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veltana · 8 months

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Mutual Satisfaction - Avengers!Bucky x Avengers!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

✦ Word count: ~3k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings: One shot, pwp, A LOT of dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Bucky, sub!reader, manhandling, piv, slight dumbification, pet names (angel/master), safe sex, condoms, cum shot, aftercare, fluff (because I neeeeed it!)

✦ Summary: "Was it because of what I said," he leans forward to whisper into your ear. The warmth of his body pressing against yours even though he's not touching you. "Did your tiny little brain think of all the ways I could fuck you until you're a mess?"

✦ Note: This is nothing but pure self-indulgent smut, that's heavily dialogue-based. Let me know if you like it! (It's also posted on AO3)

Masterlist | AO3

The chime from your phone makes you look away from the TV screen.

"Sorry, one sec."

You find it buried under some pillows but the excitement you initially felt quickly turns sour when you see the response. With a sigh of disappointment, you drop it and return to choosing a movie together with Bucky.

"Bad news?" he asks as he flips through the list.

"Yup," you conclude.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"It's honestly nothing, just scheduling issues."

"With your boyfriend?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"He's not my boyfriend. We just sleep together," you point out.

"I'm sure you can find someone else, you're an avenger now. Bet they're lining up to get a chance with you," Bucky shrugs.

You scrunch your nose. "I'm tired of being disappointed. I'd rather wait and have my needs met, even if it's frustrating."

"That long huh?"

"Between all the missions and not being free at the same time, it's been months."

"Yeah, same." Bucky murmurs and stops on a movie. "What about this one?"

"Yeah, sure."

You settle down against the numerous pillows you have been bringing to Bucky's room since you started having these movie nights a couple of months ago. His TV is bigger and his couch is much softer than yours. Plus the two of you fit comfortably on this one, with enough room for both to stretch out.

"So why won't just a regular guy do it for you?" Bucky asks and takes a fist of popcorn, stuffing it in his mouth.

Shrugging you say "I need someone I can trust, with my body and my mind. Takes a lot of talking in the beginning, but now it's almost as good as therapy for getting out of my head."

"Don't like thinking?"

"Not during sex. I just need someone else to make decisions for me, use me however they like. Not ask me what I want, just flip me over, make me come until I can't see straight, and fuck me until they're satisfied. If I pick someone up at a bar, all they do is slap my ass and finish a minute later."

Both of you are silent and watch the movie before you ask.

"What about you?"

"Look at me," he chuckles. "The metal arm scares the majority and the ones that are left usually can't handle what I want."

"And what do you want?"

"Control, over something, someone. Watching as they go dumber and dumber the more orgasms I can force from them. Until they can't speak. Just owning their warm body for a moment, taking as long as I need because they don't want to be anywhere else than on my cock," Bucky laughs.

The laugh gets stuck in your throat because there is no denying Bucky's words have an impact on you. Hopefully, he doesn't notice and you refuse to move and rub your thighs together. Then you both continue to watch the movie, but it's hard to concentrate. All you imagine is Bucky using your body and finally getting the release that you've been longing for. How much would it fuck up the team dynamic if you started sleeping together? You force yourself to watch the movie and not entertain those thoughts anymore.

Two hours later, after the table has been cleaned off, you're heading for the door, mind already back in your own room and the toys you'll undoubtedly need to take care of yourself to be able to sleep. Then you feel a hand on your wrist, and in a flash, you’re pinned with your back against the door, Bucky's hand securely holding both your arms above your head. You're not sure if the breath that leaves your lungs is because the force pushes it out of you or because you're instantly so turned on. Either way, there is no denying the impact his closeness has.

"So, are you going to tell me what you've been thinking about the whole movie?" There is a knowing smirk on his lips.

"What? Nothing? I was watching it."

"Don't play dumb with me, you were far off somewhere else for most of the time."

You swallow hard, opening and closing your mouth a few times. It's embarrassing that you've been on his couch, thinking lewd thoughts about him when you're not even that close—something between coworkers and friends.

"Was it because of what I said," he leans forward to whisper into your ear. The warmth of his body pressing against yours even though he's not touching you. "Did your tiny little brain think of all the ways I could fuck you until you're a mess?"

A whine crawls up your throat unbidden and you turn your head to the side, shame making your ears warm.

"All you have to do is ask," he prompts. "Or tell me to let you go and we can pretend this never happened."

The last thing is out of the question. You just need to work up enough courage to tell him what you need. Everything about him pierces your senses, making you high of his smell, touch, and sound.

In the end, all you can come up with is, "Bucky please." And bucking your hips up in the hope of finding some friction for your throbbing core.

But he just makes an unimpressed sound.

"No, you have to do better than that." Then he pauses and uses his free hand to turn your head until you're looking into his blue eyes.

"We'll go over everything properly before next time," his voice is calm and to the point. Making it clear he expects you to listen. "But right now I think we need each other. We'll use traffic lights or you'll tell me if it's too rough or too much. Understand?"

"Yes Bucky," you answer.

He releases your face and your arms, placing his hands on either side of your head instead. With a smile that makes you wetter than you already are, he says, "Good girl. Now do a better job at begging."

He is effectively displaying his whole body for you and in seconds you have your palms on his chest, caressing carefully up and down, feeling his corded muscles beneath the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Bucky please," you beg in a delicate voice. "I need you to touch me. I want to feel you everywhere. Please help me come, it hurts so bad."

His pupils dilate, almost eclipsing the blue in his eyes. Then he presses his knee up between your legs, lifting you off the ground enough that only the tip of your toes reaches the floor.

"Here, use my leg and hump it. We'll see what you deserve after that."

Oh, he's got a mean streak, you realize, and you're all for it. Wiggling on his thigh to get a better position you grab a hold of his shoulders to steady yourself and try to move. It's difficult and not nearly enough to get you where you wish but you're absolutely enjoying the way he's playing with you and speaking to you.

"Look at the innocent little angel using my leg. What else can I make you do to get off huh?"

With a whine you work faster, chasing something barely there.

"Something you'll learn very quickly, little angel, is that I don't share, but I do like showing off my property. Let everyone see but not let anyone touch."

"Yes!" you moan. "I'll be anything you need, just help me, please Bucky!"

"I'll hold you to that," he promises. Suddenly his knee is gone but instead, his body is pressed hard against yours and his lips descend. The kiss is filthy and needy, your hands grab onto his head, trying to get more of him even though he's already as close as he can come. You suck on his tongue and lips and he does the same to you, before mouthing his way over your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking. His beard pricks you but it's a mild discomfort to the one between your legs.

A string of needy noises tumble out of your mouth and you're about to start begging again but right then he lifts you and turns around, heading over to his large bed. As your body touches the sheets his hands start pulling at your clothes and you do the same to him. Moments later both of your are naked on the bed, making out like horny teenagers, rutting mindlessly against each other. His fingers find your hard clit, gently circling it a few times before dipping into the wetness at your opening. You mewl into his mouth in delight, thinking he's going to start filling you with his fingers, but instead, he spreads the slick back up to your clit and starts flicking it slowly.

Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly, no thoughts if you can be heard through the walls, everything is focused on the way he's touching you. His mouth finds your nipple and you get impossibly hotter and wetter. The months-long dry spell quickly catches up to you. Bucky fingers are expertly playing with you, never too hard or too light, hurling you towards the climax.

"Can I cum Bucky? Please can I cum?!"

His laugh tickles your skin, his fingers slow and he looks up at you.

"Yes, you can this time, just because you asked so nicely."

His fingers gather more of your wetness before picking up speed again. The band in your stomach quickly snaps and you scream out your release, blabbering "Thank you-thank you-thank you!"

Without getting a second to breathe you're flipped onto your stomach, then his hands lift your hips and you fold your knees in under you.

"Grab me a condom in the drawer angel," he directs and with unsteady hands and a complaining whine you open the drawer and rummage around until you find a square package.

"Don't whine when I'm trying to do the right thing," he growls and smacks your ass. "I know a little slut like you wants to be pumped full of cum until you're dripping." He leans down over you until his mouth is next to your ear, his raw dick rubbing against your sensitive cunt. Plucking the condom from your fingers he whispers, "You'll have to earn my cum, angel."

A jolt of pleasure-filled electricity shoots through you, just imagining yourself on your knees in front of him, doing anything he asks.

"I'll do anything, master," the name slips out by pure habit. "I'll be good, let you use me in any way you like, any hole. Anything to earn your cum, please, master."

A groan can be heard from behind together with the sound of the foil being torn open. Impatiently you wiggle your ass, arching your back even more, presenting yourself. In reward you get several more slaps, making you cry out as the pain shoots straight to your cunt.

"Oh, angel, keep talking sweet like that and you'll earn yourself another orgasm."

His dick notches at your opening and you still obediently. Both of you moan in unison as he presses inside. He's clearly on the bigger side but there is hardly any resistance since you're dripping with slick. In moments you're fuller than you've been in months, clawing at the sheets in front of you.

"Good girl, taking me so fucking well," his hands spread your cheeks. "I wish you could see how your greedy little pussy is swallowing me."

"Wa-want it, master, want it so much, feels so good!"

A wail leaves you as he starts pistoning his hips into you. If it weren't for the fact that he also pulls your hips back towards him every time, you'd end up with your head in the wall.

"Give me your hands," he instructs and you put them behind your back quickly, folding them and gripping your underarms. His vibranium hand closes around both your wrists while the other grabs your hair, pulling your head back.

You love his harsh grip on you, how he does what he wants with your body while he fucks you. All you can do is moan and whine and cry as he thrusts without any sign of slowing down any time soon. Usually around this time your FWB is about to come, and even though you're always satisfied in the end, sometimes you wish for more. The serum in his veins must give him superhuman stamina when it comes to everything.

Without warning he releases your hair and pulls hard on your arms, raising your body from the bed, his free hand coming round to grab your neck.

"Color?" He grunts, never missing a beat with his hips.

"Green! Bucky it's fucking green. Please! More!"

"You dirty little slut! Can't get enough of my cock huh?"

"No, master, want it always!" You cry.

"That's fucking right, god you feel so good. Next time I'm going to fuck you raw and watch the cum pour out of your pussy. How about right before Tony's big party? Put you in a short little dress with no panties so everyone can see my cum running down your legs."

The image of yourself, flustered and embarrassed while Bucky parades you around makes you keen, pushing back against him. You are nothing but his toy, he can do whatever he wants and you would gladly say 'Yes, master.'

The incessant need to come makes your legs weak, trembling from being held up and fucked within an inch of your life.

"Master, can I come? Your dick feels so good, can I please come on it?"

Releasing your wrists, his vibranium arm comes around your waist, pulling you flush with his chest before traveling down to your aching clit.

"This what you need, angel?"

The unrelenting metal against the softest part of your flesh pulls more desperate sounds from you as you try to rock against it, the pleasure eating you up from the inside, erasing every trace of cognitive thought. When you don’t answer he chuckles next to your ear, "I think my cock has made you dumb, angel. No thoughts left in that tiny little head of yours."

Your hands land on his arm, needing something to hold onto. He hasn’t permitted you yet, the orgasm is shimmering right underneath your skin, threatening to break through any second. The only thing you know is that you don’t want to disappoint him.

"My angel is doing so good, go ahead and come for me, make sure you scream my name when you do. Let everyone hear that this cunt belongs to me."

Instead of continuing with his fingers, his whole palm lands on your clit, a few slaps that don’t hurt in the slightest, only enhancing your pleasure, before the heel of his hand presses against your clit.

"Come on, show me how you look when you let go. Be a good little angel for me, come on my cock."

In a blinding light of pleasure, you scream his name, just like he wants, bending your head until it rests against his shoulder, shuddering and shaking from the release.

"Looking beautiful my little angel, so fucking pretty, strangling my cock." He hugs you tightly towards him for a second before pushing you forward. Your arms only cushion the fall lightly, there is no strength left in your body. Looking over your shoulder you see his eyes, blazing with lust, his mouth slightly open. Then he pulls out and you watch him tear the condom off, jerking himself, and with a loud groan of your name he finishes on your ass and back. As the spurts of cum hit your skin you close your eyes and sigh in contentment. Owned. Used. Satisfied for the first time in months.

With a giggle you fall to the side, uncaring if you're messing up his sheets. He lands on his back in front of you a moment later, chest still heaving.

"That was…" he begins, turning his head towards you with a small smile. Before continuing he rolls over on his side, reaching and pulling you in towards his naked chest, tilting your head up, and placing a small chaste kiss on your lips.

"Amazing? Wonderful? Mind-blowing?" you suggest with a smile to finish his sentence.

"All of the above angel."

For a couple of minutes, you lie there, just content with what just happened, before Bucky says,

"Come on, we need to clean you up."

He stands from the bed and picks you up with no effort, carrying you to the small bathroom and turning on the shower. Carefully he places you down on the tile and the warm spray is a harsh contrast to the cold sweat that has dried on your skin.

"How do you feel?"

Your only response is a happy humming noise that makes him smile, before he reaches for a bottle of shower gel. He makes you turn around, leaning your arms against the wall as he begins to clean you. His touch is firm as he washes your back and ass, giving you a light massage before he moves on to the rest of your body. Then you help him, even if what you do is mostly smear suds over his pecs. When he's done the both of you stand under the warm spray.

"Any immediate soreness?" He asks.

"No," you sigh happily. "Might feel something tomorrow, but we'll see then."

He finds you a clean towel afterward and dries you off, before handing you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. Without questioning you put them on.

Fortunately, the sheets have minimal staining and both of you are too exhausted to care about changing them. Suddenly you realize you've just fucked Bucky and now you're staying in his bed for the night, with your head resting on his chest.

"What is this Bucky?" you mumble, even as sleep is dragging you down.

"Whatever you want it to be, angel, we'll work out the details in the morning," he assures you.

And if the other people at the compound heard you the night before, or notice that you're wearing one of Bucky's t-shirts to breakfast the next day, nobody says a word.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #avengers!bucky barnes #avengers!bucky barnes x avengers!reader #dom!bucky #sub!reader #veltana writes

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imjusttpeachy · 3 years

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sleepy angel. (c.h.)

Can I please request some cute corpse husband fluff. I really want something adorable and cute with him. Like playing with the readers hair and cuddles and that. -anon

okay yall i hope this isn’t too weird but i saw a tiktok abt it and thought it was the cutest thing ever and just— i needed to write about it. pretty short but i’m just getting back into writing sorryyyy

please check out the warnings!!

playlist

the licks - lavender kiss

wet bandits - movies as friends

puma blue - want me

dre’es - warm

daniel ceasar - get you

summary: reader is feeling a little cuddly but doesn’t want to disturb Corpse during his stream. who knew the floor could be so comfortable?

word count: 944

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, dom/sub undertones???, basically you sit on the floor and he plays with your hair pls don’t read if uncomfy with stuff like that

•••

You didn’t consider yourself a clingy girlfriend.

No, not at all.

It wasn’t clingy to want to be around your favourite person at all times, just to be sure that they’re safe and happy and not too stressed, right? Just to be sure.

Well, that’s what you told yourself anyway as you crawled out of bed and shuffled toward your boyfriend’s office where he was currently streaming. He probably still had a few hours left, but your skin was itching to feel his touch. You had already spent the past couple hours smothering yourself in his hoodie and comforter, reveling in his addicting smell. Though, even with the soft plush completely surrounding you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of just needing to be near him.

You shouldn’t distract him— that was the last thing he needed when he was already so anxious during streams, but it couldn’t hurt to just sit with him, right? It may even be relaxing to have you there, just keeping him company.

Pushing open the door to his office slowly, you peeked in through the crack, eyes immediately spotting that messy mop of black hair only illuminated by the monitor’s light in front of it. You found it odd at first, that he liked playing in the dark, but realized how much smaller it made the room feel therefore being more comforting to him. Finally gathering all your nerve, you pushed the door open and slipped inside the dark room quickly shutting it behind you. You felt kinda creepy, hiding in the shadows and against the walls of the room but you didn’t want to scare him at a bad point in the game and embarrass him in front of his audience. Watching his monitor from over his shoulder, you thought of a plan as you waited for the round to end. You didn’t want to distract him, so sitting in his lap was a big no; glancing downward though, a grin began to pull at you lips as you finally figured it out.

The game went on for maybe another minute or so before the ending screen played and all the characters began transporting back into the lobby— it was go-time. Silently slinking down to your hands and knees, you slowly crawled over to the side of the chair before hooking your chin over his thigh and gazing up at him. You felt his body jerk slightly at the pressure on his thigh, his gaze shooting down from the monitor and locking onto yours as you grinned at him from the floor. He gaped at you for a second before his hand shot out to mute his mic.

“Baby, what-“

“Just wanna be with you,” You could hear the confusion in his tone before you cut him off with your quiet mumble, sighing softly and closing your eyes as you settled in your place, hands folding to rest in your lap as to not accidentally reach out and wrap around his leg as well. Though, as the room settled into silence your brow furrowed as you lifted your chin off of his thigh to look up at him, mind beginning to race with the thought of making him uncomfortable. “Is... Is that okay? I’m sorry I should’ve-“

“No, no it’s okay bunny, I was just surprised.” It was his turn to cut off your nervous rambling just as you began to spiral, his hand coming down to rest against your jaw tilting your gaze back up until it locked with his again. His eyes drifted over your face as you looked up at him with probably the most lovesick expression painted all over your face, nuzzling into the warmth of his hand. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as you settled your chin back over his thigh, sighing in content. Your eyes were fluttering closed when he spoke up again. “Are you sure you’re okay down there?”

A soft hum was your only response as you shuffled closer to him, finally giving in and wrapping your arms around his calf; he tensed for a moment and you were just about to unravel yourself from him again when he relaxed before a large hand found it’s place atop your head. You could practically feel yourself melt into him as he began to card his fingers through your hair, another soft hum escaping your lips in content as his nails scratched along your scalp. Chuckling softly, he leaned back toward him set up and reached for his mic, the hand in your hair still carding slowly through your locks causing you to shiver every so often when his rings ran along your skin.

“Hey, sorry, (Y/N) just needed to ask me something.” You giggled softly as he lied right through his teeth to his stream-mates. It was harmless though, just a little funny; you couldn’t hear them anyway. Even if you could though, all you could focus on was the hand running continuously over your head despite the game starting up again.

“Nah just what I want to eat, we can literally never decide what to have…” His words trailed off of your focus as your body relaxed even further into his. The soothing motion of his hand beginning to lull you to sleep no matter how much you tried to fight it off. His thumb began to run along the cheek that wasn’t smushed against his thigh as you floated in and out of consciousness, his touch so gentle you’d begin to think you’re made of glass. You could barely make out his mumbled words as his soft touches finally plunged you in the depths of sleep.

“Sweet dreams, princess”

•••

When your eyes fluttered open again they were immediately met with pitch black, which would’ve startled you if not for the solid form resting halfway on top of your body; your mouth pulling into a wide grin as you felt the slow breaths of your person warm the crook of your neck. Reaching toward your nightstand, you pat around blindly until your hand lands on your phone— as much as you didn’t want to move, you didn’t know how much time has passed since you had joined Corpse in his office. Squinting as the light from your phone flooded the room, you quickly turned down the brightness before looking at the time, confirming that you definitely didn’t have anywhere to be for at least the next few hours.

However, as you continued to stare down at your phone you began to scroll through the seemingly never-ending mentions, you only became more and more confused. Finally biting the bullet and tapping on one it immediately opened your screen to Corpse’s Instagram— but more importantly, a picture of you.

There you were, completely relaxed face smushed against his thigh as you slept soundly, but that wasn’t all. That signature hand had taken it’s place carding through your hair just as he did to lull you to sleep. Your heart was already fluttering as you stared at the photo on your screen but you think it might’ve stopped as your eyes caught the caption.

corpsehusband: “sleepy angel”

•••

@.valkyrae: was this during the stream? omg corpse you liar

@.sykkuwu: u guys are so cute

@.jacksepticeye: SIMP

@.bretmanrock: jealous 🙄 corpse baby i thought we had something

@.tinakitten: okay loverboy

•••

hey guys long time no see! i was gonna make a post abt why i was gone for so long but i think that’d be overkill. i’m okay now and i’m very excited to keep writing for you!

i think i’m gonna branch out to other fandoms as well but idk yet. i’m working through the requests in my inbox rn so i’m gonna do those first. gonna open up drabble requests too!

okay that’s it! thanks for reading as always, let me know what u think down below or in my asks! love you guys, hope you’re doin well <3

#peachyrequests #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse x you #corpse imagine #corpse husband imagine

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peachycheol · 3 years

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| lost in translation |

➸ summary: jeonghan asks you to translate some of his fans’ comments, but you hadn’t expected them to be so... dirty. ➸ genre: pwp ➸ pairing: idol!jeonghan x english-speaking friend!reader ➸ warning: dirty talk, oral sex (m. and fem. receiving), face fucking, deep throating, cum swallowing <333, **the italicized comments are in english** ➸ w.c: 2.6k

➸ author’s note: hi i’m alive!! i’m so sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long, but i kinda just lost my mojo for a little bit 😔 but worry not- i have experienced a reawakening and i am now more of a whore than ever so hopefully i can get back to posting more. i have a lot i have planned out, but i wanted to get a quick fic out to y’all as a BIG THANK YOU bc i reached so many milestones while i was gone 🥺 🥰 💕 i love you guys and i’m really glad ppl are reading my fics haha

this fic is based on the infamous jeonghan gym video, y’all know the one (thank you to @haechanblr for reminding me of it and helping me with this fic i love u so much!!). i was actually in the middle of writing this when hoshi decided to post his own gym video and PHEW. JEEZ. I’M STILL RECOVERING. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this one bc i really enjoyed writing it 💖 🍑

[ foreversvt ] commented: I AM ON MY KNEES [ yoon1004 ] commented: is it jeonghan’s birthday or is it mine [ happy bday angel! ] commented: YOON JEONGHAN ???? [ twinkluvr69 ] commented: grrr wanna slurp those noodle arms like spaghetti

You continue scrolling through the comments left underneath the video, trying to keep your face composed as you come across more and more explicit reactions from fans all over the world. Seokmin had uploaded the video to Weverse as an innocent birthday prank for Jeonghan, but he probably had not anticipated just how horny their fans could get over a seemingly harmless video of Jeonghan doing some leg presses. To be fair to the fans though, you yourself had watched the clip several times and you would be lying if you didn’t say you were… affected.

“Well? What are they saying?” Jeonghan leans over to watch you scroll, and you are acutely aware of the warmth of his arm pressing against yours. The two of you are sitting on the floor of your living room with your backs resting against your couch, hanging out after a small birthday dinner with some of his other friends. As one of Jeonghan’s english-speaking friends, he had asked you to help him translate some of his birthday wishes before his day ended, though you’re not sure how to tell him that his fans are not exactly sending in wholesome professions of love.

Instead, you decide to try giving him some tamer versions in the hopes of satisfying him before you get to anything too blunt. “This user says you have noodle arms, but I think they like it so it’s okay.”

“Hey! I’ve been trying my best to get thicker, but not all of us can be born beefed up like Seungcheol.”

“You asked me what they said!” you laugh. “Most of these are just birthday messages anyway-- I’m sure you don’t need me to translate ‘Happy birthday, I love you!’ a thousand times.”

“Yeah, obviously I understand the more common phrases, but there’s so many that I don’t understand today for some reason!” Jeonghan huffs, then points to a comment that you had purposefully hid under your thumb. “Like okay, what’s that one say?”

[ seungcheolswife ] commented: wow the way this video made my pussy clench,,,,

“Uh,” you start, already feeling your ears go warm. Should you just lie? It’s not like he would be able to tell, right? You and Jeonghan are close, but not so close that you can just say these things to him. Especially when this comment may be hitting a little too close to home for you. Even now, you remember the bolt of arousal that shot to your pussy the moment you heard Jeonghan’s first grunt of effort. You bite your lip. No, Jeonghan really didn’t need to know about that. “I-it says something like ‘you made their heart flutter’.”

“Wait.” Jeonghan takes a moment to scan your face before his eyes narrow at you suspiciously. You give him your best innocent smile, but you already know he’s caught you. You had always been a shitty liar. “What does it really say? Is it bad?”

You sigh. Of course he hadn’t bought it. “No, it’s not bad. I just don’t know if you want to hear stuff like this…”

“Well now I have to know. Tell me exactly what it says.”

“E-exactly?” You meet Jeonghan’s stern gaze and you know that there’s no convincing him otherwise. What Jeonghan wants, Jeonghan gets. “I-it says that the video made their p-pussy clench.”

After several beats of silence, you look over to Jeonghan to see he is completely unaffected by the comment. Or maybe he is. His eyes glint mischievously in the light when he responds. “I said exactly, baby. Try again.”

Your whole body feels hot under his smug, expectant gaze; you should be surprised by the sudden pet name, but it only makes your mind fuzzy with the beginnings of arousal. You swallow thickly, unable to disobey him. “T-this video made m-my pussy clench.”

“So naughty… Just this short clip has your cute little pussy all needy,” Jeonghan clicks his tongue, but a knowing grin spreads on his lips. His words have you shifting in your seat in an attempt to relieve the dull ache setting in between your legs, though you don’t dare let it on. It’s clear Jeonghan is playing a game with you, and although you know you’re going to lose, you’ll be damned if you let him win so easily. “Let’s read some more, hm? Translate this one for me.”

[ daddy_hannie ] commented: omg i bet jeonghan makes the hottest sounds when he’s fucking

The comment he scrolls to nearly makes you whimper. It’s embarrassing how clearly you can recall the sound of each of his low groans coming through the screen, how sexy he sounded. Images of Jeonghan on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed as he grits out desperate groans of pleasure, leave you in a daze while your panties quickly dampen with your arousal.

“Go on.” Jeonghan’s firm tone only makes you squirm more, and this time he takes note of the way your breathing has gone shallow and how your eyes are already hazy.

“I bet Jeonghan makes the hottest sounds when he’s fucking,” you say softly.

Jeonghan chuckles, his breath tickling against your neck. “Now you’re just making me blush, sweetheart. I bet you’d make some pretty noises when I’m fucking into you too,” he muses casually. You finally let out a soft whine, tired of holding your breath as he moves to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“J-jeonghan…”

“Hm, I think we should read a couple more,” the boy says, ignoring you and scrolling through more of the comments. You pout - your wetness has already soaked through your panties, your cunt just aching for his attention, but of course Jeonghan isn’t done teasing you.

You’re wondering how long it will take for him to finally push your back to the floor and fuck you senseless when you spot a comment that might help you get you what you want quicker. ”I want to read this one,” you tell him, already rubbing your thighs together in anticipation.

[ ~hanniehae!~ ] commented: god i KNOW your dick is big like PLEASE I WANNA SUCK UR DICK SO BAD

He raises an amused eyebrow at you, and you wait for him to stop you, biting back a smile when he doesn’t. You make sure to look him in the eyes when you say it, his own dark eyes telling you that he’s impatient for you too, and you nearly let it out in a whine from how much you mean it. “Please Jeonghan… I want to suck your dick so bad.”

For a sliver of a moment, Jeonghan goes rigid. Then, his smug smile returns as he brings up a thumb to tug on your bottom lip. “Mmm, such a pretty mouth saying such filthy words,” he sighs, shaking his head. “If you wanted to put it to good use, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

Jeonghan chuckles at how eagerly you follow him as he moves to sit on the couch behind you, keeping his hold on your chin so that you keep your eyes on his. He has you kneel between his legs and you don’t waste any time in reaching for the button and zipper on his jeans.

The man helps you tug his pants and boxers down to his ankles, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock springing back against his stomach. Of course it’s pretty just like the rest of him. “You’ve been teasing me all this time, but you’re already this hard?” you whisper tauntingly as you lean forward to ghost your lips over the base of his shaft.

Jeonghan’s shaky exhale does not go unnoticed by you, but his response comes out smooth as ever. “Could you blame me? You just looked so cute getting all worked up from saying all those dirty things about me. I bet your little panties are soaked through by now-- guh!” He lets out a surprised groan when you suddenly flatten your tongue against him, letting it drag slowly up to his tip.

“You talk too much.” You look up at him with a smile before you wrap your lips around his leaking tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. Teasingly, you swirl your tongue against his slit until you feel his hand thread through your hair, as though he’s begging you for more. You decide to be nice, lowering your mouth further down his cock, letting him feel the slide of your wet tongue on his sensitive skin.

A soft sigh leaves his lips at the sensation, pleasantly carding his fingers through your hair as you take as much of him as you can. “That’s it. Good girl.”

His praise has you clenching around nothing, and you whine as you steadily begin to bob your head along his hard cock, reveling in how he would let out small whimpers whenever you would lightly suckle on it.

Just as he gets used to the feeling of your mouth on him, you suddenly take him as deep as you can into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks tightly around his cock. “Oh, f-fuck!” Jeonghan lets out a strangled moan, his hips lifting from the couch to fuck further into your mouth.

You feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, but it only spurs you on even more as you swallow around him, causing him to throw his head back in ecstasy. At this point, a dull ache starts setting in your jaw and drool begins to messily slip from the corners of your mouth as you return to sucking him at a more steady pace, and you feel your pussy throb from how dirty it all felt. Though you and Jeonghan did flirt occasionally, he had always felt off-limits to you-- he’s an idol and you’re just one of his normal-person friends. But here you are with his cock in your mouth, all thanks to the horny thoughts of his fans no less.

To their credit, they were right. Jeonghan does make the hottest sounds while fucking. He lets out another throaty groan from above you and, unexpectedly, he pulls you off his cock. His pupils are blown wide with desire, his chest heaving slightly as he looks at the state you’re in with your swollen lips and the drool on your chin. “Can I fuck your mouth?” he asks breathlessly.

“Yes please,” you reply, voice already a little hoarse from your efforts. You shift back on your knees to make room for Jeonghan when he stands, opening your mouth obediently when he moves to slide his cock back onto your tongue. Jeonghan tightens his grip on your hair, keeping you still as he starts to fuck into your mouth with quick, shallow thrusts. “Mmh!”

“Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, baby,” Jeonghan sighs appreciatively. You bring your hands up to grip at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady when his thrusts become a little more erratic, causing you to gag around him as his cock continues to hit the back of your throat. Still, all your focus remains on hearing more of Jeonghan’s pleasured groans, on seeing his face scrunch up in absolute bliss, so you keep your mouth open wide despite the tears that prick at your eyes. When Jeonghan looks down at you taking his cock, eyes glazed over and fucked out, he curses loudly. “Shit-- can I come in your mouth?”

Unable to speak with your mouth stuffed full, you cutely give him a thumbs up. Jeonghan would have laughed if he wasn’t so close to cumming. With several more thrusts, he cries out a strained warning before his hot release fills your mouth. He rides out his orgasm, twitching in your hold as his pleasure bleeds into oversensitivity. Once he’s pulled out, you make sure to stick your tongue out so he can see how his cum coats your tongue right before you swallow it all down; all he can do is smile thinking about how he really should have fucked you sooner.

“So good for me,” Jeonghan says to you softly, helping you up to your feet so that he can pull you into a heated kiss full of tongue and whimpers. You desperately grip onto Jeoghan’s shirt, pressing your body against him in search for some sort of relief for the arousal that is pumping through you and straight to your neglected pussy. He can’t help but smile against your lips. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you now.”

You let him lead you to sit on the couch-- this time you are the one sitting on the edge of the cushions with Jeonghan’s head between your legs. He slides a hand over your clothed core, humming when he finds that you really have soaked straight through your panties. Just as you begin to squirm underneath his teasing fingers, he strips you of both your leggings and underwear in one swift movement, leaving you bare before him.

The sight of him pushing your legs apart is enough to leave you in a daze. Your breath catches when you feel cool air brushing against your inner thighs, slick with your wetness, then it all comes out in a whine when you feel Jeonghan’s velvet tongue swipes at the spot for a taste. “O-oh!” a cry slips from your lips once his tongue finally slides through your folds. “Mmh!”

“Does it feel good?” Jeonghan whispers, not bothering to wait for a proper answer because your broken moans tell him to keep going. He spreads your lips open with his fingers, eating you out slowly and deliberately as though he is savoring his favorite meal.

The room is filled with your soft whimpers and the lewd sounds of Jeonghan’s mouth working against your pussy and it only tightens the pressure in your stomach, causing your toes to curl. “P-please-- please let me cum,” you rasp out, and your eyes roll to the back, your hand clutching tightly at the back of Jeonghan’s head, at the feeling of his tongue flattening against your clit. “Ngh! Y-yes!”

He skillfully flicks his tongue on your bud, shaking his head back and forth until his chin is absolutely covered in your juices. When your hips begin to move of their own accord, he lets you ride his face as you please, his cock twitching at how desperate you are for him. “S-so good,” you sob, only able to mutter unintelligible nonsense in your delirium. Then, he wraps his mouth around your clit, and you’re left squealing as your legs begin to shake from how obscenely good it feels. “Shit, I-- I’m--!”

You come undone with a loud cry of Jeonghan’s name, your body going rigid from how hard your orgasm hits you. Jeonghan takes it all, his eyes closed as he works you through your release, only letting up when you slump away from him.

The both of you finally look at each other properly in the aftermath, chests heaving and hair wild. Suddenly you’re both erupting in giggles at the realization of what you two had just done. “What are you looking at?” Jeonghan asks, eyes bright as he smiles handsomely up at you.

You reach down to swipe your thumb against his chin, which is still shining with your cum, barely able to contain your giggles. “Who’s got the dirty mouth now?”

#svtredroom #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #svt smut #m:yjh #g:pwp #l:os #hehehehe surprise #kiss for good luck mwah

819 notes · View notes

writersmorgue · 3 years

Text

Something Immortal

word count - 3k

warnings: suicide attempt, drug use, addiction, cursing, teenagers being gross

pairing: model!Todoroki x canon!Bakugo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Holy shit guys he posted!!" Mina squeals, vaulting herself over the couch to reach the rest of the Bakusquad sitting on the common room carpet. An old original copy of Monopoly splayed out in the center of their group.

"Ooh, show us! Show us!" Kaminari leans forward, swiping half of the properties off the board in the process.

Sero groans, "Dude you do this every time!!"

The blond pouts, "Hey it's your fault I was losing."

Kirishima just chuckles, picking up his dog piece from jail and throwing it into the box.

"Your smart people game can wait," Mina tugs on Sero's ponytail, "He hasn't posted in weeks."

"Oh my god he's so fucking hot," Kaminari's knee-jerk reaction is whispered as soon as he sees the post.

Todoroki Shouto, one of Japan- and America's- most well-known models. The teenager, who happens to be their age, regularly models for magazines like Vogue, Joker, and Elle. The teenager who has starred in countless American and Japanese short and independent films. The teenager who just so happens to be the son of the number one hero, Endeavor.

No one knows his quirk, but it just adds to the mystery. Some people theorize he's quirkless, but others think he's got a crazy dangerous quirk, which is why he's a model instead of an aspiring hero. Not like he's not perfect for the job, with his gorgeous bi-colored hair and heterochromatic eyes. The scar on his left side somehow only adds to his beauty. It doesn't matter what your sexuality is, you simp for Todoroki Shouto.

But that's the obvious, now this photo- this photo.

"It's ethereal, I've never seen him look so serene before."

"He's an actual angel."

"How is he only eighteen?!"

Mina nods as Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima go through the seven stages of grief just looking at the photo.

Kirishima's eyes dart to Todoroki's username... which is just Shouto. In fact, the Todoroki name isn't mentioned once on his account, a fact that has hundreds of conspiracy theories on its own.

"Hey Meens, can we stalk him real quick? I wanna see who he's following."

She grins, "Well anything for you, munchkin."

Sero snorts. Their couple nicknames never fail to amuse anyone within hearing range.

"Ugh gross," Kaminari gags as Mina giggles, swiping off of the picture (which already has over 600,000) and onto his main page.

It's simple, plain yet elegant in the way only a PR manager could manage.

The bio is a link to his most recent shoot with some magazine that Kirishima doesn't recognize, the profile picture is a rare shot of him smiling, a blue checkmark, and a follower count of over four million.

His following count, however, is the shocker.

"He only follows fourteen people?" Sero whispers, clicking on the number.

"Huh," Mina turns the phone slightly so she can see, "Who is he following?"

"Let's see," Sero squints, eyes scrolling down the list, "Hawks... his siblings... Mirko... some American models... his agency's profile... and- wait, isn't that Bakugo?"

"HAH?" Mina yells, whipping the phone around and clicking on the profile.

Sure enough, a slew of photos shows up on her screen, all of their resident blond pomeranian glaring at the camera in various locations.

"He- WHAT?? It must be a glitch!" Mina scrambles frantically, eyes darting across the screen.

"Uh, yeah," Kirishima chuckles, "a glitch."

Mina scrolls up numerous times as if refreshing the page will help.

"I mean what other explanation can you think of?! It's not like Thee Todoroki Shouto would know our Bakugou, they're totally in different leagues." Mina sounds absolutely scandalized, causing Sero to laugh.

"I don't know, Meens, the proof is right there. We should ask him about it!"

"And what- DIE?" Kaminari reasons.

Sero nods, "Fair point."

"Pussies." Mina stands, planting her manicured hands on the edge of the couch, "I'll ask him myself."

"I REFUSE." A fourteen-year-old Shouto screams at his father.

"what do you mean you refuse? Shouto she's a lovely girl, and you need to procreate while you're still young if you're not going to become a hero like I want. You get one or the other." Todoroki Enji grabs his youngest child by the arm to lead him out of the kitchen, but Shouto jerks out of his grip. "Wh- SHOUTO."

"I'm going to live with Fuyumi. She'll take care of me." He holds his ground, shaking his father off when he tries once again to physically lead him out of the room.

"OH?" Enji bellows a laugh, "And how do you expect she'll find the money to take you in? Raising a teenager is expensive, you know, and she's only a simple school teacher."

"She's not a simple anything. And I- I'll find a way. We'll be fine. I already talked to several agencies."

"...agencies?"

"Wait, Mina!!" Kaminari calls after the girl, but she's a woman on a mission and there's no stopping her.

They arrive at Bakugo's door in a heap, Kaminari clawing at Mina while she knocks calmly. Kirishima and Sero stand to watch because they have no idea what else to do. (They're just as nervous as Kaminari but they're more afraid of Mina if they're being honest.)

A crash comes from inside the room, but soon their resident angry boy is slamming open his door and glaring at them. The normalcy is comforting.

"Do you fuckers realize what fucking time it is?"

"Yes~" Mina coos sweetly, "I know old men need their sleep but it's only 8:30 and we have a question."

He sighs aggressively and stretches his arms behind his back, cracking his shoulders and then his neck, Kaminari whimpers in fear.

"Alright, what do you want pinky?"

She's practically vibrating with excitement at this point.

"Why is Todoroki Shouto following you on Instagram?"

Bakugo seems to mull over this for a moment, and then he just shrugs.

Mina nods like this answers any part of her question, "That's what I thought, funny glitch. He's pretty hot though, right?"

The rest of the group nods emphatically.

Bakugo scratches his leg with his other heel, "He's not ugly, I guess."

Mina waves her arms around in Bakugo's general direction, "See!!? Even the straight guy agrees!!"

"No one was disagreeing with you, Mina." Sero snickers.

Bakugo grunts, then promptly slams the door in their faces.

"Well I guess that was more than he'd usually do at this time, we're lucky we didn't get exploded." Kirishima muses.

Kaminari nods, shuddering at the thought.

"Welp! That answers our question!" Although it really didn't, no one was about to argue with Mina, "Anyway I'm going to bed."

"Say hi to your vibe for me!" Sero whispers after her.

She waves as she marches away, humming to herself.

Shouto stares at the street below.

He wonders if he'd die falling from a height like this. He hopes he doesn't hit anyone.

Slowly, he removes his expensive sneakers, dropping them on the modelling agency's roof beside him. It's breezy tonight, and Shouto, freshly sixteen, has nothing to live for anymore. So he won't.

Stepping carefully over the guardrail, not sure why since he's about to jump. Maybe part of him is still afraid.

Whatever he can get over it.

His thin frame wobbles in the wind, and he breathes deeply, too focused on relaxing to notice the roof door opening, and hurried steps coming up behind him.

A warm hand grabs him, almost startling him off the side of the building.

The interruption heaves heavy breaths in his ear as they both topple down onto the concrete floor.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" Oh, it's Bakugo.

The only child of his manager, Mitsuki Bakugo, who happens to be a nosy little shit who can't stay out of other people's business.

"Get OFF" Shouto shoves him, frantically scrambling toward the railing again. He needs this.

"NO! Todoroki get the fuck back-"

"It's SHOUTO." blood spurts onto his gray sweater and he realizes with muted horror that he just elbowed his employer's son in the nose.

"Fuck I'm so sorry, are you okay?" He bends down, removing his trashed pullover, and holds it to his friend's nose.

Bakugo snorts, "Sorry- Shouto I mean." He winces when Shouto presses harder into his face, "I'll forgive you if you don't jump."

Shouto sighs, "You know why I was going to."

Bakugo visibly calms at the use of past tense, the outburst must have snapped him out of it.

"Your mom, right?" Shouto tenses.

"Yeah I- he barred me from ever seeing her again and I- I don't know what to do." He shudders and pulls his pills from his pants pocket.

He wonders what his mom would say if she found out her baby was addicted to drugs.

Bakugou frowns but lets his friend take the pill, not sure what to say.

"Fucking piece of shit. Is that even legal?"

"Legally the number two hero can do whatever the fuck he wants. We live in a flawed world, Bakugo.

"I- Shouto."

"Hmm?" Shouto collapses onto the ground, crunching the pill and sighing as he feels the effects start to take almost immediately.

"I care- I care about you, okay? So please let me help you. Let me get you help."

A tear slips down to Shouto's ear without his permission, he wipes it away as quickly as it came.

"I don't know, Bakugo. You haven't exactly seemed to like me in the past. Even though I like to think we're friends I know you don't feel the same." He frowns, admiring the shine of wetness on his palm in the moonlight.

Bakugo grumbles, "Don't fuckin' tell me what I do and don't feel. I really fuckin' care about you even though I'm an ass about it, okay? I'm not good with emotions so don't expect much from me. But I do want you to be happy and I don't think the uh- the pills are helping."

The blond holds out a hand and reluctantly Shouto slaps the container into it.

"Fine," he mumbles, "you're uh- not as bad as I thought."

Bakugo snorts, "You're just as bad as I thought, but I like you anyway."

Against his will, Shouto finds himself blushing, thankful that it's mostly hidden in the dark.

"C'mon," Bakugo gestures to his own chest, "I know you could use one."

Shouto whimpers as he curls himself into the blond's strong frame. He's built a lot of muscle since starting at UA this year.

A strong hand rubs along his back and Shouto finds he can't hold back his tears any longer as the shock starts to set in.

Fuck he almost just killed himself.

"Thanks, Bakugo."

"I almost just watched you die, you can call me Katsuki."

"Thanks, Katsuki."

"No problem, Shouto."

The Bakusquad once again finds themselves playing a game on the common room floor, this time Sorry, much to Sero's chagrin.

"Sorry!" Kirishima grins cheekily as he kicks Sero's piece back to his home base.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck you guys-" He groans, flopping back onto the loveseat behind him, only to get an eyeful of Bakugo Katsuki's ass, "Oh hey Bakugou!"

"Wh- OI TAPE FACE WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU'RE LOOKING-"

Sero snickers, patting Bakugou on the hip, "Sorry dude, it was literally right there."

Small explosions popped from Bakugo's hands as he growled down at Sero.

"Aw come on blasty he's just playing and WHERE are you going dressed like that???!!!"

Bakugo blushes and tugs his light blue blazer down farther.

"I have a date." He mutters, tugging his sleeves.

“Sorry,” Kaminari laughs, “I think I misheard you. Sounded like you said ‘I have a date.’”

Bakugo rolls his eyes, “Because I do, dipshit.” He sighs, checking his -expensive-looking- watch, “Just watch the independent film awards when they’re on. I think it’s like four hours from now that it starts.”

“Whyyyy would you have anything to do with that?” Kirishima groans, very lost.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo grunts, digging his phone out of his pocket when it vibrates and checking something before humming and striding towards the front door.

He looks unusually elegant, hair slicked back probably as well as Bakugo’s hair can be, shirt tucked in, a few rings on his fingers, barely visible and yet beautifully drawn eyeliner. He’s… pretty.

The three remaining members of the Bakusquad, as well as the rest of the common room, sit there in awe as he shoves a permission slip in Iida’s blubbering face.

“I- Wh- Bakugo is this from Aizawa? You cannot just leave!!”

“Fuck off glasses, I have his fuckin’ blessing or whatever.”

“Bakugo!”

The blond shoots a middle finger off behind him and slams the door shut, leaving a stunned common room in his wake.

“Uh, well, that happened.” Jirou drones blandly from her place on the couch with Momo.

“Awards show watch party, anyone?!” Uraraka grins, standing, “I’ll get the mochi!!”

“I’ll make tea,” Momo stands as well, dusting off her perfectly clean jeans. Jirou groans at the loss of her girlfriend’s warmth and flops over on the couch.

“This is stupid, he probably got invited by some pro hero and he’s just going to yell at the paparazzi if he’s even gonna be there.” She pouts.

“Well,” Sero grins, “anyone wanna play Monopoly while we wait?”

Kaminari throws the Sorry board at his head.

“Alright, is everyone ready!!? The red carpet is about to start!!” Hagakure squeals, even though the entirety of class 3-A (minus Bakugo) is there.

“So… what exactly are we watching this for?” Shinsou scratches the back of his neck.

“Bakugo’s going to be in it apparently, the study group earlier saw him in the common room wearing a suit.” Ojiro answers.

“Not just a suit!!” Mina holds her hands out as if to deliver groundbreaking news, “A fancy suit.”

“Aren’t all suits fancy?”

“Shut up.”

“OOH LOOK there’s Arai Itō and Chiba Yoshida!! Aww, they’re so cute!” Uraraka swoons, clasping her hands together.

“I wonder when Kacchan is gonna come out, these things can take a while.”

“I honestly don’t even care, I heard Todoroki Shouto is nominated for an award this year!! Do you remember that really sad short film he was in about having an overdose? Gosh, I hope he wins.” Hagakure’s hair bow vibrates excitedly.

“THERE HE IS THERE HE IS!!!!!” She points at the bottom of the screen where a man in a pale blue dress has stepped out of a limo and onto the carpet, a heeled foot gracefully raising him to his full 6’2”.

“Holy shit he’s gorgeous.” Sero breathes, the reporters on screen basically saying the same thing.

Shouto reaches behind him and holds out a hand for the second person stepping out of the limo, broad shoulders, a shorter stature than Shouto especially with the heels, spiky blond hair, piercing red eyes-

…

“HOLY SHIT IS THAT BAKUGOU??”

The aerial camera pans down toward the blond, showing off his suit- which matches Shouto’s dress perfectly- and his, what appears to be professionally done hair.

“Holy shit does he have an undercut now!!?? We just saw him a few hours ago!” Mina screeches.

Momo shrugs, “They do that sort of thing for celebrities.” She sips her tea, unphased.

“Okay okay, we’re all ignoring the most important part. Kacchan is Todoroki’s date.” Izuku frantically waves his arms around.

“I didn’t know they knew each other,” Tokoyami muses.

“What the fuck is happening?” Sero asks no one in particular.

“Wait everyone SHUT UP they’re announcing awards!!!! Todoroki might win one! We can ask Bakugo about this when he gets back. Surely there’s an interesting story.” Uraraka chimes in, handing out mochi and popcorn.

The tv’s voice is muffled under the muttering of several class 3-A members, but Mina turns it up as the male announcer reads the winners of the award Todoroki is nominated for.

“AAAAAAAAND THE WINNER FOR BEST ACTOR IN A DRAMA SHORT ISSSSSSSSS…

TODOROKI SHOUTO!!! For his work in The End of Me and the incredible performance that shocked-”

Cheers ring through the dorms, popcorn goes flying, and Mina frantically shushes everyone as Shouto makes his way gracefully onto the stage. He accepts the award from the previous winner, bowing elegantly and stepping up to the mic.

“Hello everyone,” He begins, shooting a shy smile directly into the camera. It has always perplexed his fans how nervous he can be in real life compared to in his photoshoots. “This is a really important award to me, not only am I incredibly grateful to the panel for gracing this title upon me, but as of yesterday,” He smiles at the ground, taking a deep breath, “I’m two years clean.”

Shocked gasps ricochet through the award hall as well as through the crowd gathered around the tv.

“He did drugs, kero?” Tsu whispers.

“Mon dieux,” Aoyama shakes his head, pressing a hand to his chest, “how brave.”

Shouto clears his breath and continues, “In fact, that wasn’t the worst of it at the time, and I’m incredibly grateful to all who have supported me through my career. You keep me sane, and you keep me going. But especially, I’d like to thank my sister, brother, and my wonderful boyfriend-”

He holds an arm out to someone in the audience, and the camera pans to none other than Bakugou Katsuki, “who quite literally saved my life, and helped me drive myself back on track. I love you Katsuki, and you continue to improve my life every second that you’re in it.”

Most of 3-A are in tears at this point, and as Bakugo half-heartedly scowls into the camera, they can tell his eyes are shining too.

Shouto glances back at the camera as if directing his words to someone in particular.

“Thank you.”

And then he’s walking back down to his seat as the audience provides him with a standing ovation.

“THEY’RE DATING,” Mina sobs, shaking Kirishima’s shoulders as he sits, staring slack-jawed at the television.

“Yeah, yeah they are.”

Katsuki does NOT wipe tears from his eyes as he helps Shouto sit back down in his seat, but his boyfriend definitely does. His mascara, thankfully waterproof, still holds strong.

Shouto shoots him a watery smile, rubbing his arm as he pulls the blond into a hug.

“Happy two years, Katsuki.”

65 notes · View notes

genesisrose74 · 4 years

Text

Believe It, Baby

AHH HELLO I LIVE!! I am so sorry about my lack of publishing content besides some general community posts as of late - I’ve probably said this before but school is a buttface sometimes :// I’ve been really enjoying the new episodes of Haikyuu so I decided to finish a self indulgent fic to try getting back on track! Kinda like how it worked out so here it is!! Yes, it is Hinata again, how did you freaking know???

Pairing: Hinata Shoyo x Fem!Reader

Words: 2122

*******

“I don’t believe it for a damn second.”

The ginger under scrutiny groans for what seemed the eighth time that day, shooting his friend an exasperated look as they walk into the practice gym. “I swear, Kageyama! She’s in the college preparatory class with Yachi!”

At this, said blonde turns her attention to the entering duo with a curious tilt of her head.

“What’s this about someone in my class?” she inquires politely.

Kageyama glances at Yachi. “Hinata says that he’s dating one of your classmates, which I say is a bunch of crap.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Bakageyama? I’m her boyfriend!”

Tsukishima scoffs from across the gym.

“Sounds like someone had too vivid of a dream last night,” he jeers, Yamaguchi snickering beside him.

Even Tanaka and Noya doesn’t seem to believe the aspiring ace, the former clapping a hand on Hinata’s shoulder with a philosopher’s air about him.

“It’s alright to be single, little man. You don’t gotta go and make something up to look cool.”

Hinata huffs before shuffling to set up the court for practice, while Sugawara takes his position as mother crow by smacking the troublemaker second years upside the head.

“I for one believe you, Hinata,” the silver haired setter declares, smiling when the first year boy beams with happiness.

“Thank you, Suga-senpai! At least someone here does.”

“Mind telling us what she’s like?” Daichi chimes in.

Hinata’s grin blossoms even wider, and his gaze turns excited. “She’s amazing, and really smart, and super competitive! And she’s...also really pretty…” he trails off in embarrassment.

Suga gushes at his flustered state, ruffling his kouhai’s mop of orange hair. “Look at you, all affectionate. She must be special.”

Yachi follows up with a nod of agreement at Sugawara’s statement, joining Hinata on the court for set up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s her name?” the manager in training questions.

When the middle blocker tells her proudly, the remaining first year boys all bust out in laughter.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Yamaguchi guffaws. “Isn’t she like one of the smartest students in our grade?”

Hinata nods affirmatively, and Tsukishima shakes his head with a dry laugh. “Try picking a more believable person next time, Hinata. There’s barely even a chance that you’ve ever crossed paths with her before, let alone dated the girl.”

Yachi, on the other hand, takes a moment to ponder on Hinata’s words, not even close to giggling like the rest of her fellow first years.

“You know,” she mumbles to herself, “that’s honestly not that far of a stretch, considering how outgoing she is.”

The orange haired boy offers her a weary half-smile for at least thinking he had a shot with who he claimed, but made no further attempt to emphasize that he was in fact dating said girl. It was clear that nearly none of the team would believe him without solid proof.

Coach Ukai grabs the team’s attention, and from then on leads a rotation of digging drills to help improve everyone’s foundational abilities. This format of training continues for most of practice, such routines making it easier for some of the boys (namely Tsukishima) to laugh about Hinata’s “attempt'' at having a girlfriend in line. Said middle blocker remains in a pouty mood due to such circumstances, but decides to keep it quiet for the time being - lest he dig a bigger hole in which his teammates could tease him.

Soon enough, practice for the day is over, and the Karasuno boys organize their things in the club room before filtering outside. As Hinata waits outside for the rest of his team to come downstairs, the whole team planning on making a stop at Ukai’s store, his phone screen lights up with a soft chime.

Hi sunshine! Did your practice just finish?

The first year smiles, knowing that you must have snuck him a text during your student council meeting, and quickly opens his phone to type something back.

Hi angel!! Yeah, we’re gonna get something at Ukai’s rn

Hinata playfully raises an eyebrow at your fast response, the chat bubble popping up right away. Usually you’re pretty invested in your club meetings, so today’s must be a pretty boring topic.

Wanna save me a meat bun pretty please 🥺

If there’s an extra I will <3

:D hehe thank u love

Tanaka’s voice breaks the ginger’s focus from his texts, the second year shouting about food as he ushers the team towards the school exit. Hinata tosses his phone into his practice bag and catches up with the walking group, his mood significantly improved from just minutes ago.

*****

The town is basked in the soft glow of street lights as the team makes their way down the hill to Ukai’s, currently unaware of a presence in a sprint to get to them.

Your fellow Student Council members had shot a bewildered look in your direction as you scrambled to pack up and hustle out the classroom door. You ushered a quick goodbye to them before stuffing your phone in your skirt pocket, determined to surprise your boyfriend after the council meeting ended early.

Maybe you were starting to regret the idea of running in the god-awful flats Karasuno High enforced in their dress code, but you pushed past the irritation in favor of keeping pace. That meat bun wouldn’t stay hot forever, you reasoned, but in reality the opportunity to see your shining boyfriend truly drove your motivation.

After finally getting a glimpse of a large group near the base of the hill, a spark of victory flames in your heaving chest at your persistence. With a heavy sigh, however, you realize that your competitive ball of energy was likely at the head of the bunch, racing that setter with whom he always argues. Your plight was not over yet.

So, attempting to reign in your eagerness to see the ginger haired boy of your affections, you continue the path down the quite steep hill, this time using the art of determined speed walking. The soles of those forsaken flats on your feet would not be forgiving if you started running again, anyways.

When you finally manage to close in on the team, Sugawara is the first to notice you, observing for a moment before nudging Daichi on his right. The Karasuno captain looks confusedly at his vice captain, the latter’s eyes holding a parent-like intuition.

“I think that’s her,” the silver haired third year murmurs, nodding his head in your direction as you make your way closer.

“Who’s her?” Daichi whispers back, and Suga looks like he’s about to karate chop him in the side.

“Hinata’s girlfriend, Dai!” he hisses. “Look at who she’s focused on.”

Daichi follows your gaze to find the little decoy first year at the end of it, causing him to raise an eyebrow in surprise. “So he really wasn’t pulling Kageyama’s leg.”

The two third years of Karasuno watch you with great interest as you inch your way to the front of their group, more of the boys taking note of your presence with the passing moments.

The only few who don’t seem to notice are the gaggle of first years in the front, many of whom are bickering with each other. Yachi is the only one in your grade to see you as she walks beside Kiyoko, and you give her a small wave before putting a finger to your lips. All she can do in response is nod, mouth slightly agape at the fact that you even acknowledged her in the midst of your pursuits.

“-If there’s an extra bun in the bag today I call dibs!”

“And since when have I ever listened to you, pipsqueak?”

“Who’re you calling pipsqueak, you giraffe!?”

You have to conceal your chuckle at the group’s antics. You’d been told a handful about the first years known as Hinata’s teammates, but had yet to formally meet them due to your consistently busy schedule. Today, you felt it was about time for that to change.

Yamaguchi picks up on you, followed quickly by Tsukkishima when his freckle-faced best friend notifies him with a tap on the shoulder. Even Kageyama, who somehow managed to get into yet another argument with Hinata, slows his banter as he gazes at you, completely bewildered.

The last person left in the dark is - of course - none other than your dumbass of a boyfriend.

“Why did you get so quiet all of a sudden?” the aspiring ace inquires. “It’s ‘cause you realized that I would win the argument anyways, huh?”

The boy jumps when he feels you sidle up next to him, brushing your arm against his own.

“Yes, sunshine, that’s surely the reason.”

The first year whips his head to face your playful smirk, before practically launching himself into you and trapping you in a bear hug.

“You surprised me!” he exclaims with a giddish grin, nuzzling into your figure.

“That was kind of my plan,” you laugh. “Student council meeting ended early, so here I am.”

Hinata didn’t seem to want to let go of you any time soon, so you resorted to taking his face in your hands and pecking his cheeks.

“You gonna introduce me or not, silly?”

The middle blocker was blushing like crazy at this point, reddening with the realization that his entire team was a current audience to the little show taking place.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend,” he gestures to you awkwardly, and you couldn’t hide the small smile that curls on your lips. “You’ve probably seen her with the Student Council before.”

You wave enthusiastically to the team, many of whom are still recovering from the newly confirmed discovery (namely, some very skeptical first years).

“So, he wasn’t joking?” Yamaguchi spoke up, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Aw yeah, Hinata!” Tanaka whistled, “Sorry that I ever underestimated you!”

“Good job, Shoyo!” Nishinoya affirms, jumping on his second year best friend in excitement. “She’s a cutie too!”

The first year squeezes your midsection tighter to your surprise, seeing as his face was practically steaming from previous team comments.

“She is cute,” he mumbles, and the unexpected statement elicits a laugh from your lips.

You tap the ginger’s nose playfully, bringing his attention to your content smile. The sight of it causes him to grin right back giddily, momentarily forgetting the larger group beside him once more. “Saved me a meat bun, Sho?”

He was like this whenever at the other’s house or on a date: mushy, cuddly, affectionate, the whole nine yards of fluffiness. Public spaces involving acquaintances, however, was a bit of a different story, as Hinata got very easily flustered in front of teasing friends. Even without meeting the other team members of Karasuno before, it was quite obvious.

“I always manage to when you ask,” he responds proudly, although a faint frown briefly appears on his features for a moment, “but Tsukishima’s being a bit of a jerk about it today.”

The blond in question sends his fellow middle blocker a look of annoyance, before his expression melts into a cheshire grin as he turns to you.

“Just didn’t want him eating too much, that’s all,” he explains. “Overindulgence isn’t a great habit for athletes, you know. But since you’re actually here and not a figment of Hinata’s imagination, that’s absolutely fine with me.”

“Hey! You saying I’m a pig or something?” the first year pipes up with a glare.

Tsukki smirks. “Or something.”

Sugawara steps in to lessen the obvious tensions between your feral ginger and the smug beanpole, giving them both a deathly glare that practically screamed, ‘don’t make me whoop your asses in front of a student council member’.

You giggled at the team’s dynamic, one that clearly resembled a rambunctious family on their nightly outing together. It really was just as you had imagined the first time your boyfriend described it to you - with maybe a bit more emphasis on the rambunctious than you had previously inferred. But it was actually quite enjoyable to be around.

As the group finally started on their way again after your surprise introduction, Hinata came up beside you once more with a curious glint in his eyes.

“What are you smiling all giddishly about?” he inquires, head tilted a fraction.

You can’t help but chuckle a bit at the question. “I just really enjoy being around your team is all.”

The aspiring ace of Karasuno interlocks his fingers with yours as you stroll along together down the street, his teammates in tow as they observe the situation before them with some remaining bewilderment.

“Good, cause I think they might like you too.”

227 notes · View notes

spicycreativity · 3 years

Note

The Core Four (Logan, Roman, Virgil and Patton) are somewhere spooky, old house, in the woods, etc etc, and it's a place where poltergeist/demon/ghost/devil/spirit/whatever you want Remus resides and haunts and is scary and evil in. (Or they summon him) And he's like "Ooh time to mess with them muahahahaha!" but he sees Patton and gets like this "Cute boy!" And gets interested in Patton instead.

Boop

Words: 2k

Pairing: Pre-slash Intruality

Other notes: College AU, mild Vitaminwater slander, somewhat based on my own college experience of being straight edge and bored all the time and also owning multiple fist-sized chunks of quartz crystal purchased from the tent outside the gas station down by the on-ramp on the far side of town 🥴 Our abandoned dorm building was not haunted, tho

Content warnings: Mentions of underage drinking (not depicted), mentions of overdosing (non-graphic), Remus is sexually forward toward Patton, swearing, innuendo, etc. Still, I'd only rate this T

While it was rooming assignments that brought Roman, Patton, Logan, and Virgil together during the first weeks at university, it was their mutual unwillingness to break any sort of rule that kept them together. While their peers were drinking smuggled alcohol and racking up write-ups from the RAs, the foursome would sit on Logan and Virgil's side of the dorm suite drinking Vitaminwater and attempting to entertain themselves with board games and Netflix. This, predictably, got old quickly and weekends soon became a desperate battle to stave off boredom and existential ennui.

The fraying thread of Roman's patience finally snapped the night Patton suggested Pogs. The lack of adventure had chafed at him longer than it had the others and he secretly longed for some sort of thrill, even if it meant breaking the rules.

"Ugh," Roman threw himself backwards onto the pillow he'd stolen from Logan's bed, nearly knocking over Patton's mostly-full bottle of grape Vitaminwater. "We're seriously so lame that we can't think of anything better to do than Pogs?"

"Hey," said Virgil from atop his bed, and shook a few drops of açai-blueberry-pomegranate sugar water onto Roman's forehead.

"Sorry, Patton," Roman added, wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant sensation. "No offense, but I'm just so bored! I was expecting more adventure when I finally left my dreary old hometown."

"I thought you told us you were from Los Angeles," Logan said, tossing a package of Wet Wipes down onto Roman's chest. "And Virgil, I understand why you would want to teach Roman a lesson, but please try not to stain my pillowcase."

"What do you wanna do, Roman?" Patton asked, adjusting himself where he was propped up against one of the legs of Logan's bed.

"I don't know! All I know is that I have the most boring Snap story out of everyone in my stupid 100-level History class. Remy went surfing the other day. And he's from Nebraska! How does he know how to surf?"

"There it is," Virgil said.

Roman sat up again and opened up the Wet Wipes so he could clean off his face. "Lightning round! Suggestions. Go!" He pointed at Virgil.

"Um," said Virgil. "Uh-- Sca-- Uh, horror marathon. Horror movie marathon."

"Ugh, no." Roman pointed at Logan.

"Studying."

"Oh, come on. Patton?"

"We all go to bed early so we can wake up and get breakfast together before the dining hall runs out of waffle batter?"

"Guuuys." Roman pointed at Virgil again.

"Man, I dunno, Roman! Like I'm the expert in what looks good on a Snapchat story."

"You're the one who's bored," Logan added. "Why don't you suggest something?"

"That's not how it works!" Roman shot back. "I'm the-- the arbiter, the czar! You're the idea guys."

"Okay, fine!" Virgil leaned over the edge of the bed to better give Roman the evil eye. "How about we break into the shut-down dorms with a ouija board and try to contact the spirit of that kid who OD'ed in the bathroom?"

"That's the spirit," Roman said.

"Ha," Patton said weakly.

"Wait," said Virgil, already desperately trying to make eye contact with Logan. "I was kidding. You can't be serious."

"No, no, that's a great idea! Virgil, go get your ouija board and whatever other spooky shit you have tucked away.

"We're going now?" Patton squeaked.

Logan sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Roman, anything you post to your Snapchat story can potentially be turned in as evidence and used to incriminate you. I suggest you leave your phone behind."

"Wait!" Virgil ran his hands through his hair, agitated. "You can't possibly be on board with this."

"I'm not," said Logan. "I am offering Roman advice for the same reason high school nurses' offices offer condoms: not as an encouragement, but as a safety measure. Either we all agree to go now or we all agree to go tomorrow night after Roman spends the whole day pouting and whining--"

"Hey!"

"So I suggest we just get it over with," Logan concluded.

"Seriously?" Patton was already pale and shaking, holding a stray hoodie of Virgil's close to his chest.

"It's okay, Patton," Virgil said, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'll let you wear my horn of protection amulet."

It took just under an hour to get everyone changed into darker clothes and outfitted with protective symbols from Virgil's collection. In addition to silver amulets and charms, he had handed out fist-sized chunks of quartz crystal to all of them with careful instructions not to lose them, as he wanted everything back at the end of the night.

But soon (all too soon for Patton) they faced the looming silhouette of the abandoned Monroe Hall. It was in surprisingly good repair despite the lack of security cameras and floodlights to deter intruders. In fact, the only light came from the blue emergency callbox situated a few yards down the path.

"We, genius," Virgil said, turning to Roman. "How do we get in?"

"I don't know!" Roman tossed up his hands. "I'd Google how to pick a lock but somebody" --he glared at Logan-- "made us leave our phones in the microwave."

"I already told you, it's a functional Faraday cage and--"

"Yeah, yeah, how about we save the science lectures for 8:00 am on Tuesdays and Thursday," Roman said.

"That was oddly specific," Virgil muttered, trying and failing to exchange a glance with Patton, who was staring at the ground and turning over the quartz crystal in his hands. "Wait, I've got an idea." He took his own chunk of quartz out of his pocket and slammed it through the glass door, sending a shower of tempered glass clattering onto the tiled floor inside. Then he stepped through the hole and beckoned the others in after him. "Let's go."

Patton made a muffled sound of fear and grabbed onto Logan's arm. "You don't really think there's a ghost, do you?"

"Of course not," Logan said, leading Patton inside and following Virgil to the stairs.

"Wait!" Roman jogged ahead to lead the charge. "Are we not gonna talk about Virgil just--"

"Found a broken door and stepped through it?" Virgil interrupted, bumping Roman with his hip. "No, we are not."

Roman led them up a flight of stairs and down a corridor similar to the one in their own dorm building. All the doors they tried were locked, so they set up the ouija board in the hallway outside the bathrooms.

"Okay, gang," Virgil said once they were all sequestered around the board. "Pointer fingers on the planchette."

"Not our whole hands?" Roman asked.

Virgil shot him a sideways glare. "I'm sorry, are you the expert on the occult?"

"Are you?" Roman asked.

"Relative expert," Virgil said, sticking out his tongue. "Now. Pointer fingers on the planchette."

"I really don't know if this is a good idea," Patton said, extending a shaking hand.

"You should be more afraid of campus security," Logan said. "Although from the state of the building, it appears that we are the first to successfully enter."

"Nothing's happening," Roman complained, his eyes on the planchette.

"We haven't asked a question yet, genius," Virgil sneered.

"It seems rude to barge into someone's house and just start asking questions," Patton said. He looked up, addressing the ghost. "Hi!"

The planchette jerked and began to shake. Anticipating Virgil's accusation, Roman held up his other hand. "It's not me!"

"Shut up!" Virgil snapped. "It's moving."

They read the letters out loud together as the planchette began to move around the board: "N-I-C-E." Pause. "C-O-C-K."

"Oh, come on." Virgil grabbed the planchette and threw it at Roman's face. "Not funny."

"I swear that wasn't me!" Roman said, smacking the planchette down. It clattered across the board and came to a stop by the number '2.'

"Roman," Patton chided, "it's really not nice to mess with us like that."

"You too?' Roman said. He turned to Logan. "Come on, Specs, you know it wasn't me."

"I know it wasn't a ghost. I know it wasn't me. I know Patton and Virgil aren't likely to make that sort of joke. Therefore, I can safely posit that it must have been you. Although I wouldn't make an accusation without more evidence."

"Oh, come on!" Roman put his hand on the planchette despite Virgil's noise of protest. "Hey, spirit. Can you do something else spooky so my friends stop accusing me of--"

What happened next was equal parts anticlimactic and chilling: Roman's eyes turned green and began to emit a gentle glow. He was silent for only a moment before turning to Patton with a chipper smile. "Hey, hot stuff! Nice cock."

"Whoa" said Virgil, scrambling backwards toward the wall. "What the fuck."

"He invited me in!" said Roman, or more accurately, the ghost possessing Roman's body.

"Oh my God," Patton said. "That's not Roman."

"Yeah, no shit!"

"I'll give him back in a minute," said the spirit. "I just had to shoot my shot with hottie over here. What's your name, sugar?"

"Uh," said Patton, glancing wildly at Virgil (who was fumbling in his pocket for his holy water or his salt, whatever he found first) and Logan (who was actively blue-screening). "Patton?"

"Nice to meet you, Patton." The ghost stuck Roman's hand out for a shake. "Name's Remus. Has anyone ever told you you're kinda DILF-y for a college student?"

"N-no?"

"Well, you are."

"Thanks, I guess." Patton sat back and pulled his legs up to his chest in an unmistakably defensive pose. "Um, is there something that you wanted, Remus?"

"I already told you!" Roman's face beamed in a way it never had before, his eyes twitching strangely in their sockets. "I just popped in to shoot my shot. So?"

"He's propositioning you," Logan hissed.

"I…" said Patton, panic whiting out his mind. Unable to find words, he held up his left hand to show off the silver band on his ring finger.

"You're married?" Roman's body leaned forward to read the engraved writing. "True love waits."

"It's a purity ring," Virgil explained, finally extricating a small vial from the tangle of cords and chains in his pocket. "And this is holy water."

"Wait," said Remus, "are you guys exorcising me? Cause I swear I'm gonna give you your friend back. I'm dead, not evil. Also," he turned to Patton, "is that a no?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, so you do wanna bang?"

"No!"

"Alright, alright, damn." Remus leaned Roman's body back, putting up his hands in a defensive gesture. "You know, I was gonna go full poltergeist and try to see if I could make you all cry, but I changed my mind when I saw Hot Pat-tato. Soooo, you're welcome."

"Yeah," said Virgil, "I'm not sure we should be thanking you for taking over our friend's body. Give him back, by the way."

"Wait!" said Patton. "Remus, why aren't you at rest? Is there something we can do to help you move on?"

"Nah," said Remus. "To be honest, I just wanted to haunt the crap out of some dumb college kids."

"Need I point out," Logan said, "that you are also a dumb college kid?"

Virgil looked around at the empty halls, walls of closed doors, the dusty spiderwebs hanging like streamers in the corners. "Wait. There's nobody to haunt."

"Yeah," said Remus. Roman's shoulders shrugged. "It's been kinda lonely and boring.

"Sucks to suck," Virgil said, brandishing the sealed vial of holy water. "Okay, time to go."

Remus sighed and crossed Roman's arms over his chest. "Fine. I didn't really want to haunt you guys anyway."

"I might…" Patton twisted up his mouth thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers along the quartz crystal in his pocket. "Maybe I'll come back and say hello sometime."

The grin that unfurled across Roman's face was so familiar that Patton nearly hugged him. But his eyes were still that slightly luminescent green, still twitching and rolling like he was trying to take in every detail of the world all at once. "Really?"

Patton nodded and held out his hand palm-up. Roman's hand was icy, but Patton forced himself not to flinch as he brought his head down and kissed Remus' knuckles. "Really."

For a moment, there was silence. Then came a gentle warmth, and confused brown eyes staring down at Patton, who only had time to gasp before Roman tilted his head in confusion. "Um, Patton? Why are you holding my hand?"

#you are contractually obligated to point out any formatting errors or typos #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #intruality #college au #spicywrites #patton sanders #remus sanders #anyway i am forever entertained by the idea of ONLY projecting my idiosyncrasies onto the characters and none of my psychological trauma #hence the overshare about college #you can know every exact details of what i did from ages 18-21 but i will never ever tell you how my parents fucked me up #no bummers! funny shit only!

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madamewriterofwrongs · 4 years

Note

From the fluffy/blushy prompts: "No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them". Thank you!

Happy NaNoWriMo (aka, working multiple projects and filling prompts <3)!

911/Buddie

Take My Heart Away With You

“Eddie Diaz, as I live and breathe.” Half a dozen heads shot up from across the intersection as the firefighters of the 118 continued to pack up their equipment. It had been a simple enough call: three-car accident in a residential area, no major injuries or immediate dangers. In fact, the entire incident was over and done with in less than an hour; they might make it back in time for Bobby to cook lunch before half of the crew were off for the day.

Although, plans were certain to change given the determined excitement from the stranger on the sidewalk.

Eddie looked up from his place beside Buck and recognized the man instantly. “Jerry? What the hell are you doing here?”

Without a second glance, he tossed his share of the equipment haphazardly into the truck for Buck to sort and jogged over to greet his friend.

“What am I doing here? Last I heard, you were living in Texas with your parents, and now I find you pulling cats out of trees in the City of Angels?”

From against the side of the truck, Chimney tilted his head to mutter “I don’t think I’ve ever rescued a cat from any form of flora.” Hen chuckled but agreed with a quip of her own, though Buck was admittedly too fixated on the other voices to pay much attention. Unfortunately, he was a little too far away to hear Eddie’s conversation with his old friend so he returned to his task, picking up the slack until his partner’s return.

“I moved out here with my son about three years ago, now.” Eddie hadn’t seemed to notice the distinct lack of chatter from his teammates as they all strained to hear his conversation. “You remember Christopher? He’s almost ten now.”

Jerry whistled in response, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “Crazy. And Shannon? How’s she doing?”

No matter the passage of time, the sudden memory of losing his wife was always a shock to his system. “She, uh, she passed just over a year ago. It’s just the two of us. Well, I’ve got my aunt and my grandmother, and Carla, and Buck, and the rest of the 118.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked down at the hand on his shoulder and his mind returned to the days when the most sympathetic greeting he could expect on a daily basis was a firm clap on the shoulder. “but it seems like you’re doing well here.”

“I am.” Eddie was finally able to admit that he was thriving in LA, and it was nothing to be ashamed of (actually, he was almost able to admit that). “But what about you? I thought you were moving to Paris to be with Katie and her family.” It had been some time but he seemed to remember long nights of listening to Jerry pine for his girlfriend who had decided to move home now that she was done with her Masters, and how much he would miss her once his tour was over.

“I did. I’m just in town for a conference.” His friend flashed a smile that reminded Eddie of Buck’s giddy grins when he was almost too excited to share his news. “We’ve been married now, two years in August.”

He had nothing but congratulations to offer Jerry, though his heart did ache to see the ring glinting in the sunlight.

“How have you been since Shannon…” there was no need to end the sentence for two men so acquainted with death. “Is Carla…?”

“No.” He gently affirmed. “Carla’s an amazing woman but she helps care for Christopher when I’m at work.” And what a god-send she was. “Buck introduced us.”

There was a familiar glint in his eyes that Eddie recognized from every time he found himself roped into pulling pranks on their last day at any camp. “And Buck is…”

“My coworker.” He emphasized with a nod in his friend’s direction, hiding the smile that came when Buck gave an awkward wave.

“He’s cute.”

Eddie barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jerry wasn’t the first (and he certainly wouldn’t be the last) of his friends to be charmed by Buck with just a single look.

“And he knows it.” He grumbled good-naturedly. “But listen, I gotta get back to work. It was nice seeing you.”

He was already jogging back when he turned at the sound of his name. “A couple of the guys are getting together on Thursday to watch the game; you wanna join us?”

Eddie paused in the middle of the street, a rejection on his lips before he paused to consider the offer in its entirety. A night with old friends who shared a very specific (and some would say ‘traumatic’) experience, most of whom he hasn’t seen since returning prematurely from his second tour. A night which didn’t predictably end at home or at Buck’s, reminiscing about the day – not that he didn’t enjoy his downtime with someone he’d easily call his best friend. A night with no responsibilities.

“Yeah.” He called as he jogged back to his old friend. “Let me give you my new number and you can send me the details.”

Across the road, Buck stood upright as he no longer subtly observed Eddie’s interaction. “Did he just give that guy his number?”

“So what if he did?” Hen slammed the back of the ambulance after returning their unused equipment. “It’s been over a year since Shannon died, I think it’s good that he’s getting back out there.”

Chimney hummed in contemplation beside her. “I’m with Buck on this. Maybe it’s a little too soon to be dating. Besides, he’s got a kid at home, doesn’t that complicate things?”

“I didn’t say it was too soon.” Buck protested too sharply. “I just think it’s in poor taste to be hitting on a guy when he’s in the middle of a call.”

“Didn’t you frequently talk to your girlfriend while actively treating a patient?”

He ignored Hen’s excellent point in favor of watching Eddie return to his post.

“Sorry about that. Old army buddy. I haven’t seen him since I got back but we’re gonna get together with some of the old squad later this week to catch up.” He looked so excited (as excited as ‘Professional-Mode’ Eddie could be) that Buck didn’t have the heart to question him further. He used the same excuse to explain why we was virtually silent on the ride back to the station. It certainly had nothing to do with the curious way his heart tightened at the thought that Eddie might be ready to date after the passing of his wife.

Eddie would never describe himself as a ‘social butterfly’, in even the broadest sense of the term, but there was something about being in a specific environment that brought out his louder personality. Sitting on the couch, drinking beer, and half-watching a game while taking turns swapping stories about the old days and where life took them after (that is to say, standing and cheering when there was noise from the television and virtually ignoring the screen otherwise).

For once, he found he had stories to tell that didn’t leave him riddled with guilt. He could talk about the people he’d saved at work, and the daring rescues Buck decided to pull off that Eddie had to save him from. A few of the guys had seen Buck on the news but had no idea Eddie was there. Thoughts of all the people they’d lost – and almost lost – in bombings had silenced the room for a minute. And then someone scored a goal and they were all on their feet, cheering and sloshing drinks like nothing had happened.

For a few hours, Eddie was given the gift of forgetting that he had anything to be ashamed about and just enjoy the life he had now. So, of course, when the boys invited him out a week later, he was quick to accept their invitation.

“Sorry, I can’t do game night on Tuesday, I’m going out for drinks with the guys.” He declined Chimney’s offer of dinner while they dressed in the locker room before their weekend shift. “Buck, you’re welcome to join us if you don’t want to be the odd man out.” As much as he loved his sister, Eddie knew that his friend was less than keen on being the only person at dinner without a date.

Not that he and Buck would go as a date, but it always seemed easier when they could pair off in whatever way that meant to them.

“I don’t want to impose.” Buck began to protest but Eddie waved him off.

“It’s not imposing if I’m inviting you.”

Still, the man shook his head.

“Nah, I actually have plans on Tuesday anyways so I won’t be going to Maddie’s anyways.”

If he were paying closer attention, he might notice the way Buck avoided his eyes as he spoke – a sure sign that he was being less than truthful.

“You were just going to not show up and leave me as the odd man out? I, at least, gave you fair warning.” He tossed his uniformed shirt at Buck’s head, which he caught only after it hit him on the side of his face. Of course, that meant Eddie had to cross the locker room in only his slacks to retrieve the clothing item, leaving him standing next to Buck, shirtless, and all too aware of their close proximity.

“Have fun without me.” He saw the twinkle behind those blue eyes of something unspoken but instead of asking, he pulled the shirt out of his hands and pulled it over his head in a smooth motion on his way out the door.

Buck watched him leave with, breathless in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. And something in his gut that squeezed hard at the thought of Eddie spending time with other people. Which was ridiculous. Eddie was allowed to have friends that he didn’t know about. Yes, they were best friends but that didn’t mean they owed each other a free pass to their entire lives. He’d just have to get over this jealousy.

“Why’d you lie to Eddie?” He flew against the lockers at the sound of Hen’s voice at his side.

“Why-why do you think I lied to Eddie?”

Her incredulous gaze was nearly as intimidating as Athena’s (had she been getting pointers?). “Because you don’t have plans on Tuesday. Why did you tell him you did?”

Was he that obvious? Could everyone see that he was jealous and he wanted to sulk at home rather than spend the evening with his sister, distracted and wondering what Eddie was up to?

“I didn’t want him to feel bad. If he’s not going to Maddie’s, then I’m not going to be the odd one out – like he said.”

Hen perched herself beside him against the lockers, her scrutiny turning soft. “He invited you to join him, you could have gone out with his army buddies. Is there a reason you didn’t want to?”

He didn’t want to be a burden, he’d have nothing in common with them, he didn’t want to feel like an obligation, Eddie deserved a night out with friends who weren’t him.

“It just didn’t seem like my thing.” Drinking at a bar didn’t seem like his thing? Hen didn’t have to voice her question but he shrugged it off regardless. “I’ll probably just hit the gym and do some laundry. I’m way behind anyways.” He pushed off the wall of lockers before she could question his lies any further.

Of course, he hated lying to his friends. It seemed better than admitting that he was feeling petty and jealous – like a child – over something so silly.

No matter how guilty he felt for the way he was acting, it still hurt to see Eddie strolling into the station on Wednesday morning with a smile on his face. He looked brighter than he had in a long time (since Shannon, probably). And was there a bounce in his step? Surely, he was imagining it; but he did seem happy. That was all that mattered, right? As long as Eddie was happy, he’d learn to get over his jealousy and find other friends to occupy his time.

Or perhaps he’d just be alone forever. That seemed like a likely alternative. He would adjust, adapt; he’d figure it out and everything would be fine.

Four months later, he wanted to smack his past self in the face for thinking that he could have a normal, well-adjusted reaction to anything. He was the guy who overreacted, who felt things so deeply and blew everything out of proportion.

Of course, he would see Eddie finding other friends as a sign that there was something wrong with him, and thus should isolate himself from everyone in his life. The problem was: Eddie hadn’t changed – not really. Sure, he went out with the guys a few nights a month and always came back with a smile on his face and a few stories to tell that Buck got to hear with the rest of the crew. But he kept up their weekly game night, and pizza night, and their trip to the baseball game that he told himself was out of pity for the expense of the tickets (but really, he was just excited to spend some time with his friend).

Eddie was his usual self, it was Buck who started declining game night or ending pizza night early, or feigning illness when Eddie told him about adult night at the observatory. He was the one who was pushing his friend away because some selfish part of him couldn’t handle not having someone’s attention 24/7. The more he told himself of all the reasons he was wrong, the more convinced he became of his need to isolate.

He should have known better.

“Eddie? It’s midnight, what are you doing here?” He groggily answered the door, stumbling when his mind finally caught up with him. “What happened to Christopher?”

“He’s fine.” The man was quick to put his hands out in a calming motion, walking straight past him and into the apartment without invitation – not that Eddie ever needed an invitation. “He’s at a sleepover. I wanted to talk to you.”

He’d figured it out. He must have. Eddie knew that Buck was acting like a dick and wanted to cut ties completely. Why did he have to do it in the middle of the night when it was already so dark and cold?

“You see me every day.” He closed the door despite his own instinct to run away.

“This isn’t really a work conversation.” There it was: the truth.

“I need a drink.” Buck was circling the bar and reaching for the fridge before Eddie could protest. He turned back with two water bottles in his hand (a force of habit, he supposed) and slid the other to the man taking his usual seat on the island.

It was such a minor thing but Buck had always found it amusing that even though he had a perfectly good table a few feet over, the two of them always gravitated towards the kitchen bar/island – he couldn’t remember which. Perhaps there was something to that, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“So what is it?”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you.” Two minutes in and Eddie was already nervously picking at the label of his bottle. This was going to hurt. “You’ve been distant lately; cancelling plans, lying to avoid spending time together. I appreciate that you still make time to see Christopher but you and I haven’t hung out in months. What’s up?”

After the last time he and Eddie split up – that is to say, they were separated as teammates – he’d felt so guilty about his favourite kid getting caught in the crossfire. So, even if Eddie never wanted to see him again, he was going to do all he could to still be there for Christopher. Although, it seemed especially cruel to make Buck confess all his wrongdoings instead of just yelling at him and walking away.

“There’s nothing up, I’ve just been busy.” Why he bothered to try and lie to his best friend would forever remain a mystery.

“You’ve never been able to lie to me, Buck, I don’t know why you’re doing it now but I’m worried.”

“Worried?” This was not the response he was expecting at all. What would Eddie have to be worried about?

“I’m worried that I’m losing my best friend and I don’t know why.”

There were moments in a person’s life that struck as lightning – hard and fast and completely unexpected. And there were some that rolled like thunder – highly anticipated but when it finally arrived, nothing could prepare for the aftershock. Buck finally understood the feeling of releasing a long-held breath only to feel the sensations trickle down his body, leaving pins and needles in their wake.

“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore.”

No puzzle pieces formed together, there was no sense of relief after letting go of this realization, but the moment the words left his mouth, they rang with truth. He didn’t want to see Eddie as a best friend, vying for time and caring from the sidelines of his life. He wanted to be in Eddie’s life. He wanted something new. He wanted-

“You don’t want to be friends anymore, what?”

“No!” He stumbled over his own shoes in an attempt to recover from his own misstep. “Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.”

“What other way is there, Buck?” He followed as Eddie instinctively stepped away, confusion and hurt marring his face. That suddenly, very kissable face.

One step at a time.

“The way where we are something other than friends. Something romantic.” He ventured, drawing out each word as they formed in his mind.

“Something…” Eddie’s voice trailed off and Buck was gifted with the display of emotions that crossed his face. Confusion, searching, conclusion, understanding, realization, surprise, and finally a soft, shaking “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Buck tried to smile in a comforting manner but it has difficult to concentrate when the air had left the room. “Is that okay?”

There had always been an understanding between the two men: words were not necessary for them to know what the other needed. They didn’t need to talk to come up with a plan to rescue someone from a three-story house. They didn’t need to talk to offer comfort after a call went badly and all they wanted was not to be alone. They didn’t need to talk to know when to pounce on Chimney when he had overplayed his turn on the game console. They knew each other – complimented one another in their silence – which made them an amazing team and wonderful friends.

In the silence following Buck’s question, he didn’t dare try to read Eddie’s expression, for fear of breaking his heart too soon.

“I-yeah it’s okay but,” Buck closed his eyes against the world. “I don’t know that I feel the same.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” His mouth retreated from the conversation before his feet could make a decision. “But that’s why I’ve been…yeah.” When his feet finally caught up with his beating heart, they made their way towards the door. “So now that we’ve settled that, I’ll see you at work.”

Just get him out now. Do whatever you need to be alone. Get out. Find the silence so you can put yourself back together.

“Buck, shouldn’t we talk about th-”

“Nope.” He squeezed the handle to steady his shaking hands. “No, I think we’ve covered everything.” With a strength he didn’t possess, Buck opened the front door and stepped aside for Eddie to leave. “I’ll talk to you at work.”

He could hear the slow shuffling of Eddie’s steps as he made his way towards the door, stopping in front of Buck. They had never needed words to know what the other was saying (there had been days when they had been completely off and needed to make amends but with time, their skills had improved) and with just the steady breaths between them, Buck acknowledged Eddie’s apology and listened as he walked out the door.

It wasn’t until the engine of his truck roared out of the parking lot, that Buck allowed himself to close the door and wipe a hand over his face to clear the emotions he’d delicately kept at bay.

Eddie found himself numbly driving anywhere but home, his mind racing with the onslaught of realizations he’d been handed in such a short amount of time. How had he not seen it before? How had he not noticed the signs? How had he not understood how important that moment was? How had he not found the words to say he felt the same?

With nothing awaiting him at home, he drove for what felt like hours until he finally pulled up to his front door, feeling no less certain of what he should do next. Even so close to the safety of his bedroom, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to walk inside, choosing instead to lean against the steering wheel until the sun came up.

When he found himself burdened with so many conflicting thoughts, the only person he wanted to talk to was suddenly the only person he couldn’t share his fears with. What else was there to do but keep his emotions close to his chest until he could sort them out. Or maybe he’d make an appointment with Frank – that’s what he was for, right? – and see what an objective mind could come up with.

For now, he had to find the strength to go inside and get ready for work.

Because naturally he and Buck would be scheduled to work together the day after such an unsettling interaction. The universe would never give him an opportunity to adjust to his new mindset and perhaps come up with what he wanted to say to Buck. His friend deserved an answer – or perhaps closure – but he had nothing to give. No amount of sitting in his driveway with the engine turned off, would give him the words he needed to find before he was set to face Buck again.

Why is this a problem?

That question had drifted through his mind over again as the night slowly faded to daylight. He’d known for some time that Buck meant something significant to him. Perhaps it was in the role of best friend, or trusted partner, and occasionally he laid in bed wondering if he might mean something different – something romantic.

The thought of dating Buck hadn’t scared him the way he expected it might. In fact, he’d been circling around the daydream with startling frequency of late. So why, at the pivotal moment – the moment when he might actually get to fulfill those dreams – did he lie and say that he didn’t feel the same way? It was like he was predestined to break his own heart at every turn; first, he hurt his wife, then his son, then his best friend. But unlike with Shannon, Eddie had a chance to make up for his mistakes with the other two people who meant the world to him. He could spend the rest of his life apologizing to Christopher for leaving by showing up every single day. And he could apologize to Buck by…

By telling him the truth.

That the sudden confession had startled him and his brain hadn’t actually registered what he was saying until he was down the block. That he very much reciprocated, but he’d screwed up – like he always did (maybe he’d leave that part out).

He had to try, at least.

Besides, this was Buck. They always came back to each other; they always forgave each other.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Eddie blocked the other man’s path as they approached the station together. It hadn’t been difficult for Eddie to beat him to work and then all he had to do was wait. “Buck, I just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk, Eddie.” Buck side stepped his partner but Eddie caught him again. “Not right now. We have to focus on work.”

He’d never seen the man so pale and small. He was carefully balancing his work bag on one hunched shoulder, his neck and head cast down but even then, Eddie could see how tired his eyes looked, feel how cold his skin felt from exhaustion. Had either of them slept?

“What about after work? Come over and we’ll talk.”

“Talk about what?” It wasn’t quite a shout but they were quickly drifting into the territory of ‘not work appropriate levels of conversation’. “You told me you don’t feel the same – that’s fine. I just need a little time.” When Eddie moved to block his escape again, Buck looked into Eddie’s eyes properly for the first time all day and whispered “Please.”

Eddie let him pass.

Their shift together was uncomfortable to say the least. Buck barely spoke to anyone and his avoidance of Eddie was obvious to anyone who accidentally walked through the cold air between them. Eddie didn’t try to engage with him again but too often, he caught himself staring across the table at his friend, begging for some sign that this – like every other horrible thing between them – would pass.

As they packed up at the end of the day, he watched Buck sidestep Chimney’s attempts to engage in conversation, and nearly ran into Hen when she approached him – now doubt some tag team strategy to get the story from both parties at once.

Unfortunately for the paramedics, neither of the men were up for airing their dirty laundry. No, Eddie saved that for drinks with his army buddies a few nights later.

“So when are we actually going to meet this ‘Buck’ of yours?” Ian meant well (as well as he could when teasing his friends about his obvious crush). “I thought you were going to introduce us.”

Eddie stared into the bottom of his glass of ginger ale, wondering if it held any of the answers he so desperately needed. Instead, he downed the rest of his soda in one gulp. “Buck isn’t mine.”

“Ooh.” A few voices from the table echoed Sam’s ribbing. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You could say that.” He couldn’t exactly blame his loose tongue on the alcohol but he was sorely tempted to find a better excuse to share his feelings than simply ‘he needed someone to talk to’.

Like friends?

“Buck told me that he had feelings for me and I told him that I wasn’t sure I felt the same (even though that’s a lie). And now he’s freezing me out because I hurt him, but the only way I can make it up to him is if I talk to him. I don’t know how to make it right.”

It was an odd sensation to feel a weight lift off his chest – he was so used to carrying it all alone until he’d come to LA and even then, it was a hard habit to break – but confessing his frustrations to a room of receptive people did give him a sense of relief.

“Wait, hold on.” Ian shook his head. “You and Buck aren’t a couple? Could have fooled me, the way you go on about him.” Mostly receptive.

The trouble was: he wanted them to be a couple, and though he wasn’t sure Buck was still on board, he knew there was the potential to get everything he wanted. There was only one person who could get them there and it wasn’t any of the men sitting around the table in the dimly lit bar.

“We are not talking about my love life – or lack thereof – anymore.” He declared, rising to his feet. “The next rounds’ on me.” He was still waiting for their order when he felt a hand clap his shoulder and he jumped despite himself.

“Sorry,” Sam hissed in sympathy. “I should know better. I just wanted to say: fix it.” He grabbed half of the drinks as they were slid across the bar for Eddie to follow suit. “Do what you need to do to be happy – even if that means locking your boy in a closet until you sort it out.” Eddie held his balance as Sam lightly elbowed him with a smirk. “You talk about Buck like he’s someone special to you. Don’t lose that.”

It was Sam’s words that led Buck to open his door after midnight for the second time that week, to find an anxious Eddie eager to enter his apartment.

“What do you want, Eddie?” Without waiting for permission, the man walked through to the kitchen bar and began to lightly pace back and forth. He looked nervous, almost scared. What could he possibly have to say that was so terrifying? Was he fleeing the city because he couldn’t handle being around Buck any longer? No, that wasn’t it. Though his heart was still healing, he knew Eddie was not one to run away from his problems. Not that Buck was a problem. Was he?

“I want us to talk.” The man declared as he continued to run a hole in the hardwood floor. “And I don’t want you to kick me out again.”

Buck knew he’d been rash the other night in sending Eddie away before he could continue but the other option was listening to platitudes about their friendship (which he cherished greatly) and maintaining a professional attitude and he just couldn’t bring himself to hear it then.

The rest – the confrontation in the parking lot, the icing out – it had been to protect his heart while he readjusted the level of hope he was allowed to carry. He just needed time. Yet, here Eddie was, pushing his way through.

Just like you do.

“Fine.” He closed the door with just enough gracefulness to appease his grumpy neighbours. “Talk.”

Eddie stopped pacing when Buck approached. “No, we’re going to talk to each other.” He really didn’t want to talk about this awful situation between them. In fact, if they never spoke again, he would be perfectly content. He cursed his own traitorous heart for calling him a liar, then.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” He took the stool across from his friend when Eddie motioned for him to sit. Even now, it seemed important that the two of them never sat at the table.

“First, I want to ask you a question. Please be honest.” As much as his mind cried ‘no! You don’t owe him anything!’ his heart whispered ‘give him every chance’.

“Okay.”

“You said you were pulling away because you wanted to be something other than friends. Why?”

Buck couldn’t help the incredulous snort that escaped. “Why was I pulling away, or why do I want to be something other than friends? Because if I’m being honest, I’m trying to rethink that last one.” He silenced the voice shouting ‘liar’.

“No, why were you pulling away? What changed?”

His immediate response was to answer with ‘nothing’. To confess that nothing had changed except he suddenly came to his senses, even if those senses had gotten him hurt. But then, he let himself think back to the weeks and months when Eddie wasn’t around as often. When he suddenly had other people he would rather be with instead of him.

“I got jealous.” He confessed quietly. “You had your army buddies and you were spending less time with me. At first, I thought I was just jealous that you had other friends. It’s been just the two of us for some time and suddenly you weren’t always there.” He’d tried so hard to convince himself that he was just being selfish the way he always was; that he was simply meant to grow up and get over it. “Then I suddenly realized I wanted to be there with your friends – get to know them – but I didn’t want to be one of them.” Eddie’s eyes were too soft and bright to stare into any longer so he found a place on the counter between them that felt like neutral territory.

“I want you all to myself and I know that’s selfish but I want all of you.” Saying it out loud was meant to feel like relief but all Buck found was a pain in the center of his chest. “Seeing you and not knowing what to do: it was too hard. So I stepped back. And now that it’s all out there,” (And boy, was it all out there.) “I just need some time to readjust. That’s all I need.”

What he ‘needed’ was an infinite list of ever-changing desires, but several of the constants included Eddie and Christopher in his life. What he needed: was to put the genie back in the bottle and never realize his feelings in the first place. What he needed was to be happy.

“It’s not selfish.” He barely heard Eddie’s whispered words but he looked up to familiar, shining eyes. “Or if it is, then I’m selfish, too.”

It wasn’t quite like he’d heard a record scratch in his mind but the world most definitely stopped moving for a moment as his words set into place.

“You-what?”

Eddie reached out his hand but hesitated, placing it just between them. An offering instead of a command: Buck could answer if he wanted, when he was ready.

“When you told me…what you told me,” that was certainly one way of putting it. “I panicked.” Buck didn’t echo his nervous laughter but he did nothing to deter it, too lost in absorbing all of the new information.

“I thought maybe you meant it some other way, or I was dreaming, or I wasn’t good enough for you.” How could Eddie ever believe that he wasn’t good enough? Even if this was his long-winded way of letting him down gently, Buck made a promise to never let him believe that again. “So I told you that I wasn’t sure how I felt but that was a lie.”

The more Eddie spoke, the more Buck allowed his heart to take on just a little more hope. “And I wanted to tell you the truth but I could never get you alone.” Because Buck had made a point of walking in the other direction whenever Eddie entered the room, entirely born out of self-preservation that was, apparently, unfounded.

“You know my friends, they thought we were dating.”

“Wait, really?”

His laugh had elements of the joy he knew Eddie was capable of and it gave him permission to relax against the bar just a little bit. “Yup. They kept asking when they were going to meet the guy I couldn’t stop talking about. And then they told me to do what I need to do to be happy.” Eddie sighed in conclusion. “So I came here.”

Buck tried to speak a few times but no words ever came. He had let himself hope for this outcome too often, but it never felt like this. His heart felt as though it would burst from his chest and his ears were ringing like he was flying through high altitude. His eyes darting across Eddie’s face over and over, looking for a hint that he was being insincere but all he saw was the same terrified and shy desire that he assumed was in his own expression.

“So you like me?” Buck ventured.

“Yeah, Buck.” Eddie chuckled in return. “I like you.”

Good. “And I like you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“And your friends think we’re dating.”

“They may have hinted at it, yes.”

It seemed a pity that Eddie’s hand was resting between them, completely unaccompanied, so Buck linked their fingers.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

It felt right, feeling Eddie’s thumb gently swipe across his skin and squeeze their fingers with all the joy they couldn’t express for fear of breaking their quiet bubble of hope.

“Honestly, I want to kiss you right now.” The shiver of anticipation was one he’d been waiting for, for a very long time. “But I’m also very tired. I haven’t really slept since that night.”

Buck found himself simultaneously relieved and guilty to learn that he hadn’t been alone in his sleeplessness so instead, he pulled Eddie to his feet.

“Do you have anywhere to be in the morning?” When Eddie shook his head, he smiled. “My bed’s pretty big. What do you say to sleeping – just sleeping – and then see about the rest of it in the morning.”

Without hesitation, he melted into Eddie’s smile. “That sounds perfect.”

He had done much scarier things in his lifetime – hell, he’d gone to war when he had a newborn son waiting for him at home – but somehow, walking into the pub with his boyfriend by his side was what really got him sweating.

“Hey,” Buck bumped his shoulder with an encouraging smile the way he had since the day they met. “it’s gonna go great.”

It didn’t entirely ease his anxiety but he also had the distinct realization that he could handle whatever happened because he wouldn’t have to handle it alone.

“I know.”

He spotted the group easily enough, the group of boisterous men in the corner booth, exchanging loud war stories and wiping up their sloshed drinks (because they were raised to be polite young men, thank you, ma’am). The moment they caught sight of Eddie they waved him over and the two made their way to join the platoon.

“Hey guys, I see you started drinking without me.” He greeted the men with a smile.

“Well Kelley started around noon.” Ian shoved his friend’s shoulder. “So unless you wanted to skip…whatever it is you two were doing before this…”

“We were at work.” Buck replied quickly with a mischievous smirk to his cheeks. The man really was shameless, even when he was telling the truth. “Hi, I’m Buck,” he extended his hand to the closest person – Sam – who took it immediately. “it’s nice to meet you all.”

Thankful for his boyfriend’s ability to charm the pants off of anyone he met (though the pants-loosing was a super power he reserved for one person in particular), Eddie allowed himself to relax into the evening. “Buck these are some of the men I was on tour with. This is Sam, Ian, Harry, Erik, and Cole.” Buck greeted them each with a polite nod and handshake. “Guys, this is Buck.”

“Please tell me you two are finally having sex.” Ian shook Buck’s hand enthusiastically, laughing at the double take from both men. “Eddie here has been mooning over you for months.”

If it were possible for the floor to swallow him whole, he would pray for an earthquake. The knowing look on Buck’s face, paired with the snickers from around the table, told him that he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for some time.

“Mooning?” Buck teased as they took their seats next to one another. “Eddie, I had no idea you mooned.” He was well aware that they both mooned over one another (as evidenced by the amount of times Chimney had asked them to stop looking at each other while they were on duty before they were arrested for indecent exposure) but he didn’t correct his boyfriend.

“Suddenly I’m feeling very down to earth.” He rolled his eyes at Buck’s faux indignation before they turned their attention to the rest of the table. “So, what were we talking about?”

Erik waved him off without waiting for the others to respond. “Doesn’t matter. We want to talk to Buck here. I bet there’s some things he knows about Eddie that we’d like to know.”

He knew before he asked Buck to accompany him to guys’ night, that the boys would latch on to him and search for blackmail material. Fortunately, he came prepared.

“And I know there’s some things about these guys that Buck would find hilarious. Like, guess who got caught sneaking out of the captain’s quarters after someone set off the fire alarm. And they were naked. And so was the captain.”

It wasn’t difficult to discern the culprit from the blush in his cheeks, but Buck still snorted at Cole with a mixture of shock and approval.

“I was fired a few months into being a probie because I got caught stealing the firetruck to have sex. Twice.”

If there was one thing Eddie should have known, it was that Buck was as shameless as he was handsome. Of course, he would reveal stories about his life that even his partner hadn’t heard before.

“You said I couldn’t kiss you goodbye in the parking lot because we had to be professional!”

“Because I got fired for having sex in a firetruck.” Buck matched his indignant energy with a smile. “I’m not going to risk getting fired again.”

“It’s a kiss, Buck, we’re not going to get fired for a kiss (not in LA, anyways).”

“Well I know that if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop. And the things I want to do to you would get us fired – even in LA.”

“You are both very horny and very sweet.” Eddie shoved his boyfriend lightly, to accompany his hidden smile of giddy joy. This thing between them was only a few weeks old and they were still learning what would change and what would stay exactly the same. So far, it had been nothing but happy adjustments and stolen kisses. Eddie knew exactly what Buck meant about never wanting to stop – and he hoped that feeling never went away.

“I feel so sorry for your coworkers.” They snapped to Sam, taking in the snickers from the other men as they came back to reality. “I don’t know how they get anything done with you two like this constantly.”

“They don’t.” The pair replied in unison, earning another round of laughter from the table.

Eddie recovered first. “Enough about us, we’re here to spend a night among friends, so whose gonna by us a drink?”

Truth be told: Eddie didn’t mind the sniggering or taunting because it all came from a place of love – a place he wasn’t sure he’d ever find like this. He had his son, his family, his friends, his partner, and even if it wasn’t perfect, there was certainly hope.

#cj writes things #911 fox #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #oneawkwardcookie #love cookie #love confession #jealousy #prompt fill #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ THE DRAWING ❜

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hi lovely! No idea if this'll make it in for the first 10, but please can I request one with Creeper where you're a bar tender for the club but you draw in your free time. Creep has a crush on you and one day one of the guys tease you because they realise you're drawing Creeper and he defends you because he thinks its super sweet and then asks you out on a date? 💖

BY @mycupoffanfiction

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl, who is making me such beautiful gifs ✨

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“LOOK AT THAT!”

You were peacefully drawing before starting your turn at the clubhouse, sitting on a couch on the porch. In front of your pencil, Creeper was fixing something in the engine of his bike. Until Angel takes off your sketchbook from your hands, laughing and with the clear intention of teasing you, calling everyone attention. Jumping off from the couch, you try to grab it, but when he decides to raise his arm over his head, you know that you're fucked up. You have been badly in love with Creeper since you met him. He used to be extremely kind with you, always taking care of you of whatever you need, without having to ask for it, or without complaining about it.

“Angel, give it to me”. You have one hand on his left shoulder, jumping and trying to reach the sketchbook with the other. But he's so tall, that you can't grab it.

“WERE YOU DRAWING CREEPER?” He starts to laugh louder, feeling your cheeks burning and stopping every move of your body, to punch his chest.

You can't turn at Neron, really ashamed, running inside the clubhouse to hide yourself. Bishop and Taza look at you from the pool table a little confused, until they hear the conversation outside.

“Damn… It's really good”. EZ says, touring with his eyes every minimal detail.

“Let me see”. Gilly holds it after cleaning his hands, nodding in agreement. “She fucking drawn his tattoos, damn”.

“Hey, yo', shitheads!” Creeper takes the sketchbook of his huge fingers, closing it without looking at it. “Yo' fucking assholes, leave the kid in peace”.

“Carnal, you should see it”.

“If she doesn't show me, I'm not allowed to see it. Neither of you all”.

Knowing that you were drawing him really melts his heart, starting to think that maybe you too feel something about him. Walking towards the bar, the president moves his head pointing at the hallway to the dorms, making him nod just one time. But actually, he just has to follow your sobs and the curses in spanish to the closed bathroom.

You're sitting on the floor, against the wall, with both legs curled and surrounded by your arms. The only thought that crosses your head is that, if you could have any chance with him, Angel burned it down. You shouldn't draw him, at least, not without asking. And probably he must be thinking that you're crazy or that it's weird. Or both. You don't even know if you're going to look him at the face again.

The knocks on the door pushes you out of your thoughts, raising your crying eyes terrified. Breathing deep, you get up from the floor, walking slow to it. Slightly opening the door, a tattooed hand appears holding your sketchbook.

“Did you…?” You whisper with a low tone of voice, taking it.

“No, and I'm sorry about what Angel did”.

Finally, letting him see you, he clicks his tongue a little upset.

“I'm sorry too for… drawing you. I hope they don't annoy you for much long”. You have your gaze on your feet, unable to lift it up.

“Can you show it to me?”

Frowning confused, and narrowing your eyes, you look for the sketch with trembling fingers. Turning it under them, Creeper leans forward taking some seconds to admire it. He likes it. Actually, he likes it too much. You have drawn him perfectly, not knowing about your skills with a pencil. He's really fascinated, holding the sketchbook to look at it closer. As he heard Gilly, focusing somewhat better his orbs, he can see the tattoos on his neck perfectly placed over the paper. Even the badge of his Harley is on it.

“Didn't know you… can do things like that”.

“Tell me you're talking about the draw and not about being… creepy”. You mutter rubbing your nose, slowly raising your gaze towards his. The gesture on his face races your heart, with parted lips

He suddenly breaks into hoarse laughs, shaking his head, and you can swear that it's the best thing you have ever heard. Fleeting smiling you tear off the drawing to offer it to him.

“Keep it, if you like”.

“Really?” He asks slightly frowning, moving your hand close to him, insisting. “Yo! Mama… thanks. It's pretty cool. I mean… You draw in an amazing way”.

He holds it between both hands, smirking at you like a child who is receiving the best Christmas gift of his life.

“I was thinking that maybe you would like to share some beers, after finishing your turn”. You can notice how he's trying to hide the nerves in his voice, surprising you for both facts. For the invitation, and for his feelings.

“Ah… Yes… Yes, 'course!” Quickly answering, you nod taking a step to get out of the bathroom.

“'key. So you can tell me about this hobby”.

“Yeah, sure”.

“Cool, ah... I have to go back. See you later”. He says, leaning at you to kiss your cheek.

You can watch him walking away through the hallway, happily focused again on your draw. And you're not sure how to feel, but you're about to have a heart attack.

While working in the bar, serving beers and shots with EZ, you have caught Creeper some times looking at you from his seat, spending more time inside the clubhouse than outside, like it's not normal for him. But what makes you tickle in your stomach is the way he has to push away every Vicki's girl who tries to sit on his lap, or to sit too close to him. And maybe that means something.

“Hey, kid. Table”. Tranq appears through the glass door.

Checking the hour on the screen of your phone, you get somewhat nervous when you notice that your turn is already done. Palming EZ's back, you step out from the bar after cleaning your hands, leading your steps to the inside of the Templo. The olders are there, counting money and dividing it into four rows. One is yours.

“Sorry about Angel, querida”. Bishop says when you're close to him. You just shrug.

Putting inside an envelope your salary of the last two weeks, he offers it to you.

“Yeah, he's a little stupid sometimes”. Taza chuckles, surrounding your waist with an arm and resting his head on your other side.

“Nah, it's okay”. You reply, putting an arm on vice's shoulders.

“You okay with Creep'?”

“Yes, yes. Don't worry. We are gonna share some beers now”.

“Uh, I'm feeling jealous”. Che says laughing loud.

“Nah, you are my fav”.

“That shit hurts, kid”. Tranq adds with feigned annoyance.

“Go get your boy, kid. And enjoy”. Bishop says, before letting you go to have your own party.

The other Mayan is already waiting for you with two cold beers in his hand and a cig in the other, sitting on a sofa next to his brothers. You can feel the same nerves on him that inside you, when you finally meet again. He gets up showing you a huge smile, placing one of his tattooed arms around your back, ignoring a ‘you are welcome’ from Angel. He's actually very proud of what he did unconsciously, looking at you two stepping out from the clubhouse to the sofas on the porch. Falling down on it, you curl your legs over it and against your chest, grabbing one of the drinks to have a sip.

“Why did you start to write?” He finally asks, seeming so interested in it that your insecurities come up.

“My… parents used to fight every day when I was little. I was stressed, so I… started to scratch a paper with a pencil until it was totally black”.

Maybe it's not what he was expecting, but now he looks more focused in every word your vocal chords pronounce.

“But it started to be insufficient. And I found out that concentrating all my senses in drawing, it was like I was alone in the world. So, now it helps me to disconnect, whenever I feel low”.

“You weren't feeling okay this evening?” Creeper asks, sounding worried.

“Yeah, no… I was feeling okay, I mean… I was just stalling and you looked good fixing your bike”.

“Yeah, I saw that”. He can't help but laugh nodding, drinking from his beer after having the last smoke.

“Did they… tease you too much?”

“Nah, I don't care. At least, I earned some kind of date with you”. Crashing softly the two bottles, he makes a toast. “For the first of many more”.

“Okay, next time, I wanna talk about your tattoos”.

“That's gonna be a long one, mama”.

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas #creeper

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kpoppwriter · 4 years

Text

The Pleasures of Life pt. 4

Genre: demon/angel au

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing/language

a/n: I see when y’all reblog my posts and I always go and check to see if there are tags and I’ve been loving the tags I’ve seen for this series thank y’all let me know if you want more of this series

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5 | pt.6 | pt.7 | pt.8 | pt.9 | pt.10 | epilogue

“I’m going to need you to quiet down,” you groaned

“It’s not my fault you got too drunk last night and now have a hangover.”

You stared daggers into Seungkwan as he glared at you from across the table. After you left Seungcheol’s place, you were invited out for coffee. Jeonghan felt bad for leaving you alone all night so he said he make it up to you with coffee. He forgot to inform you that he also invited Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan.

“Aww, don’t tease her too much. My first time drinking was rough too,” Jeonghan said patting your back gently

“How do you not have a hangover?” you asked

“I just know how to drink.”

You rested your head on your arms with a groan.

“I never want to drink again,” you groaned

“You say that now...” Jeonghan chuckled

“Drink your coffee, Y/N. That should help.”

Seokmin looked over at Jeonghan for confirmation since he’d hadn’t drank before so he wasn’t so sure if that was a true statement. Jeonghan agreed with him, pushing your cup of coffee closer to you. You lifted your head and took a small sip of the hot coffee. It did make you feel a little better emotionally. Obviously not physically, your head was still pounding.

“So how did last night go? Besides the drinking and all that,” Soonyoung asked

“It was a pretty usual night. Shots, joking with the guys, dancing, girls, ya know. How was the night for you, Y/N?” Jeonghan turned to you

“I had...fun.”

“Wow, that sounds so fake,” Soonyoung giggled

“No, I did have fun! I just don’t remember most of it.”

“Aww don’t worry,” Jeonghan teased, “The hangovers get easier the more you drink.”

“I’m not drinking again!”

“Suuuuure.”

You were about to retaliate when you felt your phone buzz against the table. You picked it up and looked at the notification on the screen.

S - Hey Angel

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you stared at your phone. You don’t remember giving Seungcheol your phone number but apparently, you did. You opened your phone and typed out a text.

Y - Hey there

S - You left some stuff at my place

S - If you wanna come by and get it, feel free. I’ll be here all day

Y - Oh! I didn’t notice I’d forgotten something. Thank you I’ll be by in a bit

S - Do you know how to get here or were you too drunk to remember? 😉

Y - Haha. I’ll be over soon

“Hey Jeonghan,” you interrupted whatever conversation was going on around you, “I’ve gotta head out but thanks for the coffee.”

“Oh, you got somewhere to be?” Seokmin asked

“Yes I do, in fact,” you smiled

“She has a date with Seungcheol~” Jeonghan teased

“Seungcheol?! Is that the demon you...” Soonyoung made a rather suggestive gesture

“Ah! Stop it!” you slapped his hands to stop him, “And it’s not a date. I left some stuff at his house.”

“You were at his house?!” Seokmin gasped

“You two sound like children. Yes, I was there last night because this idiot,” you pointed at Jeonghan, “Got too wasted to bring me home. Seungcheol brought me to his place since he doesn’t know where I live. Now, if you excuse me.”

You left all the boys laughing, including Jeonghan who enjoyed the sass you were throwing his way. Seokmin waved you off, still laughing as you left the coffee shop. You swore you could still hear them as you walked down the street.

~~~

You knocked gently on Seungcheol’s front door. You waited a moment. He didn’t come to the door. You knocked again a little harder. You heard some footsteps then the door opened. He stood in front of you in only a pair of boxers with a towel in his hand.

“Hey, sorry. I was in the bathroom,” he nervously chuckled, “Come on in.”

He stepped aside and let you walk in. His place was the same as ever, dark, dim, and slightly seductive. He asked you to wait a second so he could go put on a shirt, which you wish he wouldn’t. You sat down on the couch. You played with your fingers while you listened to him rummage through his drawers in the other room. He came back out shortly after wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“Ok that’s better,” he walked over to the kitchen and grabbed something off the counter before walking back to you, “Here, you left this.”

You took the object from his hand. It was your wallet. You weren’t sure how you forgot something so important but you were glad you got it back before you needed it.

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” you let out a relieved sigh

“Yeah, no problem,” Seungcheol hummed sitting down next to you

You put your wallet into your bag safely. You looked over at Seungcheol for a moment before you felt your ears heating up. You cleared your throat and stood up saying you should head out.

“What’s the rush?” he smirked at you, grabbing your hand, “You just got here.”

Seungcheol pulled you back down onto the couch. You tried to protest but his lips shut you up. You let the feeling of his lips on yours consume you. You melted into the couch enjoying the sensations. His hands took purchase on your waist sliding under your shirt slightly. His hands on your skin sent a jolt up your spine. That shiver brought you back to your senses. You pulled away from the kiss and got out of Seungcheol’s grasp.

“I’m sorry. I just...”

“No no! I should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t want to leave but you didn’t want to stay. The tension was awkward but you wanted to clarify your actions.

“It’s not that I don’t want to do that with you, I very much do. It’s just...I’m confused.”

“Confused? About what?”

You looked over at Seungcheol. His eyes looked at you with concern and curiosity. His lips were parted slightly. He scanned your face looking for a hint as to what you were confused about. You really wanted to lean over and just kiss those lips but for a different reason than before.

“I...there’s just things on my mind- I need to figure things out.”

You stood up and went to the front door. Seungcheol followed after you, calling out for you. You left without saying anything else.

~~~

You sat in your house, tears still lingering on your cheeks. You had called Jeonghan on your way home from Seungcheol’s. Normally, you wouldn’t call Jeonghan for something like this but you needed love advice and the other boys have almost no experience with dating and such. He listened to you as you poured your heart out to him. He didn’t give you much in the way of advice but he was still a good listening ear.

After letting him go finally, you sat alone in your apartment half-watching something on TV. Your sniffles and the sounds of the TV were the only things you could hear. You were so tired. You decided to finally go get some proper sleep when you heard a knock at your door. You walked over and opened the door.

“Seungche-”

Your words were stopped by Seungcheol cupping your cheeks and kissing you passionately. This kiss felt different. It was soft. It was gentle. It was filled with love. You melted into the kiss, letting all the feelings you had bottled up in you out finally. After a moment, Seungcheol pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.

“I like you too,” he whispered

“How did-”

“Jeonghan told me,” you could hear his smile in his words

“That little...” you sighed

“I mean, it was pretty obvious though,” he chuckled breathily

“Stop teasing.”

You turned your face away from him but he gently pulled your head back to face him. His thumbs stroked over the few tears that still lingered on your face from before. You stared at him. You’d never seen him look so soft before. He gazed at you with concern but also with longing. Longing for you.

“I don’t want to see you cry anymore,” he whispered

“You didn’t see me cry,” you laughed with a sniffle

“Stop being smart with me. I’m trying to confess my feelings to you,” he chuckled

“Ok ok, I won’t say anything else until you’re done.”

“Thank you,” he cleared his throat, “I want to keep you safe, keep you away from all the bad stuff out there in the world and just let you live freely. I want to enjoy life with you.”

You gazed into his dark eyes. They didn’t feel as dark as they usually did, the slight red hue showing more than usual. His expression showed how genuine he was being with his words. His eyes looked glassy even. You smiled at him softly pushing your face into his hand.

“Be my angel.”

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sbtlns · 4 years

Text

Home, part five

Warnings: mainly fluff, very slight nsfw

A/N: sorry for the delay in posting, a bitch is goin through it! i hope you enjoy the recipe for the depression meal ive been making everyday of quarantine lmao. i’m working on a request that should be done later this week, so send me any requests you have! also if you have any thoughts on where you want this series to go let me know!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Cas carried the grocery bags to the front door where you stood, thumb running over the key that had rested idly on your keychain for three years. After seeing Castiel waiting patiently behind you, you unlocked the door and held it open for him. “Home sweet home, Cas!” you exclaimed cheerfully, taking in your surroundings. Castiel stood still, eyes taking in every detail your home had to offer. “This is a beautiful home, Y/N,” he said softly. “I think so too, Cas,” you smiled at him. “All right let’s put these groceries away and fix up some dinner,” you said, clapping his back and walking into the kitchen. Castiel followed closely behind you like a lost puppy. You sorted through the groceries, putting everything away except what you would be using to cook dinner.

“It’s already late so I’m just gonna make a quick pasta, if that’s okay,” you bit your lip looking for any signs of protest on his face. “I can cook something nicer tomorrow,” you added quickly. Castiel smiled reassuringly at you before saying, “pasta will be more than enough, thank you, Y/N.” You smiled back to him and turned to get some water boiling in the pot. Once it boiled, you dumped in some pasta and then grabbed a pan and set it on another burner. You threw some olive oil in the pan, followed by some garlic, chopped basil, and spinach. Once the pasta was done, you drained it and tossed it into the pan to mix it in with the other ingredients. Castiel stood behind you watching intently. “This smells lovely, Y/N,” he commented. “Well,” you said grabbing two bowls from the cabinet. “Let’s hope it tastes good too.”

You filled both bowls, grabbed silverware, and set it all down on the table. “Here, Cas,” you said gesturing to a bowl in front of an empty seat. He took the hint and sat down while you made your way to the cabinet to grab a wine glass. “Do you want some wine?” you asked over your shoulder. He furrowed his brow, deep in thought. After a few moments he replied, “I’m not sure if I will like it, but I would like to try.” You nodded and grabbed a second glass, filling both with white wine. You made your way back over to the table, setting his glass in front of him. You watched as he took a forkful of pasta and looked at it carefully before taking a bite. You stifled a laugh as his eyes widened, looking up at you and vehemently nodding. “Y/N,” he began, mouth full of pasta. “This..this is incredible!” “Thanks, Cas, it’s just pasta,” you laughed, digging in to you bowl. He took a big gulp of wine and you laughed at the way his face immediately scrunched up. “Cas,” you said between laughs. “You’re not supposed to chug it,” you told him while he coughed, struggling to recover from the burn of the alcohol. “I think,” he coughed, “I think I will stick to water for now.”

After the two of you finished dinner, Castiel was insistent on washing the dishes. “It’s the least I can do,” he repeatedly said in defense to your protests. “Fine, thank you. I’m gonna grab a shower, I’ll be back down soon,” you said over your shoulder as you made your way to the staircase. You walked up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping when you reached the spot where you had found your sister on that fateful night. You shut your eyes, clutching the necklace she had given you before her death tighter to your chest. Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the linen closet, grabbed a towel, and walked into the bathroom. You opened your music app on your phone while reaching into the shower to turn the hot water on. You undressed, singing to your favorite song and slipped into the shower. You sighed in relief as your muscles relaxed into the hot water; you had been driving for so long and it felt good to finally be home. You turned to grab the shampoo when you saw it. The biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. Your blood ran cold as a piercing shriek involuntarily left your lips. You desperately tried to back up from it, but lost your footing and you fell, scrambling to get out of the tub. You had just barely covered yourself with your towel and the door flew open and Castiel stumbled in.

“Y/N!” Castiel yelled, eyes wide in concern, darting across the room trying to find your attacker. Not seeing any threat, his brows furrowed as he cast his gaze down to you, dripping wet and clinging on to your towel. Your face was pale and you tried to explain yourself. “Sp-spider in th-the show-er,” you managed to get out, arm pointing behind you. Brows still furrowed, he tilted his head in confusion and stepped toward the shower. He drew back the curtain and found your assailant. He quickly scooped it up in his hands and left the bathroom. You took a deep breath and let out a shaky exhale, trying to calm yourself after making an absolute fool of yourself in front of Castiel. Silently cursing yourself, you stepped back into the shower.

After changing into one of Sam’s old college shirts that came to your mid-thigh and some boy-cut underwear, you walked back downstairs trying to overcome your embarrassment. Castiel was sitting quietly on the couch, thumbing through one of your coffee table books. He turned as he heard you enter the room and gave you a gentle smile. “The spider is outside, where he belongs,” he said assuringly. You gave him a stiff smile, trying to ignore the red creeping up your cheeks. You cleared your throat before saying, “sorry if I scared you I just....” you trailed off, plopping down next to him on the couch. Sighing, you continued, “I know that I literally fight monsters for a living but..spiders,” you shivered. “I don’t do spiders,” you said, cutting yourself off from rambling. Castiel nodded understandingly. “Some of my father’s creations can be...intimidating,” he agreed. You sighed again and shook your head. “Do you wanna do something? We could put on a movie or play a board game, or if you’re tired I can show you your room,” you said turning to the former angel. Castiel thought for a moment. He knew that he was tired and would soon require sleep, but he couldn’t shake the ever present longing to spend time with you.

“I think I would like to watch a movie with you,” he stated confidently, peering into your eyes. Fighting the urge to get lost in his eyes, you nodded and quickly turned to find the remote. The two of you decided on a cheesy looking horror movie, something you and Dean would have chosen for one of your weekly movie nights. You ignored the pang in your heart as you thought about the brothers, instead focusing on the movie in front of you. You settled into your seat on the couch, just inches away from Cas. He glanced longingly at the distance between you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. A decent chunk of the movie had passed when there was suddenly a jumpscare you hadn’t anticipated. You gasped loudly, jumping at the monster on the screen. Castiel fought the urge to wrap his arms around you, comforting you the way he had done after waking you up from the nightmare you had at the motel. He was about to turn his attention back to the screen when his eyes grazed your newly bare thigh. The big t-shirt you were wearing had ridden up most of your thigh when you jumped, leaving your skin exposed. His eyes wandered up your leg, stopping at the apex of your thighs, still covered by the shirt. Castiel crossed his legs, desperately trying to ignore his tightening pants, and looked back up at the screen. He tried not to think of how soft your exposed skin would be to touch, how your body would react to his hand inching up your thighs, creeping higher and higher until-

“Cas?” Your voice ripped him away from his thoughts. He quickly turned to you, his wide eyes meeting your concerned expression. “Yes,” he choked out. Your features softened and you chuckled. “Did you hear what I said?” He looked down, avoiding your gaze. “No,” he muttered. You laughed again, resting your hand on his thigh. His eyes shot open and he felt his heart race and a blush creeping up to his face. “I said,” you began in a teasing voice, “I’m tired and I don’t want to fall asleep down here. Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You stood up and Castiel watched in disappointment as you t-shirt fell back down to your mid-thigh. He got up and followed you up the stairs to the room directly across from yours. “If you need an extra blanket, there’s some in the cabinet, the towels are in the hallway closet, and.....” you look around looking for anything else worth mentioning. “I think that’s it. Tomorrow I was thinking we could go shopping for some clothes for you, unless you wanna keep wearing the same outfit,” you joked. “If you need anything I’m right across the hall, don’t hesitate to knock,” you said smiling up at the former angel. He glanced around the room before his eyes landed on you, returning your smile. “Thank you, Y/N, you have been very kind to me...more than I deserve I’m afraid,” he trailed off, casting his eyes down to the floor. “Hey,” you began, reaching up to lay your hand on his shoulder. “You deserve the world, Cas. You’ve been so good to me,” you said as he lifted his head, meeting your stare. You stood there smiling at him for a second before removing your hand and saying, “Goodnight, Castiel,” and walking out of his room and in to yours. “Goodnight, my Y/N,” he said softly, sighing as he watched you walk into your room and close the door.

You woke up feeling more well-rested than you’d felt in a while. You got out of bed and made your way downstairs, noting Castiel’s closed door. You brewed a pot of coffee, enough for the two of you to have a couple of cups. You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, reading the newspaper and carefully scanning the stories for any mysterious deaths in the area. You heard footsteps padding down the stairs followed by a yawn and you smiled to yourself. You turned around to greet the sleep ridden Castiel but you were met with a surprise. Standing before you was the former angel rubbing the sleep from his eyes, dressed in just the t-shirt he had been wearing the day before and a pair of boxers that were fitting a bit...snug. Castiel had not realized his predicament until he followed your line of vision down. His eyes shot open and his face burned in sudden embarrassment.

“Y/N, I-” he cut himself off searching for what to say. You looked back up at him with raised eyebrows and opened your mouth to respond before he cut you off. “My vessel..it....I don’t..know...” he stuttered in a panic. You reached out for his hand and took it between yours. “Cas,” you said softly, smiling reassuringly at him. “This is um, a very natural thing for um, for a man’s body..in the morning,” you said awkwardly. He pulled his hand back and hung his head in shame, turning away from you. You bit your lip, feeling for the newly human Castiel. All of these experiences must be so overwhelming for him, especially this. You debated what to do in your head; on one hand you were secretly dying to help him yourself, you had been fantasizing about you and the angel since you first met him. On the other hand, you knew you couldn’t take advantage of him, especially when he was so vulnerable. Sighing, the angel on your shoulder won out.

“Cas,” you said, clearing your throat. “Maybe um, maybe you should call Dean...this is kind of his area of expertise.” Castiel nodded before walking back up the stairs. You sighed to yourself as you sipped at your coffee, trying to ignore the heat that had pooled in your core.

--------

tag list: (message me if you want to be added)

@antoniamarie1989-blog @transparentfestivaltiger

#cas x reader #human!cas #castiel #castiel x reader #human!castiel x reader

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jjba-hell · 4 years

Text

One Clear Moment

Am I a cheese-fucker or am I confused? Is it just a phase? I DON’T KNOW SO DON’T COME FOR ME!

WARNING! Some HEAVILY suggestive content up ahead- never expanded on or detailed but it is way too obvious to not put the warning out there. Possible disordered eating (mention), mention towards trauma but not expanded on.

Consider this a ‘post- vento aureo’ timeline where you and Formaggio escape your deaths and decide to elope. Yes, some real fluffy domestic romance shit.

@lasquadraweek2020, @risottoneroo, @giogio-gucci-gangstar.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I promise I’ll stop annoying ya’ll with the tags when this week is over

1,8 K words and a gender neutral reader- good luck

“You up yet, sugar?” You heard Formaggio whisper in your ear.

You wanted to answer no, just be content to press yourself back into his chest with a sigh. Just so he can hold you a bit longer. But you only grumbled a soft no.

He laughed against the back of your neck, wrapping an arm around you softly and turning you to face him. “Baaaabe-“ he whined softly. “Forget breakfast at home- let’s go out to eat for breakfast.”

You stretched out in his arms, hooking your one leg over his hip. “You said that we’d go out for dinner tonight.”

A rough laugh vibrated in his chest as you turned to face him. “Why not both?”

“Or all day?”

He laughed pulling you in tighter. “Come on, you know I don’t get days off very often. I just want to get out of the house with my love.” He drummed his fingers on your back gently then perked you with a bright smile. “Beach day.”

You raised an eyebrow at him- “You just want me in the least amount of clothes possible.”

“Not my fault your ssooo hot angel face.” His forehead touched against yours, his hand running down your exposed side before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. “Ohhh honey buns.” He groaned against your lips- hand slipping from your hip to your backside.

“Sweetie, be gentle with me.” He nearly pleaded as you rolled him onto his back with you on top, running your hands up his bare chest. A whine came from his lips as you leaned forward, giving him just enough friction as you leaned down to kiss his neck.

“Beach day right?”

You rolled off of him before his hands could find purchase on your body and head straight to the closet for your swimwear.

“Baby!” He called from the bed as you head towards the kitchen to prepare snacks.

“Yeah?” You turned to stand at your bedroom door, leaning against the frame.

“Your teasing is gonna get you in trouble.”

“Ohhh I can’t wait to see where that trouble leads.”

You spun around and continued on your own mission.

You had gone to the trouble to prepare two cold salads, some finger quesadillas (a family favorite of Formaggio’s) and some muffins you had left in the cupboard but the second Formaggio slipped into the kitchen, he simply nodded at the packed bag, nodded and added the bags of cookies and chips and some bottles of water before zipping it up and giving you a kiss. “I’ll get these in the car. Would you bring the towels and sunscreen in your bag?”

“You got the umbrella?”

“Yeah, sugar.”

It was only after he had disappeared into the garage that you felt your heart swell with the cute domesticity- the two of you had been through hell and back against Bucciarati but the day after Formaggio could sneak away out of the explosion that day, he faked his death and soon the two of you eloped and never looked back. You had new names and new lives- you worked as a nurse at a pediatric clinic and he was working as a bar manager at a club nearby. Things were good- so impossibly good you were sure that by some way you had made it to heaven or that it was all just a dream.

You threw on a light shirt and some jean shorts and hopped into the car with your husband.

True to his word you had stopped at a beach front restaurant for a proper breakfast before deciding to rent some surf boards.

You’d been living so close to the beach for so long that surfing had definitely become a nearly mastered feat. With a smile on your face you sat up on your board and waited for your husband to paddle by. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve worked off breakfast?” He laughed.

You gazed up at the sun- it was probably around noon. “I believe you- it’s past noon. Need to reapply some sun screen too.”

You paddled back and tailgated in the trunk of your car- finishing half the water before setting up under the umbrella in the pristine white sand. The people started filling in the open spots on the beaches, the two of you leaning back and watching families and more couples than you could count. Formaggio looked up at you as you leaned over your own legs to get sunscreen over your feet.

“You ever wonder if we made a mistake picking this place?”

“Oh? And what would stop us from relocating?” You moved over to whisper in your ear. “Did you forget we’re not being watched anymore?”

Formaggio laughed, turning his head to steal a kiss on your cheek. “So we’ll talk where to next when we get home.”

You laughed at that. Was this what freedom felt like? At least you could admit that you forgot yourself but it was moments like this- that you could bask in the sunlight without the weight of the gang on your shoulders.

You had just finished the water in your hand when Formaggio leaned forward and kissed your jaw softly. You practically melted into him, leaning in closer, turning your head to kiss him properly.

But after a moment you stopped him and with a smile said. “We’re not going home.”

He gave an audible groan as he laid back into the trunk. “Doll face you can’t kiss me like that and expect me to behave.”

You turned back and hovered your upper body over him, with a pout you ran a hand over his chest. “But you promised.”

Formaggio ran a hand up your arm and sighed. “How am I supposed to say no to you sweet cheeks?”

You shot back up and got going again, making sure to massage the sunscreen into his back properly before you packed away the stuff back into the car and started your hand-in-hand walk along the boardwalk

You had occasionally indulged in some ice cream or a slushy together before heading through the supermarket closer to where you parked. You hopped into the car- exhausted by the day and head home. You had just packed the groceries away when Formaggio came to pick you up over his shoulder.

“Babe!” You laughed as he purposefully took wide steps to make you swing left and right over his shoulder. “Babe what are you doing?”

He gently put you down on the floor of the bathroom with a smile and were greeted with a filled up bubble bath and lit candles.

“I know you’re not really into this stuff but I thought you’d like to properly soak off the day.”

You turned around and kissed him eagerly, unable to stop yourself. “Join me?” You asked as soon as you broke away.

“Ohhh sweetums, I will.” He growled against your lips. “But I wanna get the pasta dough started for tonight first.”

You nodded eagerly and then slowly sunk into the water for a good soak.

Through the wall you heard your him put on the game for tonight- lucky for him it would be over before dinner, you just knew he liked some noise as he was kneading the dough.

You leaned your arms against the cool edge of the bath, wondering how you ended up with an Italian that liked making food from scratch- hard to imagine the bastard that would call and collect pizza and pasta at the restaurant near the squad base now refused to eat out. Sometimes you wondered if it was about his new identity he was so desperately trying to hide or if he genuinely liked making food from scratch.

The ten minutes of kneading passed and to your surprise Formaggio showed up into the bathroom with an anti pasta plate.

“You never stop eating, do you?” You laughed as he placed the platter on the lid of the empty laundry basket.

“I’m a growing boy, amore. I need to take care of myself.”

He poured you a glass of wine and joined you in the bath with a bottle of beer. One thing quite un-Italian of him but it was a little quirk you’d grown to love. “How’s the game going?”

You asked as you leaned out of the bath just enough to smeer two crackers with the sweet chilli cream cheese.

“Huh? How’d you know?”

You gave him his snack and smiled at his innocent surprise. “I’ve been living with you for four years, darling. I know you just want some noise while you’re kneading. Just like I know you hide the chocolate above the fridge so that I can’t reach it.”

He laughed at that, pulling you to face him on his lap. “And I know you sneak a cigarette after a nightmare but hate the smell of it on your hands so you hold the filter with a clothes peg.”

Your arm slid over one of his shoulders wrapping around him to bring him closer. “And I know you wash my smoking sweatshirt I leave outside once a week.”

“And I know you freeze the bread I bring home sometimes because you can’t eat it, which is bullshit by the way. If you wanna work off some extra calories, I’m sure you and I can figure something out.”

That mischievous grin slid over hid face as he brought his face closer to yours, noses touching as he pulled you close.

“Not in the bathtub, sweetie.” You groaned as he kissed up your shoulder to your neck.

He put his beer bottle down in the corner, not minding your warning so you put your wine glass down on the floor outside the bathtub.

“You’ve been denying me all day, baby. Please, honey. I’m so pent up.”

Oh how badly you wanted to give him what he wanted but if there was one thing you loved giving Formaggio, it was delayed gratification. So just as he had gotten handsy with your backside you stood up and stepped out of the bath.

He let out a strangled whine. “Hoonneey! I asked nicely.”

You sat on the edge of the bath with the towel. “Soon, babe. Trust me.” You gave him a kiss to the temple and got back up.

You picked up the plate he had brought- that was only finished halfway- and popped an olive in your mouth as you left.

He had often called you cruel for the way you teased but it had taken you a long time to realize how much he adored it- the suspense and the gratification made for a combo he couldn’t get enough of. You let him do the cooking for the dinner, sitting on the countertop in shorts with a glass of wine. You’d attempted to help him before and although he didn’t chase you out of the kitchen while he was working- but when you took a close enough step to his work, he littered kisses all over your face, stepping you away with a whispered. “No no no, my turn tonight.”

So you perched yourself on the countertop with your second glass of wine- every few minutes he’d come over, run his hands over the top of your thighs and settling himself between them nearing the end of his prep- alternating between gazing up at you with that stupid grin of his and peering around your waist to look at the soccer score on TV.

You sat cross-legged on the couch with your bowl of food and Formaggio next you as you watched the stupid soap story. Initially you two had laughed at the thought of being so domesticated you finished dinner on time for the soul purpose of having time to watch a stupid show on TV but at the same time it was comforting. To be side-by-side with each other when it seemed like you’d never have reached this point.

It was maybe also a distraction, perhaps a reminder to act normal under your new jobs and new names. His past was buried and burned in the street he had nearly died at and yours was buried under the blown up squad base.

Now you were simply a newlywed couple living a quiet life.

You packed in the dishes into the dishwasher and started the machine before cuddling up under Formaggio’s waiting arm until your show came to another boring end.

You lined kisses up his jaw, feeling low over his abdomen with your fingertips.

“Ohhhh sweetheart, please don’t tell me you’re teasing.”

You weren’t- he had waited long enough, so you silently felt him up just a bit more to see how well he’d restrain himself. When he let you do as you pleased without so much as making a move or whining you slipped down between his legs....

“I’m not teasing, sweetheart.”

#JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken #jojo part 5 #jojo golden wind #la squadra #lasquadraweek2020 #formaggio #formaggio x reader

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kk095 · 4 years

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The VIP

*I'm sorry I haven't posted in awhile. This story may have some typos, but I hope everyone enjoys!*

Tara Thompson was a pop/country singer who recently achieved stardom. Her debut album sold millions of copies, had ample amounts of radio/streaming airplay, and even won her a Grammy award. She recently purchased a beautiful and expensive house in Los Angeles, and was getting acclimated to the celebrity lifestyle. Tara seemed to have it all: talent, money, newfound fame, and of course, looks.

She was a 27 year old blonde, standing at 5'5 with beautiful blue eyes, a nice California tan, and a toned but petite body. She carried herself confidently (some would say borderline cocky) and had a good sense of humor, which made her a favorite amongst talk show hosts and fans alike.

Yesterday, fate had other plans for Tara. She was a trauma patient at our emergency department after being involved in a high speed MVC. At first, we didn’t realize it was her. When the call from dispatch came in, all we heard was “27 year old female, high speed MVC. Blunt chest trauma from steering wheel injury, tachy and hypotensive, ETA 6 minutes.”

I ordered the nurses to prep trauma room 1. “Let’s make sure we have the room set up. Get an intubation tray, a chest tube tray, and a thoracotomy tray just in case. Let’s make sure we have some meds around, go to the blood bank and 4 units o-neg, 2 of platelets, and 2 of FFP. Page cardio and trauma surgery, and let’s keep radiology on standby in case she’s stable enough for a scan.” I tell my subordinates as I pop on a yellow trauma gown and a fresh pair of gloves.

Before we knew it, the ambulance's sirens could be heard as it arrived at our emergency department. Moments later, the medics wheeled the patient into our trauma room. “oh my… that’s Tara Thompson…” I realized immediately. She didn’t look like her typical self. She was on a backboard and c-collar, stripped down to just her black bra and matching underwear. She had cuts, bruises, and abrasions scattered across her body, and she was in and out of consciousness.

The medics told us that the set up 2 large bore IVs and started her on ringer’s lactate for fluid resuscitation, and pushed a round of codeine for pain management.

Upon arrival at our emergency department, Tara’s vital signs were: BP 79/42, pulse 129bpm, and her oxygen saturation was down to 94%. We immediately started her on blood transfusions and drew trauma labs (CBC, BMP, toxicology screen). Since a chest injury was suspected, I ordered a chest x ray. The chest x-ray showed a sternal fracture with 2 broken ribs on the left side, a left sided hemothorax, and herniation of the heart into the right chest. I decided to follow that up with a FAST scan, which is just an ultrasound of the chest, belly, and pelvis. The chest portion of this test further confirmed the herniation of her heart, but to my surprise, there was no evidence of pericardial effusion or tamponade. The abdominal portion of the test showed some minor bleeding in the ULQ, which is typically indicative of a spleen injury. Since the bleeding didn’t appear to be major, that injury was to be monitored conservatively. Finally, the pelvic portion of the exam came back clean.

With all that information in mind, it appeared Tara had a chest injury that was explaining her hemodynamic instability. Even though she didn’t have tamponade, cardiac herniations are associated with great vessel injuries, particularly the pulmonary arteries or veins (the princess Diana case is a prime example of this injury process).

Since she had a hemothorax on the left side, we decided to place a chest tube. Tara’s left ribcage was sterilized and I made a 1 inch incision in between her ribs. Tara moaned loudly, feeling the scalpel’s every move since she wasn’t stable enough for me to anesthetize. She yelped loudly with tears running down her face while the tube was placed into her pleural space. Blood shot from the tube and onto my yellow trauma gown.

Outside of the trauma room, you could hear media personnel and paparazzi start to swarm the hospital’s entrance, waiting room, and ER nurses station. “How’s Tara?!” “Any updates?!” “can we get a word with Tara?!” were some of the things being asked. Hospital security was completely overwhelmed by the sudden mob of people, but were able to move everyone out to the hospital’s main entrance. “you can’t just stand around in the waiting room, that’s for patients only.” One of the security guards told the nosey crowd. Hospital administration decided to make a statement to the media and paparazzi to at least appease them for a little while. “Tara Thompson was brought to our emergency department after being involved in a high speed motor vehicle accident. Her exact condition is unknown to hospital administration, but our emergency department and other coordinating departments are working diligently to stabilize her injuries. We will present another update when more information is available, thank you.” Was the statement given to news media outlets.

Back in the trauma room, Tara’s condition began to decline. Her blood pressure was plummeting and she was groaning while drifting in and out of consciousness. With her deteriorating condition in mind, we decided to intubate her. “Push succs and etomidate and get me a 7.0 ET.” I called out as I placed the laryngoscope into Tara’s open mouth. “meds in" a nurse said as another nurse handed me the ET tube. I then began the intubation process. I navigated the tube through the right side of the mouth so my view wouldn’t be obstructed. I identified the epiglottis and then placed the tube into the upper portion of the trachea. I continued lowering the tube until it was about 2cm past the vocal cords. While I held the tube in place at that level, 1 nurse removed the stylet and the other inflated the cuff with an empty syringe. While still holding the tube in place, a nurse began to place a blue tube holder. After that, we confirmed tube placement and attached an ambu bag.

After intubation, we decided that Tara needed to be taken up to the OR for emergency surgery to treat her herniated heart and associated vessel injuries. We covered up her torso with a blanket and wheeled her out of the trauma room. We headed down the hall towards the elevator which led directly to the OR floor. “BP's still dropping, doctor" a nurse called out. “let’s push vasopressors and hang another unit of blood products from the rapid infuser. Let’s try to buy her a few minutes.” I replied.

During the elevator ride up, Tara became pulseless. “no pulse, but we have activity on the monitor.” A nurse called out, shaking her head. “she’s in PEA. Someone start compressions!” I replied urgently. A nurse pulled down the blanket and began deep, harsh chest compressions on the young celebrity. There was a popping sound during CPR from the sternum and rub fractures. “let’s get epi and atropine in. I wanna do a pulse check in 1 minute.” I barked to the trauma team.

Once the meds were in, resuscitation efforts went on. Tara’s chest caved in, causing her perky B cup breasts to jiggle in sync with the chest compressions. Her belly bounced outwards and her head bobbed from the residual force of the life saving efforts. When the 1 minute mark of the code was reached, we did a pulse check in the elevator. “still no pulse. PEA still on the monitors.” A nurse said anxiously. “resume CPR. Push meds at 4 minute mark.” I replied.

We reached the surgical floor a second or two after we resumed CPR. The elevator doors opened up and we were greeted by a few surgical nurses and a surgical resident. “she coded on the way up here. Down for a little over a minute. Pushed 1 of epi and atropine, no shocks. Still in PEA.” I told the surgical resident. “ok doc. Follow us, OR 3 is prepped and ready for her.” The resident replied to me. Deep, harsh chest compressions continued on the singer while she was wheeled through the corridors of the OR floor. “wait a minute. Is that…?” The resident asked before I cut her off. “yep, it’s our VIP patient.”

Tara’s complexion was fading just as fast as she was. Her fresh, tan complexion was now a ghastly, pale that had a grayish tinge. Her lips could be seen through the blue tube holder, and they were now a reddish purple color. Her eyes were half open, staring blankly off into space, devoid of any life or emotion.

Just a minute or so later, we were in OR 3. We were greeted by the surgical attending and the OR staff who were waiting by the OR table. “oh boy, what happened to her?” the surgical attending asked me, surprised to see is bring in an active code. “she coded on the way up. Pushed 1 of epi and atropine, 0 shocks, down for 1:45 and counting. PEA present on last pulse check.” I replied to the surgical attending. The surgeon continued “ok. Let’s get her on the table on my count. One… two… THREE!”

The monitors chirped loudly during the transfer. Tara’s body moved limply while she was moved over to the OR table, still showing no signs of life. “resume compressions! Let’s get a repeat echo and an abdominal ultrasound.” With CPR ongoing, the nurses and surgical techs got the ultrasound machine set up and squirted the cold, gooey gel onto her chest and belly. The surgeon took the wand and moved it onto the gel spot on the belly. “splenic lac, but I don’t think it explains this.” The attending thought out loud, referencing the code blue. They then did a repeat echo: “ok, here’s our problem.” The surgeon said within milliseconds of the ultrasound being done. “cardiac herniation. No tamponade, but she’s bleeding into her chest. I think it might be the pulmonary veins. If it were the pulmonary artery, she would’ve died at the scene.” The surgeon continued.

We did a pulse check at the 4 minute mark, and she was still in PEA. The surgical team pushed the next round of epi and atropine, and they started the first dose of bicarb. Since Tara was in rough shape, the surgeon decided the next course of action is to open her chest via a clamshell thoracotomy in order to make structures in both halves of the thorax visible, especially because of the cardiac herniation into the right chest.

Betadine was splashed across the singer’s bare chest. The surgeon made an incision in the 5th intercostal space, which extended across the entire anterior chest. With the first cut out of the way, a 2nd cut had to be made to incise the subcutaneous tissue in order to expose the sternum, intercostal muscles, and costal cartilage. Now that the intercostal muscles were exposed, heavy scissors were used to snip through the muscle on both sides of the chest in order to create space for the rib spreader, which goes in a few steps later. The next aspect of the clamshell thoracotomy is to divide the sternum in half horizontally. This is somewhat of a challenge since it’s the 2nd hardest bone in the body (the orbital bones, a.k.a. eye sockets are #1), and because Tara sustained a sternal fracture. The sternal fracture was stable and a little above the halfway mark of the sternum, so the usual spot could be cut through. An electric sternal saw was then passed over to the surgeon so the sternum could be divided. The saw made a high pitched grinding sound as the drill cut through the dense bone effortlessly. There was some blood leakage after the drilling was done. The cause of the blood was from the inferior mammary artery being cut from the drill. This is a common complication during clamshell thoracotomies, but it’s easily treatable and isn’t an immediate concern since her heart isn’t pumping blood effectively. The next step was to place the rib spreader, which was put in the center of the chest over where the divided sternum is. With external CPR halted, the knobs on the rib spreader were turned so the chest could be opened up. The OR became filled with a popping and cracking sound from Tara’s ribs breaking.

There was an immediate rush of blood upon entry to the chest. Suction was applied to the area and clamps were placed on the inferior mammary artery since it was injured, and the descending aorta down by the diaphragm. With additional blood accumulation in the chest cavity, the OR team decided to place a 2nd chest tube, which would go on the right side. While the 2nd chest tune was being placed, the pericardium was cut and the heart was delivered so effective internal resus could take place. The 2nd chest tube drained a decent amount of blood, which pooled on the OR floor. Once proper chest tube placement was confirmed, internal massage started.

The surgeon wrapped her hands around Tara’s weakly moving heart and placed her thumbs on the left ventricle. She pushed in a hard, upwards motion on the left ventricle to pump blood outwards. The surgeon’s internal compressions made a wet, rhythmic squishing sound while she tried to force Tara’s heart to do its job. After a cycle or two of internal massage, the surgical resident took over internal resus while the surgical attending dug around in the celebrity’s chest cavity trying to control the hemorrhaging.

While the surgeon was probing around in the woman’s chest, her ET tube became clogged up with blood. In order to keep her airway intact, the ambu bag had to be disconnected and the tube had to be suctioned out. The suction made a wet, soggy slurping sound during this quick process. With the airway restored, the ambu bag was attached and oxygenation was able to continue.

Tara reached the 7 minute mark of the code with no improvement. Another bag of blood products were hung, making this her 8th transfusion (her entire blood volume), and the next doses of epinephrine, atropine, and sodium bicarbonate were injected intravenously. One of the pulmonary veins were stretched out while the other was absolutely shredded. The surgeon was having a difficult time with the shredded vessel. They clamped off the severed end and tried to staple it to the left atrium after the heart was repositioned. However, the staples didn’t hold so the vessel and left atrium continued to leak blood into the chest cavity.

The surgeon restarted their efforts to control the hemorrhage, but the medications were able to convert Tara to a shockable rhythm. The attending surgeon then ordered the team to charge the internal paddles to 20 joules. An electrical whirring was heard during the charging process before the large, spoon shaped paddles were handed off to the doctor. The paddles were lowered into the chest and placed around each side of Tara’s fidgeting heart. Once everyone backed away, shock #1 was delivered. A dull thump was heard, and Tara’s torso flopped slightly in response to the quick jolt of electricity. “still in v-fib.” A nurse called out, shaking her head. The surgical resident resumed internal massage for a moment while the paddles were recharged to a slightly stronger setting of 30 joules.

When the paddles were recharged, they were lowered back into Tara’s chest and the next shock was delivered. The singer’s torso jerked again and her toes curled, showing off a few sharp wrinkles in her soft, size 7 soles. Shock #2 failed to ameliorate the situation since v-fib was still present on the monitors. A cycle of internal massage was performed while the internal paddles were readied for the next shock. Her ET tube became clogged with blood once again, so suction was required to restore her airway. Once her airway was cleared, the next shock was delivered. A dull, wet thump was heard in the OR, and Tara’s upper body flopped limply on the OR table. This shock sent her back into PEA, so internal massage had to be restarted.

Tara’s skin was freezing cold and had a pale, grayish tinge that was becoming more and more noticeable by the second. Her heart felt warm and firm, twitching weakly but frantically. Multiple cycles of internal massage failed to convert her or achieve ROSC, so another dose of cardiac stimulating drugs were pushed at the 11 minute mark of the code. At that point, things started to become repetitive in the code. Cycle after cycle of internal massage failed to produce any change, and the room grew increasingly quiet.

Medications were pushed at the 14 and 17 minute mark of the code, respectively, and the 10th round of blood products were hung from the infuser. These 2 doses of meds failed to produce a shockable rhythm. Tara spiraled further downhill, with an agonal rhythm displaying on the heart monitors. Tara was also maxed out on meds at 17 minutes, so if she were to come back, it would either be now or never.

The surgical team performed internal massage for another 3 and a half minutes, but Tara was asystolic, had no respirations, and her pupils were fixed and dilated. Despite everyone’s best efforts, Tara Thompson was pronounced dead at 10:26am.

The flatlined monitors were switched off and the ambu bag was detached from the ET tube. A nurse began pulling off the EKG electrodes from Tara’s lifeless body while another nurse removed the IVs. The chest tubes, clamps, and rib spreaders were all removed. Tara’s eyes remained half open, almost appearing as if she was watching the nurses perform postmortem care. The nurses then shut her eyes and covered up the young woman’s battered body. Lastly, a toe tag was placed on the big toe of her left foot. The tag dangled in front of Tara’s cute, wrinkly soles as she was wheeled off to the hospital morgue.

Now that Tara was dead, the doctors and hospital administration met in order to figure out how to address the media since this was a high profile case, and her death at their facility may be bad for the hospital’s public image.

At 11am, the hospital administrator and board of directors decided to meet with the press and paparazzi, sparing the doctors of the media circus. The statement was the following:

“We thank you all for your patience this morning. As many of you know, singer-songwriter Tara Thompson was brought to our emergency department after being involved in a high speed motor vehicle accident. She arrived in unstable condition and our emergency department and required emergency surgery. During this surgery, her condition deteriorated further. Despite our staff’s best efforts, Ms Thompson passed away at 10:26am. We’re all very saddened by her untimely passing, and we request that you give her family, friends, and our staff time and space to grieve this loss properly. Thank you.”

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animechick2015 · 4 years

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My Hero Academia- My Unwanted, Long Ass Ramble That Absolutely No One Asked For......

So being at home 🏡 due to mostly COVID-19 and a crumbling economy, I decided to rewatch all of my favorite animes, from Bungou Stray Dogs, Inuyasha, Demon Slayer, Fairy Tail and finally My Hero Academia. Once again I was entranced by the bright colors, spectacular animation and lovable characters that Kōhei Horikoshi-Sensei created. But coming to the end of the recent Season 4 a revelation came to me: I just don’t like Deku as the main character 😱.

I know. I know. I must be certifiably insane not to love such a cinnamon roll, with his cute freckles, messy green hair and 1,000,000 megawatt smile. But it’s true. I have no interest with him as the main character. After this new discovery I decided to think why I didn’t like him and the reason was simple: he’s predictable or rather his story is.

From the on set we were told that he’s going to be the greatest hero ever. Every arc that he’s been in he comes out on top with a new increase usage of his power. After finishing Eri’s arc I was just like ‘huh, is it going to be more seasons of this?’ Now for those of you thinking well you just watched the anime, you should read the manga.....I read it religiously every week. It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing you can bet I’ll drop everything I’m doing just to read and re-read that chapter; find myself on tumblr and read all the fan theories and musings about said chapter. So i know what’s going on in the manga and once again I just like meh he’s going to be on top anyways why should I bother getting invested 🤷🏽‍♀️

Dammit Deku don’t look at me like that 🥺.

I still love him and I am proud of how far he’s come but I just can’t find it in myself to get hyped up for him.

So who do I get hyped up for? Well I’m glad you asked ( I know you didn’t but here it is anyway hehe)

Bakugo Katsuki

The gremlin of Class 1-A. King Explosion Murder. Future Number 1 Hero (I wish). Before anyone can finish asking who my favorite character is in MHA I’ll blurt this angry boi’s name. There’s just something about that drew me in from the very first episode/chapter. Yes he was a JERK, bully and ok he was an absolute asshole to Deku but there was something that kept me thinking I want to see more of this asshole. In the beginning, I thought he was going to be another Sasuke type character: join an evil group at the first chance, battle the main character throughout and eventually find his way back to being good and I was like meh. But then the Sports Festival arc happened and I was oh, this boy’s got potential so I took off my Naruto googles and started to really looking at him. If I’m honest, the first time I saw him as a hero was during his fight with Uraraka. I got so hyped during that match that I was standing and cheering, tears in my eyes for the both of them! When the spectators started to complain about Bakugou being too rough with Uraraka I was about to throw hands with fictional characters. Then when Aizawa gave his speech about Bakugo giving his all and respecting Uraraka and I was sold.

Since then I’ve been an avid supporter of his. During the Kamino arc I was worried but also impressed that he was able to go up again members of the League of Villains and was smart enough to realize that he was holding All Might back from going all out again AFO. His fight with Deku was emotional and I was a sobbing mess. Him going through the Hero License arc with all that guilt showed me his determination to being a hero. Even though he wants to portray that he doesn’t care about anyone but himself, he shows time and time again that he cares about Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero. He’s observant with Todoroki and Endevour during the Support Courses. He pushes Deku. He has so many layers as a character that I want to know more about him. Do I think that maybe he should’ve been the main character, yes I do. But I’m ok with him being a support character as well. I can’t wait to learn more about him and to see him be the amazing hero I know he’ll be.

Uraraka Ochako

Ok this girl right here 👆that’s my sunshine girl and no one is allowed to mess with her. Got it?? Seriously, I love this girl. She radiates warmth, hugs and pure unadulterated happiness. Just something about her face just makes me happy and I just wanna squish her round cheeks. Ok ok I’ll stop.

But seriously she is such an underrated character. I know for a fact she gets a lot of unnecessary hate because one: for being Deku’s love interest (I’m not really invested in their relationship tbh but if it happens I’ll be cool with it) and two: her reason for being a hero is to make money. Funnily enough the reason why she’s most hated by fans is the reason why I love her so much. She’s a young girl from a poor family who just wants to make her parents happy and I relate to that so much it made me want to cry when I first learned of her reasoning. Out of all the characters in the MHA world I connected with her the most. In addition, what I admired about her is that yes, she does have feelings for Deku but she’s able to put them aside and follow her goals. Like damn it who wouldn’t admire that? Who can’t relate to pushing their feelings aside to accomplish their goals? I seriously love this girl. Also, I love that she doesn’t limit hereself. When she started U.A. she wanted to be a support hero because of her quirk but after her fight with Bakugo she saw the potential to be more and she took it, trained and made herself better. She really is an inspiration. I hope we get to see more of her in action and maybe even lead a fight instead of being support. I can’t wait to see her grow and blossom into a badass ass woman who kick your ass while looking like an angel sent from above.

Shigaraki Tomura

Finally, this crusty boi gets me so hyped whenever he’s on screen or in a manga chapter that it’s probably unhealthy. From the very first time I saw him at that bar with those creepy ass hands covering his body I was intrigued to say the least. Every time I see him, I’m silently (not really) begging Horikoshi-Sensei to give me more of him. There was just something about him that screams more.

Fast forward to the Villain arc (one of my favorites tbh) and we learn more about his history and what he had to endure and dammit I just wanted to hug him. It’s so easy to hate the bad guys for hurting people but do we stop to think about who hurt them? And my boy was hurt a lot.....from his family (the ones who were supposed to protect him), the heroes (whose literal JOB IS TO PROTECT PEOPLE!), AFO (don’t get me started on that creepy bastard). And then suddenly I was supporting the villain. A part of me wants Shigaraki to succeed because if he does the hero society will admit their many flaws and idk maybe get rid of the hero vs villain Society that caused problems for generations 🤷🏽‍♀️ just a thought. Honestly if Shigaraki was the main character of this story I think it would’ve been much more interesting. I would definitely like to see more of him and I really want him to shake the hero society to the core.

So there it is.... my unwanted, unnecessary (if we’re being honest here) ramble about MHA. What started as a post about not liking Deku as the MC turned into......this. I’m sorry 😭. But once again I’m not hating on Deku. I love my little broccoli boi and I’ll be supporting him until the time he does indeed become Number One (maybe I’ll get myself a pair of red sneakers to match Deku’s before that happens), but there’s so many more characters that hold my interest other than him. I wish I could’ve listed them all but frankly I’m tired and hungry and I need to take a shot of something after this week’s chapter because Oh My God!!

Anyways, if anyone made it this far down my post, thank you for reading, please don’t be mean and have a great week!

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #deku #bnha uraraka #urakara ochako #bakugou katsuki #king explosion murder #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #my ramblings #please dont bully me #my thoughts #long ass post #sorry lmao

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theweakestthing · 3 years

Text

An Undone Bird

Chapter: 2/32

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Teen

Additional Tags: Post-Episode AU: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Fix-It, Amnesia, Road Trips, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Injury Recovery, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester Is Trying, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Literary References & Allusions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary:

What now?

This might be the last chance they have, so Dean's not gonna waste it.

Read it on Ao3 here

A crackling sensation broke like static through the air around them, as though a storm was just about to break, like lightning could strike right beside them at any moment. Dean found himself sat behind the wheel of the impala outside the bunker. Moments ago, they’d been stood at the edge of a lake watching as Chuck and Jack stared each other down, and now he was a couple hundred miles away and inside a his car. At least Sam was sitting shotgun beside him.

“What happened, what the fuck just happened?” Dean asked, voice rough, as he turned to his brother.

“I don’t know,” Sam returned, hazel eyes wildly skidding over their surroundings.

“Where’s Jack?” Dean asked, looking around too, he shifted in his seat but there was nothing there. There was nothing but grass, the dirt road and the entrance to the bunker out beyond the confines of the car.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied with growing distress, his hair fell over his face as he whipped his head around.

“What the fuck?”

“I don’t know.”

Dean pushed his hands through his hair, his fingernails dragged over his scalp, as despair stared to creep in around the edges. They had lost so much. They had lost damn near everything. Jack was all they had left. Regret and guilt swelled inside him, there was so much he wanted to take back and ever more that he should have said, should have done. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it.

There was a whole host of things he wanted to take back and an entire Mariana trench of things he should have said to a lot of people that weren’t there to hear it. He wondered, if he prayed to Cas, would he hear it? Dean smacked his fist against the steering wheel. There was never time. It had barely been more than a week since Cas had gone, since Cas had sacrificed everything for them again. And the weight of Cas’ last words sat heavy in chest like cinder blocks weighing him down.

The reality of those words had barely sunk in. Dean couldn’t think about it, not now, not when the world might still be ending. If he let it wash over him then he was damn sure that he’d drown and then what use would he be?

What use was he now?

“Jack,” Sam yelled and clambered gangly out of the car.

Dean looked up and saw a swath of sandy hair splayed out against the dirt. That was all he needed to see before he was scrambling out of the car himself, almost eating dirt when he caught his foot between the seat and the floor, and all the while both he and Sam were calling for Jack. The boy groaned as he rose onto his hands and knees. That pristine white jacket was scuffed and smeared with dirt, his face was a little scratched up, and his hair was mussed and fell messily over his face.

Sam got there first. His long legs and head start working against Dean. He slipped his arms up under Jack’s armpit and hoisted him onto his feet. Jack’s feet dragged as Sam pulled him into a hug. The kid seemed pretty dazed. They held onto each other, fingers twisted in the fabric of their jackets, and Dean figured that none of them could afford to lose a single thing anymore.

“What happened?” Dean asked. He was sick of asking. And though he could have guessed some things, mostly there was no way that Jack would be there and in one piece if Chuck still had any power over them, but he needed to hear it.

“I – I did it,” Jack said, smiling up at Dean, still looking bewildered with Sam’s long fingers in his tussled hair.

“Did what?”

“It went just like we planned,” Jack said, and that innocent toothy childlike smile broke wide across his face, the sight of it made an odd sense of pride rise in Dean’s chest. “I absorbed his power, and now he’s just like everyone else.”

“Yeah, it’s what he deserves,” Dean spat. It was the least of it. To be just like the rest of them, powerless and insignificant, left to fight for his existence with the rest of the human race, the thought was vindictively satisfying.

“Wait, so you’ve got the power of God inside you, what about Amara?” Sam asked, alarm and concern barely restrained in the curled furrow of his brow.

“The balance of those powers now exists everywhere, I dispersed it evenly throughout the universe, and left enough in heaven to uphold it and left instruction for the remaining angels to turn it into what it was always meant to be,” Jack explained, looking between the brothers, as though he were simply talking about what he’d had for breakfast. “I also brought everyone back.”

Dean shared a look with Sam. It was over. It was finally over, the win to end all wins, and Dean wasn’t sure that he felt any kind of way about it. He was numb. Maybe the dam in his mind would break sometime soon and all those feelings he’d been holding back for all these years would finally pull him down into the undertow. He couldn’t afford that yet. Dean swallowed and turned his attention back to Jack.

“And you did all that in what, five minute?” he asked, one brow arched as he smiled in disbelief.

“I did most of it simultaneously, though I think I could have shaved several seconds off, but I’ve never done it before,” Jack said with a shrug, face slightly scrunched up, as though he were disappointed in himself.

“You’re really one of a kind kid,” Dean said through a short bark of laughter.

“So what now, you’ve got your grace back?” Sam asked, always the smarter and focused one, asking the important questions.

“No,” Jack replied, suddenly serious, “I expended nearly all my energy restoring everything and everyone,” he explained.

“You’re not dying again, are you?” Sam asked, stealing the words straight out of Dean’s mouth, his eyebrows reached toward his hairline.

“No, I’m not dying,” Jack shook his head and smiled softly, “I’m just mortal now, like you.”

“You could have been God,” Sam said, voice tinged with a strange sense of awe, as though that was something they might want to do given everything they’d been through.

“I’d rather be Jack Kline,” he said, “I’d rather be with you.”

The smile he shone at them was as bright as sunshine, blinding and warm, his eyes shimmered and Dean was pretty sure that if this went on any longer they’d all start tearing up. He felt the same. He’d rather have Jack right there with them, they didn’t need another God.

“We feel the same Jack,” Sam said, voice wavering as he held onto Jack’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we do,” Dean said.

And he finally put his hands on the boy. He hauled Jack toward him and held on tight. Dean enveloped Jack in his arms, and Jack gripped him too. Jack’s hands were caught in the back of Dean’s jacket, face buried in his shoulder, breaths harsh rapid across his collar bone. Dean pressed his face against the top of Jack head and closed his eyes. His family was back together and he was going to hold on to them this time.

As he stepped away from Jack, Dean ruffled his already unruly hair, and Jack ducked his head as he laughed. He had a lot to repair between them and that started here.

Sam went still for a moment, drawing their attention, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He stared at the screen and became still again, almost statuesque.

“It’s Eileen,” Sam said, voice quiet and brittle as his wide eyes began to shine, hands shaking. “She says she’s in Jasper, Arkansas,” he added, frowning slightly. “Dean, we have to go get her,” he looked up at Dean and Sam’s puppy soft expression so completely reminded him of the small boy he’d practically raised. That boundless hopeful smile took up his whole face, and who the hell was Dean to deny his younger brother?

“Of course we’re gonna get her Sammy,” Dean said, returning Sam’s smile. “C’mon kid, we’re going to Arkansas,” he added, herding Jack into the backseat of the car.

line break

The sun was just peaking over the horizon as they pulled around the corner. Eileen was sat on the bench at the bus stop, staring down the road, and the way her face lit up at the sight of Baby stole Dean’s breath. If Sam’s gasp was anything to go by, then he was feeling something similar, though probably more intense. It was good to see his brother so happy after everything.

Dean had barely pulled up to the curb when Sam barrelled out of the car like an overexcited Saint Bernard and wrapped his arms around Eileen. He lifted her clean off the sidewalk. And by the time Dean and Jack made their way over to the bus stop, Sam had set her back down, and they were staring at each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers. The sight of it filled Dean with such warmth that he might never feel the cold again. Yeah, it was fucking fantastic to see his brother happy again.

“Back from the dead, twice, you’re almost one of us,” Dean said, voice as clear as he could make it through his smile, hoping she could read his lips. He held his arms wide open.

Eileen punched his arm, smile taking up her pale oval face, and stepped into Dean’s embrace. Dean squeezed her tight for a few long seconds before letting her go.

“I’ve been dead three times,” Jack said and signed, like he was proud, and the sound of it twisted Dean’s gut into knots. Though, hopefully, he might have just been hungry. Eileen chuckled and hugged the kid.

“I don’t even wanna think about how many times we’ve died,” Sam muttered, brows furrowed as his eyes slid over to Dean.

“Hey, let’s not get all Eeyore suddenly,” Dean shot back, pointedly staring back at Sam as he tilted his head slightly toward Eileen. “It’s a good day, don’t wanna ruin it.”

Sam’s gaze returned to Eileen and his face broke into a smile again. And then they were back to staring at each other like there was no possible way for them to get enough, it didn’t even seem like they were aware of how they were leaning toward each other, but they were the only ones that seemed surprised when they finally kissed. Dean shook his head and looked over at Jack. The boy simply smiled back at him, pride written all over his face, and Dean couldn’t stop it from swelling inside him too.

They all owed Jack so much.

Dean was yanked from his rose-tinted thoughts by his phone vibrating against his thigh. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID, he didn’t recognise the number but he answered anyway, you never knew who could be in trouble.

“Hey,” Dean breathed into the phone, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, but I work for the Willapa Harbor hospital in South Bend,” came the gentle voice of a woman, she sounded professional but empathetic.

“Which South Bend?” Dean asked, thoroughly confused.

“Washington,” she replied. They were about a whole twenty six to thirty hours from Washington depending on which part she was calling from. “We have a patient here by the name of James Novak, your number was in his phone.”

Dean’s heart stuttered in his chest, the force of it made him gasp, and he was blinking back tears before he knew it. It was Cas, it had to be. The woman on the phone was calling out to him.

“Yeah, yeah I know Jimmy, he’s family. What’s happened to him?” Dean’s heart was beating like a jackhammer against the back of his sternum, trying for a jail break.

“Alright sir, well he’s been in a car accident and he’s suffered a head trauma and has a concussion, and he has a broken collarbone, he also appears to have amnesia,” she explained, tone soft and clear.

“Amnesia?” Dean barked, his brows leaped up his forehead as he watched the traffic whizz by, the world really was alive again and Dean had no idea how to deal with it.

“Yes.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean muttered as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think, “we’ll be there in a few days, we’re coming all the way from Arkansas ya see,” his vision was swimming, he sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“That’s alright sir, we just need some information and then I can let you go,” she said, and Dean could hear the clacking of a keyboard.

He nodded, despite himself, and reeled off some info both real and fake before eventually hanging up. The blank phone screen stared back at him. Dean continued to stand there, frozen to the spot. It was Cas.

“What’s up Dean?” Sam called. He was only a few feet away, but to Dean it sounded like he was at the other end of a long dark tunnel.

“It’s Cas,” Dean said, voice thick, he blinked at his phone screen. “He’s in a hospital in South Bend, Washington,” he added, brows pinched as he tried not to let the relief overwhelm him.

“He’s in a hospital,” Sam repeated, face scrunched in confusion, “how’s he in a hospital?”

They both turned to Jack.

“I brought him back graceless, mortal, I figured that way the Empty can’t get him again and really it was the only way I was able to pull it off. And I placed him in North Cove, not for any particular reason, I guess it was just the first place that came to mind and I was resurrecting nearly eight billion other people at the time too,” Jack explained, blinking in that lost and innocent way of his, like a concerned puppy. “Though it is concerning that he’s in a hospital,” he added, frowning.

“They said he’s got amnesia,” Dean muttered, turning back to Sam.

“Amnesia?” Jack asked, head tilted in that way that made Dean’s chest ache, like father like adopted son Dean supposed.

“He’s lost his memory?” Sam said, his brows raised in alarm.

“Yeah,” Dean swallowed hard before continuing, “he was probably disorientated and confused or something. They said he got hit by a car.” He suddenly remembered that his phone was still in his hand and set his mind to sliding it back into his pocket, better that than to think about Cas, dazed and confused, being hit by car. “Why didn’t you say anything about Cas?” he rounded on Jack.

“I did,” Jack said, almost defensive, hands sliding into his jacket pockets as he turned to face Dean.

“When?” Dean bit back, brow furrowed and anger rising. If he’d have known then he could have called Cas and maybe they wouldn’t be about to spend a few days driving, maybe they could have met in the middle and Cas would be okay. Sam shot him a look, but Dean didn’t care, it was a pretty damn big thing to miss out.

“I told you I brought everyone back,” Jack said, expression twisted with confusion and frustration, “everyone I could anyway.”

Dean sighed, closing his eyes. He’d been so close to chewing the kid out, but he smothered the urge, and forced that anger all the way down into his gut. That wasn’t him anymore, he was trying to be better. He knew now and that was all that mattered.

Instead of saying anything, he just nodded.

“What’s going on?” Eileen asked, signing as she spoke, she looked between the three of them huddled on the sidewalk.

“Uh, Dean got a call, and Cas, he’s alive and he’s in a hospital in Washington, he was hit by a car,” Sam said, words stilted as he did his best to sign along.

“Then what are we doing, waiting for the bus? Let’s go already,” Eileen said and started to push them toward the car, Dean stumbled as Jack fell against his side, she was surprisingly strong.

#destiel #casdean #deancas #spn #spn fanfiction #mine #an undone bird

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typicalmidnightsoul · 4 years

Text

Home video fic

My first prompt fic. This was requsted by @ Dayanna_Cahill_Fray_Chase and @my-fan-side. Nesta discovers a home video which she watches with her sister basically.

The edits are basically a story board so plz check that out I wasn’t going to post these but my cousin made me <3 Love ya cuz.

If you have anymore prompts feel free to send them to me <3

Cassian woke up trying to reach for Nesta but instead finding a cold side of bed. He had gone to the rooftop pool with Nesta and safe to say they had a…rough night. He pushed himself up and leaned against the headboard, the bathroom door was open giving him a full view of his fiancé’s back in that pretty white bathing suit. She was putting on mascara, her clothes on the heating rack in the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“Starbucks then my old house. It’s about time I cleared that place up.”

He grimaced, the old house as in the villa she grew up in that have reminders of her dead parents.

He started getting up only to have Nesta push him down, “You didn’t get much sleep last night,” She started fixing her bandanna in the mirror, “Stay. I’ll see you later.”

He rolled his eyes, “You didn’t get much sleep either.”

“That’s why I’m going to Starbucks,” She winked and trotted down the stairs leaving.

Well then he could also get Starbucks.

------

She was waiting in the line, scrolling through Instagram not bothering to look behind her. As she got to the front she smiled at the barista,

“Hey could I have-” a hand came around her waist.

“Caramel macchiato, Venti with extra whip, please.”

The barista smiled, “And for you sir?”

Cassian smiled, “me? Well-“

“He wants a Venti iced hazelnut macchiato, no whip and light ice.”

“Names?”

Cassian pinched her waist, “Nessie and Cassian.”

Nesta threw him a harsh look.

They moved along to the end.

“What are you doing here?”

“Helping you clear up your parent’s villa.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You know sweetheart you chug down coffee like its water I don’t think it’s healthy.”

“Shut up Cassian.”

The baristo handed their drinks to them giving Nesta a flirtatious smile which Nesta returned only to piss Cassian off.

Cassian growled.

She pulled him out of the coffeehouse before he could make a scene.

“Did you bring your car?” she asked him, because she hadn’t, she was planning on taking an uber.

He grunted a response she assumed was a yes.

As they got to his car, he opened the car door for her but didn’t look at her. She rolled her eyes.

She got in his black Bentley, as he got in next to her she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Baby.”

No answer, “Baby!”

“Yes?” He turned, his lips so close to hers.

“I love you.” She pressed her lips to his, it always worked.

As she sat back, his hand went on her thigh.

“Are you sure you should be going there wearing that, babe? I mean as gorgeous as you look, will you be able to move around in it?”

She looked down at her baby blue Bardot tie front and high waist shorts.

“You’d be surprised sweetie.”

As they pulled up to the rustic villa Nesta sighed. Home.

She jogged up to the front door and opened it.

After all the Archeron sisters had moved out with their respective boyfriends and their father…passed the house was left the exact same way. She assumed it was an Archeron thing as after her mother died everything was left the same in her chambers as well.

She sipped her coffee.

“I’ll get started on clearing up the cellar babe, you get started upstairs ok?”

She mindlessly nodded heading upstairs; she had somewhere she needed to go. Something that was begging her attention.

She trotted down the marble hallway into her mother’s second room. The room she didn’t share with her father that she slept more and more in after their marriage was breaking. She went in and gasped. If Nesta didn’t know better she’d think her mother had gone to a party, because the room was immaculate, but still somehow like her mother.

Her mother’s perfume slanted on the table as if she’d just used it, her coat slung over her arm chair, a corner of her duvet folded over.

Her eyes got watery at the jewellery box on her mother’s dressing table.

She opened the box and sighed at the tune playing which she always sung along too and did so now.

“…and when you speak angels sing from above and every word seems to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be-”

She broke off at the twin bracelets in the box. She had given it her mother, when she was 13, in the morning for safekeeping because school wouldn’t allow it and forgot to get it back.

White gold chain bracelets with white gold hearts on them. She slid the bracelets on and underneath them, now out in the open from their absence were…pen drives. They had a gold geometric stick.

She giggled at how classy her mother is. Was. Her smile faded.

But what would her mother need to hide in a pen drive in her jewellery box of all places. Footsteps coming upstairs, she slipped the pen drives inside her pocket and closed the jewellery box.

Hands on her waist, lips skimming her neck.

“Clearing up, baby?”

She turned, “I was just about to start.”

“Oh really?” he looked around, “Who’s room was this?”

“My mom’s chambers, her second room.”

“Funny how she left everything for you. You must’ve been her favourite.”

“I was.”

They had countless arguments on this. Him defending Feyre and Elain, her standing her own ground. He was under the impression that Feyre was a villain in her story. She was. And Cassian wouldn’t accept that. He tried to justify Feyre’s actions. Nesta ended up not talking to him for 4 days, because on that topic she never argued for too long, just shut down.

This is why he didn’t push an argument today. She was trying to fix the bond between her sisters. But when the wound is fresh it doesn’t heal as quickly.

She was meeting them tomorrow. Ugh.

At least Cress would be there.

“My heads hurting I wanna go home.” He nodded and led her downstairs. As they got in the car Nesta felt like a hole was burning her pocket.

“Babe you ok?” He asked.

She nodded. Looking back onto the clear expanse of her childhood estate.

“You weren’t wearing those bracelets when we went in. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

She smiled, “I was getting in the car for high school and mum came out to give me my watch and she said, ‘Nesta jewellery isn’t allowed at school’ so I gave these for here to keep safe and forgot to take it back, she’s kept it safe for 11 years.”

He reached over and kissed her cheek. “They look amazing on you.”

-----

She clicked off her phone and tried to pull her brown mini skirt lower.

“Cresseida says she’s still on her flight from Manhattan. She should be here in a couple of hours.” Feyre and Elain both nodded, Elain stood.

“Want coffee?” Feyre nodded.

“Wait, Elain it’s my house I’ll-” Elain waved her off getting out three mugs. Nesta went and sat opposite Feyre.

“No need to make anything I have a stash of frappe’s in the fridge.”

Elain put the cups away and started picking out flavours.

Nesta took a deep breath.

“So I went to our old villa with Cassian yesterday…” Elain stopped her rattling of the bottles, Feyre sat up, “And I found these from mom’s old jewellery box.” She took out the pen drives.

“Cute. Have you seen what’s in them?” Feyre asked.

“No I thought I’d show you guys as well, just in case it’s a list of bad people.”

Feyre chuckled, “You watch Blacklist too much.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and got her projector out.

Elain came passing around the glass bottles she had topped with whipped cream and red straws.

Feyre gave Nesta a look.

“What? I brought this projector and literally haven’t used it since.”

She plugged it in.

A video started playing.

“Momma I can’t reach!”

A woman came into the shot, picking up the little girl in the middle of the orchid.

“It’s ok sweetie! Mama’s here.” She picked out the lemons and handed one.

A male voice from behind the camera said, “Nesta look at the camera darling!”

The woman turned showing her pregnant tummy and pointing the camera out to Nesta.

“Daddy I want to pick a lemon.”

The camera was passed onto to someone else and Randolph Archeron ran to Nesta taking her from his wife and placing her behind his head. Nesta picked a lemon and giggled showing it to her mother who was behind her. Adelaide took the lemon from her and went on her tip toes. Nesta leaning back to kiss her mother on the lips.

The video froze for a few seconds.

“Nesta what is-” Elain asked.

“It’s a home video, from when we were younger.”

Feyre glued her eyes back to the wall.

The video changed.

Nesta, Adelaide and Feyre were picking and posing with oranges. Elain holding the camera.

“Smile!!!!” her voice said.

Nesta dropped an orange.

“OMG Nesta!” Elain shrieked, “You’re ruing my shot!”

Nesta picked up the orange, “Ok geez.”

Feyre had started peeling the orange in her hand causing their mother to burst into laughter at Elain’s shriek.

Again another video slid in, a longer one this time.

“Come on Feyre!” Nesta shouted.

“Cominggg.” The camera started running towards Nesta and Elain.

“We were really cute,” Elain said.

Feyre nodded, “I can’t believe she kept these. Where even are we?”

“In Verona I think.” Nesta said.

They were wearing hats too big for their heads.

Elain stopped.

“Dad can I go with you I’m tired.”

Randolph chuckled from behind the camera and held out his hand.

“You were such a daddy’s girl,” Nesta said to Elain.

Elain swiped cream on Nesta’s cheek.

“Get Cassian to lick that off later.”

“Idiot.”

“Come on Fey,” Adelaide picked up Feyre and took Nesta’s hand.

She took their hats off, and held them.

They made their way through the tomato fields into the house. Nesta took the camera from Feyre and ran into the hall. She set the camera down on a counter and started dancing on her own.

“What are you doing Nes?” Adelaide came and picked Nesta up giving her a piggyback; Nesta giggled and clutched her tight.

“She loved you a lot,” Elain looked at Nesta, who was staring at the screen. She didn’t answer, unable to at the longing in Elain’s voice and in Feyre’s eyes. They had always been their father’s child; Nesta had always belonged to her mother. She had stayed with her mother till the end.

Little Nesta in the video said to her mother, “Where’s Feyre?!”

Her mother chuckled, “I don’t know sweetie.”

“Let’s find out, we shall go on a secret mission,” She took the camera off the counter and shoved in her mother’s hands,

“You hold the camera.”

“Oop, ok wait for me,” They ran through the house hiding next to the door look into the kitchen. Feyre had taken out an easel and had started painting.

“Honestly, she’s already started painting, Help me God,” Adelaide laughed at mini Nesta’s sass.

Nesta burst through the door, “Oh Feyre, whatcha doing?”

Feyre looked up and grabbed Nesta, “Good thing you’re here Nes, I needed someone to paint.”

Nesta flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder, “Of course.”

After a few minutes of Nesta fidgeting, Feyre screamed at her to "Sit still Nesta!!" But Nesta kept on looking over at what Elain was doing in the garden.

Adelaide sat down on the kitchen table, the camera jolting.

The video flicked to the next one.

Adelaide was walking up the stairs.

“We seem to have a messy situation downstairs. Proceeding with caution.” She flipped the camera hiding on the landing to show Randolph and his 3 daughters making cookies, Nesta as the first person to notice squealing,

“Momma!!” She ran into her arms smearing her with flour and icing.

“You smell like cookie dough!!!”

Their cookie making continued, throwing flour at each other.

The clip ended. Another one rolled.

“Welcome to our house tour at night.” Adelaide started.

Adelaide started walking through explaining the pictures on the wall.

“There’s me and the girls. Me and Nesta. Randolph with a very tired Nesta. Aw, look at my baby. Nesta with Oliver. Good god if he wasn’t like a brother to her then I would’ve predicted these two would’ve got married.” She laughed, “Well the guy who does get married to Nesta must be a really lucky man. There’s Feyre with her canvas look at her artist in the making. Elain with her flowers that she grew herself, my little gardener!” She moved along to some other picture her voice growing less fond, “Mine and Randolph’s wedding pictures, our anniversary. Lord knows where he is nowadays.” She went quiet, “Anyway let’s check on the little ones the nanny must have put them to sleep.”

She went into a big room, where Nesta was sleeping. The room was light and airy with fairy lights on the wall and Polaroid pictures.

“There’s my baby,” she caressed a hand down Nesta’s face pressing a kiss to her face. Nesta wriggled.

“Goodnight baby.”

She moved into another room, a pink one this time, “There’s baby Elain with her little elf doll.” Elain lay in a plush pink bed in the middle clutching onto a knitted elf doll. Her mother fixed her covers and pressed a kiss to her head.

The next room was covered in with plush toys, the walls covered with stuck on paintings she did at school and at home.

Feyre was still wearing her apron. Adelaide tutted, placing the camera on the desk and holding up a sleeping mini Feyre getting her out of the apron. She put her back to sleep and pulled the covers over her. Pressing a kiss to her forehead as well.

She looked at the camera.

“Can’t wait till they grow up. Hopefully they won’t turn out like me or Randolph. Oh Lord just let them be happy. Especially Nesta. I overheard her telling her teddy that “Daddy doesn’t love her,” I hope she finds someone who does. Who chooses her and keeps on choosing her every day. And this one-” she stroked Feyre, “she should get out from behind that easel every once in a while, just like how Elain needs someone who will be gentle with her as she is gentle with her flowers. I’ll probably show this video to my grandkids, embarrass their mums.” She laughed at the thought.

A door opened and shut.

“Randolph’s here. Let’s find out where he’s been. So bye future and old me and Nesta, Elain and Feyre. I love all of you.”

The video clicked off.

Nesta was toying with her ring. Tears slipping down her face as she knew it was slipping down Elain and Feyre’s. Her mum would have loved Cassian. Well, maybe not at first but…yes she really would have. She smiled at her sisters. Not being able to say anything.

-------

She had showed Cassian, obviously.

And he’d…well.

He was a fan of their mother.

And then she’d started crying,

“Baby, are you ok?”

“I miss her.”

“well couldn’t we get all those pictures she was talking about in the video and bring it here.”

She hadn’t thought of that, “But the house is in Verona.”

“Book tickets for us tomorrow so we can go the day after.”

She paused for a minute then squealed,

“Baby, baby!! You are the best.” She kissed him deeply.

She broke away smiling mischievously down at him.

“Can we take the yacht?”

She squealed again kissing him even deeper.

Tags: @skychild29 @my-fan-side

#nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #feyre #rhysand #cassian #nessian #elain #prythian #acotar #famfic #fanfic #sister #sister bonding

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