother. That had to be weighing on him.

"What's that place?" He finally spoke, pointing towards the small building on the other side of the road.

"It's a bar. One of my favorites actually," you replied, coming to a stop at a four way intersection.

"What's a bar?"

"A place where people usually drink strong tasting liquids that make them feel funny."

"Strong liquids?" He raised an eyebrow and sat forward just enough to see past his hair which had taken up residence between the two of you.

"We call it alcohol. It's how I ended up in that field the night I found you."

"Libations. That's what we called them."

Instead of continuing straight through the intersection, you made a quick left followed by a right and pulled into the parking lot.

You entered the old, dimly lit bar with Raditz in tow. The evening crowd was starting to trickle in.

Raditz found a table while you ordered drinks. You leaned back against the bar while you waited, watching him mess with the phone you gave him. It looked so small in his hands and he looked adorable navigating what he called primitive technology.

After very carefully walking back to your table, you sat a tray full of drinks in the middle and pulled out a chair.

A big, strong arm wrapped around your waist and the next thing you knew, you were sitting in Raditz's lap. You were already so used to cuddling with him in the pod that you didn't think anything of it.

As the day turned to night, you introduced Raditz to all of your favorite drinks and even some you didn't like just to see his reaction. Aside from trips back to the bar to order more drinks, he kept you in his lap with an arm around your waist.

He required a ton of alcohol to even get a buzz and you were content sipping and never getting totally drunk. One of you had to stay a little sober to avoid bad decisions.

"What is this one?" Raditz asked, holding up a pint glass of blue liquid.

"That is your last drink of the night, big guy." You grabbed it and took a quick sip before handing it back.

"It's called... last drink of the night?" He stared at the glass, confused by the weird name.

"It's called an Adios Motherfucker."

"Say that again but... slower," he said with a big goofy smile. Drunk Raditz wasn't too different from the sober version. The thing you noticed the most was the sadness in his eyes. You watched it slowly fade until it was gone completely. His smiles lit up his entire face and he laughed louder.

"Can I have another one of these?" He asked, holding up his empty glass.

"Dude, I've already had to drag you to my house once, we're not doing that again," you chided.

"Human... sweetheart- just one?" He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted.

"Human sweetheart. That's a new one," you laughed, shaking your head at how ridiculously cute he was.

You relented and bought him one more drink. The expensive bar tab made you feel sick but it was worth every penny to see him finally shed the darkness that enveloped him. Even if it was only for a night.

As soon as the chilly night air hit your face, you regretted not bringing a jacket.

"Saiyan, give me your warmth," you said, ducking underneath his massive arm.

"We not driving?" He asked, lifting you into his arms like a child.

"I've had one too many drinks." You buried your face against his neck and settled in for the walk home. Luckily it wasn't far and you liked getting carried by Raditz, especially with his hands on your ass to hold you up.

"You smell good," he said in a sleepy voice as you neared your half destroyed house.

"You can still smell my perfume? I figured that would've faded by now."

"No... not that," he muttered, burying his face against your neck to sniff you. If it was anyone else, you probably would've freaked out.

"Your scent, the normal one."

You pulled back and smiled. “Wait, do you have some kind of heightened sense of smell that I don’t know about?”

“Yeah, it’s a saiyan thing. We can pick up on scents and changes in scents we’re familiar with. Particularly with females we’re close to or want to be close to.”

He crossed the lawn to the backyard and lowered you to the ground. “How does this capsule thing work?”

You pulled it from your pocket, clicked the small button and tossed it approximately where you wanted your new house to be.

“Holy shit, Bulma,” you said in awe of the beautiful house she gave you. It was far too much and you were already trying to figure out ways to pay her back. You and Raditz explored the house briefly before calling it a night, exhausted from the day.

You tossed and turned even though the new bed was the most comfortable thing you had ever laid on. The temperature in the room was perfect and it was dark enough, but something still wasn't right.

You knew what it was but you didn't want to acknowledge it. Lines had already been crossed on multiple levels with your unexpected roommate. You shared the pod out of necessity, nothing more.

Minutes ticked by and you only seemed to get less sleepy. You finally got annoyed enough to get out of bed and go to the living room, but you didn't make it there. You ran straight into a wall of saiyan at the end of the hallway.

"Holy shit! What the hell are you doing out here?" You stepped back and saw him carrying a glass of water.

"I can't sleep so I got a glass of water. That a crime, you tiny pain in the ass?" He asked with a little smirk.

"No, it's not a crime, you giant pain in the ass," you said in a mocking tone.

"Can I sleep with you?"

You knew he meant actual sleep, but your brain processed it in a different way entirely and it left your panties wet.

"Sure," you said, against your better judgement.

He followed you back to your room and walked around to the other side of the bed while you got back under the covers on your side. He laid down and turned on his side to face you.

"Bedroom not comfy enough?" You asked, scooting closer to him. He draped his arm over you and started to fade right away.

"Not that... just didn't have you," he said before drifting off to sleep.

You were wide awake until he started purring, head rested against your shoulder. It didn't matter how much you tried to fight off the feelings you were having for him, they weren't going away. The last thought you had before you finally fell asleep was the realization that you needed Raditz by your side to fall asleep.

A loud crash outside made the entire house shake. Raditz was up in the blink of an eye checking the window to see what it was. His tail fluffed up and moved wildly behind him.

You scrambled out of bed to look for yourself but there was nothing, just the backyard.

"What's wrong, big guy? Are you seeing something I'm not?"

"I need you to stay behind me and if anything happens to me, run," he said, effectively scaring the hell out of you.

"What? You can't just say that with no explanation! What's going on?" Your anxiety skyrocketed as he moved past you to head towards the living room.

"Raditz- "

"Behind me," he snapped.

Before you could protest, the front door was kicked completely off the hinges and left in a mangled heap on the floor. A tall, muscular guy with short, spiky black hair walked in. One eye was covered with some kind of device you had never seen.

"This is what you've been doing, huh? There's something incredibly wrong about a domesticated Saiyan," the man said with a cocky grin.

A shorter man stepped in behind him, black hair shooting towards the sky like small spires. He also had the same device covering one of his eyes and he somehow looked even more intimidating than the bigger one.

"Prince Vegeta, Turles," Raditz said, giving them each a nod.

#raditz x reader #raditz #let you go fic #supremeleadershitlord