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jackblackhotelmirror · 3 months

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yours - an alastor fanfic (18+)

this is my first smut fic so please be patient lol... i wrote it for myself like last month but after seeing all the horny alastor girlies on my feed, i thought i'd share it here.

also i hate doing y/n fics so i just named the reader Lucretia since i was listening to sisters of mercy while writing it.

The night fell cool over Hell and devoured the bleeding city in darkness. I stood silently at my window, gazing out from the hotel and staring up at the sky, wondering who or what was above this devilish place. I don’t remember being alive.

There was a guttural groan from the streets, the sound of vehicles whipping in and out of the village center, but otherwise, silence. For a moment, I heard Angel lamenting in the hallway, but he slammed the door and piped down. I knew Charlie and Vaggie were asleep, and Angel would surely pass out on his bed in a moment’s time. As for me, I couldn’t sleep.

Knock.

What was that?

Knock.

From my door was a rapping sound. Someone was at my door… at this hour?

Removing myself from the window, I crept across the room. There were no peepholes in the wood, so opening the door at any point for anyone could cost your life. I hesitated. I debated asking for identification.

“Lucretia?”

The static. The subtle echo. The peppy tone. I recognized that voice.

I opened the door. Even in the dead of night, he was dressed in his velvet suit, sharp as a tack. “Hey, Alastor.”

Grinning, he stared me down. His hands were crossed behind his back, standing tall as a mountain, but his ears were sunken. His eyebrows furrowed– not in a manner of anger, but in a manner of suspicion.

“Hello, my dear! How are you this morning?”

“Alastor, it’s midnight.”

“Oh, how correct you are, dollface!”

His lips quivered as he stopped talking. We gazed into each other’s eyes, and I couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Had I forgotten to do something I promised? Were we engaged to go somewhere now? I had always been one to forget.

“Uh…” I didn’t break contact from the crimson rings in his eyes. “Can I help you with something?”

Snap.

The atmosphere had cracked. I watched his shoulders tense up. His eyes widened. His fur stood up on his neck. Nonetheless, he continued to grin. “May I step in?”

I gestured him into my room. He waltzed inside and immediately closed the door behind him. My heart began to skip beats. A chilled rush of fear rushed to the surface of my skin. My mind began racing– what could he want? To reprimand me? To recruit me into some villainous plan of his? To kill me? There was no reason for him to see me, let alone to lock us in my room together.

“What is this about?” I asked. I kept a watch on my tone– one wrong intonation and he would slit me from head to toe.

He looked off to the walls and walked past me, a blank stare draining his face. “I have a favor to ask of you!”

My heart pounded. “Is that so?”

“Yes, my dear!”

He turned to face me. This time, his ears were pined to the sides of his head. His arms hung at his side. His grin softened. His eyebrows fell away from each other, causing his eyes to sharpen. The Radio Demon looked pathetic, as if he were on the run from a hunter.

Softly, he said, “Do you know what happens to me once a month?”

I shook my head.

Once again, he turned his attention to the wall. His shoulders rounded. “Well… you see… oh dear, how embarrassing-” He tapped his foot on the floor. “Well, once a month, I begin to feel… how should I say it?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “You know how a woman feels during her… time of the month? Not the bleeding part, oh goodness no, but when she’s fertile?” The enunciation of his words hinted insecurity in what he was saying.

“You begin to feel… strong urges, correct? Well… animals have those urges too.” He glanced down at his tatted fur before looking me in the eyes. “I have an… animalistic nature in my form. So once a month, I begin to get… overly excited. Much against my will, I assure you.”

I blinked. “You’re horny?”

“Don’t say it like that! How obscene!” He smiled and laughed nervously; however, we both knew I was right. “Well, I would go to Angel with this but the Devil knows how long he’d poke fun at me for. Oh, I can see it now: all the eons he’d spend bringing it up in every conversation, how dreadful-”

“Just say it already,” I interrupted. The suspense was going to kill me.

He exhaled and looked to the floor. His smile faded. “I need to mate. If you can find someone that would be willing to… lend her services for me. Obviously I can’t go out looking for one in person– if news got out, it would be the end of my dignity! So if you can find someone who would let me… mate her, I would pay you back splendidly.”

I stood silent. I couldn’t believe what I just heard… Alastor, the Radio Demon, who despised anything to do with sex, was standing in front of me asking to find someone to mate. All those years I’d heard him wail about the unpleasantness of sex and how he’d rather die than give his body up for pleasure had unraveled.

“Can it be… anyone?” I asked.

“Anyone with lady bits, of course.”

I bite my lip. He watched his feet intensely, chewing his cheek, and nailed his ears onto his head even more. “Well… I could do it.”

He perked up. Looking at me, he asked, “Are you pulling my tail?”

I shook my head. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

He barred his teeth at me and his antlers thickened. “Don’t say it like that,” he said through gritted teeth. “This is not an act of delight. I despise it. If I could avoid it, I would. People only use words like ‘fucking’ if they enjoy it. I don’t. Not with you, not with anyone else. This is purely to stop myself from getting excited at random. You understand, babyface?”

I nodded.

Pivoting on his heel, Alastor walked to my bed and sat on the edge. He took off his boots to reveal blackened hooves before crawling into the center of my bed. “Now, my dear, what level of play are you expecting before the main course? You know, to get warmed up?”

I opened my mouth to comment on his weird use of words, but I bit my tongue. Sometimes I have to remind myself that he was a man of the ‘30s, and words like ‘foreplay’ weren’t in the encouraged vernacular. His substitutes will have to do.

“Erm, I suppose a bit.”

His eyes narrowed, tense. “What would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know… touch me?”

The truth was, I was already wet. I had fantasized about a moment like this with him. I’d touched myself to this very scene countless times. My cunt was throbbing just at the sight of him on my bed. I’d always been attracted to him, but never in a million years had I expected to experience this in real life.

I walked over to the bed, sat on the edge, and looked at him. He shifted so that his entire body was facing me. With a single claw, he gently ran it down the inside of my arm. “Like this?”

I smothered a giggle. “Not quite. Maybe touch my-” I caught myself. I couldn’t expect too much of him– I knew he didn’t want to do this to begin with, let alone the bells and whistles.

“Yes?” He tilted his head again.

I grabbed his hand and placed it on my collarbone. “Here.”

His eyes fell to my neck. A red claw traced the bone structure. He seemed mesmerized.

The claw trickled down my collarbone and down my cleavage. The tip of his finger drew over my nipples, drawing circles. A shiver rolled down my spine and I cooed. My nipples hardened under his touch, and I think he noticed. More than anything, he seemed interested in just touching me.

He took both hands and placed them on my ribs, sliding down my sides until he reached my hips. I could feel myself getting hotter, and my underwear began to feel slippery. I tried to breathe slowly.

“Could you take off your pants?” he asked.

I nodded. Scooting myself down onto my back, I slide my hands into the hems of my pants and guided them off– over my thighs, down my calves, off my ankles. He towered over me as he leaned in. Looking me up and down, he grinned. “You are a beauty.”

I smiled.

Before I knew it, he swung his leg over my hip and straddled me. Grabbing hold of my hands, he pinned me to the mattress. A look of authority shadowed his face as he raised his eyebrows, gripping my wrists. He pushed my thighs open with one of his legs and laid down on me. I could feel him hardening on my stomach. Taking a hand, he reached it down to my underwear and hovered over my entrance. Slowly, a finger skimmed the fabric of my underwear.

“You’re wet,” he said. He didn’t seem particularly emotional about it, but a twitch of his nose led me to believe he was smug about making me flood myself before we even started.

I wiggled myself out of his grasp and rolled my underwear off. As soon as I took my hands off my thighs, he took a claw and ever-so-gently dipped it into my entrance. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply as he traced around my vagina.

I felt him shift his weight off of me and he trailed down to my thighs. Looking up at me from between my legs, he looked me in the eyes as he leaned down and licked my clit. I moaned. His tongue circled my clit while his finger continued to trace the inside of me. He sucked at my lips for a moment, then lapped at my wetness.

Letting out a grunt, he got onto his knees and pulled down his pants. My eyes widened as he positioned himself above me and lined himself up with my body. “Are you ready?” he asked. I nodded.

With a swift thrust, he pushed himself into me. I whimpered– I hadn’t had sex in a while, and my body was not prepared for it, but the short pain subsided and gave way to a new sensation: pure bliss. He stretched me out as he moved into me with no particular rhythm. He stared at the pillow, not at me, but that was ok: it’s what he needed to do.

I didn’t expect it but he took his finger again and slid it between us so that he could rub my clit. I moaned. “Oh my god…”

“Is that ok?” he asked.

I nodded. I grabbed the back of his neck and he grabbed my thigh, pushing it towards the walls so that I could be wider. Over time, he fell into a rhythm, one that was a bit rough but hesitant. His eyes were screwed shut, and I knew he was trying to take himself out of the moment. For whatever reason, I leaned towards him and kissed his neck. I bit at his ear before he flinched, and I stopped.

Although he wasn’t looking at me, and although he didn’t quite know what he was doing, I thought he looked beautiful. He pushed deeper into me with every thrust and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes into the back of my head. His dick was fleshy and rubbed against my clit gently, teasing me. He continued to thrust into me before I began to feel a rush of heat roll over my body. Opening his eyes, he said, “You’re dripping wet, sugartits.”

His cock began to pulsate as he went harder and deeper into me. It sped up with every hump, and I could tell both of us were about to come. His nails dug into the small of my back as he leveraged himself to push deeper and deeper into me. The whites of his eyes flashed as he began to moan. “Lucretia… oh my…”

“Fuck me, Alastor.” I didn’t care that he didn’t want to fuck– I wanted to convince him to.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me closer to him as he started to come. He pressed his lips into my neck and whispered, “Good girl. Good girl.”

Our bodies were on fire. I began to scream his name but he covered my mouth with his hand, begging me not to draw attention. He murmured my name into my ear before kissing me deeply. With a final thrust, he slipped a finger into my mouth and whispered, “Oh sweetheart, that was marvelous.” For the first time since he stepped in the door, his smile came back.

He nuzzled his nose into the crook of my neck and let out a sigh before pushing up and out of me. I laid there, shaken, in the bed. I watched as he rolled his pants up his legs, fastened his belt, and pulled on his top.

He turned to look at me. “Thank you, doll.”

I sat up. “Was it any good?”

He froze. Then, after walking over to where I was laying, he placed a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and drew a claw across my collarbone. “Well, it was good enough to call you mine forever."

#it's cheesy ik #i tried lol #also i can see the al ace warriors calling ace-erasure on this already and you can kindly scroll past if you're going to say that #alastor #hazbin hotel

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tosxah · 10 hours

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&&. | @nagareboshiko

Happily Childe made his way to the closed off room with the woman, probably the prettiest woman in the place. Well well, wasn't he just the luckiest man at the joint? The place smelled of expensive perfumes, couches lined with lavish fabrics and fat people with more money in their wallets than sense. The interior design was pretty, but not as much as the women and men that worked inside it. She must have noticed the looks she was being given, there was no way she wouldn't, most of the customers weren't trying to hide their leering gaze.

He didn't fight the gentle force of her hand on his chest as he let himself fall back into a fancy looking velvet black armchair that stood out again the red of all the rest of the decor. Blue eyes followed her movements as she strode to the music player, looking over her curvy figure, the way the fabric hugged everything just right. But beyond his own perversions, there was a reason for his observing eyes; Lumine wasn't one to be underestimated. Though it could be mistaken for caution, it was more like intrigue.

The smile on his lips never faded, at times it changed but his attitude stayed the same, like when she removed the pin from her hair, or when her touch lingered methodically, or when she steps between his open legs and reaches under her skirt and pulls out a gun, he'd be lying if he didnt admit that just the click of it in her hand stirred his excitement.

He observed patiently and willingly, eyes on areas of her body for just a moment too long. Deep blue eyes met golden ones, spotlights of warm honey in the dim of the room. From the distance he could smell her perfume, sweet and enticing, infact he could practically feel her warmth. The bullets rained on his leg, falling to the ground with muted thuds on the carpet. Childe would be lying if he said she didn't make it hard to focus, man or woman, anyone being touched like that by someone like her would have trouble thinking of anything but the way her fingers messaged his thigh, the way he really could just play customer for the night and how he'd enjoy nothing more that to throw her around like she weighed nothing. But instead he kept his gaze level, refusing to let his little personal wants overcome what he came to do.

Childe chuckled, he reached up tentatively, cupping her cheek and gracing her skin with his gloved hand, line of sight following his fingers over her porcelain skin, down her neck, her decolletage, stopping just before the bulge of her breasts (as much as he'd love to go further, he wasnt about to do anything his mama wouldnt approve of). "So tense, Girly." He glanced back up at her, a cunning smile on his lips, their faces just a bit closer than they were before, practially in kissing distance. He kept his gaze fixed completely on those intoxicating hues now, hand ghosting near her breasts but not touching only to find her warm clothed tummy. The dark fabric that hugged her figure so perfectly moved with his gentle touch, sliding his hand down her stomach, over the dip of where her thigh and tummy met, down the short length of her skirt, then between her legs and there he found weapon number two.

He hummed lowly, lips a breath apart from hers, "you really must be happy to see me." Childe slipped the small butterfly knife out from between her soft, supple thighs with his overly flirtacious tone and sat back in his seat allowing for a bit of space between them, playing with it between his fingers like a toy as it clicked open and closed. "As tempting as your offer is, youve only got a little bit of fabric covering you, so wheres the challenge? You should know me better than that by now, aquantence." He dropped the flirting persona for more of his typical self confidence.

Humming in thought, eyes cast off somehwere, he pressed the cool blade against his lips "what if," he flicked the blade closed, meeting her golden gaze, "you guess who I'm here to kill and if you're right, I won't. You have one guess but" He flicked the knife open again, pointing it in her direction gesturally as he spoke "you can have a second if you forfeit your dress. How's that sound? Or even better if you're so eager to take off your clothes, you can do it anyways, I won't mind."

#nagareboshiko #assassin/spy au #i found this look

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oikadori · 3 years

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First off i really like your work thank you so much for making them, stay safe. And stay hydrated... This is my first time requesting. Ummmm can you please do osamu, sakusa and kenma. Like after the timeskip and the wife is on vacations and they were the one who take cares of the kids for the time being and they leave the lil demon for a moment and he/she destroyed the whole house and their wife is coming home any moment. I wanna know what their reaction and action will be. Thank you.

REACTING TO THEIR CHILD MAKING A MESS OF THEIR HOME WHILE YOU ARE AWAY

⇢ includes: osamu, sakusa , kenma,

⇢ genre // warnings: fluff , f!reader // swears, dad!sakusa gets kinda mad but then all is good.

⇢ wc~ 0,9K

a/n: this is so sweet ?? pleasee thank you for requesting nonnie !!hope u like these. special thanks to @hvnlydmn who helped me figure out how i wanted to do these! ILY AINS <33 kithes

reblogs are highly appreciated :)

“Daddy!!”

Two pairs of big grey eyes peak from the couch in Osamu’s direction. His sleepy eyes adjusting to the light, unwrapping the chaos his living room has turned into.

Your twins are sitting comfortably on the couch, both of their mouths full of candies and their faces painted with red jelly, the same jelly that is now on the kitchen floor. Snacks are smeared all over the place and the couch is full of crumbs, but the little kids are wearing happy smiles.

“Daddy just went to sleep for fifteen minutes ‘cause he was tired and this is how you are gonna greet mommy when she’s back?”

Osamu’s tone is rather playful than harsh, he doesn’t have the heart to put on his serious face when your kids are smiling at him with those puffy cheeks. He breathes heavily, walking towards them, stopping right in front of the TV to catch their attention.

“So, which one of ya is gonna help me clean this?”, he crosses his arms over his beefy chest as the little girl and the little boy blink at his words.

“He!” “She!”

They point at the other, looking up at your husband, who’s lips curve into a smile, the scene feeling familiar to him bringing back a piece of his childhood with Atsumu.

“Right…” a deep chuckle leaves his throat as he kneels between them, taking a napkin out, “But first I’ll have to get ya both clean”

He grabs your daughter’s cheek, earning a girly giggle out of her when he whipped away the jelly from her chin. Osamu freezes, feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket.

I’ll be there in 5!!! Love you !

He reads the message in slow motion as his son drops some more candies onto the floor and his daughter puts more sweets into her mouth. Osamu locks eyes with the two kids, fear printed in his face.

“Yer mom is gonna kill me”

“What…What happened?”

Sakusa says, almost dropping the towel he was using to dry off his dark, wet curls as he stares at the scene in front of him. The walls of the hall are covered with lines and figures and your daughter is standing proud next to it.

“LOOK, DADDY!“. The little girl points with her chubby fingers at the walls showing off her artistic skills to her dad but Sakusa’s face is pale. He moves towards her with his brows furrowed, her smile slowly fading.

“Y-you didn’t like it?”

“It’s not that… but good kids don’t draw on the walls while their dads are taking a shower!”, he points at the drawings, noticing her daughter’s dress stained with yellow, “―and you’ve ruined your dress!”

He doesn’t notice the harshness in his voice until he hears a little sniffle. Sakusa blinks, founding a big pout taking over his daughter’s face, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“I-I just wanted to give mommy a surprise”

She looks at the floor, playing with her fingers and Sakusa’s heart drops to the ground. His eyes soften instantly and he bends down, caressing the top of her head and holding her small hand in his.

“ Hey, I’m sorry love, daddy it’s just a bit tired and he misses mommy too” He thumbs her daughter’s cheek before tracing the yellow spot on her dress with his fingers “let’s change you into some clean clothes, okay angel?”

Your daughter nods eagerly, putting a grin on Sakusa’s lips.

“That’s my perfect girl!” Your daughter smiles again as he picks her up easily from the floor, kissing her cheek in his way to her room but the click the key makes with the door causes both of them to still, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“ it's mom!” she yells with the biggest smile on her face, stealing a chuckle from the spiker.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see her too.”

“Sorry, I’ll be back in 5. I have to check upon a little something of mine”

Kenma says with a soft grin before taking off his headsets and stopping his stream. He heads to his son’s room when a loud thud makes him freeze in the spot. He trips in his way to the living room, finding your big, flat screen Tv laying on the floor.

“shit“ he curses under his breath, his cat-like eyes widening as he spots his kid standing with an innocent face next to the TV.

“Mmh, I guess this is the part where I scold you….” Kenma hides his hands in his pockets, thinking about his next words. Your son moves towards him, stopping right in front of him to hold his hoodie, pulling the fabric to catch his attention.

“Can you play with me now, daddy?” Kenma’s amber eyes widen and his lips curl into a grin.

“So, you destroyed the living room to call daddy’s attention?”, your child nods, embarrassed, and Kenma tilts his head.

“I’m sorry daddy”

“I guess―if you know it was wrong, we are all good, bubs” Kenma whispers, patting his head and hugging him lightly, “but you mommy isn’t as cool as your daddy”

He grins devilish at his son when a familiar ringtone fills the room. Your son quickly unwraps your husband’s waist to pick up his tablet, a picture of you popping on the screen

Your son looks at his dad in fear and Kenma ruffles his dark hair with calm eyes before grabbing the device to answer the call. He giggles at the way your eyes seem to fall from your face when you catch a glimpse of your living room.

“Kenma…What―”

He takes out his wallet, sighing softly before giving you a cocky grin from across the screen.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you a new living room.”

TO JOIN MY TAGLIST, FILL THE FORM HERE ♡

TAGLIST : @sazunari @hajiswife @oikadiors @arrogantsonofabiscuit @wak4tosh1 @asteroid-babe @kenmaki @kouffee-ink @mjoork @tobiosbbyghorl @evelynn27 @akkeyomi @devilgirlcrybabiey @ilovecheese08 @realityisabitch-blr @itsmeaudrieee

#osamu x reader #sakusa x reader #hqradiostation #osamu x you #osamu scenario #miya osamu x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kozume kenma x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #kenma scenario

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clouds-rambles · 3 years

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Amnesia Anon. First of: Congrats to having survived 1 year of university! Feel hugged and cuddled from me. Second: I request headcanons for Klee, Diona and Qiqi with a Reader who plays older sibling for all of them. Just something cute, how days out would look like and their opinion on the Reader, if that's okay.

dsjhfadjkh THEY ARE MY BABIES I LOVE THEM

ahem, yes of course amnesia anon

putting them together and then putting seperate opinions at the bottom

Pairings; (Platonic) Klee, Diona, Qiqi x reader

Warning(s);

Keep reading under the cut!

Seeing your favourite girlies whenever you can always makes you grin from ear to ear

Whenever they seek you out about town just to ask you for some help hunting, or collecting herbs it always makes you want to coo at them

The three are always happy to hang out together and with you. Klee enjoys antagonising Diona and Diona likes poking Klee and freezing her. Qiqi prefers to keep to herself, most often she's holding your hand, but whenever she gets her sighs on a herb she'll run up and grab it

Both the girls and you like to cook after a long day of playing about outside. You all wear smiles and cook the dish of the evening that one of the girls picked out

Though seperately;

Qiqi likes to spend quiet days with you, even if it just involves you chatting happily while she mans the desk at Bubu Pharmacy.

At the end of the day Qiqi likes resting her head on your lap and happily falling asleep

Usually both you and Diona go out hunting when you see her. And those days always end with a cheeky meal at the Good Hunter because of how tired the both of you get. Though over the food Diona will share her extensive plans of taking over the wine industry

At the end of the day you'll likely be led down reading a book while Diona happily curls up on your back

Bombfishing with Klee brings back old memories of doing something similar as a kid and the two of you always come back with too many fish for jus tone meal. Albedo has to regulate when you go bombfishing with Klee, because if it were up to you and Klee you'd be out there exterminating the entirity of Dragonspines fish population

When you're walking back up to the Dragonspine lab you often carry Klees bagpack on your back and her napping happily in your arms.

Qiqi finds it hard to remember everything about you. But she knows the warm feeling in her chest everytime she sees you is a good feeling. She prefers to be perched on your shoulders and running about Liyue compared to doing herself.

She writes about you a lot in her notebook but often finds herself not reading about you often. She really enjoys hearing stories about you again anyways. And if she's feeling a little sad without you about? She'll just look over her notebook them

Diona thinks a lot of you. She probably would never admit it aloud but she idolises you a lot. She admires your work ethic and the love that you hold for her.

Diona seeks you out whenever you're in town a grin on her face. Sometimes she'll tell you about the strange cocktail she made the previous evening and you'll just blink at her and ask how the patron is even still alive

Klee loves the days that you look after her. She always gets away with things that not even Albedo lets her get away with. You get to be the cool sibling compared to the 'strict' Albedo.

Klee also looks up to you a lot, she genuinely sees you as a member of her family. She looks up to you the same way she does Albedo, and she's very proud to call you her sibling

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #platonic #sibling reader #genshin impact klee #genshin impact qiqi #genshin impact diona #klee #qiqi #diona

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

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Seasons of Med: Season 4 and Seasons of PD: Season 6: Of Loss and Letters (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 4x02.

Y/N's age: 17

Jay's age: 31

Will's age: 33

You sat in your English 11 class and wrote and wrote an essay for your test. Your hand was starting to cramp. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone's phone light up from the phone caddy.

Yes, that's right. Your high school now had a phone caddy where students had to put their phones every class. Each student was assigned a number and then that's where they put their phone during that hour. Some teachers didn't care and let you keep it on you, but some did.

Your phone lit up again. You so desperately wanted to look at your watch that was connected to your phone, but you knew that doing so would look like you were cheating, so you decided against it. And, you turned your attention back to your test.

It lit up again and this time your teacher had had enough and stood up to grab your phone.

"Sorry to interrupt your tests," she started, "but how many times do I have to tell you guys to put your phones away with the screen facing the whiteboard. That way it's not dis--" She sucked in a breath as a text came across your screen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one word: hospital. And, this caused her to read the text. "Y/N, please come with me."

You stood up, utterly confused, and then left the room.

"Firstly, let me say I didn't try to read your texts. I just saw it out of the corner of my eye and...it's important."

You believed this teacher. She was young, pretty fresh out of college, and one time when you came in for a review session, she made all of you guys brownies to snack on while you worked.

She handed you your phone. It was a text from Jay.

Dad's in the hospital.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was it something with his heart? Had he started drinking again?

"Can I--"

"You can go, Y/N. I'll call the office and have someone bring your books down there after class so you can pick them up there when you come to school later. Drive safe."

"Thank you."

You practically sprinted down the hallway and to your locker as another text came in from Jay.

If you don't answer in the next ten minutes, I'm calling school to get you out.

You finished shoving stuff into your backpack and then started on your way to the office. You went to sign out when one of the secretaries stopped you.

"I've got it, hun. You just take care of yourself." Your teacher must've called down.

"Thank you," you choked out and then left the building, dialing Jay's number as you walked.

"Jay!" you exclaimed when he picked up on the first ring. "What happened to Dad? I was taking a test and then my phone started blowing up. Is he okay?"

"Y/N, there was a fire at his apartment. He's in the ED at Med. Will will fill you in more when you get here." You could tell by the tone of his voice that it wasn't good.

"Jay, you can't just tell me that! There's gotta be more!"

"Y/N, you're about to drive. You'll be at Med in twenty minutes. I don't need you to get in a car accident. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"Please." You got in your car and then turned your phone on speaker and started your car. "Can you tell me stories on my way there?" you asked Jay. "I need something else to focus on."

"Focus on the road."

"I mean listen to. I need something else to listen to."

"What kind of stories?" he asked.

"Can you tell me how Mom and Dad met?"

"You know how they met: it was at a White Sox game. Dad saw Mom stand up to buy some popcorn and said he fell in love with her at first sight. He must not have been a pain in the ass then. And, his favorite pastime probably wasn't yelling at people like it is now. Probably smiled more, too."

"Technically, he doesn't yell at me," you said. "Except when he was drunk before you started taking care of me and he finished the twelve steps."

"Oh, right. I forgot. I'm his favorite person to yell at," Jay said sarcastically. "He wasn't always an ass, though. He was actually excited to have a daughter at first. And then, his asshole buddies in construction changed his mind and made him think that women weren't his equals."

"Dicks," you muttered. "What did you and Will do when you found out that Mom was going to have me? Were you mad you weren't going to be the youngest anymore?"

"Nah, I was happy I'd have someone to pick on like Will picked on me."

"Hey!"

"Obviously I didn't follow through with that line of reasoning," he laughed. "Mom was telling us how we'd have to play tea parties with you and all that girly stuff. Me and Will obviously weren't too thrilled about that."

"Well, you're lucky I'm not a girly-girl then and didn't really play tea parties."

"That's because I taught you how to kick a soccer ball the minute you could walk. Shocked you didn't play that in middle school and now in high school," he added.

"I'm not competitive enough for that."

"Oh, believe me, we know. That's why you didn't play goalie: because one game you were goalie, you just sat down in the goal and started playing with the grass."

"Goalie was boring. And, you don't get a break; you don't get to sub-in. My favorite part of kiddie soccer was the snacks and juice boxes at the end."

"Don't forget those few times you scored goals during the games," Jay pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess that part was kinda fun."

"See? You had fun."

"Not really. But, I'm pulling into Med now. I'll gonna park and then I'll be in the ED."

"Okay, make sure you remember where you parked."

"Don't worry, I will."

You parked and then made your way into the ED waiting room.

"Miss, I'm going to need you to take a seat and wait to be seen," a nurse you didn't recognize said.

"Oh, no," you started. "I'm not hurt. It's my dad. He was in the fire and my brother called." You looked down at your feet, finally realizing the gravity of the situation. "My brother called and said he's in the ED. Um, one of my brothers is Dr. Will Halstead."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Go right on in." She gave you a sympathetic look.

"Thank you."

You hustled into the ED and looked for Maggie or one of your brothers. You spotted Maggie first.

"Maggie where's--"

"Your dad's in Treatment One." She pointed you in the direction of the room and you made your way over there.

You entered the room at the same time as Dr. Rhodes. "You guys wanna fill her in?"

"What's going on?" you asked, worry evident in your voice.

Your dad started coughing and spit some bile into a bin, causing you to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"Dad tried to play hero," Jay started to explain, "He forgot he was in his 60s with a bum ticker."

"Yeah, well, this is your fault to begin with," Pat Halstead said.

"Me?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, you stuck me in that fire trap."

"Please, can you two just not fight for once?" you complained.

"Pop, stop talking," Will urged.

Dr. Rhodes started doing an EKG and then ordered some tests, finally shutting your dad up...and saving you from another argument between Jay and your dad. Then, after he was done, he got called out to consult for Dr. Choi.

"I don't need all this," your dad complained once Dr. Rhodes had left the room.

"Calm down," Jay told him rudely. "You're getting yourself all worked up."

"What do you know? You're no doctor."

"Dad," you said.

"You had no right to sell my house!"

"You wanna talk about this again?" Jay practically yelled. "It was a wreck. You couldn't take care of the place."

"You just wanted my money!"

"Hey!" Will yelled, but it didn't stop the two...nothing ever did.

"You don't have any money you thankless old prick!" Jay yelled and then started to walk out.

"Jay!" Will yelled as you started to follow him out, hoping to calm him down. "Y/N, stay here," Will told you.

"Why?"

"I know you're gonna try to calm him down, but he needs to cool off by himself right now."

You huffed. "Fine." You turned back to your dad. "I don't think he really meant it. He was mad. Both of you say things you don't mean when you're angry. You two are a lot alike that way. Like when you said he wasn't a son of yours."

"Yeah, you should apologize for that one," Will agreed.

"Not until he apologizes for what he just said to me. Only then will I--"

Alarms started sounding and lights starting flashing. Will hit a button on the wall and two nurses rushed in.

"Will, what's happening?" you screamed. "What's happening to Dad?"

Will lowered the bed and then put his fingers to your dad's neck. "No pulse. Bag him."

"Wait, he's your dad," a nurse, who you recognized as Monique, said. "Shouldn't another doctor run the code?"

"You got one handy?" Will asked as he started chest compressions.

"Will, what's happening?" Jay asked as he re-entered the room.

"Jay, I need you to take Y/N out of here. Now."

"No, I wanna stay. What's going on?"

"Jay, now," Will stated again.

Jay placed on hand on your back. "Y/N, c'mon."

The alarms were still sounding, the lights still flashing.

"No!" you yelled.

"Y/N, I need room in here," Will told you. "The best thing you can do for Dad is to leave this room."

"No! I wanna stay!" you yelled again.

Jay looked at Will and he nodded. Then, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground by Jay.

"Put me down! Put me down!" You started kicking and swinging your arms, but he didn't budge. "Let me go back in there!"

Once safely out of the room--and having drawn the attention of most people in the ED--did Jay finally put you down. You tried to run back towards the treatment room, but Jay scooped you back up.

"Nope. We're going outside," Jay told you.

"Fine. But, once we're out there, I'm not walking with you."

You crossed your arms in frustration. After that little stunt he pulled back there, there was nothing he could say that made you want to be around him.

"That's fine. Just keep your phone on you."

***

As you kept walking down the sidewalk to the right--Jay had went left as soon as you walked outside because you didn't want to be around him--you spotted none other than Kelly Severide sitting on a bench, looking like he was currently throwing himself a pity party.

"Hey," you said as you walked up to him.

"Y/N? what are you doing out here?" he asked as he looked up.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, have a seat. You look like you've been crying."

"So do you," you pointed out.

"Stella's in the ED," he admitted. "She had a nasty inhalation injury. They uh, they might not be able to save her lung...which means she wouldn't be able to be a firefighter anymore." He looked back down.

"I'm sorry, Kelly. But, Stella's a fighter."

"Yeah, I know. She left home when she was eighteen and she didn't have the best home life before that either."

"She told me."

"She told you?" he asked, looking back up at you.

"Yeah, when she helped me get ready for homecoming, she told me that she gets it. She gets what it's like not having a mom to help you get ready for dances."

"Dude, we have a problem," Will said through the phone to Jay.

"Which is...?" Jay asked.

"Nat got called in. We don't have anyone to help Y/N get ready for the dance."

"Shit," Jay cursed. "Yeah, that really is a problem. Let me make some calls."

Jay hung up the phone with Will and then scrolled through his contacts. He thought about asking Hailey, but he wasn't super close with her yet, so she was off the table.

Then it hit him: Stella.

But he didn't have her number.

But he had Kelly's.

"Please don't be on shift, please don't be on shift," he muttered as the line started ringing.

"Hey, Halstead," Kelly answered.

"Hey, man. Listen, I've got a huge favor to ask you. Well, actually, it's more you asking Stella for the favor."

"What do you want me to ask her? She's right here."

"Well, it's Y/N's homecoming dance tonight and Nat was gonna come over and help her get ready and she got called into work. I was wondering if maybe Stella could come over and help Y/N out."

"Okay, I'll ask her."

He heard mumbling which he guessed was Kelly talking to Stella. "I'm gonna put her on," Kelly said after a minute.

"Okay."

"Hey, Jay," Stella said into Kelly's phone.

"Hey, Stella. Kelly explain everything to you?" Jay asked.

"He did. I'll be over there in an hour. Unless you need me sooner, then I can make it half an hour."

"An hour works great. Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver, really."

***

Jay had left to run to the store and had told you that Stella would be there in an hour. So, when someone knocked on your apartment door twenty minutes later, you were utterly confused.

You got up from the couch and looked through the peephole in your apartment door, seeing none other than frick and frack...otherwise known as Adam and Kevin.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked as you opened the door. "If you're looking for Jay, he went out to run some errands."

"No, we're actually here to see you," Kevin said.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Adam confirmed. "Aren't you supposed to be in a dress or something?"

"I'll put it on after Stella dose my hair," you told them. "Sorry, c'mon in."

The two entered the apartment, but you were still confused as to why they were here, and why they were here for you and not your brother.

"I guess we can teach her like this," Adam said.

"Might be better, too," Kevin started. "That way she won't rip her dress when we're first teaching her."

"Uh, excuse me. Right here, guys. What are you planning on teaching me?" you asked, annoyed that they were talking about you like you weren't even there.

"We are here, little Y/N, to teach you how to fight," Adam answered.

"First of all, don't ever call me little Y/N again. Second of all, no you're not. What's the real reason you're here?"

"That's it," Adam laughed.

You raised an eyebrow, so Kevin decided that he needed to clarify. "It's just for self-defense. Just in case a horny teenage boy comes up to you and starts grinding on you at the dance, so you'll know what to do."

You were still skeptical about this, but they did have a good point. You had to give them that.

"Okay, so what do I do? And, did Jay put you two up to this?" you asked.

"He didn't," Adam answered. "We came of our own free will. First thing you need to know about throwing a punch is doing it with a closed fist." You closed your fist. "Perfect. Now, when you throw the punch, make sure your arm is locked out."

You did as he said and your punch was a little flimsy, but you worked on it.

***

"Is this the right color you think? I tried my best," Jay said as he met Stella in the elevator on their way up to his apartment. He pulled out a sparkly black bottle of nail polish. Stella had asked if your nails were done, and when he said no, she asked if he could pick up some nail polish while she packed up all her hair stuff and makeup to help you get ready. He had reluctantly agreed. By looking at the picture of your dress he had on his phone--it was a two-piece dress where the skirt portion was long enough that it covered your belly. The skirt was white with a floral design and the top was black with sequins--and used that to figure out what color nail polish to pick. Stella told him to keep it simple, so he just picked up a black bottle with some sparkles.

"Perfect!" Stella exclaimed as she looked at the color.

They got off the elevator and then walked to your and Jay's apartment. When Jay opened the door, he was met with one of the weirdest sights he had seen in his life: Adam was rolling around on the floor in what looked to be pain and you were jumping up and down and celebrating and then giving Kevin a high five.

"What happened here?" Jay asked.

"Oh, hey bro," Kevin said.

"Hey, Jay," Adam gritted out from his spot on the floor.

"We were teaching Y/N self-defense in case someone grinds on her at the dance," Kevin supplied. "And, we got to the kneeing part."

"So, she kneed him where the sun don't shine?" Jay laughed.

"Yeah," Kevin confirmed.

"Good job, Y/N. Adam, I'll get you ice and a beer. Kev, you want one?" Kevin nodded and Jay handed the small bag containing the nail polish to Stella.

"So, here's the deal," Stella started. "Natalie got called into work, so you're stuck with me helping you get ready. I've got some nail polish that your brother so generously went out and picked up for you, a straightener, a curling iron, tons of bobby pins and little hair ties, and tons of makeup. Just tell me what you want and we'll get the ball rolling."

You helped Adam up off the ground and then started towards your room, Stella following close behind.

***

"You know, I never had a mom to help me with this kind of stuff either," Stella confessed as she was twisting your hair.

"You didn't?" you asked. "Who helped you?"

"My mom was in and out of my life in high school, so usually one of the nice neighbor ladies helped me with my hair. The makeup was all me."

"So, you know how it is. I feel like it's harder for me than for Will and Jay because they both had Mom for over twenty years. I only had her for nine."

"Well, if you ever wanna talk about girl stuff, I'm your girl. Now, anyone special you wanna dance with? Or are meeting him at the dance?" Stella asked.

"Well, there is someone." You blushed.

"Girl," she dropped your hair. "You can't just leave me hanging like that. Who is it?"

"His name's Caleb. He's really good friends with my friend, Andrea." Stella knew who this was. She knew that you had saved her life during the shooting half a year ago. "He's really cute. Tall, Brown hair. Blue eyes. One of the star players on the football team," you told her wistfully.

"Ooh, you got it bad," Stella laughed.

"I got what bad?"

"Your crush on this Caleb kid. You are crushing on him so hard, Y/N. Can't say I blame you. The popular kid is always the way to go...as long as he's not a douche."

"He's actually not. He's actually really nice."

"Well, does Caleb have a date to the dance?" Stella asked.

You sighed. "He does. Her name's Sasha and she's a total bitch. Excuse my French."

"Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: sooner or later, the dude sees his girl's true colors."

"I, uh, I thought about asking him to dance. I remember Jay saying when I was like four and he was going to his senior prom, that if he wasn't dating Allie and a girl asked him to dance, that he'd dance with her because it takes guts to ask someone to dance. But, since Caleb's got a date, that probably won't happen."

"Hey, if he's dancing solo and a slow song comes on, you gotta ask him to dance. Shoot your shot, girl."

"You're right. I'm gonna ask him to dance. I will ask Caleb to dance."

"That's the spirit! Now, we gotta get you looking extra hot so he falls in love with you when he's staring into your eyes while you two are slow dancing the night away."

You laughed and Stella returned to your hair.

***

Later that night, a slow song came on and Sasha was nowhere to be seen with Caleb. But, he was on the dance floor, near the back wall, all by himself. So, you asked him to dance. He said yes, and after, he even gave you a hug. Best dance of your high school career so far.

After you texted Andrea to tell her that you danced with Caleb because you had no idea where she was, the next person you texted was Stella. You knew she'd be hella excited for you.

You crushed on Caleb for a few months after that. But, then he got a new girlfriend and ended up cheating on her with not one, but two different girls. Needless to say, your crush on him died the second you found out this information.

"She loves you, you know," you said to Kelly.

"She told you this?" he asked.

"She didn't have to. Every time Stella sees you, or even when she talks to you, her face lights up."

"She's good for me. That's for sure."

You paused. You knew Kelly didn't have the best relationship with his dad and neither did Jay, Will, or even you. You also knew his dad had died a few months ago, around October and it was currently February. "Did you ever get mad at yourself?" you asked.

"About what?"

"When your dad died. You knew he wasn't the best person, but you were still sad."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I don't understand where you're going with this," Kelly apologized.

"I know my dad wasn't the best person, hell he was neglectful and unfit to be a parent, still is. So, why do me and my brothers still see him? Why do I still feel sad and scared that he might die?" you asked. You knew this was something you should be asking your school counselor--you had started seeing her a lot this past year because of the shooting--but Kelly was here now. And, maybe he'd understand because he didn't have a very good dad either.

"It's because you remember how he used to be," Kelly said. "You, Jay, and Will all remember when he was a better person. When Benny died, I didn't feel like I was grieving current Benny. I was more grieving for the Benny I knew when I was five years old when he was a good dad. And, I never gave up hope that he'd become a better father as I grew up. When he died, I knew it would never happen. You're grieving the dad you used to know and the hope you might lose of him becoming a better man."

You nodded because you really had no idea what to say. You thought Kelly was right; maybe that was the reason why you were sad and fearful about the possibility of your dad dying. You two sat in silence after that, finding comfort in each other's presence, each hoping for the best, but trying to prepare yourself for the worst.

***

You walked into the ED, to be met with Jay storming out and Will quickly following after him. You ran after them.

When they finally stopped, you made your presence known. "Okay, someone wanna tell me what the hell's going on?"

"Dad's brain dead and Will, Will doesn't want a second opinion and just wants to let Dad die," Jay spat.

"A- Are you sure he's brain dead? Maybe you read it wrong?" you asked. There had to have been some kind of mistake. Your dad couldn't be brain dead; he couldn't be a vegetable.

"Y/N, I know this is a lot of information to take in, but the EEG, the thing that reads brain waves, showed that Dad's brain dead. Dr. Abrams read it and he's our top neurosurgeon."

"I still want a second opinion," Jay restated.

"Abrams is our top neurosurgeon, Jay. The opinion doesn't get any better than that," Will told him.

Jay scoffed. "So all your degrees, all that money, all those years in school, this is the best you can do?"

"Jay, Dad almost died two years ago. He's been living on borrowed time."

"Abrams didn't say Dad had no chance!" Jay protested.

"One thousand to one is no chance."

"So you just want to give up?" Jay clenched his fists at his side.

"I've seen a lot of patients in his condition--"

"There goes that doctor voice."

"I'm sorry, but I am a doctor," Will retorted.

Jay scoffed. "Yeah, we got that message. And Dad knew you thought you were better than us. We always came in second. Hell, Y/N came in second because you were away at med school! Who was looking after her when Mom was dying? Me and Dad. Who took her in because Dad's a shitty parent? Me. You weren't there, and now you wanna decide what happens to Dad?" He stepped closer to Will.

Will took a step closer to Jay as well. "You know that's not true, Jay."

"Yes, it is!"

Will opened his mouth and started to say something, but you weren't listening, you were too busy stepping between your brothers because you sensed a fight about to break out.

"Enough!" you yelled. Both Will and Jay looked down at you, shocked at your outburst. "Dad's fucking dying in there and you're fighting about old shit! Don't you see that it doesn't matter? Do you really want to spend your last moments with Dad fighting? Because I sure as hell don't."

Then, you moved away from them and made your way to the bathroom before you started bawling. You really didn't want to do that in front of the other people milling around the hospital.

Jay sighed and put his hands behind his head as he watched you walk off towards the bathroom.

"I never thought I'd say this," Will started, "but she's right. We can't be fighting right now."

"Yeah, I guess we shouldn't be doing that," Jay said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"Guess me and Dad really are alike. Stubborn and quick to yell things we don't mean."

"I'm pretty sure all of us got the stubborn gene, even Y/N."

Then, The COO of the hospital, who Will introduced as Ms. Garrett walked up to them and told them that they had the full support and all the resources that the hospital had available to help their dad. This didn't seem like her at all, so Will excused himself to go talk to Ms. Goodwin. And, Jay figured this was as good a time as any to see how you were doing, as he hadn't seen you leave the bathroom yet.

***

Jay popped his head into the bathroom and since he only saw one stall in use and saw your shoes in that one, he entered the bathroom and locked the door.

He heard a sniffle. "Short Stack? You okay?" He paused, mentally kicking himself. "Stupid question, of course, you're not okay. I know you're in here," Jay said gently.

"Go away," you said through your tears.

"Y/N, you know I can't do that."

"I just wanna be alone...and for you and Will to stop fighting."

"We made up. Me and Will are fine. Can you please come out?"

You swallowed and frantically wiped your tears away and the snot that ran from your nose. Then, you walked out of the stall and immediately over to Jay and hugged him. "I'm sorry," you mumbled into his brown jacket. "I'm sorry for yelling and swearing. I just wanted you guys- I just wanted you guys to stop."

"I know, I know. Neither of us is mad at you. You had every right to be pissed at us."

"It's just- It's just... nevermind. It's stupid."

"Y/N, it's not stupid. Just tell me. I promise I won't laugh."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he confirmed.

You sighed. "I didn't get as much time with Mom as you two did and now I'm not getting as much time with Dad. You guys had both of them--" You drew in a shaky breath. "You guys had both of them at your high school graduations. I won't have that. I won't have that, Jay."

And that's when you crumbled and you just sobbed into Jay's jacket. When you were nine, you never really comprehended the number of things your mom wouldn't be there for, like your first high school dance, your first date, your first kiss, your high school graduation, your college graduation(s), your wedding, your possibly having a kid and her possibly having grandkids. Granted, your dad wasn't the best dad or even the best man in general, but now you'd have neither parent at any of those things, at any of those milestones.

Jay just held you as you continued to sob about all the things your parents wouldn't be there for, holding you just as your mom would hold him whenever he cried when he was younger.

***

You and Jay sat next to each other by your dad's bedside, the sounds of the vent that was currently keeping him alive were the only sounds that could be heard. Will came in and motioned for Jay to meet him outside the room.

"Be right back." He placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Be right outside," Will promised.

Outside of the room, Will explained that the reason Gwen Garrett wanted to keep your dad alive was that his bypass was 29 days ago. And that she just wants to keep your dad alive for one more day just so the hospital didn't take a hit.

"You think Dad would want this?" Will asked. "To stay alive just to buff some numbers?"

"No, no he wouldn't. But, me and Y/N talked while you tried to figure out what that Garrett lady wanted. Uh, Y/N didn't get as much time as we did with Mom and now she's getting less time than we are with Dad."

"Because she's a lot younger than us. What are you trying to say, Jay?" Will asked.

"I think Y/N should decide. She should decide whether or not we keep Dad on the vent because she had the least amount of time with him. She should get to decide whether or not she gets more time with him."

"Jay, I'm not trying to argue with you, but do you really think that's a good idea? Her decision could cause her a lot of trauma down the road if she ends up thinking she made the wrong choice in the future," Will pointed out.

"We could tell her our opinions and what we want, but tell her that ultimately, she gets to make the final decision. That way, she doesn't feel like it's totally on her," Jay suggested.

"And if she doesn't want to make that big of a decision?"

"We decide between ourselves."

Will sighed. Jay did make a good point. "Fine. But if she feels like shit for months, I'm blaming you."

"Add you to the list of people blaming me for bad shit in their lives."

"Are you lumping me together with criminals you put away?"

"Basically."

Will and Jay re-entered the room. "Why does it feel like he's squeezing my hand?" you asked.

Will sighed. He didn't want to crush your hope of your dad coming back, even though he knew it wouldn't happen, but he also knew that he couldn't give you false hope; he knew he needed to explain this to you.

"Those are just reflexes," Will answered. "I'm sorry, Short Stack, but they don't mean anything."

"They don't? He doesn't know I'm here?" You sniffled.

"He doesn't know," Will confirmed.

You nodded and continued to hold your dad's hand.

"Y/N, we have something to tell you," Jay started. You tore your eyes away from your dad and up to your brothers. "Me and Will decided that you should decide whether we keep Dad on the vent because you got the least amount of time with him."

"You- you guys want me to decide whether Dad lives or dies?" you asked.

Will nodded. "If you don't want to, me and Jay can decide between ourselves, but you can still tell us what you'd prefer. If you want to decide, we can let you do that. Or, if you want our opinions before you decide, that's fine, too."

"What do you guys think? I don't want to decide all by myself," you practically whispered.

And so, they explained to you how Garrett just wanted to keep your dad alive for one more day just to buff some numbers and how they didn't think he'd want to be alive just to do that, just to save the hospital from liability.

You also knew that there were one thousand to one odds against your dad coming back and that those weren't odds at all. He'd need a miracle. And, if there was one thing you knew about your dad, it was that he didn't believe in miracles. He believed in hard work, not miracles.

It was for these reasons that you said what you said next: "Let him go."

***

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any dumber," Will started when you and Jay arrived at your dad's apartment a few days later to go through his stuff. Surprisingly, most of it had been spared during the fire. "You went after the person responsible for the fire, didn't tell anyone, and ended up getting shot."

"You got shot?" you yelled as you walked in.

"Nice going, man. She didn't know," Jay said, annoyed. He turned to you. "It hit the vest. I'm totally fine. I just have some bruising on my chest. Nothing to worry about."

"And you two tell me to be careful," you mumbled. "I should be telling you that."

"It's no use, Y/N," Will said. "I tell him all the time. He just never listens."

"You know you're not a cat, right Jay? You don't have nine lives."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Where are we starting?"

***

Jay looked down at the pictures he was going through. He always thought that his dad didn't make it to his police academy graduation. But, the photo in front of him proved him wrong: there, in his hand, was a picture that his dad took of him on stage, getting his badge pinned to his chest when he had graduated from the police academy with the date written on the back.

He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs and keep you and Will from hearing them. But, he didn't know you were on your way to find him.

"Jay, Will's wondering if you want us to order pizza? You good with--" You stopped talking when you saw Jay sitting on the floor, staring at a photo with silent tears streaming down his face. "What's wrong?" You knelt down next to him.

Jay frantically wiped his tears away using the hand that wasn't holding the photo. "Sorry, yeah, tell Will he can order pizza."

"Jay," you said sternly. "What's wrong? And, don't you dare say nothing. Because you wouldn't let me say nothing, you'd bug me until I told you. So, if you don't tell me, I'm going to keep bugging you about it, just like you'd do to me."

Jay chuckled. "I really screwed myself over by using that parenting tactic, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Now, what's wrong?"

Jay sighed. The Halstead stubbornness was starting to show more and more now that you had been living with him. And, because of this, Jay knew that you wouldn't let up.

"I always thought Dad never went to my graduation from the academy." He set the picture on the floor between you guys. "But he did."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "You didn't know that?"

"Why would I? Did you know?" he asked, turning to look at you.

"Yeah. He had to leave early because he had to make sure he was home when I got home from school. That's why he couldn't congratulate you after. He never told you?"

"No, he didn't."

"You know the first thing he said to me when I walked inside?" Jay shook his head. "He said: your brother's a Chicago police officer. I'm proud of him. And your mother would be, too."

"He- he said that?" Jay asked, getting choked up once more.

"He did. He might not have said it, but he was so proud of you, Jay. So proud."

***

Will opened a cabinet to grab some paper plates for you three to eat your pizza off of. As he was grabbing them, his hand brushed up against something leaning up against the back wall of the inside of the cabinet. It wasn't one something, but multiple somethings. He furrowed his eyebrows and took out the entire stack of paper plates, causing the multiple somethings to fall to where the paper plates had previously been. Then, he took the mystery things out of the cabinet.

He gasped when he read the first one.

In his hand, he held six letters, two addressed to each of you, one from your mom and one from your dad.

"Will, what's taking so long?" Jay asked as he flipped open the pizza box. "Food's getting cold."

"I think the pizza's gonna have to wait, guys." Instead of grabbing the plates and bringing them to the table, he brought the letters instead.

"Those don't look like plates to me," Jay pointed out.

"Because they're not." He set the pile of letters on the table. "They're letters. Addressed to each of us."

"But, that's Mom's handwriting," Jay said, flabbergasted.

"What do they say?" you asked.

"Only one way to find out," Will said and reached for the two addressed to him.

You and Jay did the same.

You swore you could hear a pin drop as each of you slowly ripped opened the yellowing envelopes. The seals were easy to open because, since they had been sealed for so long, some of the stickiness was gone.

Will first started with the one from his dad.

Dear William,

I know I said a real man goes right to work. And, I know I was mad at you for doing what you wanted to do and becoming a doctor. But, I guess I just have to think of med school as on the job training...that you pay a ton of money for. You will never hear me say this out loud to you because you know as well as I do that I am as stubborn as they come and I hate admitting I was wrong. But, you did good, kid. Both you and Jay did.

I'll keep this short because, if you're reading this, that means I'm gone and I'm assuming you, Jay, and Y/N are busy with the arrangements. But, just know that even though I don't say it a lot, I love you and I'm proud of you, son.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

Will wiped below his eyes. His dad did say he was proud of him when he was out of surgery two years ago. And, Connor had told him everything his dad had said about him before he went under the anesthesia. But, it was nice to have that in writing because it would be there forever.

It was like all three of you had the same idea to open the letter from your dad first. Your logic was that you figured your mom's would make you cry more, so you figured you'd open that last.

Jay fought to keep his eyes dry as he read the letter from his dad. He regretted the last words he had said to him, now more than ever.

Dear Jayson,

I know you think I hated you for going into the military straight out of high school. But, I didn't. I was just scared, scared I was going to lose you. One thing you don't know is that I tell everyone I work with that you're a war veteran. I love bragging about you and telling people about your accomplishments. They always say I should be so proud of you. And, I'm sorry I never tell you that, but I am proud of you, really proud of you. You fought for our country and saved countless lives over there. Just keep saving the innocent, Jay. That's what you seem to do best...and fight against the people who tell you that you can't do it, just like how you fought against me when I told you not to join the military.

I'll keep this short because if you're reading this, that means I'm gone. But, always remember that I am so proud of you and that I love you so much.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

His dad was proud of him. And now he had a reason as to why his dad didn't want him to join the military: he was scared. And, Jay told himself that if he had his own kids, he'd probably do the same thing because he had seen the horrors of battle and he wouldn't want any of his kids to go through that.

Finally, you read yours. And, as you read it, you were crying more than your brothers. You really didn't care, though.

To my daughter,

As I am writing this, you are nine years old and want to be a doctor. I don't know how that will pan out or if you'll change your mind on what you want to do. But, I am here to tell you, don't let anyone or anything stand in your way of what you want to be. Don't let Will stand in your way and don't stand in his shadow if you become a doctor. Strive to be better than him. Compete with each other if you end up going into the medical field; a little friendly competition never hurt anyone. Be smart and keep your brothers in line because Lord knows they're both as stubborn and as reckless as they come.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

So, Jay was right: Dad wasn't always a sexist pig. And, Kelly was right as well: you missed your old Dad, the one who believed you could do anything, not the one who you knew when you were 13 to now, who was drunk, unfit to parent, and sexist as hell.

Then, Will opened the letter from his Mom.

To my first baby, Will,

First of all, let me say that I love you so much, more than you can ever imagine. I know you'll be a great doctor. Just, be smart, and try to be a little less stubborn because I'm assuming you're going to have to work with other doctors. Find it in you to compromise. I don't know what to say in this because me and your dad agreed that you and Jay and Y/N will get these letters when he's passed as well, so I don't know how far into the future you'll be seeing this. So, I figured I'd leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips to Will:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. This goes for Jay, too.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, same goes for Jay.

3. I'm sorry to say this, but never grow out a long beard. You have red hair and if you grow out a beard, you'll look like an overgrown leprechaun. Sorry, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. In this envelope you will find $500. This is to help you with med school loans, malpractice insurance, or if you're reading this way into the future, to help you with bills, and your own little family.

Will let out a small chuckle as he read the last life tip. And, thankfully, he had never decided to grow out his beard. And now he never would.

Jay looked down at his mom's loopy cursive handwriting and began to read.

To Jay, my second baby,

First of all, I love you more than you can ever imagine. And I am so, so proud of you for choosing to serve your country. I don't know whether you'll decide to stay in or leave the rangers, but I'm sure you'll be amazing at whatever it is you choose to pursue. And Jay, please keep in mind that you only have one life. Don't be crazy and reckless out there. I don't think you will be, but I'm just reminding you because I'm your mom and that's what moms do, they nag you and they worry about you no matter what. And, if you're reading this, that means your dad has passed away as well. Don't take this the wrong way, but please go see a therapist. You've fought in a war and seen terrible things overseas (I know because you once had a nightmare at home. I just didn't tell you that I knew this) and you've lost both of your parents. You should talk to a professional, sweetheart. But, always remember that I will be with you when your nightmares get rough. And, if Y/N wants to follow in your footsteps and go into the military, talk to her about it, but don't fight her on it like Dad did to you. Finally, I will leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips for Jay:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. I already wrote this in Will's letter as well.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, this is in Will's letter, too.

3. I know you want to save everyone, Jay. And, you have a big heart, but you also take things personally. Just know that you can't save everyone and that is okay. Be kind to yourself and think of all the people you did save as opposed to those who you couldn't. It's okay to grieve for them, but don't let your grief last forever.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is $500. Use it towards therapy. But, if you already made the leap to go to therapy, one I am proud of you, and two, use it for something else. Donate it to veterans in need maybe. Or, use it to help pay off loans if you decided to go to college if you ended up leaving the military. Or, if you're reading this way in the future, use this money to help with bills and your own little family.

Maybe Jay would start therapy again now. He had gone a while ago, but after his meds stabilized his nightmares again, he stopped going. Maybe he'll go again because as he always said, his mom was a smart lady.

You were ugly crying as you opened the envelope and read the first few words that your mom had written.

To my baby girl,

Y/N, I love you so much and you will always be my baby girl no matter how old you get. I know I only got nine years with you, but know that I will always be with you in your heart no matter where you are. I was so excited when I found out I was having a girl and I'm so sorry we didn't get as much time on earth together as we should have. Continue doing what you love. Don't let your brothers take Beary from you. And, don't take no for answer when someone tells you that you can't do something just because you're a girl. Us girls are strong. As for the future, sweetheart, you have the kindest little personality right now. Never lose that. But, at the same time, don't let anyone take advantage of that. Stand up for yourself and stand up for others in need. I am going to leave you with more life tips than I left your brothers because they're older and should know a few more things than you at the moment...and they aren't girls.

Mom's life tips for Y/N:

1. And, don't laugh at this, but it works. When shaving down there, apply deodorant down there after. It helps to keep razor bumps and itchiness at a minimum.

2. Don't go for the first man that says I love you. You need to make mistakes before you fall truly and madly in love.

3. Girls can be cruel in middle school and high school. It's okay if you only have one or two true friends because having a few super close friends is better than having lots of distant ones.

4. Don't depend on any man for anything. Before moving in with your boyfriend and/or getting married, make sure you are financially stable all by yourself. That way, you will be able to leave him if things go south.

5. When you do get married, always keep money hidden away or have a secret bank account that your husband doesn't know about. That way, if things get really bad really fast, you can get out of there as fast as possible.

6. Finally, and I'm assuming Dad, Will, or Jay has already told you these things, but if they haven't, here they are. When drinking, watch the bartender make your drink. Don't take drinks from anyone. And don't leave your drink unattended.

I love you, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is a $20 gift card to Build-A-Bear. If you are too old to use it, save it for your kids. Or, if you have kids, give it to your kids. There is also $480. This can be used to pay for dresses for school dances, for college, and if you're reading this way in the future, to start a stash of money that your husband doesn't know about, or to help with bills and your own little family.

All three of you were in tears. But, you always knew that both of your parents would be with you and that they were so, so proud of each of you and that they loved each of you more than the world itself.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment if I made you cry! I got a request of Kevin and Adam teaching Y/N how to punch, so I incorporated it into this imagine. To the anon who requested that, I hope you liked it! Anyway, please reblog/like and comment to tell me what you think! As always if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, liked the imagine? Buy me a coffee here.

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

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skiller0dani · 3 years

Text

Sinful | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | sub!spencer x bau!reader requests info summary | when spencer decides to let the witness flirt with him, you decide to have some fun of your own with derek. it becomes obvious that it's a mistake.

this was sitting in my drafts unedited!! I'm still trying to finish up Amortentia part 2 & the Ethan AU. They'll be up I promise, until then.. enjoy Sub!Spencer! This is my first real stab at a dom reader so I hope I did okay. I've read fics about face slapping as a kink and I just wanna let you guys know that I am not comfortable writing that so I probably never will include that.

Also I hate saliva so I probably wont write about spitting either. Sorry lololol

thanks @imagining-in-the-margins for the inspiration! (was totally inspired by "messy lessons" if you guys haven't read it...you should!)

At first you doubted he knew what he was even doing.

At first.

Maybe he wasn't trying to get in her pants, and maybe he wasn't trying to lead her on. But he was still letting her shamelessly flirt with him. You'd been with the FBI for years and made the silly mistake of assuming that working in the same department as your boyfriend would make things easier on you. Being able to see him everyday is a definite plus, seeing him in danger every time you're in the field is definitely not a plus. Watching a busty blonde witness flirt with him is certainly not a plus, especially when he lets her throw herself into his chest. Supposedly "distraught" but you see the cheeky smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

You see the thing about Spencer that nobody except for you knows, is that deep down he's a very naughty boy. The little mischievous glint in his eyes when his eyes meet yours from across the interrogation room proved that. You were professional however, so you were forced to stand by and watch him comfort her. Bitch.

"C-Could you get me some water?" Her voice was shaky, you still didn't buy it.

"Sure, Doctor-"

"Agent Y/L/N if you wouldn't mind?" Spencer's much more dominating voice cut through yours. Your eyebrows flew up as you shared a millisecond stare down with him. You could see the playful look in his eyes, flashed by the brattiest smile you'd ever seen grace his lips. Your lips stretched in a tight smile before you nodded and turned out of the room.

When JJ joined you near the kitchenette she opened her mouth to say something, but once she'd noticed you white knuckle gripping the faucet handle she changed her mind. She continued with whatever she was doing, not looking at you. It was a tense few minutes until she turned out of the room. While everyone in the BAU knew you and Spencer were together, it was easy for them to forget seeing as you never acted as a couple at work. For obvious reasons. Only in moments of danger, like when Spencer's helicopter went down and there were panicked tears streaming down your cheeks did they remember that you were in fact, together.

Apparently your usually good boy seems to have forgotten who he belongs to as well. The sight you returned to left tendrils of anger licking at the pit of your stomach.

"Oh really, that is so cool! I'll bet you're so strong!" The witness had perked up considerably since you'd left the room. Her hand reached up to curl at his bicep, and he didn't stop her. What a brat. Spencer sat next to her rather than across from her at the table, presumably to console her. Spencer beamed at her praise, an action you did not miss.

"Yeah, actually FBI agents are required to pass a variety of physical exams to insure they're physically healthy enough to chase down an unsub if need be-"

"Here's your water." Your voice was tense and you had to resist the urge to "accidentally" spill the water on her as you set the glass down. You didn't meet Spencer's eye as he stood to follow you out of the room. You could see the naughty façade fading as soon as he'd left the room.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft and his big brown eyes wide when you turned to glance at him. Your heart melted at the sight of those sad puppy dog eyes but you're not going to give in when baby boy broke so many rules.

"Shush." Is all you say, your voice sharp. You're not going to hide the fact that you're mad at him. And you're going to stay mad at him, no matter how cute he is.

"Yes ma'am." Spencer mumbles as he follows you towards the room Hotch is waiting in with the whiteboard. You try your hardest to focus on whatever Hotch is saying but all you can think about is that stupid witness pressing her chest up against Spencer, and the fact that he was practically bathing in the attention she gave him. You hated the fact that Spencer was getting exactly what he wants, he lives for your punishments. In a way, punishing him was also rewarding him but it was rewarding for you too.

After vaguely remembering Hotch asking for Spencer, you watched him scramble forward. You don't miss the fact that he nearly stops to ask for your permission to do so, you have him trained so well. A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth and you almost feel like forgiving him until Hotch speaks again.

"Reid, I want you to take Allison Calloway home..." he lists off where the rest of you will go but at that point you're no longer listening. You hear Hotch pair your name with Derek, which sparks a wicked idea in your head. He's having Spencer take the witness home? Is the world punishing you? You see Spencer steal one nervous glance at you before rushing to get Allison. You tongue your cheek before reluctantly following Derek out of the precinct.

You and Derek were apparently instructed by Hotch to go investigate the second crime scene, where a young man with his hands missing was found earlier this morning. You peek at Derek out of the corner of your eye, Derek is one of your close friends and he knows more than he should about yours and Spencer's...extracurricular activities. He seems to be in a good mood today, and he's unlikely to think anything of it. He'll definitely tell Spencer about it, which is sort of what you're hoping for. While this is hardly the place for you to "come on" to Derek, you're willing to do it. Spencer needs a taste of his own medicine.

"Odd, that the unsub removes the hands but repositions the watch around the victims ankle." Derek muses, his hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. Luckily the officers sent to patrol the crime scene are nowhere nearby. You circle Derek, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in your mind. It can't be too much, but definitely enough for him to inform Spencer. Derek is used to more lewd phrases coming from yours and Penelope's mouth, so surprising him enough to tattle to your boyfriend will be a challenge.

It can't be anything that would hurt Spencer however.

Derek views Spencer as his little brother and would never hurt him, and you wouldn't want to hurt Spencer either this is all in good filthy fun. It has to be a little risky, but not so risky that Derek would prefer keeping it from Spencer to protect him. If its too much Derek will approach you directly about it which would be humiliating and would entirely miss the point. This is a very delicate operation.

"Oh Derek, have you been working out?" You decide to take the easy route, adding a dash of sultry to your tone.

"Occasionally." Derek doesn't turn his head towards you, you haven't quite captured his attention yet.

"Firm is a good look on you." You tease, you'll need to ease him into it because he's going to have the wind knocked out of him when you finally lay it on him.

"Easy girly, you're venturing into dangerous territory." You hear the lilt to his tone letting you know that he's joking. You need to push it further.

"No I'm serious," you need to tread very carefully. You don't want to ruin a friendship you still want to keep, "it's a really good look on you."

Derek turns to you then, an eyebrow raised as he watches you trail your eyes down his body. While Derek isn't a bad looking guy, he doesn't even come close to comparing to your beautiful boy. Spencer is easily the cutest and sexiest man you've ever had the privilege of standing in the same room with.

"What's with you?" He asks, keeping the smile on his face so he doesn't alert you that he's concerned. You're on the right track but if you leave it here Derek will let it go. You need to drop that mini bomb on him, just a little more. You trail a finger down his shoulder, towards his bicep.

"Nothing, just admiring the view. The big, strong, sexy, view. What I wouldn't give to have you in bed Derek Morgan." There's the bomb. Your words have an immediate effect over him. The half-lidded sultry look in your eyes is enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Usually he can tell if you're joking but now he really can't tell. He's speechless, which doesn't happen to Derek Morgan very often.

"Y/N..."

"Call me if you wanna take me up on my offer." You send a wink at him before turning to head towards the black SUV. That should be enough for him to tattle.

When you return to the precinct, you watch with pleased eyes as Derek immediately pulls Spencer into a side room. Derek briefly glances at you, and you send him a smile but do not receive on in return. You don't think anything of it, Derek will get over it eventually with an explanation. You watch carefully as Derek begins to speak and an unreadable expression crosses onto Spencer's face, you expect he's just absorbing what Derek is telling him. Any minute now that look will cross onto his face, those dark eyes that warn you that you've officially annoyed him.

Derek keeps speaking, you can see his lips moving. What are they talking about? It shouldn't be taking this long. You're too far away to really make out their faces, so you subtly sneak closer when Spencer's eyes flash to meet yours and you gasp. There is no anger on his face, no playful annoyance, instead you see pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Derek tries to reach out to grab Spencer but the door to that side room opens and Spencer comes rushing out of it. Not bothering a side glance at you as he makes his hasty exit.

"I was only kidding." You explain quickly as Derek emerges. He doesn't look amused.

"It was too far Y/N. He's crushed." Derek snaps, brushing past you. Immediately you turn and exit the precinct, quickly finding Spencer tucked away in a secluded corner. He's sitting against the building, his head tucked into his knees and the absolute worst part is the fact that he's softly crying. You kneel in front of him in an instant, although you're not sure what to even say.

"Oh baby boy, I was only kidding. I didn't mean it, I said it because you flirted with that blonde witness!" You explain in a hurry, trying to reach out to take him in your arms. Spencer resists, instead lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy and red rimmed, "kidding?"

"Yes precious, I was kidding."

"But Derek is more...attractive then I am." Spencer whimpers softly. You reach forward to firmly grasp Spencer's chin, ensuring he looks at you.

"Spencer Walter Reid you look at me," You order, and hesitantly Spencer lifts his watery eyes to meet yours. "There is not a single person who is more attractive then you are, you are flawless."

"But deep down you want Derek-"

"I was kidding Spencer. I only want you, my good boy." You purr, and you see a shiver run down his spine. You lean forward to press your lips to his before your thumbs come up to swipe away your tears.

"I'm not a good boy, I don't deserve it." Spencer whimpers once you help him stand up. Even though you're looking up at him, it's still very clear that you're the one in charge. "I flirted with Allison."

"You're right, you haven't been very good have you? I'm sure you'll make it up to me in the hotel room." You smile pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. He nods immediately, it warms your heart.

"I love you." Spencer whispers after he catches your hand as you're about to open the door. You press a kiss to his palm, "I love you precious."

You could feel the nerves rolling off of him when you opened the door to your shared hotel room. The door shut with a soft click as you kicked off your shoes. Spencer remained at the hotel room door curled in on himself and wringing his hands together. You have to hide the smile as you shed your jacket from your shoulders, beginning to reach for your jeans when you pause. You take a seat on the bed, watching Spencer eye you carefully from his spot by the door.

"Come here." There isn't a question in your tone, it's more of an order. An order Spencer hastily obeys as he scrambles to stand before you.

"Undress me." You instruct, and Spencer kneels immediately to grab at the hem of your shirt. He carefully lifts the fabric off your body and tosses it aside before reaching around your body to unclip your bra. "No touching baby boy, you were naughty remember?" You snapped, and you saw him turn his head down in shame before turning his attention towards your pants. He unbuttons your jeans and helps pull them down your legs. Spencer's breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on your clothed pussy.

"Like what you see precious? Maybe if you were a good boy and didn't let that woman run her hands all over you, maybe I'd let you touch." You purr watching the disdain in his eyes when he realizes what his punishment is going to be.

"Tell me the truth baby boy, did you let her touch you in the car?"

He nods, but that's not good enough for you. You reach down to roughly palm him through his slacks.

"I said did you let her touch you?" You punctuate every word with a gentle squeeze around his cock. Finally, Spencer seems to find his voice.

"Y-Yes!"

"Where? Show me where she marked what's mine." You hiss, not even attempting to disguise your frustration. Spencer lifts one hand to his chest and trails it down his stomach, dangerously close to the hem of his pants before thankfully he stops.

"You let her touch you, this close to your cock?" You snap, tearing your hand away from him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He stammers, his eyes wide and his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Boy does he look pretty on his knees before you. Not pretty enough for mercy however. There's a pleading look in his eyes, and a desperation. A desperation to please you.

"Make it up to me." You snap and as soon as the words leave your lips, Spencer's fingers are curling around the waistband of your underwear and tearing them off your body.

"Y-Yes ma'am." You lean back on your elbows as Spencer lowers his head between your legs, his eyes flickering to yours briefly. With a nod of your head, Spencer is delving between your legs with the enthusiasm of sex deprived teenager. Your head tosses back immediately as you feel his tongue licking thick stripes over your entrance. He continues to lap at you, his tongue teasing your entrance before he returns to his heavy licking. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his curls and pulling his head closer.

"Just like that, you're being such a good boy." You praise through breathy moans, and Spencer can feel his chest swell with pride. He loves being your good boy. But he isn't your baby boy all the time, sometimes, with a bit of coaxing, he becomes daddy. Spencer reaches up to prod a finger at your entrance before he's sinking in knuckle deep, his mouth curling around your clit. Spencer pumps on finger, to stretch you a little before slowly working a second finger into your suffocatingly tight heat.

"Yes Spencer, don't stop." You beg, feeling yourself climbing closer to reaching the peak, especially when his tongue flicks expertly against your clit while his fingers pump steadily into you. "Oh God, my good boy-" You praise again, and this time Spencer moans against you. Your toes curl as the vibrations send a course of pleasure through you, you've got to make him do that again.

"Do you like being my good boy Spencer? My good, obedient boy. So eager to please me, to make me feel good. And you do, you make me feel so good because you're such a good, good, boy." Your heavy praise causes Spencer to release a low groan, and the feeling is enough to launch you over the edge. Spencer keeps pumping is fingers into you, his tongue swirling soft circles over your clit to help you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped jerking, you finally pull him off you.

"I forgive you precious, but unfortunately I still have to punish you." You inform him as you pull him back up to his feet. You hear him whine as you push his chest to lay him back against the bed.

"Do you have to?"

"Are you talking back to me baby boy?"

"N-No!" He squeaks instantly, his cheeks painted red. You stand over him, laying beneath you and you can't fight the soft moan that escapes your lips upon seeing him. His hair is disheveled from you raking your fingers through his, his brown eyes are wide and innocent as he looks up at you, and his cheeks are dusted such a beautiful shade of pink.

"Take off your clothes precious, I want to see all of you." You instruct, and you love the shy look on his face as he reaches up to remove his shirt. You let your eyes shamelessly roam his body as he slowly exposes more skin to you. Despite having been together for a few years now, Spencer is still incredibly insecure. Deep down he's worried you'll grow tired of him. Worried that you'll seek out other men despite being with him. Spencer is worried he's not enough to keep you interested. Which is wildly untrue, it's already been over 3 years and if anything you become more interested as time goes on.

"So beautiful baby boy, your body is a work of art." You breathe under your breath. Spencer blushes even deeper then he was before as he nervously fidgets underneath. You swing your legs on either side of his waist, your palms on the bed next to his head. "Your punishment, precious boy," your hands drift to his that are resting on your hips, "is that you can't touch me." You finish, moving his hands to the bed.

Spencer's eyes widen as his head drops back. A whine escapes his lips, but like a good boy, he grasps tightly at the sheets. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock, pressing the head against your entrance before you teasingly lower onto him. Spencer's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your velvety walls around him- it's almost too much for the poor boy. It doesn't help that it's been a few weeks since you two last had sex, meaning you're tighter then you normally are. In fact you're so tight that Spencer can't even breathe properly while he's stretching you open.

"Oh baby boy, you feel absolutely wonderful. Your cock stretches me open so good." You purr, your hands landing on his chest for leverage so you can bounce on him faster. Spencer whimpers softly, the feeling is overwhelming, you can tell he's struggling to contain himself. Your hair drifts down your back when you throw your head back, his cock hitting places deep inside you.

"Getting close," You moan and Spencer knows that's his cue to reach down and begin rubbing circles over your clit. As soon as his thumb makes contact you're moaning loudly, your free hand digging into his hair to hold onto tightly. "Yes Spencer, yes." The phrase becomes a chant you repeat in your head over and over again. Spencer continues to rub you, desperate to help you find your release. When you slam down on him again, his cock hits the place deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You cum instantaneously, your body nearly falling top of Spencer's from the sheer force of it. Spencer's arms come up to steady you, offering shallow thrusts into you to chase his own release.

"Y/N...c-can I?" His voice is wrought, and you smile weakly.

"Yes precious, you can cum." As soon as you give him permission, he's cumming in hot gushes into you, his face buried in your neck. You run your hand down his back as his heart rate slows back to normal, and Spencer's arms stay curled around your waist.

"Spence?"

"Hm?" You can hear the lazy drawl in his voice that lets you know he's getting very sleepy.

"Don't ever break my rules again, or your punishment will be much worse."

"Yes ma'am." You press a kiss to his lips before pulling off him, and curling yourself into his side.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer x y/n #criminal minds #bau #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #mdlb relationship

607 notes · View notes

seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

The Scientist

(Hange (Hanji) can rearrange by guts tbh :P Lol, anyways, this is a Yandere Hanji x Female Reader story! It takes place in current time tho (same universe as Yelena). Also, idgaf how tall the creator says Hanji is. In this fic, even the tall girlies get to be shorter than Hanji.

TW: kidnapping!, !drugging!, unwanted advances, stalking!, etc!

Please proceed with caution! Also, I’m sorry if you can tell that this was in my drafts for a hot min. I started to write this when I first started this blog, and I just finished/revised it lol. )

“Hey, (Nickname!” Hearing the loud shout of a certain brunet, you jump about a foot in the air. As usual, Hanji decides to surprise you whilst you’re in the middle of something.

Pulling away from the microscope you’re currently looking at, you put on a strained smile, “Yes?”

Their one eye sparkles in a hopeful fashion from behind their glasses, one of her their fiddling with their eyepatch, “Sooo,” They draw out the o, seemingly trying to disarm you, “Are you free this weekend? There’s this suuuuper cool bar that’s just opening, and me and the others are thinking about going! It’s totally not a date or anything,” They pause to let out a loud laugh, “I think it’ll be fun! What D'ya say?”

Forcing out a chuckle, you shake your head, “Ah, I’m sorry, Hanji, but I’m busy this weekend. I have a lot of samples I need to process for that upcoming court case,” You chew your bottom lip nervously, “I’m sorry. I hope you and the others have a good time, though!”

A new voice is heard, butting into your conversation, “I can do those! I’ve been needing more hours, anyways,” Whipping your head in the direction of the voice, you silently curse. Fuck Armin for being so helpful!

Hanji beams even brighter than before, clapping their hands together happily, “See! Armin can do that for you!” They lean in closer to you, their lab coat brushing against yours, “Come on, (Nickname), I’d be reaaaaally happy if you go!”

An uneasy feeling pools in your gut, as an anxious sweat begins to bead at your brow, “I-uhm-I suppose I can go for an hour or two.”

“Great!” They grab your hands in theirs, squeezing them in a friendly manner, “The bar is called ‘Titan’s Wrath,’ and we’re meeting at eight on Saturday!” Releasing you, they pat you on the back, “See you later!” They run off, most likely back to the dry lab.

After a moment of silence, you slowly turn towards the short haired blond man, “Armin, I’m going to kill you.”

He blanches at your blunt tone, flushing a bright red, “Wha-what?”

You grit your teeth, tears starting to bead your eyes in frustration, “They’re the person I was telling you about! Hanji constantly harasses me, and you practically just tossed me into their arms! Why would you do that?”

A look of pure terror and remorse appears of his face, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t realise that they were the person-oh my God, I’m so stupid. I-I really didn’t know! I’m so, so sorry!” You let out a quivering breath, hands clenched into fists to calm you down.

“It-it’s alright. I never really told you who they were. Just never do that again, okay? If you need more hours, just tell me, and I’ll see what I can do,” The younger man sighs in relief, shoulders deflating.

“I promise to never do that again!” You nod, blinking away your unshed tears, and smile at him.

“Okay, then we don’t have any problems,” You laugh lightly, shaking your head, “Who would’ve thought our newest intern was the dry lab’s wing man?” He panics again, making you cackle good-naturedly, “Now, can you please grab the dilluter? I forgot to grab it from the fridge.”

Hanji, being the ever cheerful person that they are, set their sights on you the moment you were hired.

But, if they came out with their feelings immediately, you’d just assume that they wanted to take advantage of you.

So, they watched you. Writing down your likes and dislikes, your quirks, everything. Through their ‘research,’ they came to realise that you’re very good at your job. The wet-lab should be lucky that they have you… but they never give you the recognition you deserve!

They bombard you with assignments, become upset when you don’t finish them in seconds (which is so unreasonable!), and hardly give you any time off!

You don’t seem to mind, being the good girl you are, but Hanji sure does!

So, they’d seek out the top graduates from the college nearby, and help them become employed at the lab. The newbies really helped get the load off of your shoulders, and once done, they decided to swoop in now that you had a decent amount of free time.

It started at the vending machine- they’d asked you if you wanted to get coffee with them sometime. You said no, probably because you felt it wasn’t professional. After all, rumours would spread like wildfire if you went out with the lead lab tech of the dry lab!

So, everytime they knew you had a weekend off, they’d approach you with new places to try.

Be it a movie, a store, a concert- it didn’t matter. They just desperately wanted to have some time with you!

But, you reacted the complete opposite of how you were supposed to.

You’d pick up as many shifts as possible, most times going into over time, just to avoid the flamboyant lead. Whenever you saw them in the hall or by the break room, you’d turn in the complete opposite direction. If wet-lab needed to correspond with the dry-lab, you’d send your most qualified coworker to do so.

It was saddening, to be honest. They love you so much, yet you refuse to even face them.

But, thanks to that Armin kid, their plans can finally bloom into fruition. For once, you can’t escape the brunet’s advances!

Because of that, Hanji made a note to the owner of the lab that Armin would make a good contribution to the lab after he gets all of his qualifications.

Saturday night comes far too soon.

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a cropped, white long sleeve, you stand in front of ‘Titans Wrath.’ Scoffing at how the bar sounds like a metal band, you make your way inside.

Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open, immediately hearing loud rock music. Mentally patting yourself on the back for your observation, you step inside of the cool building.

Looking inside, you see a large, double sided bar in the middle of the room, a stage and standing area just behind it. There are a few pool tables in the front area where you’re standing, along with double doors leading to a hidden kitchen.

There’s also a lot of people inside. You can’t see Hanji or their friends, but seeing a band setting up on the stage tells you that they’re probably on the other side of the bar.

Walking over to the steps leading down into the stage area, you try to ignore the leers of a few men around you. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn clothes that accentuate your beautiful figure. Peering around the corner, you see the scientist and their friends, an empty seat in between them and a large blond man, that you vaguely recall being the police chief of your city.

Strolling towards them halfheartedly, you give yourself a small peptalk inside of your mind. Sure, Hanji has always been touchy-feely with you, sure, they’ve asked you out about one hundred times, sure, you run into them every time you leave the house, sure-

“(Nickname)! You actually came!” The brunet’s voice is loud, loud enough to cut through the loud music and equally loud chatter. Forcing a smile onto your face, you give a small wave, suddenly uncomfortable with the line of strangers at the bar suddenly looking at you.

“Yes, hello, Hanji,” When you’re close enough, you’re thrown into a tight embrace, their body practically molding into your own. They’re about a head taller than you, making it so your head is practically forced against their protruding collarbones. Hesitating slightly, you give them a soft pat on the back, trying to escape their suffocating embrace.

“I’m so glad you came!” They release you just as suddenly as they grabbed you, putting a hand on the small of your back, and practically forcing you in between the blond man and themself, “(Nickname), this is Erwin. Erwin, this is (First Name).”

His blue eyes rake over your appearance, recognition appearing on his face, “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. (Last Name), especially under better circumstances.”

You nod, thinking back on some high profile cases you met with him for, “Yes, it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.”

A loud scoff is heard from beside Erwin, the head of a short, dark haired man peeks around the broad chested man, “It’s about time you brought a respectful brat,” You have to stop yourself from flinching at his harsh tone, “I am Levi,” Opening your mouth to introduce yourself, he holds up a hand, halting you, “There’s no need for introductions, Shitty-glasses has gushed about the ‘pretty wet-lab scientist’ for months now.”

“Oh, alright. It’s nice to meet you,” His lifts his whiskey on rocks in acknowledgement, before downing it with one swig.

“Likewise,” After that, he turns towards a light brown haired woman, her high pitched voice is heard from where you’re sitting.

“I’m sorry about that. The detective is very… unsociable.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Smith. He kind of reminds me of one of my interns, Annie,” You say with a small smile, before your swiveling bar stool is forced around so you’re facing Hanji.

“Sooo, you like the bar so far?” Their smile is somewhat pleading, and you can’t help but just go along with them.

“Yes, this place is, um, cool. Very interesting choice,” They clasp their hands together with a pleased expression, as they somehow move closer to you than they already are. At this point, you’re worried that they’ll fall off their stool.

“Right? Our residential emo boy found it, and we’ve been hooked ever since,” A loud ‘Shut up, Shitty-glasses,’ is heard from behind you, making the brunet laugh, “Let me order you a drink! I think there’s something that you’ll really like!”

Opening your mouth to reject, it was seemingly too late, because the brunet has already waved over a punk-ed out bartender. You didn’t really hear what the drink is called, but the man sets to work immediately.

It barely takes a minute for it to be finished, and the purple drink is suddenly in front of your motionless form. Looking up, the purple haired man winks at you, before turning his attention back to a speaking Hanji.

“Anything she orders, put it on my tab,” He nods, before walking off to service another customer.

Turning your attention back to Hanji, you try to persuade them to let you pay, “Thanks, Hanji, but it’s alright. I can pay for my own drinks-”

“Don’t worry about it; I asked you out, remember? And it’s the least I can do for harassing you for the past few months,” Startled by their uncharacteristically somber words, you nod in understanding.

“Alright. Thank you,” They nod, before motioning towards your drink.

“Try it! I’m sure you’ll like it!” Grabbing the cool glass cup, you bring it up to your lips, and take a small sip. It’s amazing. It tastes like (favourite flavour), and it goes down smooth.

“You’re right, this is delicious!” They grin brightly, clapping their hands together in glee.

“Great!” They motion towards the stage with their head, “The show’s about to start! Are you ready for a kickass night?” You laugh at their vigour, and nod.

“You bet!”

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

You spoke too soon.

It seems like you’ve drank too much, because you’re now feeling dizzy. Throughout the set, you’d ordered about five more drinks, and they seemingly hit you all at once.

Hanji, who’s been watching you since your fourth drink, feigns shock at your unstable form. That Rohypnol they grabbed from work works quite well! Now they can see why it’s the choice drug for those awful, awful people.

“Whoa there, (Nickname), it seems you’ve had too much to drink!” Hanji jokes, hands holding you steady on your bar stool. The only person from your group still at the bar is Erwin, but he knows they have it under control. As chief of police, he feels a bit of remorse, but he knows it's for the best. Hanji will take care of you, because, after all, you’re their only true obsession.

“Wha-huh? Was’ happenin?” Hanji can all but coo at how cute you are.

“Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll get you home safe,” Helping you to your boot clad feet, they send a knowing look to Erwin, who smiles in return. Wrapping an arm around your waist, they help you stumble out of the bar, and walk towards their car. Once at the passenger side, the brunet unlocks the door, and assists you inside. You flop onto their leather interior, eyes unfocused, and body movements random. Chuckling to themself, they buckle you in, not before pulling on gloves, and taking your phone, keys, and wallet off of you.

Taking these items, they empty your wallet of its cash, and chuck everything into a nearby bush. Knowing that the cameras outside the building and the buildings surrounding the place are off, they feel at ease. If anything, they feel like your knight in shining armour. If they hadn’t taken you, someone else would’ve-you’re just too cute.

Closing your door, and rounding the car, they slide into the driver’s side, before starting the car. Buckling themself in, they look at your out-of-it form, and smile.

#yandere hange #hange zoe #yandere hange zoe #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #hange x reader #hange supremacy #yandere attack on titan #attack on titan x reader

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hopefullystillatheatrestudent · 3 years

Note

this might be a weird thought but the way jensen performs masculinity (and i KNOW it’s a performance cause like, have you SEEN the mockumentary?) is just.... so inherently queer to me lmao

ok. okokokokokok. you asked for this. i have a LOT of thoughts on this. it’s gonna be under a cut because i’m gonna be annoying and psychoanalyse a celebrity i’ve never met(and hope i never do) but trust and believe when i tell you i know what i’m talking about so

you want my opinion? here goes. there is absolutely no way jensen ackles is straight. i hear you, ‘how do you know that he’s bi? that’s invasive and creepy’ but may i counter that point by saying how do you know he’s straight???? why is the default for everyone heterosexual? that’s a toxic mentality to have; ‘oh you don’t know for sure so just treat him like he’s 100% straight just in case’ like....what? heteronormativity drives me wild i’m sorry

and also, um, just to, um, prove my point that this man is decidedly not straight™(i really don’t want to do this but like it has to be said) we KNOW he’s not straight because his d*ck has spoken for itself around misha, like, four times. I HATE SAYING IT!!!!!!! but, um, straight men don’t get aroused by men. ...do i really need to explain myself further???? that’s what i thought(and don’t give me the ‘it could have been for unrelated reasons’ or ‘that wasn’t a boner!’ crap because um good lord yes it was and misha caused every single one so no it wasn’t a coincidence i’m gonna move on before i collapse into myself like a dying star)

anyway, on to the topic at hand which is jensen and his performative masculinity. and it’s a juicy one.

after the unconscious amount of hours i’ve put into watching and subconsciously judging jackles, i have come to the conclusion that like, 90% of how he presents himself and talks and even moves is an act. it’s a facade. it’s a shield. he is not that person. it actually seems exhausting, because he tries to compose himself in this macho, manly, confident and effortlessly cool way, but he’s not that person he desperately wishes he was and wants to be perceived as. he’s on guard every second, even the slightest tilt of his head is like, pre-meditated in some way? if i’m going FULL body language analyst mode, i’ve noticed he has a certain posture he always shifts himself into, and it’s very ‘pursed lips, stoic faced, gruff voiced, square-shoulder, broad and manly’ but, not to be rude jensen, it kind of reads as a little kid imitating the adults he thinks are cool? oof i am going IN huh(it’s out of love though i promise)

he is trying to be this person at every second:

because that’s who he wishes he was, because that’s how he gets validation from the people around him that he looks up to; straight white guys. but to me, who he presents himself to be at conventions is just as much of a performance as this whole eye of the tiger bit is.

oh i should mention i know his body language isn’t naturally like that because how he naturally carries himself is actually pretty flamboyant? like he seriously must be toning himself down HARD

examples:

there’s no tension in his body here as opposed to the eye of the tiger gif. i’d describe it as...generally loose and free? he’s at ease when he moves like that and you can see it.

oh and dude!!! DUDE!!!! how could i not mention the fucking SPECTACLE that is his voice??? jensen. i watched season one. i know where your voice naturally sits. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE. and there have been so many accounts of fans visiting jensen in his trailer and being surprised that his real voice is two octaves higher. again, his performance of masculinity is all encompassing. he can’t even talk normally because, in his mind, that’s a chink in his armour.

and, like you said, anon, this whole smokes-and-mirrors gong show of ‘i am the cool texan man’ is inherently queer. who are you trying to impress??? guys??? that’s pretty gay dude.(btw: gay[honorary])

i feel like i’ve already read this man for filth but i have to keep going bc i have so much to say

ok next thing i’m gonna talk about is how jensen says one thing but everything else about him tells us the exact opposite. another HUGE element of performative masculinity, ONE THAT DEAN WINCHESTER IS A MASTER OF. have i mentioned how dean and jensen are like mirrors of each other when it comes to their sexuality and queer identity??? because it is fascinating how everything i say about jensen also directly applies to dean.

allow me to introduce the grumpy face™. as in, the face he glues on when he’s enjoying doing something but doesn’t want to let anyone know it. and it’s ALWAYS when he’s doing something that could be seen as unmanly in any way. (and when i say manly i mean the ‘ideal’ version of manhood that doesn’t really exist but that jensen seems to be striving for[and dean too])

prime example is this video he did with daneel. the grumpy face™ doesn’t budge the whole time as he’s like,,,,playing an instrument and acting like he doesn’t want to bc i guess that’s too girly??? but i also find this video fascinating because the joke IN it is kind of that they’re both poking fun at him for being so insecure about playing a freaking flute. because, i mean, he gets into it, but he wants you to think he is not.

also this picture.

what is this. i hate them. jensen is smushing himself into misha’s forehead but noooo his face is telling us ‘i hate this’ because CLEARLY he does. also misha’s so happy ew gross

he does that face in photo ops with misha ALL THE TIME but how many times has he also literally asked the con goers if he can also have those photos on his phone too? because of course he actually loves touching misha and is actually a sentimental fool but he tries so hard to hide it and fails so spectacularly.

oh and this. and of COURSE this. actually let’s talk about the hitch kiss for a hot minute because it’s a perfect example of exactly what i’m talking about

(he is so transparent guys. he tries so hard but he’s so obvious.)

1. misha was never supposed to be onstage with him. so it’s a boldface LIE and OBVIOUS PLOY TO GET MISHA TO KISS HIM when he says ‘they’d like us to make out now’. but of course the way he says it is ‘oh my god can you believe what these crazy panel people are making us do haha but i mean what they say goes amirite’. same energy as ‘oh my god did you just dare us to kiss rn???’ ‘....no i didn’t’ ‘oh my god i can’t believe you’d ask that haha but i can’t say no to a dare lol’ it’s the SAME THING

2. the fact that he was in the worst mood before misha came onstage and FAKE KISSING HIM made him feel...SO?? much better? like not just a little better a lot better like, again, that says a lot, because if they weren’t dating he would not be in a better mood if misha kissed his cheek unprompted. bc that cheek kiss wasn’t a joke it was a genuine sign of affection and AHHHH

3. after the kiss happens. you know, the one that jensen actively leans into and is smiling like an idiot the whole time through and is quite clearly having the time of his life during....he says ‘well, that was uncomfortable’. .......my guy. um. i don’t know how to tell you that i do in fact have eyes and you are NOT pulling the fast one you think you are

like i’m so sorry jensen but i have you pegged. it’s literally no use.

god there’s so many instances of him doing this with misha specifically. the whole ‘ew gross lol’ but then everything about him tells us the exact opposite. like this(i hate this. how dare he say ‘he has though, hasn’t he?’ LIKE THAT?????)

so yeah my point with that is he really wants us to think he is one thing when he is the antithesis of what he’s trying to be. he really likes those things that he talks down about, and everything he’s loudly projecting is all to hide how he really feels. he went to a gay bar with daneel, for crying out loud. he wants to play a role in drag. he’s queer and he likes it. pov: you’re jensen ackles train of thought: ‘ok so i really like this thing that people might make fun of me for or call me gay for liking so if i just say ‘lol as if’ and make a grossed-out face they will be FOOLED. i am a genius. hey misha wanna blow on my ear lol i meAN GROSS EW’

i have two more things i want to talk about when it comes to this topic so PLEASE bear with me anon this is why you took so long to answer clearly lmao

ok so we’re now going to go over my favorite hot take of all time. which is ‘how do we know dean’s performing masculinity? because sam isn’t.’ only replace dean with jensen and sam with jared and oh my god do we ever have a case

jared is as STRAIGHT as they come. he is secure in that knowledge. and that’s why he is perfectly comfortable treating misha like this:

and not try to scream ‘i am not enjoying doing this!!!!!!’ at us. because he doesn’t care what we think of his sexuality like jensen does(because he has nothing to hide whereas jensen DOES)

something i found the other day that no one has brought up but i SCREAMED upon finding it is this one clip THAT I CAN’T FIND OH GOD but i promise i’m not making it up. i can’t believe i can’t find it guys it is gold. i need need NEED to talk about it. and if anyone knows what i’m referencing and can apply links in any way i will love you forever but here’s what happens off the top of my head:

ok so i’m a bit too braindead to explain it perfectly but um basically it’s a j2 panel and someone brings up magic mike and i think jared says ‘yeah i didn’t watch it’ and then jensen says ‘all the way through’. stupid joke. whatever. the joke is that jared is gay for watching magic mike.

and then i literally kid you not. jared gets this like ‘jesus christ ok dude? lol’ look on his face and then goes ‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ and jensen gets a guilty look on his face and walks away. and jared did not say it as a joke. he was being dead pan and earnest. and jensen knew it too, he knew he was projecting. i wish i could show you guys the clip i promise if i ever find it i’ll link it but IS THAT NOT SO DAMNING FOR JENSEN????? like come ON. also proves my point that when you compare how they feel about watching magic mike. jared doesn’t care bc watching it just doesn’t interest him, but he also thinks that just watching it in itself doesn’t make you gay. jensen however.......has a different mindset, clearly.

‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ is actually a great title for my next and FINAL section(we’re almost there folks) which is how jensen projects his insecurites about his own sexuality and relationship with misha onto misha.

i hope by now we’ve all seen this video of jensen impersonating cas. it is a blatant microaggression on his part. and like obviously homophobic. it’s like in his mind if he makes fun of them for being gay it makes them both less gay somehow??? it’s self-deprecation in a way??? let’s just tell it like it is: that impression was just jensen’s overt internalized homophobia rearing it’s ugly head. he does it a LOT too when it comes to misha.

i mean:

and that whole mess where he’s making fun of misha for being a bottom in their panel in 2016? ‘so you’re saying, like with football terms, there’s a handler and there’s a receiver heheheehe’ jensen you’re not exempt from being gay just because you know football terms lmao

oh and his OTHER impression of misha where he mocks him for...bicycling...because it’s not a manly enough sport??? jensen NO ONE else has ever thought this hard in their lives about what constitutes as masculine enough to be a sport before. that’s all you bud. we don’t find those jokes nearly as funny as you do. you are reaching, sir

the good news is that misha thinks it’s hilarious and knows it’s projecting on jensen’s part and will tease him endlessly for it. many stories come to mind, like that one photo op story where they’re literally dressed in rainbow banners and pride stickers but when misha goes to hold his hand jensen said something like ‘no way’ and then misha stepped back, put his hands on his hips and went ‘that’s the part that’s too gay for you???’ and jensen LOST it

or when that whole underwear thing happened(messy messY MESSY BTW) and then a fan asked a question about what dean and cas would do in rome and misha just said ‘when in rome’ and jensen makes a face like ‘are you serious’ and then misha says ‘you can’t look at me like that anymore, because of what you did!!!!!!’

OH and that whole story about when misha suggested they put jensen in the closet for that cat video....yeah um

and then when jensen was asked to do bisexual finger guns for a photo op and the con goer said ‘he looks bisexual here’ and misha literally said ‘oh he definitely looks bisexual here. i would say he’s actually closer to the gay side of the spectrum’ so..um...make with that as you will

OH MY GOD i’m finally done. wow. WOW. that was a lot. i hope i’ve blown your minds. ty anon i really wanted to talk about this and i hope you’re happy with the outcome!!!!!!

#cockles ask #sexuality spec #jensen is bi #anti rps for ts #cockles #liz answers #ok i have to admit it is crazy i have retained all this info #i hope someone appreciates it #my analysis #mine

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

smoke and fire (02)

word count; 10,121

summary; after getting out to a rough call with newt, resulting in some unpleasant injuries, thomas jumps to a few conclusions.

notes; i don’t have anything to say here.

warnings; reference to violence, reference to gang activity, reference to injury.

“Can I have a cookie?” You motioned to the plate before you, and Fry never looked up from where he was working, nodding his head as he danced to the music in the kitchen, singing loudly to the song on the radio as he prepared everyone a lunch.

Picking up one of the biscuits, you smiled to yourself, before a hand was slapping on yours roughly, the biscuit falling to the floor, and you yelped, rubbing at the stinging skin of your hand as you looked up.

“Hey!” Brenda was cringing a little, seemingly feeling bad for her action, and you stared at the broken biscuit at your feet, before looking back to her. “What was that for?”

“They’re not real Oreos.” Your brows furrowed, looking at the pile once again as you picked up the abandoned one from the floor, walking around her to dump it in the bin, and she shrugged a little. “I filled them with toothpaste, to mess with Chuck. He always wants a snack after he finishes the chores, and Gally has him cleaning the bathroom.”

“So, why does he get messed up Oreos for that?” You questioned, following her to the couch as she grabbed her coffee and wandered away, and you settled in beside her.

“Because every candidate that comes through this house has to be pranked by everyone, it’s tradition. He won’t graduate until he has.”

You grinned, shaking your head fondly at those antics. “Okay, so what has everyone else done so far?”

A wicked look passed over her face, the room crowding with people and it seemed that everybody as gathering discreetly, seeming to know that there was going to be a prank going down. “Gally and Newt teamed up, they had Gally pretend to fall on a wet floor that he didn’t put a sign out on, and Newt faked the injury to be worse than it was. Poor kid freaked out.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, trying to contain your laughter, and she shrugged.

“Thomas got a bag of dark brown dog hair from the groomers and tipped it over the shower door while Chuck was showering, he thought he was losing his hair, and he smelt like wet dog for days. He screamed like a little girl.” You laughed loudly at that one, unable to contain it, even if it was done by someone you hated because there was no denying that it was creative as hell. “Minho put slime in his locker, Frypan put bubble wrap in his boots right before a call, and he was popping with every step, hilarious. I don’t remember the rest.”

She waved a hand, sipping her coffee, and the room went quiet as an exhausted-looking Chuck entered the room, red cheeks from the exertion and sweating a little. The room went quiet, everybody’s gaze falling to Chuck discreetly as he crossed the room, and Fry kept singing.

“Oh, cool, Oreos. Can I have one?”

“Sure, kiddo.” Brenda piped up, and Chuck beamed, picking one up, bringing it t his mouth, before pulling it away, squinting slightly and frowning, and every breath in the room was held. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re kinda’ soft. Do you not know how to sore cookies?” He waited, before a smirk spread over his face. “Are these old? Like, really old? This is a prank, isn’t it?”

Her jaw dropped, and speechless for a moment as she fumbled for an excuse, and you cleared your throat. “They’re all good, I just had one. Probably just the steam from the kitchen.”

“Oh, okay.” He took you at your word, placing the whole cookie into his mouth and biting down, perfectly content for a moment, a few chews in, before his face was screwing up, and he was gagging, spitting the handful back out. “God damn it!”

The room broke out on raucous laughter, almost deafeningly so, and Brenda held her hand up to you, offering a high five for your contribution to the prank, coffee almost slopping over the edge of her mug form the ferocity with which she was cracking up in amusement.

“You all suck!” He spun around, fake anger in his tone as he grinned, pointing at you. “Especially you! I expected more!”

That only made everyone crack up a little more, and while it was still funny, it made you realise that he hadn't expected it form you, because you weren’t a real part of the team yet. You were still an outsider, you weren’t one who was expected to make pranks and join in with team activities, and your laughter dulled a tad. You weren’t angry or bitter about it, just a little disappointed at the flicker you found burning in your chest as you realised Newt had given you hope, and inspiration, his speech from only a week ago still tinging clearly in your mind, and you didn’t like that feeling, because getting connected to a team only made it that much harder when you were inevitably rejected.

He shook his hand off over the trash, a scowl on his face at the half-chewed snack that was scraped away, and Thomas came over, a smile larger than you’d ever seen him wear before, to lock his arm around the younger boy’s neck affectionately, knuckles ruffling his hair as he squirmed.

“Hey, Chuck, keep up this kind of morale and you’ll do great on squad.”

“Maybe he’ll choose to stay with truck!” Gally voiced, the room splitting wit amusement once again as an easy and lighthearted argument broke out, all in joked, about which team was better. Feeling a nudge on your thigh, you looked back to the woman facing you, her brows raised a little, sipping at her drink once again.

“What’s with the look on your face?”

“What do you mean?” You shifted to face her more fully, the crowds dissipating now the excitement was over, all going about their determined tasks, and she shrugged a little.

“You just have this look on your face. Like you’re happy but sad, nostalgic but bittersweet. You get it sometimes, when you’re looking at us all.” You sighed, not realising she was able to read you so well she was just like Newt, smart and intuitive, and you nibbled on your lower lip as you thought about your next words.

“It’s just nice to see you all like this. Happy and confident with each other, you’re a family.” You looked around, finding Newt, his attention focused on a conversation with Minho, and you remembered what he said, sighing a little as your mind was spinning and confused. “Maybe one day I’ll be part of that too, y’know?”

“You’re already a part of this family! You got a shirt with the logo on and everything.” You rolled your eyes at her joke, lips twisted into a gentle smile.

“No, I’m not.” She looked like she wanted or argue, but the look on your face silenced her, clearly not finished speaking. “I haven’t earned my way into this family, you don’t really know me, you don’t know if you want to welcome me yet. I’ll know when I am, if I deserve to be, I’ll know it.”

“You know, that's kind of poetic.” You scoffed at her claim, punching at her arm softly. “I think you’ll fit in perfectly, when that moment comes.”

You grinned, jaw dropping to thank her for her faith in you, before the alarm overhead was going off, and you were silenced, the room flailing to the same state, as you listened for what was happening. Only ambulance was called for, everybody else seeming t let out a sigh of relief, except for your friend across the room, who groaned loudly, before his chair was scraping across the floor as he stood.

“Up and at it, girly, let’s go!” He clapped his hands, and you struggled to unfold your legs to match his pace, his long strides already taking him to the door as you fumbled to follow him, his next words thrown over his shoulder; “I’ll start driving away without you if you don’t hurry up!”

“I’m coming, just wait!” You yelled, pushing through the doors as you grabbed your jacket, pulling the lightweight blue material up your arms, spinning around from backing out backwards, and crashing right into a solid wall. You groaned, stumbling a little, before a sneer was thrown in your direction.

“Watch where you’re going, would you?” The words were growled out lowly, Thomas stepping around you to continue on without waiting, and you huffed at his actions.

“It was clearly an accident!” He didn’t react, continuing to walk away from you, and your eyes were rolling before you could stop yourself. “Oh, get over yourself.”

He still didn’t reply, head held high, and that only irritated you more, as though you weren’t even worth his time, continuing towards the vehicle, engine already running from the second that your door slammed shut, Newt was putting the van into action. Strapping yourself in as he spun out of the firehouse courtyard.

Grabbing the monitor in front of you, the device was pinging with notifications, reading off every update that was coming in from the public and the police about what it was that the two of you were about to head into. It was a mess, you could tell straight from the off as reports continued to come in about what you were facing, skipping through it all to find details on what was actually calling you to the scene.

“Okay, we got a stab wound, it seems. A street fight, started between two guys, friends got involved, pedestrians got involved.”

“Probably some kind of gang activity.” Newt sighed, already seeming to prepare himself for the situation, and you weren’t unfamiliar with that kind of groups around this area, the rougher the neighbourhood got, the more vicious the groups became, and it certainly wasn’t a surprise as you began to pull through the harder-going roads.

There were blue lights flashing through the air before you’d even pulled up, crowds in the street, and Newt hit the brakes as he avoided hitting anybody, fighting to get through the scene. “What the fuck?”

The streets were blocked, you couldn’t even see the centre of the commotion yet, and a set of police officers came fighting through the crowds to find you. “I guess the fight spilled into the street, and cars got blocked.”

The second your window was rolled down, the noise became unimaginably high, screaming and shouting, the sirens of the cars going off and megaphones over the commotion as the police tried to break it all up. “There’s no way you’re getting through here, we can clear you a pathway, but it’ll take a few minutes, and I wouldn't recommend leaving your van in this area.”

You turned to look at Newt, his brow raising as you tried to work out what to do. Spinning your gaze back out across the crowds, you assessed the situation, barely even able to see the centre, and nobody was parting for the cars to get through, trying to create a pathway to get to the centre. The stabbing victim was undoubtedly going to be going to the hospital, and was likely going to be too injured to fight back through the crowds, and so the likelihood and needing the stretcher was raised high.

“You stay with the truck, I’ll go and do an initial assessment, drive up and meet me.”

“There is no way I’m letting you out alone in that. You’ll never make it out.” You huffed, but your lips flicked up a little at the edges form his concern, unbuckling yourself from your seat and edging yourself through the centre console to the back of the vehicle. “Come and sit back down, right now!”

“Someone’s gotta’ go out there, Newt, or we’re going to be answering questions on why we let someone die of a stab wound.” Lifting your bag onto your shoulder, you secured both straps over your arms, tight enough not to fall, and unlocking the back doors from the inside. “I’m already up now, you wanna’ stop me, you’ll have to catch me first.”

Hopping out and into the edges of the crowds you’d pulled up to, you made sure the latch was on, that the doors couldn't be opened unless it was by Newt himself, slamming them closed, and rounding the vehicle find the police officer who’d come to talk to you both in the first place. The blond was glaring at you from the driver's seat, shaking his head at your actions, even though you both knew it was the only way, and somebody’s life was on the line.

The crowds weren’t all that tough to get through at first, following the man in front of you, but as the crowds got rougher and the shouting got louder, you lost sight of him, trying to pick out the colour of his shirt or the hat atop his head, but it was impossible. Jostled from side to side, it got harder to fight your way through the hoards, and you were beginning to use your elbows to nudge people out of the way, fighting your way through.

An elbow, maybe a fist, you weren’t sure, but something solid collided with your side, a grunt leaving you as pain flared up, and you clamped your own arm down over the spot, pushing through the people. It was the first of many, your jaw clenches to deal with it as more spots across your body sparked with patches that would become dull aches in hours, the rioting growing stronger and more intense as the circle of people around you became a more personal addition to the aggressions. You’d have bruises on your shoulders later in the day, the abuse they were receiving as you tried to push through, one hand covering your face, and just like that, you were finding the eye of the storm, the battering you’d been receiving coming to a halt as you broke into the middle.

There was a man on the floor, everybody else being held back by police officers around the small scene, and you swallowed thickly, the barriers looking like they would break at any moment. You couldn't tell who was who, which of the men gathered here were friends of the man, and which ones wanted to kill him, and you were sure that the man who’d down the stabbing was probably in the crowds watching.

Kneeling beside him, you took in the scene, grimacing a little as your knee became sticky, the fabric covering it sticking to your skin with a growing stain as the pool of blood the man had released began to soak into your trousers. “Hi there, I’m a paramedic, and I need you to let me look, okay?”

His head turned to you, a snake on his lips, spitting blood at the ground by your body, and you sighed. Not a surprise, the gangs didn’t often take kindly to groups like firemen and the police, or the paramedics, being that they were mostly going against the law and the public interest, their own form of rebellion, and you did not serve those interests well.

“Alright, listen, you have two choices here.” He huffed, rolling his eyes as his head lay back against the concrete, blood seeping between his fingers from the wound as he coughed and your timer seemed to kick up a notch. “The police are holding these guys back, but I bet you can see at least one person out there who doesn’t want you to get better, am I right? Now, you’ve removed the knife, so you’re bleeding out, and nothing is stopping that, your hands aren’t even in the right place for putting pressure one it. So, either you get your hands out of the way and let me look, or you hope that you bleed to death before that wall breaks and someone comes to finish you off. Which is it going to be?”

He groaned, his body jerking and a cry leaving his lips as his hands fell away, and you nodded your head, a pair of rubber gloves being pulled onto your hands, trying to take a look. It was bleeding far too quickly for you to get any idea about what was happening, thick and dark blood, not the best sign, and you dragged a finger along his skin gently until you found the tear, the shrill cry he made signalling your location, and you measured it as best you could with your finger.

“Well, the good news is, your wound is only about a half-inch across, and it feels pretty clean, there’s no tearing. Smaller knife, huh?”

“Didn’t feel like such a small knife when I was being fucking stabbed.” He hissed, your brow raising, and you let out a light laugh.

“Oh, deadman’s got jokes, huh? That’s good, you’re holding on. for now.”

“If I’m a deadman, then you’re not very good at your job, are you?” His words were wheezed out, and you grinned, lifting his hand to place over the right place, pushing down on it roughly, and he cursed you in another language under his breath, gurgling a little as he did but holding the pressure.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll have you fixed up real quick. You’re going to have to go to the hospital, but I’ll keep you alive ‘til then.” Slipping your bag down your arms, you opened it up, the first set you opened being a leather foldout of tools, unwrapping the knot and letting it fall open, filled with different instruments. With fingers hovering over them, bloody digits picking up a pair of scissors. Lining them up at the edge of his shirt, you looked back up to him, noting the way his eyes were rolling a little. “Hope you weren’t too attached to this shirt, because it’s not going to make it.”

He only grumbled, his hand barely flinching when you lifted it to place on the ground, and the speed at which blood was bubbling up from the gash across his flesh was slowing down, concerningly so. Cutting away his shirt, tanned skin was smeared with drying blood, a frown on your lips, and you hummed to yourself under your breath.

“You still with me there?”

He groaned again, and you hurried your work as much as you could. Grabbing at a handful of bandaging, you left it scattered across your lap, the first package being torn open and beginning to wipe up the blood that was seeping from his injury the rags becoming soaked as you worked, and as you cleared at the darker blood staining his skin, you began to reach the fresh red, lesser as you want, his skin paling around the sever in his flesh. Picking up his wrist, the veins were fading, no longer visible directly under the skin, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth as panic set in.

“Hey, c’mon, now. I need you to hold on for me, alright?” He twitched a finger, the hand laying on the concrete became a fist, and you picked up an antibacterial wipe, fingers shaking a little as you tried to open the packet, and it felt like the screaming around you was getting louder, everything going into overdrive. “Look, my partner will be here in one second, and we’ll get you on the stretcher, and get you to the hospital, okay?”

“Okay.” His words were raspy, laboured through the liquid building in his throat as he tried to speak, but you were relieved to hear anything at all.

“This is going to hurt, alright?” He didn’t respond to that, but he made what you assumed was supposed to be a scream as you wiped over the cut, apologising quietly as he thrashed with what energy he had left, and the movements caused a surge more blood to spew from the wound. Looking up, you found the front of the white van, your ambulance number printed in dark blue lettering across the front, a relieved sigh making itself known from your throat as the driver’s seat was empty, and Newt would be here in a moment. “Alright, we’re going to get you on a stretcher now, alright?”

“‘Bout time.”

You laughed breathily, his head twisting toward you, and a pang of guilt shot through you as you really took a moment to observe him. He couldn't be any older than fifteen, he was still just a kid, and you tried to suppress the nausea that was twisting in your gut at the idea of a kid dying on your watch. “When we do, we’re going to roll you onto your side, just for a split second. When we do, I want you to cough. Hard as you can. It’ll hurt, but we can get some blood out of your throat. Can you do that?”

His hand twitched again, wet breaths as he loved the fist to sit on its side thumb raising weakly to conform he understood in what was the most pitiful and depressing use of a ‘thumbs up’ that you had ever seen. Using one hand to put pressure on the wound, you tried to pack up your kit with the other, cries leaving him as he finally let his youth show through, not enough strength to hide it anymore and clean tears were being left along the dirt and blood on his cheeks from the tears that were rolling free, gasping for breath as he struggled to even breathe.

The shouting took up again, loudly, a sudden combustion of violent and terrified screams, you twisted your head to glance over your shoulder, catching a flash of movement, before a solid hand landed on your shoulder and you were being torn backwards, a yelp on your lips. You were steady, for only a moment, legs flexing underneath you s you were partially lifted from the flood in the grip, before you were landing on your side, your arm crossed under you and the bruised side of your ribs was battered even more, a pained scream, before it was cut off as the side of your head hit the ground to follow.

Your ears were ringing, head pounding from the collision with the pavement and eyes a little blurry as you watched the man who’d dashed forward be tackled by two sides of blue, pinned to the floor by officers as the crowd roared in a combination of thrilled and angered hollers. You groaned, every muscle in your body feeling weak for a moment, and your eyes watered at the burn along your side increased tenfold, now a throbbing agony.

A gentler hand now, rolling you over, and you blinked up at whoever it was, managing to decipher Newt as your vision cleared. His mouth was moving, and you could somewhat understand him, your hands finding the floor again as you pushed yourself to sit up, his hand smoothing around to your back as he helped you.

“Newt, get the kid.”

“Are you okay?” He persisted, the stretcher long abandoned, and you nodded your head, despite the pain it caused.

“It’s a kid, Newt! Get the kid, I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look so convinced, shaking his head a little, before you were pushing him away, taking a moment to catch your breath as it had been forced from your lungs, and he did as told. You heard the cough, and the velcro-sounds of the neck brace being put on him, the young boy groaning as he was moved, and you decided that if he still had the energy, then you did too.

Making a fist, you braced yourself for support, pushing up from the ground and staggering to your feet, feeling a little weak as the pain travelled your body, but you could handle it, and as the kid was adjusted on the strong yellow blackboard for the stretcher, you made your way to the other side. Taking a hold of one handle, and Newt stared up at you. His jaw dropped to argue, a slight shake of your head silencing him, and he frowned again.

“You ready?”

“Are you?” He retorted, and you locked your hands over the other handle, watching as he mirrored your stance, bent at the knees and ready to halt him up onto the trolley.

“Lift on three, alright?” He did the count down, and you bit on your tongue to keep your complaints and pain to yourself, lifting the board with the boy up and securing it onto the folding trolley, trying not to jerk him too much as you strapped him down.

“You know, it’s going to be worse getting out then it was getting in. Lotta’ them don’t want him to leave.”

You had already braced yourself for that, the back of the ambulance only ten metres away, and you had to reach it, strap him in, and get the doors closed, before you were safe and could get to the hospital. Pushing the vehicle along together, you were grabbed at, ducking fists and avoiding kicks as you struggled through. Newt moved first, unlocking the back of the van and rolling down the ramp again, grabbing the front of the truck while you pushed from the back, pulling him up until the wheels locked into their place.

He moved to the front, the engine starting up as you retrieved the ramp and pulled the doors closed, watching as hands were snapped out of the way when you showed no regards for trapping or breaking fingers. The second they were shut, you locked them, jerking a little and trying to catch yourself as the van went into motion.

Leaning over the boy before you, a hand on the top of the vehicle to hold yourself steady, you let out a relieved breath as he blinked, eyes turning to look at you. Your first move was getting a heart rate band on his arm pushing up his sleeve as the shredded material of his shirt hung open, and he didn’t even move as the cuff was placed around his upper arm, squeezing tightly. The machine above you clicked into life as it gained date, a steady and alarmingly relaxed heart rate ringing out, and you were determined to do something about that. Lifting down an oxygen mask and twisting the tank on, you lifted his head, securing the band around his skull and ignoring the throbbing within your own as the mask settled over his mouth.

Now, you could move to the wound. Barely patched up, the quickest job either of you could do in the middle of the riot, you had time to focus now, trying to hold yourself steady as your body trembled angrily and the vehicle swung around corners, sirens blaring as you rushed to the hospital. “Jeez, Newt, can you hold us steady?”

“Sorry! I’m trying!”

You only huffed, meeting his eye in the mirror as he looked back to you, a slight twinkle in them despite it all, raised at the edges to show a smile you couldn't see. Focusing back on the injured kid before you, the wrapping on his stomach was carefully removed, the bleeding somewhat under control, but you were putting that down to a worrying amount of blood loss, his sin going pale, eyelid drooping as he barely clung to consciousness, and you began to try and keep it as well closed as you possibly could while you approached where he could get real care.

Plastic stitches, strong enough to attach to either side of the wound and pull it shit, sticky and resilient on the hold, and they sealed it up enough to stop the copious amounts of blood that had been coming through, narrowing it down to small beads. Grabbing for a larger, cleaner patch of gauze to cover the injury, for now, you doused it with an antibacterial, the product being just wet enough to soak into his wound, before pressing it over his cut and sealing down to his skin, the paper tape fastened it and you let out a sigh of relief.

His heart rate was stabilising, it wasn’t ideal but he was at least reaching a level he could hold, and you slumped down into the seat as you felt newt begin to slow down, picking up the radio on his dashboard to call it in as the roads narrowed and became a little more calm, approaching the hospital. Newt was talking in the front, reciting everything that he could about the boy’s injury, and he wasn’t in much of a state to tell you much about his blood type or allergies right now.

A hand reached out, locking onto your wrist, and your eyes snapped up to find the young boy, his head rolled to the side to look at you, it was a weak grip, a somewhat distant look in his eyes, and you shook your head as you watched him reach up to try and remove the mask. Doing it for him, you removed it carefully, placing it over his chin, and he coughed a little with the sudden change in air consistencies, but it was a healthier and dryer sounding cough than it had been.

“Thank you.” You barely caught the words, your brows furrowing as you took a minute to decipher what he’d said, still not believing it when you worked it out, but the earnest look in his eyes said it all. Brushing some of the sweat and grime matted hair back out of his face, you sighed, placing the mask back over his mouth gently, and trying to offer him the most reassuring smile you could.

“You gotta’ get out of this lifestyle, kid. You’re young enough to change everything, still. You could still get good grades, go to college, do something great.” He stared at you, confusing flittering through dull eyes as you spoke. “You don’t have to still be doing this in ten years, you can stop.”

He shook his head, looking as though he attempted to speak again, and you didn’t allow it, knowing he needed to just rest for the final few moments.

“I know you feel like there’s no way out, and that the other boys in the gang are your family. You need a healthy family, a supportive family, not a family who let you get stabbed. I know a thing or two about taking any family you can get, but you have to find the right one, okay?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, looking away from you, and you were certain that you’d hit a brick wall, but his hand slipped down from your wrist to your own, squeezing tightly as he nodded his head, eyes sliding closed, and you could feel Newt’s gaze flicking back and forth to you as he pulled up to the front of the hospital, clearly having heard your words, but you never looked at him, keeping your eyes on the kid whose life you were saving.

The second that the vehicle stopped, you were out of it, like a flash, unlocking the doors and unrolling the ramp, freeing the stretcher wheels from their locks. Uncuffing the band on his arm and oxygen mask from around his head, it was left to dangle uselessly, cleaned for later so that you could roll him into the hospital. Two nurses met you at the door, taking the stretcher and walking him away, letting you spew off any extra facts you could think of, his eyes sticking to yours for a final moment, before he was disappearing behind a curtain that was dragging shut, and you could finally feel yourself breathe easy again as he fell into expert hands.

You let out a long sigh, turning to face Newt, who was in much the same position as you were; a little battered and bruised, totally frazzled, and in desperate need of a rest now.

“You ready to go?”

“Not ‘til you get checked out yourself.” He motioned a hand along your body, and you looked down at yourself, arms crossing defensively over your chest. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re going to say something like ‘they’re only bruises, Newt’ or ‘it’s not that big of a deal’, well, maybe they are and maybe it’s not, but we’re not leaving until you get it checked. I have this worry you, like, broke a rib, or something.”

You gaped at him, hating how well he knew you, and he smirked as he stared back, raising a challenging brow and crossing his own arms, completing the stare down, the battle of wills, that you were both having. He was just as stubborn as you were, unwilling to back down, and you gave in, rolling your eyes as your shoulders slumped. “Fine, I’ll get my ribs checked, but only if you get that ankle checked.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me ank-”

“So, you didn't get kicked in your bag leg while loading the ambulance? And, you haven’t been favouring the other since we left?” He scowled, throwing an arm over your shoulders and letting the slight limp show as the two of you walked over to the nurses’ desk.

“I don’t like how you turned that one me.”

“What are friends for, huh?” He turned to you, leaning against the counter as you aired for assistance, and he beamed.

“Oh, so you admit that we’re friends, now? You know, that’s one step closer to wanting to stay.” There were more words on his tongue, you could practically already hear them, something about a ‘family’ no doubt, a joke about the conversation he’d overheard between you and the patient, but he was interrupted before he could get the chance. A nurse he knew, sweet eyes and a name tag with ‘Allison’ written on, and she guided you both to separate beds, only a curtain to separate you, and yet as you rested against the cushions, you already felt like you could fall asleep right there, relieved just to get off of your feet.

Your head was hanging, eyes slipping shut a little, and you startled when the curtain was dragged back open, the metal hooks scraping over the bar holding it up, and you jumped, looking up at the doctor before you. Dark hair, tanned skin, and a sweet smile on his lips as he held his hand out to you to shake. His name followed, introducing himself as a ‘Doctor McCall’, and he pulled up a chair, the wheels rolling over the floor as he took a seat before you to let you explain what happened.

Undoing the buttons on your shirt, he shook his head with a bashful smile and a falsely judgemental eyes as he took in the extent of the damage, and as you looked down at the dark purple bruising beginning to spread over your skin, and the swelling taking lace, you realised you may have underestimated the damage. Perhaps it was a good thing to have Newt looking out for you. You weren’t used to that.

He pressed along your skin gently, the rubber gloves on his hands cold and making your twitch, silence going by for a few seconds as he tested your breathing, listened into your chest, and watched you raised and move your arms, trying to be honest about your pain when he asked, and when it flared up.

He decided you didn't have a broken rib, a diagnosis you were grateful for, because the longer it took, the more it felt like Newt may actually have been right. It was simply bad swelling, a collection that would take at least two weeks to start truly dying down, but you were cleared for duty as long as you tried to take it easy. He cleaned the cut along your hairline, paper stitches standing out in a stark contrast to your skin that you soon covered with your hair, and with a few painkillers in you and a schedule for more, as well as a prescription for some bruise cream, you were sent on your way.

Newt was already waiting, staring disdainfully at the contraption on his foot, and regardless of the pain it caused, you laughed loudly as he turned the glare and scowl on you. “I have to wear this bloody thing for a week, thanks to you!”

“I think you look stylish.” You teased, and he scoffed.

“It’s annoying already, and it makes my foot itch. I hate it.” You only rolled your eyes, but even at the awkward steps he was taking with the pressure-holding and padded velcro boot he wore, he was no longer limping, and that was a good thing.

“You know, I’m going to have to drive. You’ll press all the pedals at once with that thing on.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but could clearly tell you were right, and his shoulders slumped even further as you held out your hand, watching him fish through his pockets to find the keys, and handing them over reluctantly.

The ride back to the station was filled with music and quiet chatter, you telling Newt all about this kid and his sense of humour, and the great thing you thought he could one day do, and he was happy to listen, telling you about some of the other patients he'd worked on himself, as the current chart-toppers played quietly in the background, keeping your moods high and upbeat.

You couldn't deny that it was nice, to have someone to consider a friend, someone you could rely on, and with every case you worked - today’s in particular - you were finding yourself trusting Newt more and more. He was someone who made you laugh, he had a sharp sense of humour but gave you the harsh truths you needed, even when you didn’t want to hear them, and yet he still cared about you, that much was clear, and you were finding yourself starting to care about him, too.

You both groaned as you pulled into the driveway, watching the delivery truck for pharmaceutical supplies arrive, and it wasn’t a lot of boxes, but you still had paperwork and the cleaning of the truck to do, as well as unpack all the new supplies into the station medical kits and the van, and you stared at one another for a second. He offered his hands in a battle of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ for it, and yet you knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

“You go inside, and put some ice on your ankle. Do all the paperwork, and I’ll sort the supplies and the van out.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a little at the offer, sitting up in his seat as you parked the van properly and handed him his keys back, both of you hopping out of the car, and walking around together to the front of the vehicle.

“Yes, I’ll go sign for everything and get them to bring it inside, you go find ice.”

He grinned, ruffling your hair with one hand, and you sighed, rolling your head from side to side to loosen the knots forming, before heading over to where the delivery man was waiting. As he began unloading the boxes inside of the garage doors, you checked over the list, ticking off in your head everything that had been gathered, and what they hadn't been able to get a hold of, signing your name at the bottom of several pieces of paper, and handing it back to him. He tipped his cap at you, a sweet older man that always made you laugh, and you waved him off as he left, hands falling to your hips as you stared at the boxes.

You were left with your thoughts, trying to come up with a game plan, and your body was desperately screaming out for a shower, when a loud shout of your name echoed around the bay, loud enough that you’d have been able to hear it from the other end of the station, your head snapping up.

Thomas was staring at you, pure fire in his eyes, that made you gulp, and he stormed toward you with determination, stopping a few feet away. “What the fuck is that?”

“Uh, supplies?”

“Not the fucking boxes, the boot on Newt’s leg.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and everyone in the room who had been working on the trucks and the tables around fell quiet, the silence so tense you swore you’d be able to hear a pin drop. “He has a bad leg, you already knew that, and yet you let him get injured. What kind of fucking partner are you?”

“That’s not fair! We-”

“That’s not fair? No, what’s not fair is knowing that Newt has done everything he can to make you feel welcome here, to try and drag you kicking and screaming into a house you don’t want to be in, and at which you're not wanted, and this is how you repay him?” That stung, your jaw snapping shut as you swallowed thickly, eyes flicking over the other people who had all gone stock still, hoping if they just observed and didn’t get noticed, they wouldn't fall victim to Thomas’ sudden wrath too.

You got it, you truly did. Thomas and Newt were the best of friends, ever since they were kids. Newt had told you the story of how they'd practically been ‘friends since the sandbox’, and you did feel awful for what happened to him, but it wasn't your fault.

“You want to be a part of this team? You want to make it here? Then you need to start acting like a member of a team, and start looking out for people other than yourself.”

He stormed away, spinning on his heel, and your nails were digging into your palms from how tightly your fists were clenched. You weren’t going to make a scene, or breakdown and give him the satisfaction. Instead, you held your head high, making your way to the showers to be alone with your thoughts and wash up, to try and soothe the aching pains along your body, and the aching pain in your chest from his harsh words.

Turning on the hot water, your eyes squeezed shut, letting out a long and shaky breath as you tried to let go of your emotions. You were trembling slightly, unsure whether it was from the way you’d been spoken to, the events of the day, or simply the pain in your body, but dipping your head under the water, you breathed out happily at the hot water beating down against you.

You were tense, muscles stiff and joints practically locked as you tried to relax, and you could have dozed off from the very second that your eyes closed. It was a struggle to simply find the motivation to wash yourself off, water dripping from the tip of your nose and your shin as you looked down, eyelashes feeling heavy and clumpy as you stared at your feet, a tint to the water as the dirt often day washed off.

There was a cut on your knee, brushing along your thigh and your knuckles were torn from your collision with the ground, but luckily, they were all small cuts that would heal very quickly. The bruises would take longer, your side littered with them now, one big bruise that was stretching from your hips to under your arms, fanning around your stomach and as far as your bak in all different shades of splotchy severity.

It hurt to lift your arms and wash your hair, and it hurt even more to scrub your body, stretching muscles gourd and cleaning at the skin. When you finally got out, trying to rub some simple cream into you face and comb your hair, the edge of your t-shirt held between your teeth to keep it up as you stared at the markings in the mirror, a patch wiped in the steam on the glass to be able to see, a tube of cream from your personal medkit open in your hand, and you weren’t sure you even had enough left to cover a patch this large.

You gave it your best go, starting in the middle where it hurt the most and working out toward the edges, eyes lined with tears as your fingers pressed to the skin, rubbing the cream until it was warm and could distribute more evenly across your skin, pain flaring up with each patch you touched. It felt as though it was on fire, even as you lowered your shirt. That pain took a while to rescind, you had pulled on your boots and tied back what you could of the still slightly damp hair, knowing that you’d never be able to hold up a hairdryer long enough to get it dry anyway.

The speakers overhead chirped twice, a melody that was different to the alarm that asked you to go to call, but this one was something that always brought joy, telling you that it was time for you to go home. The end of the day, the next shift coming in, your team leaving as House ‘21’s Team Two came in to take over. You grabbed your hoodie from your locker, no longer needing to look as professional, but knowing that you still weren’t going home anytime soon, you needed to at least be wrapped up warm.

You still had supplies to unpack, and a van to clean, blood dripped on the floor and equipment to be sterilised, and as you left the locker room, you swung by the cleaning cupboard, a bucket of supplies under your arm as you went. A lot of your team were still hanging around as you exited, getting ready to leave as the first of the other team began to trickle in, making sure there were always enough people left here to hand over in case there was a poorly timed call.

The fire teams had it reasonably lucky, each team shared the same squad or truck vehicles, but the ambulances were separate, and so you’d only loathe yourself if you didn’t do it now, and had to come in early before your next shift to sort it.

Unlocking the back doors, you opened it up, unfolding the ramp and lifting each individual bottle out of the bucket to line them up along the back of the truck. The mop bucket was left empty, and you knew you’d have to clean the floors, but you wanted to get everything else done first. Stripping the sheets from the stretcher, still stained with blood, and the plastic sheet underneath too, you grabbed a new wrapping from the hatch over the bed, covering the simple mattress that was laid over the metal bars.

Dropping the dirty rags onto the cold stone floor outside of the van, you grabbed at a bottle of disinfectant spray, shaking it as you went, and popping the top off of it. You sprayed everything, covering the inside of the mask and the outside, every surrounding piece of equipment, anything the man may have touched, or that you might have while wearing bloodied gloves, all the way to the handles on the insides of the doors.

You sprayed the seats, too, knowing that you’d had blood on yourself as you’d sat there, and the smell of bleach and chemicals was making your eyes sting and your throat feel itchy and blocked, but at least it was clean. Dropping that back down, you found some cloth and glass cleaner next, the windows and the mirrors dirty and dusty from the commotion, and you knew they needed to stay clean, so your guidance when driving was never impaired. It was all squeaky clean when you were finishing with it, only the floss left to be mopped down, and then the supplies unstacked, and you placed your hands on your hips as you stared at it all, feeling proud despite the protesting your body was giving up.

You still needed to mop, blood stains and dirt on the floors of the truck, but that was arguably the easiest part of your job, and so you scanned your eyes around for the mop bucket once again. There were several buckets still lay out, disinfectant, bleach, different germ killers, and some that you’d simply selected for their nice smell, and you added a splash of each to the bucket, a concoction you’d been using for years in many different formations from house to house.

Grabbing it by the handle, you held it in both arms, heading through to the rec-room, and dipping your head in a nod with a smile as you watched Newt and Minho head out, the former of who’s hand raised up in a wave as he continued to walk out with his friend, never stopping his chatter.

Placing the mop bucket under the hot water canteen, it rested of its own free will on the counter, and you leaned back a little, taking a small break. Fry was still looking through the fridge, grabbing the tupperwares of food he’d made but never had a chance to eat, his dinner for the night most likely, before nudging it shut with his foot and offering you a bright grin as he left. Brenda was singing loudly from the locker room, the new team beginning to filter in, and fill the space, and as you heard the cupboard door behind you open, you jumped, snapping back to attention and unsure of when your eyes had even closed.

Taller than you, a good free inches on your height, you turned to look up at the curly-haired boy standing beside you, watching as he retreated from within with a cereal bar, unwrapping it as he nudged it closed, peeling it open and turning to face you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just a little tired, ready to head home. Not much left to do, now.” It was a small lie, only brief, because you’d probably still be here for a couple of hours with the pace at which you were moving and the workload that was left, and you turned to flip the tab on the hot water, deeming it to be enough as the sweet smell of the floral mix you’d added to the bleach drifted around the room.

“I meant, how are you doing.” His gaze dropped down to your side, the side you were holding a somewhat limp arm at, before coming back up to meet your gaze, and taking a bite of the snack in his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m a candidate. Ninety percent of my time is spent schlepping around doing all the chores. I saw you cleaning the trucks while I was going through some paperwork, you’ve been favouring your right side. You must’ve gotten the other side beat up pretty bad.” You raised a brow at his observations, impressed by how much he’d managed to deduce, but he dipped his head, a small smile on his face. “Also, after Thomas yelled at you, Newt chewed his ear off for, like, five minutes in front of everyone and said you got hurt too.”

“And here I was thinking you were just that observant.” You tutted, leaning down to pick up the bucket, and Chuck jumped in, taking it for you, instead, and you mumbled a thank you, walking along beside him.

“You know, you could have come and asked me for help. I didn’t think you’d still be around cleaning this late.”

“Well, someone has to do it, right? It’s best to just get it done, and then I can go home and relax.” He placed the bucket down at your feet as the two of you came to stand before the opened truck, and you grabbed for the mop, dunking it into the hot water and swishing it around a little.

“Yeah, but, you’re hurt. I could have helped.”

“It's my job, Chuck. Not yours. You already have enough on your plate.” You walked up the ramp, beginning to swipe the wet end across the floor, stains and muck smearing as you went to reveal the polished metal underneath. He tucked his hands into his pockets, shoulders rising and falling a little.

“It feels like you can’t ask anyone to help, right?” You paused, looking up at him, and his face was painted neutral, but an understanding look shone in his eyes. “I get it. When you feel like you’re more just colleagues than friends, everyone is nice to you but asking a favour of them still seems more like it’d be a burden on them. An inconvenience. You’re on the team, but you’re not on the team. That’s how you feel right?”

“Did you talk to Newt?”

He laughed, shaking his head, the young boy’s curls bouncing as he did. “No, he wouldn't get it. Newt is great, but he’s on the team. I’m just a candidate, they still worry I might drop out, or have my experience and transfer to another house instead. They don’t trust me yet. Not fully. I think you feel that way, too.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You paused, rinsing the mop and ringing it clean to wipe at the floors again, pausing to lean on the handle a little. “They like you more than me, though.”

“Maybe, but I still have more in common with you right now than I do any of the others. We can be in this together.” That brought a smile to your face, your heart warming a little bit, because it did feel nice to finally have someone else to relate to, and so you found yourself smiling, figuring you might as well add a nod in agreement at this point.

“Alright, Chuck. We’re in it together.”

He laughed a little, reaching out one hand to smack against yours in a high five, your giggles mixing with his at the simple action, before he stepped back once again. “I’d stay with you and help out, but I have dinner plans with my mom. I can call and rearrange, if you do want some help, though? I feel like that’s what I should do.”

“Go to dinner, Chuck.”

“But, friends don’t leave other friends to clean alone when they’re hurt.” He sighed, a puppy-dog look crossing over his features.

“I will be fine, I swear. Go enjoy your family time, if it gets too much, I’ll just stop and leave it.” He made you promise to do so, his pinky held out in a way that made you laugh as you sealed the bond by wrapping your finger with his.

He took a few steps backwards, waving as he went, before facing the right way once again. You were left to watch him take his few steps toward the door, and you turned back to the job at hand, you kept up with the mopping, trying to make sure the floor was spotless, and using your foot to push the head of the mop along as you did, trying to ease the ache on your arms.

A knock against the edge of the ambulance, the metal ringing loudly, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you set the mop back down. “Thought I told you to go home, Chuck?”

Spinning around, your smile quickly dropped, the person looking up at you not being Chuck, and you tried not to frown as Thomas stared up at you. “It’s, uh, not Chuck.”

“I see that.”

He pursed his lips, a look more like a grimace on his face as he stepped back, letting you walk down the ramp slowly to stand before him, and he rolled on the balls on his feet a little as the space between you died with awkward tension. As the moment dragged out, you felt even more on edge than usual, watching as he let his eyes flick over the rest of the open space, avoiding you entirely.

“So, what do you need?”

“I wanted to apologise for shouting at you.” His gaze finally returned to you, an honest look on his face as he did, and you sighed trying not to seem quite too aggressive in your stance as he offered the first apology between you both. “Newt said you got hurt too, and that I shouldn’t have gone off at you, so, I’m sorry.”

“Right.” You hummed, not sure of what to say now that he had, and you lifted an arm, holding on the elbow on the other side, slightly defensive as you tried to steady your own anxiety. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Can I see?”

“What?” Your eyes narrowed on him, and he sighed with a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

“The bruises. Can I see how bad it is?”

“I’m a paramedic, Lieutenant. I know how to diagnose bruises, and I had it checked out at the hospital, I’m perfectly fine.” You turned away from him, taking barely a step before his hand was wrapping around upper-arm, and turning you to face him again. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was on your bad side, and it hurt a little bit as you spun. He seemed to sense the pain, maybe it was the wince on your face, but he let go.

“Can you stop making it so hard to extend an olive branch, or whatever? It’s my job to know how badly injured you are so I can try and make your workload lighter. I’m just trying to be nice.” He growled, the word coming out through gritted teeth, and you swallowed a little, a single jolt of guilt running through you.

Turning to your side, you lifted the edge of your jumper and shirt, shivering a little at the cool breeze that had brushed over your skin as you did. He hissed under his breath, reaching out a little but never touching you as he took it in, before nodding his head. He looked at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning up from your eyes to your hairline, squinting a little at the mark there.

A hand landed on your cheek, high enough that his thumb could push almost-dry strands out of the way, turning your head to the side, and your jaw dropped as he did, feeling his thumb smoothing over your skin lightly. Pulling your head away from him, he dropped his hand back to his side, caring his throat, and that same awkward tension rose between you again. “They’re pretty bad.”

“Well, they’re not sunshine and flowers.”

You swore you almost saw amusement flicker across the blank look on his face for just a second, but you'd never be sure, and so you simply folded your arms and tried not to clench too much. “You want some help carrying it all inside? You can finish mopping, and then we can put the stuff away together.”

“That’s really not n-” He raised a brow at you, challenging the refusal of the help and hidden olive branch he was offering you. “Fine, yeah. That would be nice.”

He only dipped his head, moving to the boxes in the corner, he opened up the first, lifting out rolls of bandages and bringing them back over as you inched the bucket down the ramp once again. He brought them over, stepping up alongside you and resting the box on the gurney as he began to unpack the contents quietly.

“Oh, the gauze! That goes in t-”

“I know where it goes.” He muttered, your jaw snapping shut, and you huffed a little. He never cast you a glance. “I’ve worked here a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

You only hummed, bending enough to pick up the blood soaked sheets from the floor and take them to the washers. He didn’t spare you a glance as you informed him of your plans, letting you walk away in silence as he unpacked boxes.

It wasn’t ideal, it certainly wasn’t comfortable, but at least it was something. It was the longest the two of you had ever been in one another’s company without it becoming a screaming match, and so it was a step beyond simply despising one another, finding some kind of common ground.

#thomas #thomas the maze runner #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #SAF #smoke and fire #tomuary #tom-uary #tommy month #thomas x reader smut #thomas/reader smut #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien/reader smut

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shhhlikeme · 3 years

Text

“Light Work”

Hawks x Fem!Reader

-> 2.97k words 💘

The Secret’s Out!

Valentine’s Exchange Gift For Nicole💘💘💘 ( @vixenpen ) 💘💘💘 love u!

Exchange Organized by The Lovely @ayocee !!! ❣️

Prompt: Hawks Valentine’s date that ends in smut

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, fluff + smut

A/N: This is my first time writing for BNHA!!! So cool - It was fun, hope it’s sufficient:)

Song: Unthinkable by Alicia Keys

The chilled red wine cooled your warm tongue as you emptied the remains of your glass.

Licking your now red-stained lips, to get rid of the fogginess you blinked at the laptop screen in front of you.

“Baby,” you called as you poured yourself a third glass. “Can you show me the sunset again?”

Displayed on your cute laptop screen is a FaceTime call—one that you certainly could have answered on your iPhone but you needed the visual to be as big as possible tonight.

When your question reached the other side of the call, the screen that once showed you in real-time: the intensity of the Pacific ocean in spring from a birds-eye view, tilted like a rollercoaster. Then, your eyes were met with the awe-inspiring visual that is the Pacific sunset from the point of view in the centre of the ocean. It’s shot from a perfect perspective: a perspective too low for a plane to capture, yet too high for a boat to capture. It is a perspective only attainable by a certain pro hero of yours…

“Wow...” your lips moved autonomously, even before you had time to register the thought— but as are the effects of your favourite bottle of red.

Your eyes bore into the gorgeous planes of the orange and pink horizon. You unknowingly let your cheek rest on your closed fist, soaking in the rarity of this wonder. Admiring it.

“You like it, beautiful?” Called a loving voice, taking you out of your trance for a second.

“Of course.” You answered.

“I—“

“Please. Don’t give me that cheesy ‘it’s not as beautiful as you’ line that’s it’s in every lame movie,”

The soft joyous chuckle of your boyfriend’s laugh reverberated through the speakers, travelling right from his lips to your heart: effectively warming it in its entirety.

“I was actually going to say to say that I wish I could bring your tipsy ass up here.” He chuckled again. “This mission would sure be a lot more fun if your legs were wrapped around me. You know: pretending to drop you so you’d hold on tighter.... your ass in my hands...”

“Hm,” you smirked, glad that your new boyfriend didn’t plan on giving you one of the cheesy lines most guys did. “I agree.”

“Yeah?” Your boyfriend inquired, voice rising with interest. “You really are getting tipsy, aren’t you? Usually you’d kill me for even saying that,”

“Well...Under these circumstances.. maybe I wanna be nice tonight....” you weren’t aware of the sexual innuendo entering your tone when you said that either.

But your boyfriend, however-- picked up on it right away.

He bit his lip bottom. “...how nice?”

“Hmmm… Nice enough to balance out the awfulness that is: my boyfriend having to leave me in the middle of our first Valentine’s Day date?”

Hawks sighed. “Mmmmm I know. I know, baby, and I’m sorry….”

You frowned. “Why are you apologizing? It was incredible while it lasted and we were able to get through most of it without interruption, so I have to be thankful for that knowing your job. Plus, It’s not like it’s your fault—“

“But I’m apologizing anyway. I wanted to finish the date and be there with you... I wanted to see your face when you saw how I decorated my apartment for you,”

Your eyes left the passing sunset so that you could take in the over-the-top but romantic-as-all-hell way in which your man decorated his apartment for you for Valentine’s Day.

From where you laid atop the blankets on his King sized bed, you could see the shiny balloons everywhere; some on the floor moving around because the window is open and the air is blowing them slightly. You could also see the dozens of candle flames fluttering with the wind and making the room smell heavenly--you could also see the real rose petals everywhere, even underneath you on the bed, as well as the silver and red streamers on the ceilings that could not easily be reached by anyone but your Hawks. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your cooler-than-thou boyfriend sprinkling girly rose petals everywhere as your boyfriend continued speaking.

“--It’s annoying because this mission is not even anything big, either. Just scouting for Selkie while his crew is out. It’s shitty new Hero work, to be honest, but the kids are in final exams right now I guess. Either way, I’d much rather be finishing the amazing date I had planned with you. I mean at least I got to take you to that yakiniku spot, but—“

“—That food was amazing, though,”

Keigo returned your interruption—though his voice dropped, speaking slowly. “—Your dress was amazing.” 🤤 he let out a sexily breathy chuckle, not missing a beat.

Clearly, it had been something on his mind judging by how quickly that response came out.

This time, when you heard your boyfriend’s sensually connotation chuckle; warmed more than just your heart.

Acting on impulse, and maybe a little bit on alcohol, too, your hand not holding the wine glass fiddled with the end of the short but very expensive-looking dress you wore. It is a form fitting maxi and, yes, it is red.

You made sure to pick a red that perfectly matched the colour of your Pro hero’s wings. Ironically enough, it matched the colour of the wine you’ve been drinking tonight too.

Needless to say, you ruffled Hawk’s feathers in the best way when he picked you up earlier tonight. He was practically salivating and if he didn’t have reservations you two would have never made it out the house tonight. You made him behave himself until after dinner even though you wanted to pounce on him all the same. The look of your man in a tux, God damn. The wait always made it better, though.

So you two did wait. And that ‘later’ that you two unspokenly promised each other over heated glances at dinner is…. now.

However, this “now” had been tortuously ripped away from you both when your man got a Hero call just as he was simultaneously fumbling with his house keys and undoing his belt. You avoided pouting or crying about his departure by indulging in your favourite wine that your boyfriend had bought, the one chilling near the bed just for you two.

“You liked it?” You asked about your dress, your voice matching the sensual aspect of Tamaki’s.

Your man groaned through the speakers. “Your legs........your ass......” is all he answered before he fantasized over there,

You watched the screen as Hawk’s right-wing that was visible in the FaceTime: straightened. “God, babe...If I wasn’t on this mission...”

“—If you weren’t on this mission, what?” You inquired coyly, unaware of the fact that the hand of yours that was playing with the dress’s hem had now begun brushing your thigh, tingling your skin lightly. The tingling was only intensified by the breezy air that flowed through the opened windows in Hawk’s apartment. It was complemented only by the sound of the breeze that took up the speaker because the #2 hero was calmly soaring through the air.

“If....” Keigo continued, “If I wasn’t on this mission staring at this fucking ocean.... then I’d....”

Your fingers pushed your skirt up—just barely.

“You’d...?”

“I’d be staring at another ocean, one I like much more--tongue-fucking you so deeply you’d be pooling around me, babe. Just the way I like you to.”

Your breath hitched when those travelling fingers on yours pressed against the outside of your g-string: prodding lightly against the fabric that covered the ocean your man was talking about.

Upon hearing your breath hitch, the FaceTime video camera scrambled upward, your gorgeous boyfriend coming into view as he soared through the sky. Behind those transparent yellow goggles, his eyes were wide. Not because he was surprised, oh no, on the contrary: your boyfriend knew just how much you wanted him to make you scream tonight based on the way you looked at him over dinner...that wasn’t it.

His eyes widened more out of jealousy: recognizing the sound of your impending orgasm—even if very far—as accurately as he can recognize danger on a Hero mission. “Aw, you gonna play without me, baby?” He sounded smug, not sad.

“Call it getting a head start...” You answered quickly, knowing that your boyfriend’s mission shouldn’t last longer than a few hours. That just meant you’d be able to take a nap in between that would hopefully give you enough energy to keep up with your insatiable, sex-God of a man when he gets home.

“Okay, beautiful. Then start.” He answered coolly—sexily.

Your entire body responded in the feeling of increased sensitivity, irrevocably turned on by your boyfriend’s demands.

And he knew that.

You stretched so that you could set your wine glass on the bedside table, giving your man a great view of your ass in that red dress.

The same red dress that’s been living in his horny thoughts rent-free for the past two hours.

He groaned. “Do that again and I’m losing my job today,”

You smiled prettily as you returned to the laptop camera, getting comfortable by suckling on your middle & pointer finger gently.

“Shit, Y/N...I love when you’re eager baby,”

You nodded, staring at your boyfriend through the screen as he flew through the sky. You did this as you awaited instruction patiently. As always.

Hawks, who had originally been using his back camera-only in order to avoid getting distracting from enemy-watch, tried to remind himself why he did that as he struggled to keep hold of his phone.

On his end, the sight of you looking so needy and sucking on your own fingers so that they were wet when you plunged them into the heat that—just the thought makes him drool—proved too much for him.

And you haven’t even started yet.

His dick hardened just from looking at you.

“No, Hawks. Can’t.” Hawks mumbled to himself, obviously putting his phone back down and switching the camera so it wasn’t facing him again. You were met with the pretty water once encore, the waves now sparkling due to the warm sunset reflecting off of them.

“I can’t watch, love.” Hawks stated, disappointment evident in his tone. “But don’t stop. Close your eyes and lay on your back.”

Fingers still in your mouth, you listened.

“Spread those legs, baby.”

You listened.

“Hike up that dress but don’t.take.it.off. That job’s for me. You hear me?”

You nodded, even though neither of you could see each other.

Hawks, being the good hero that he is, used all of his mental strength not to peek. He had to complete this mission.

You always listened anyway.

As always.

“Pull down the straps of your dress--just the straps. So that your tits are out. Are you wearing a bra?”

You were going to move your finger to answer before your man did it for you,

“Fuck, no you’re not...” he said in a strained voice. He recalled how your perky nipples pressed against the sinful dress’s red fabric in the car because you were cold. This was before Hawks had given you his jacket that you wore the rest of the night. “God imma lose this job....” Keigo muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Mm,” you answered around your own fingers.

“Make small circles around inner thighs, baby. Right around the prize. Use the hand that isn’t currently filling-in for my cock.”

You moaned, doing just as he says with the visual of your man’s perfect dick replacing your fingers in your mind right now. You felt your pussy throb.

Hawks inwardly cursed his job when he heard you moan, pleased with himself but subconsciously deliberating just how much shit he’d get in if he left this mission post right now...

After a few minutes, when Hawks heard your breath pick up, triggering him to get harder, he licked his dry lips and said,

“Mm, now move your thong to the side. Slide those fingers up and down your lips baby, the same way I do with my tongue. You know how.”

“Mmff,” you moaned, eyes still closed and still licking around your own fingers. You pretended you were cockwarming the #2 hero’s heavenly length.

“Good, baby. Now switch hands.”

You listened immediately—using the soaked fingers in your mouth to glide up and down your soaking pussy lips. They slid even easier than your other hand did and since—in your head—those fingers were stepping in as your man’s dick, it somehow felt even more pleasurable than your other hand.

You moaned, arching your back slightly. “O-oh,”

Against his better judgement, Keigo was unable to stop himself from looking down at his phone when you moaned like that, immediately dropping the device when the sight of you running your hand between your pussy lips with that sexy dress bunched at the waist came into vision.

“Fuck,” Hawks cursed, flying down quickly to grab his phone just before it hit the water.

He checked to make sure that him dropping it hadn’t disturbed you, and then he let out a sigh of relief when he realized he hadn’t. You were still doing as he said with your eyes closed, and obviously having a good time doing it too.

Unable to fight his desire anymore, Tamaki’s eyes darted around, scanning the horizon and the ocean for anyone within a 100-mile radius.

When he deemed the coast, quite literally—clear—he held his phone with one hand and stuffed his hand inside his pants, grabbing his overexcited dick.

“Insert one finger baby. You pick.” Keigo directed--his own finger encircling the tip of his dick. He resisted a groan that begged to be released.

“Good. Now, insert the other. No, nice and slow baby. Niceeee…. and slow,”

You did--and he copied your movements, a sense of pride washing over him that he had such a beautiful, absolutely stunning lover.

***

You listened to your man for the next ten or so minutes... trying your best to hold off your orgasm as your stomach coiled in the best way. The combination of your fingers; the sound of your man’s deep voice giving demands; the thought of his dick inside you instead; and the way that the wind entering his apartment via the open windows contrasted the heat of your wet vagina; wow…. all of it just felt too incredible.

“I’m close, baby...” you whispered hastily. “Can I touch my—“

Just as you were about to ask if you could pinch your nipples in order to throw yourself over the edge, you were erotically surprised by someone--or should you say someTHING --doing it for you.

Your eyes shot open, and then your back arched, even more, when you realized that the thing that touched you is nothing more than a red feather.

It encircled your nipple pleasurably, another coming from the window and encircled the other nipple.

Your toes curled. The feathers were the same colour as your dress.

“Ahh, Keigo!” You moaned, not even waiting for permission before you sped up the pace of your fingers. Your eyes squeezed shut on their own fruition.

There was a smirk in your boyfriend’s voice. “I assume they’re there, baby?”

“Ngh.....” you sped up the pace even more, your short fingers just barely hitting your g-spot; the g-spot that your man’s dick can always reach. You whimpered.

The feathers around your nipples whirled around your body whimsically, filling in for what your fingers were just short of in other ways:

travelling down the line that centres your breast...

tracing your neckline...

moving down to encircle your ankles...

“Oh my God, H-Hawks, yes-s, ah....!”

The soft-touch of the material’s feathers felt so good. No, they weren’t Hawks’ strong hands, and the two small entities just ghosted over your skin... barely locatable, but it is the fact that they were red and they were your MAN’s —your man who is physically cities away right now—that made this indescribably amazing for you.

He is cities away: yet he is here. This is him.

“Hawks…” you sighed, getting closer and closer,

“Y/N....” Hawks sighed back roughly: deeply.

Not that you could see but his eyes were half-lidded as he watched you get off. Seeing you be assaulted by the feathers he sent drove him absolutely mad. This had to be the sexiest things he’s ever seen from afar.

“I love you, Y/N.” Your man said softly, biting his lip and forgetting his demands because right now he needed to cum. The sight of you like this was too much to bear. Hawk’s picked up the pace of his own hand on his cock.

When the feathers returned to your nipples from your belly button, you let out a wanton scream moan, your white-hot orgasm ripping through your body as violently as the Pacific waves that were crashing underneath your boyfriend right now.

Hawks’ orgasm followed soon after, your name falling from his lips as he just-barely pulled his pants down in time so that he released in the ocean instead of in his suit pants.

You both calmed your breathing as you came back down to earth. The feathers fell next to you as if they were sleeping peacefully.

After a few moments passed and you found the strength to open your eyes, rolling over to look at your Hero. He matched your semi-satiated expression so you could guess that he had found sweet release as well just now.

Keigo knew you well enough to know that you needed a nap at this time, just as you usually did post-orgasm. Therefore, he wasn’t surprised whatsoever when you whispered in parting:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Be home soon so we can do...this... in person.”

“Of course.” Hawks answered. Then, he couldn’t resist adding a cheeky pun.

🕊

“I’ll fly there if I have to.”

#Valentine’s exchange💝#my hero academia #bnha imagines #hawks x reader #hawks x black!reader #bnha headcanons #keigo tamaki #keigo tamaki x reader #bnha scenarios #mha hawks #mha #mha headcanons

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nyrandrea · 3 years

Text

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin!

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic.

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time.

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip.

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count.

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?”

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall.

He decided to push it just a little bit further.

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?”

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop.

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?”

He shrugged.

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.”

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?”

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?”

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place.

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors.

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background.

Suddenly Gregory felt very small.

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself.

He merely nodded in agreement.

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake.

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.”

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself.

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded.

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity.

“To Fazer Blast!”

xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest.

“Could you stop fidgeting?”

“But I’m practicing-”

“Stop. Fidgeting.”

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen.

“So...do I just join a team or...?”

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him.

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.”

She seemed to pause for a moment.

“You do, like, know the rules, right?”

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Uh...sure?”

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.”

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in.

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.”

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?”

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place.

In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past.

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees?

“Hey Grogery!”

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him.

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?”

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling.

“It’s Rob.”

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.”

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even?

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter.

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued.

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes.

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own.

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them.

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought.

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?”

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it.

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!”

The pimples popped.

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right?

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant...

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him.

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider.

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner.

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms.

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?”

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.”

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down.

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.”

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?”

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character?

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes?

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?”

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one.

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head.

“Huh?”

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today.

“And what?” she prodded.

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.”

“That’s because I’m not!”

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level.

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper.

“Sure...?”

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.”

“Prove yourself?”

“Yup!”

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back.

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought.

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered.

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously.

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him.

xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!”

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit.

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there.

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...”

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?”

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.”

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that.

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?”

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!”

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.”

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You lost it, didn’t you.”

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question.

“Yep.”

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away.

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?”

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?”

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.”

xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it.

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills.

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour.

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”

The crowds erupted once more.

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be-

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point.

“I say let’s rock out!”

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades.

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself.

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right?

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn.

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close.

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long.

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now.

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic.

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up.

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list.

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow.

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in.

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror.

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings!

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest.

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back.

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him.

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply.

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day.

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that.

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention.

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed.

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over.

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together.

“Uh...hey...”

It took him a moment.

“Vanny?”

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth.

“You remembered!”

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

She paused and knelt down.

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.”

This caught him by surprise.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.”

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother.

“Ooh! What’s that?”

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard.

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up.

“Oh wow! Can I see?”

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no.

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it.

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?”

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.”

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!”

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room.

“I want to but I can’t yet.”

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?”

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.”

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated.

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand.

“I know a way you can give it to him.”

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it.

“Uh...how?”

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.”

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time?

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.”

Gregory raised an eyebrow.

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“That’s cuz it’s secret!”

Okay, well that made sense.

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?”

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance.

He looked back up at Vanny.

“What about my mom?”

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?”

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Screw the rules.

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away.

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

#fnaf security breach #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanny #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #montgomery gator #fanfiction #my writing #fnaf sb

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years

Text

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #45

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Stoner Brett (The New Rachel)

Brett Bukowski sits on the steps of the stairwell that lead out to the courtyard. He’s a few stories up, rolling his next joint and being quick about taking a few drags. It’s quiet up here most days, even when school isn’t out, and kids are racing between classes. The teachers rarely use the outside stairwell, and it’s the only place, other than underneath the bleachers - though that has thoroughly been claimed by the Skanks, a group of girls he has no desire to mess with - that Brett can lite up. A couple of deep inhales, and he’s feeling good, closing his eyes, and feeling that relaxed high. Life is good.

That is until he hears voices on the stairwell below him… He hurriedly stomps out his joint, bummed that he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, and annoyed that he’ll have to finish his stash at home (a place he does not like to be). Looking down between the cracks, he sees two people - two dudes - sitting on the steps below. They don’t seem to notice him as they get into their conversation.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” the first one says. Brett recognizes him as Kurt Hummel - that weird kid who dresses funny. Brett scrunches his nose a little, he’s not a huge fan of Kurt Hummel. Kurt’s always snapping at him. But Kurt’s voice is gentle in tone as he talks softly. “All of this… You always find new ways to surprise me.”

“Well, I try,” the second guy says. The angle isn’t very good - but he believes it’s the dude who does all the courtyard performances. He doesn’t remember his name - something girly. He thinks the dude is totally gay for doing those performances all the time - but it is nice to have background music while he smokes up his afternoon joint. There’s a long pause as the two of them press their foreheads together. Dude. Maybe they are actually gay. Cool. “So… are you scared about going?”

Brett has no idea what they’re talking about, but for some reason, he feels compelled to listen more.

“I think so but…” Another short pause. “You’re right, I need to be there. This place has always been so confining, but it almost feels safer to stay, you know? I mean - what if I go and I fail? What if I go and I don’t make it and I’m forced to come back here? What if…”

“What if you go and make it and all your dreams come true?”

They just stare into each other’s eyes - like some sappy daytime soap opera Brett’s mom always watches.

“I love you…” Kurt says. Brett rolls his eyes, ready to go back to minding his own business when Kurt does something Brett doesn’t expect. He moves in to kiss the second guy. And not some little peck either - it starts a little slow, but they sure do move into macking on each other pretty quick. Damn, did the gay escalate, like, a thousand percent. “We probably shouldn’t do this here…” Kurt’s voice is high and breathy.

The second dude doesn’t let up, though, sucking at Kurt’s neck. This is becoming hot, like, really hot…

“Why? No one’s here,” the second guy says, not letting up. They’re back to full on making out - and there’s totally tongue involved. Brett’s pants are beginning to feel a little tight the longer he watches. He can’t seem to tear himself away, though, especially as the second dude’s hand begins to roam, landing in Kurt’s lap and… well shit, Brett’s getting himself a little show isn’t he?

“Wait, wait, wait…” Kurt pulls away, hurriedly.

The second dude is one horny little dude - chasing Kurt’s lips. “You really want me to stop?” he teases.

They kiss again, another moment longer.

“Are your parents home?” Kurt asks, this time he begins to stand as he pulls away.

“You know they aren’t.”

“Good. I think we should say goodbye properly.”

He holds out his hand for the second dude to grab, and in a flash, they’re racing down the steps.

Dude…they’re probably gonna go fuck.

Brett sits there, thinking about the image of two guys making out, and how it totally had turned him on. He gets out his stash so he can make himself another joint, though stops to consider the pot for a moment. Is getting high making him gay? An image of Missy Goleski in that tight halter top, the roundness of her cleavage on clear display pops into his head. Boobs. He lets out a giggle as he finishes rolling his joint. Nah, he’s not gay. Dudes were still totally hot though.

#99 perspectives #s.o. writes things

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falloutjay · 3 years

Note

Okay Clyde Donovan x flirty reader

Clyde tries to flirt with reader but it doesn't work, not because she rejected him or anything, but because she out flirts him and asks him out instead.

Two months later, This seems to take a poll on Clyde's masculinity like sometimes they fight over movies and by times Clyde is onboard with the romance movie, Reader changes her mind and wants to watch the action movie...And Clyde makes it slip by accident he wanted to see the romance movie, he is caught by the guys.

Or sometimes, he'll catch us talking to others guys with reader's massive charm. He almost goes Burn (y'know from Hamilton) but someone stops him from burning their memories away and convinces him to talk her instead.

He does, reader and Clyde talk things out, and things get better.

Thank you very much for your patience and for your request, I hope you enjoy it. You inspired me to make a flustered Clyde gif. It's sadly still WIP 😊

Clyde x Flirty!Reader

"And yeah, you know, that's why they call me the backbone of the team." Clyde said, smiling slyly at you and flexing his small muscles a little bit.

You just chuckled while biting your lip, contemplating if you should really say what was on your mind. "Well...I sure don't mind you being my backbone."

Your laugh was ringing in Clyde's ears. He didn't fully grasp what you just said, which is why he was just starring with you with a friendly expression, while his brain tried processing your words.

From afar the guys watched him. Craig shook his head, while the other three guys, Token, Tweek and Jimmy laughed.

"Ehm.. yeah.. so... Eh... What were we talking about?" Clyde was perplexed.

He wasn't sure what to do.

He was no stranger to flirting and he would say he's pretty good at it, but every time he talked to YN, his brain went straight out of the window.

"I don't know. But I know what he could do instead." You smiled devilishly and there was this mischievous glint in your eyes.

"And that would be?" Clyde asked, leaning over the cafeteria table you were seated at. He tried playing it cool again.

"You know, how about you..." Your index finger started drawing little circles on the back of his hand.

"Come over to my house, my parents are out of town, we just order some food, watch a movie and get down and dirty." Just like perfect timing, the bell rang, and you got up.

"You got my number, just text me if that sounds good to you." You smiled and started walking to your next class.

Clyde just sat at the table, almost like he was a statue since he couldn’t move at all.

"Clyde, move your ass, we don't wanna be late." Token said and shook him slightly.

"I told you they are something different."

Craig said and the guys just laughed about his misery. Meanwhile the brunette just managed to stutter.

"B-b-bu...but that... That was supposed to be my line."

Nether the less, Clyde still went over that weekend. He had a great time but at the back of his mind, something kept occupying his thoughts.

And it was this conversation you two had in the cafeteria.

It was just bothering him.

He was supposed to leave you stuttering. He was supposed to make those jokes. He was the man, he was supposed to flirt with you and make you giggle.

But then you just turned it around and all that. It made him wonder... Was he maybe not man enough?

Well, his friends always told him you were just a very different kind of person. But he never expected this.

After meeting up, they were pretty much seen as a couple by the whole school. Rumors spread fast, especially when Cartman gets his hand on any juicy gossip.

Walking down the hallway with a very flustered Clyde was amusing to you. The pink tint on his cheeks was always present and it only motivated you more to keep it always visible. Be it a dirty joke, some stupid pick-up line delivered in your most flirtatious voice or just touching him.

Two months passed by like this and the biggest problem for Clyde despite being out flirted every time by you was that he felt embarrassed in front of his friends.

He still pretended to be this cool and masculine boyfriend. His façade only crumbled when it came to the discussion of movies.

Whenever it came to what movies you two were going to watch he kept pretending to not like your suggestions.

“Too boring.” “Too cheesy” “Too girly”

When he felt like he played enough around or when it was a movie, he would actually like watching, he just agreed.

”Yeah, okay babe, we can watch ‘To all the boys I’ve loved before’. I don’t mind.” But then to his surprise, you would just laugh and smile evilly.

“Mhm.. I changed my mind. I’d like to watch Kill Bill.” You giggled and the guys would sometimes just encourage you, saying you had great taste.

“But I thought we were… We wanted to watch that movie?” By his expression, the guys could just easily tell that he was disappointed.

“O-Oh poor Cl-Clyde. G-G-G-ot the hots for P-P-Peter?” Jimmy joked and you all broke out in contagious laughter.

Except the brunette who would just try his best to not show how much this bothered him.

Another thing that bothered the brown-haired half-orphan was that your flirty and cocky behavior wasn’t exclusive for him.

While wanting to pick you up from one of your classes, he noticed you talking to Stan and Kyle.

“Nice muscles Stan. If Wendy wasn’t already with you, I’m sure every girl here would fight to get vomited on by you. Goes for both of you.” You giggled and so did the two best friends next to you.

“Not too sure about that, YN.” Stan laughed.

“Yeah, I wish girls would acknowledge me.” Kyle mumbled shyly.

“Ah Kyle, come on, you’re like a parking ticket, ‘cause you got FINE written all over you.” All of you laughed once more and Clyde’s blood was boiling.

Without any hesitation he turned around and caught up to his friends. He recounted everything and kept talking about how angry he was.

“They just keep flirting. I hate it. It’s like they don’t take us seriously. I just wanna end it all.” He fumed and Craig just let out a big sigh.

“Dude, it’s just how they are. If you have a problem with it, have you considered talking to them about it?” The black-haired questioned. The other guys also turning to look at Clyde.

“Eh..I guess not. Not really, I think..?” He said quietly.

“Then talk it out. Clyde, I know you are a bit dense but come on.” Token now insisted too.

“Fine, fine. You are right.” He said and turned around once more to sprint towards where he thought you would maybe still be.

And to his surprise you were there, still waiting in front of your classroom. When you spotted the brunette, you smiled warmly at him.

“There you are. I was waiting.” You said excited and he felt bad for being angry with you.

“Will you walk with me for a bit?” He questioned and extended his hand to you. You gladly took it and you two started walking through the school.

“How come you wanted to walk? Somethings up?” You asked and the grip on your hand got stronger.

“I…I don’t know how to say but... I kinda have a problem with you being so flirty and embarrassing me about movies and all that. It just…. Makes me feel less like a man.” The last part he mumbled very very quietly but you were luckily still able to catch it.

You giggled and Clyde almost thought you were making fun of him. “I’m sorry then. I sure didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I can tone it down a bit if you want.”

Clyde nodded. “That would be great.” You two laughed awkwardly. “So…Wanna watch ‘To all the boys I’ve loved before?’ tonight at your place?” You asked and smiled at the brunette. Clyde’s brown eyes starred right into yours while he smiled widely. “I’d love that, babe.”

You got on your tiptoes and pressed a sweet and tender kiss onto his lips. “Good, see you tonight, hun. I gotta go to class.”

With a pep in his step Clyde walked to his class. He felt fuzzy and warm inside, happy that the boys talked him into talking to you. Because he sure was in love with this incredibly flirty you.

#South Park #clyde donovan x reader #clyde x reader #Clyde Donovan #south park x reader

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fourmarkdove · 4 years

Text

Fawn.

Title: Fawn.

Words: 2.8k

Summary: Geralt stops into ye locale brothel expecting one the ladies to soothe his battle weary soul. You aren’t meant to be there and have no idea how to handle his needs.

Paring: Geralt x reader

Warnings/Triggers: Smut.

A/N: This is a multi-chapter beasty. I’m already up to 10k so I’ll be editing and breaking it up into chapters to post in the next couple days. I’ve held onto this for 3 months (?) and I still can’t figure out where I’m going with it past chapter like 8, so I may be asking y’all what you think when we get there. (Also, I need to go back and tag some folks.) Comments welcome. Thanks for reading!

It had been weeks since the Witcher had been through town, so when his massive frame darkened the doorway of the inn, the women who worked there scattered to put on their rosy lips and tighten their bodices just a bit more. In truth, none of them would have even asked him for a single coin. Being the one chosen to bed the Witcher later that night would have been more than enough payment for keeping his plate full, his drink topped off, and some easy company with curves to fondle while he consumed and brooded.

By dusk, the leather clad man was served enough of a steady stream of ale to just barely soften the lines across his troubled brow. His demeanor was still altogether sullen, leaning over his mug, shoulders rolled forward, silver strands of hair fallen around his weary features. The hunt had not gone well.

He needed food, a bath and a hard fuck. Emptying himself out in the tight cunt of a pretty little thing would help clear his head. It might even afford him the chance to get a little bit of rest.

Mathilde, one of the more experienced women, saw Geralt always had proper company to suit his mood. Settling in next to him with a mug, she let out a labored sigh and sipped on her ale. His heavy lidded gaze glanced her way and an acknowledgement “Hmm” rumbled from his chest.

“You look tired, Witcher,” she noted, leaning heavily into his shoulder armor. “Why don’t you stay more than a night or two, my darling? Let Mathilde look after you a bit.”

“Hmm.”

That was usually enough to get him headed into a room upstairs but instead he sat back and downed the last third of his drink.

Mimicking his motions, she sighed and turned away from the room to whisper into his ear.

“Anyone caught your eye tonight, darling?”

Geralt looked in a drunken citrine haze around the room, but took pause at your figure sitting at the hearth, tending to the fire.

“Hm,” he grunted, motioning with his chin, before sipping on the fresh pint just delivered.

Mathilde pressed her lips together and slipped her hand under the table to touch his knee. Lazily lifting an eyebrow at her advances, he waited in silence for more information.

“She is new since you been here last, darling. Might not be exactly what you’re in the mood for tonight though love. Let’s maybe try Larissa? She can be bent over a sack of potatoes in the kitchen in about two minutes if you want an early night in.”

The slightest downward tick of his mouth indicated he was not pleased with her proposition. Returning his gaze to your outline seated by the fire, he grunted,

“Send the doe-eyed one up with soap.”

You’d barely seen the shadowy figure dragging his weary frame upstairs before Mathilde crossed the noisy room to where you were seated.

“You’re up, girlie,” the mistress instructed without a drop of honey in her tone. “Take a bar of soap up to the Witcher.”

Willing your hands to stop trembling, you paused and pressed your back against the wall just outside his door. Shaky breaths felt like they could have rattled your body to pieces and left you collapsed on the floor.

You’d been saved the humiliation of participating in the activities all of the other girls were involved with by staying in the kitchen for the last few weeks you’d been at the inn. Knowing absolutely nothing about cooking, you still tried to make yourself useful. Carrots were cut in odd sizes at an achingly slow pace. Onions made you weep so much that you closed your eyes while cutting and sliced your knuckles by mistake. Collecting potatoes, you’d managed to get tangled in a thicket of thistles and stumbled back to the kitchen empty handed and covered head to toe in burrs.

Having absolutely no training about local flora and fauna, you assumed all herbs were created equal. You’d never have known the herbs next to the parsley were in fact poisonous had you not washed and cut them to put in the soup yourself. Just a few sprinkles of green on top of a spoonful of broth made you immediately sick. Your body revolted and cast up everything you’d eaten that day, over and over.

So you were sent out of the kitchen. Potentially poisoning patrons was apparently the last straw. You knew it was only a matter of time before you would be sent upstairs to perform other activities. And it made your hands sweat and breathing quicken so much that you started to see stars.

Just as you were feeling your legs might give out from under you, the door swung open.

The white haired man stood as a broad shouldered wall of muscle, leather pants undone low around his hips, shirt crumpled in his hand.

You were absolutely dwarfed small by his impressive size. Upon one last shallow inhale, the soap dropped from your hand and your eyelashes fluttered closed.

Catching your waist, he tossed his shirt at the foot of the bed, swept you over his forearm and sighed. He’d heard your rapid heartbeat, like a frightened deer hiding under a brush pile, from the other side of his closed door. Of course, he was used to a cool reception wherever he went, but making you faint dead away was not his intention.

Dragging you to the bed, he hummed a thoughtful sound. He’d felt the kind of expensive green fabric you wore under his rough hands many times, but never in a place like this. Dresses this soft came from fabric woven from far away places, which meant you’d come from money and belonged in a court somewhere not collapsed on his bed in a brothel in the center of nowhere.

Fortunately, he had more knowledge of courtly dresses than most men, particularly their quick removal.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he let you fall forward so your head rested against his shoulder as he reached for his silver dagger and slipped it right up your spine, slicing the ties laced across your back. Roughly tugging apart your dress, your body responded with a desperate gasp.

With a shuddering exhale, your fingers grasped onto his thick biceps, trying to ground yourself as the dizzying sensation passed.

He made quick work pulling you free from the binding garment, slipping it down your shoulders, letting it pool around your hips.

“I’m… sorry… I don’t know… what happened,” you stilted, pressing your forehead into the crook of his neck.

“Why you ladies tie yourselves up in these fucking dresses I’ll never know,” he grumbled almost imperceptibly low. Slipping a hand under your hair, he stroked along your jaw and lifted your head with his thumb. “Better?”

You straightened up a bit and released your fingertips from their death grip into his upper arms.

“Better,” you lied. “How may I… please you?”

Regarding you with amusement, he lifted a brow. “Please me? Keep breathing for a start.”

You bit your lip, and his golden eyes followed. You were uncertain how to say the things out loud that you were supposed to say. Even moreso, do the things you were in his bed to do.

You frowned in confusion when he reached around your hip and pulled back the covers.

“You can stay here tonight,” his voice resonated deep in his chest. “I’m going to wash up.”

“Can I help?” you asked meekly.

He tugged your bitten bottom lip from between your teeth with his thumb. “You can stay right here.”

Decision made, his weight lifted from the bed making the old frame creak. He went to the fireplace to add more wood before heading to the bath in the main part of the room.

Pushing your heavy outer dress down your hips, you remained in your underclothes and slipped your cold feet under the covers, pulling the wool blanket up to your neck.

Geralt groaned as he sank down into the bath. Every muscle in his body ached.

Resting his heavy arms along the sides of the bath, his tired eyes finally closed and he rested his head back against the hot water basin.

Still alert like a snoozing cat, he didn’t move a muscle when you padded over, undressed and carefully held onto the edge of the bath to climb in with him.

You settled a long moment opposite him, drawing your knees up to your chest in the warm water. Fairly certain he was sleeping, you were allowed a longer look at him without those keen eyes flashing at you. He really was stunningly beautiful. Somehow that made what you were about to do even more difficult.

You were just inches away from touching his large hand holding onto the edge of the tub but he sensed your reach and grumbled, “What are you doing, little fawn?”

You gasped and froze, glancing at his still reclined and resting form.

“I… um…” you stumbled, pushing forward despite your racing heart shooting up into your throat. Wrapping your hand around two of his massive fingers, you pulled it underwater and his palm around your waist.

“You paid for this... room…” came your breathy voice, collecting every last bit of courage left in your body. Slipping over to him, you rose onto your knees before him, letting the water just skim the underside of your breasts.

His gaze became dark, pupils dilated, as he followed the water droplets rolling down your flushed skin.

He licked over his lip and flicked his gaze back up to yours after drinking in all of the soft flesh you were offering. His hand you’d wrapped around yourself flexed and pulled you flush to his chest. You could feel the steady thump of his heart pounding like a horse’s canter under your palms. Nudging his nose to yours, you could feel his warm breath against your lips when he parted his and waited.

It was so close and quiet and intimate and it surprised you.

A man like him could take what he wanted. But he was stalled out, stroking your neck with his thumb and the curve at the small of your back, while you decided. Leaning just that tiny bit more forward, you gave his full lips a chaste kiss, long and lingering, before backing off, still just inches from his face, and gazed at him through your dark lashes.

It was more than enough encouragement for him to stretch his long neck and tilt his head just a degree, capturing your mouth with his. He kissed you like a man starved, filling all of his senses with your sweet, soft presence, inhaling deeply your scent and needing to taste your lips, feel your soft tongue, breathe the same breath with each kiss that he dipped to receive from you.

It filled your body with such heat, from your cheeks to your toes, overwhelmed with the sensation.

Dropping his head, he pressed his lips to your neck, leaving little nips down to your collarbone. Nuzzling your chest there he huffed in appreciation and lifted his gaze again, arching a brow. He had a mischievous glint in his amber eyes which you couldn’t help but smile softly at. It was then that you felt him cup your breast, massaging it gently in his strong hand. His thumb found the sensitive nub of your hardened nipple and you bit your bottom lip to stifle a whimper.

Your eyelashes fluttered closed when your foreheads touched. He nudged his nose to yours and told you in a gentle rumble, “I want to hear you.”

Pawing your fingertips at the rock hard muscle atop his shoulders, you whined and let your head fall back, your hair spreading across the water as he lifted your body inches more out of the bath, kissing down your sternum, delivering hungry kisses to your warm flesh until his mouth finally found that nipple he’d been teasing.

Your whine turned into a moan as he hugged your hips to his chest. He caught behind one of your shaky knees and helped you wrap your squirming legs around his middle, never pausing for a second on the attention his open mouthed suckling kisses were giving your breast. Once it seemed he’d gorged himself on one breast, he shifted your body slightly and dropped his head down again to capture the second nipple in his mouth.

You dug your heels into his muscular back and threaded your fingers through his hair, arching and whimpering sounds you didn’t know you could make. Flattening his tongue along the swell of the underside of your breast, he lifted it past his lips and into his hollowed mouth, drawing you deep into him and suckling at such a slow even rhythm, rubbing your sensitive nipple into the roof of his mouth. Something like lightning shocked from your nipple down to your clit, making your hips jerk foreword violently.

“Hmm,” he grunted approvingly, feeling the swell of the hood of your clit nudge against his stomach when your thighs tightened again. Even underwater he could feel your slick heat smearing against his taut skin.

The slightest flutter of gentle fingertips near your core made you gasp his name. Wrapping both arms behind his neck, you rutted into him, trying desperately to get more friction.

Thick fingers slipped along your folds, coating you in your own sex, and a desperate ache pooled in your belly. Your hips rocked making waves in the bath and some spilled onto the floor.

“Careful there,” he teased, spreading two fingers around your core to stretch your center from outside. His thumb pad completely covered and deliciously circled your almost too sensitive clit. It made you cry out when he sped up thumbing over the tip of your swollen nub and then curled a thick finger over your clit hood, drawing down to his circling thumb. It was a motion and sensation and pressure you’d never even thought of to try yourself and it made your inside walls tighten and become thick with want.

Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, not meaning to pull his hair hard as you writhed into his hand and panted into his mouth. Your eyes were shut, and an almost pained expression tensed your features as you moved into his rhythmic ministrations.

His expressive eyes never closed for a moment, however. Black dilated pupils caught in the light and he gazed at you like a hunter to prey. He wanted to see the heave of your breasts and how they shuddered against his chest at the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to see how your eyebrows lifted and furrowed as if you were singing a song of ecstasy whose melody could only be heard by watching your beautiful features as he stroked your most sensitive parts of you. It was a melody you were writing together with every caress, kiss and muscle twitch.

You wrapped one arm behind his neck and pressed the other’s palm to his shoulder, giving you a bit of push and pull leverage against his anchored body. Your core was tightening and not willing to relax even if you willed it to.

“Fuck! Please don’t stop!” you cried trembling all over.

He growled a pleased sound, snaking his tongue into your mouth which you licked at wildly. He was doing things to your body you’d never felt before. How were you supposed to tell him it felt better than the best feeling ever without having any words fully formed coming from your brain?

“You like that, little fawn?” he purred as your mouth crashed against his again.

“Ah-hah…” you mumbled into his mouth, coveting more of his strong tongue. You wanted to taste him, every inch of him, have his scent all over your body. The need was incredible.

The forearm holding around your hips eased tension and his free hand slid down to caress over the curve of your behind. You cooed and nibbled at his swollen lower lip, still slipping into his thumb and fingers at your front.

His one strong palm pressed under you from behind almost made a seat for you, and you were able to relax your thighs’ grip on his sides.

You gasped and dropped your head down against his shoulder, shuddering when you felt his thick fingers from behind slicking along your tensed up core and began circling with increased pressure where he’d been working to stretch you before.

Falling silent, your hips stilled and warm breath panting against his neck caught in your throat.

He could no longer see the impending orgasm written across your features when you buried your face in his neck, but he could definitely still feel the hard heartbeat between your legs kissing at his bare stomach.

One slickened middle finger traced your opening, swirling over it gently at first and then pressed his fingertip into you.

His heightened hearing caught your mouse-sized whisper into his shoulder, “Please don’t…”

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #smut #fourmarkdovewrites

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