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eddieschains · 1 year

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Joseph Quinn X Fem!Reader

thank you @choke-me-joey for answering all my stupid annoying pregnancy questions for this

this is based off of a JQ dream i had that i did NOT want to wake up from

TW: i don’t think theres any warnings other than RPF (don’t like it, don’t read it), and pregnancy??

You and Joe had taken a trip to America to visit your family, as it would be the last time you could fly before the baby came. Your family made a big deal out of it since you rarely got time to visit with your daughter and Joes busy schedule.

You could see your family gathered in the living room as the three of you pulled into the driveway. Joe took care of the luggage while you carried your daughter to the front porch.

Your dad spotted you from the window and raced to the door to greet you.

“My two favorite girls!” He pulls you in for a hug as you set your daughter down, Joe trailing close behind. “And my favorite son in law!” He pulls Joe in for a hug too, patting his back before taking the bags from him.

“You only have one son in law dad.” You chuckle, hobbling into the house.

“That’s why he’s my favorite.” Your dad responds before making his way to your bedroom to set your bags down.

You’re greeted with lots of hugs and kisses from the whole family, and fondling of your protruding belly.

“How far along are you?” Your cousin asks.

“Just over 7 months.” You smile, watching her rub her hand over your stomach.

“I can’t wait to see him.” She smiles back.

“Neither can we.” You look up at Joe and he smiles, placing a small peck on your lips.

“And how old is this little one now?” She bends down to your daughter, who was playing the shy game and covering her face.

“How old are you Leila?” You ask your daughter, and she holds up 3 fingers.

“Three?! Oh my goodness how’d you get so old?” Your cousin tickles Leila earning some giggles. “Well come, sit. You must be exhausted.”

“Yeah its pretty tiring carrying this thing around.” You chuckle, “Where are my brothers?”

“Oh they’re all out back. Grilling, drinking beers, talking about whatever sport they watch.” She laughs, before trotting off into the kitchen.

“Do you want anything to drink baby?” Joe asks.

“Just water is okay.”

“With lemon?”

“You know me so well.” He leans down to kiss you before you take Leila’s hand, dragging her outside to visit with her uncles and cousins.

“Sister!!” Your brother, Jack yells with his arms in the air.

“Brother!!” You embrace him in a hug while his wife Anna scoops Leila up in her arms, giving her raspberries all over making her giggle loudly with joy.

“You look like you’re about to pop.” He jokes, softly patting your stomach.

“Yeah, feel like it too. Where’s my niece and nephew?” You ask, and he points to the yard. You bring Leila with you to say your hello’s.

“Auntie!!” They both yell, running up to give you a hug.

“Hey guys. What are we playing?” You ask them.

“Jump rope! I can do 23 in a row.” Your niece proudly tells you.

“Wow 23?! You must be on your way to the olympics by now, huh?” You scratch her head as she laughs.

“Not quite, but almost. You wanna play with us?” She asks you, holding the rope in her hand.

“Oh i’d love to but I can’t. Belly’s too big. But i’m sure Leila here would love to. Just go easy on her ‘kay?” You smile down at your daughter, motioning for her to join them.

You return to your brothers and their wives by the grill, as Joe hands you your glass of water.

“Hungry?” Anna asks, directing the question at both you and Joe. You nod, grabbing two plates to fix you and him something to eat.

Once everyone has pigged out on the barbecue, you take a seat on the couch in the living room, catching up with your mom and the other ladies of your family. Joe is outside with the boys, watching Leila play with her cousins in the yard.

“How’s the pregnancy this time honey?” Your mom asks, sipping on her wine.

“Ugh its awful.” You say, earning laughs from everyone. “I’m so much bigger this time, and more emotional. I feel sorry for Joe, but he’s been so great to me.” You smile, rubbing your belly.

“Well i’m sure it’s nothing he can’t handle hun. He’d have to be a patient person if he’s with you.” Your mom laughs.

“God I know! I was such a little shit when i was younger wasn’t I?” You think back to what you were like before Joe. Constantly sneaking out, hanging out with the wrong people, dating the wrong guys.

“I’m just glad you found such a good man. I was worried there for a second.”

You and your mom both chuckle, as he gets up to refill her glass. You lean back on the couch, resting your eyes for a moment before you feel a little tap on your knee.

“Mommy will you come play kitchen with me?” Leila asks with her big brown eyes. She looks so much like Joe. A curly mop of golden brown hair, those puppy dog eyes, and perfectly round lips. She makes the same face he does when he’s trying to get his way, and as much as you want to say yes, you’re physically exhausted and just want to lay down.

“It’s almost bedtime baby, we can play tomorrow.” You tell her.

“Pleaseeee mommy?” Joe walks in just as she starts to beg.

“Hey pumpkin, how about I come play with you til bedtime? Give mommy some time to rest okay?” Leila agrees and starts dragging Joe back outside. You mouth him a thank you and blow him a kiss before going back to conversing with your mom.

About 30 minutes later, your family starts to part ways. Exchanging lots of see you soon’s and good luck’s regarding your pregnancy.

You’ve fully taken up one of the couches by sprawling your whole body across it, trying to find some kind of relief on the weight in your lower back.

Your mom and dad are cleaning up in the kitchen, insisting that you stay on the couch instead of helping.

“Where’s Joe?” You ask them.

“Oh I think he went to put Leila down for the night. Really wore her out.” Your dad responds, putting the leftover food in the fridge.

“Good. Sometimes I swear she’s got the energizer bunny inside of her.” You laugh, laying back down.

Almost on cue, Joe comes back in, asking your parents if they need help as they usher him away. He makes his way to you, “Can you spare a spot?” You lift the top half of your body as much as you can, and he takes a seat. You lay your head on his lap and he begins rubbing your shoulders and playing with your hair.

“Hey.” You speak. He looks down at you, pulling your hair out of the way so he can see your face. “I love you.” He smiles, kissing your forehead.

“I love you more. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me this life. Giving me a family. This is all i’ve ever wanted, and i get to do it with you. Forever.” You smile, grabbing his cheek and rubbing it with your thumb.

“I’d do anything for you, you know that? You’re my favorite boy.”

“Don’t let little man hear you.” He chuckles, rubbing your bump.

You pull him down for a kiss, and you hear the noise of a camera shutter behind you. You both turn to see your parents standing there, grinning from ear to ear with their phones held out. Joe laughs and you shoot your mom a look.

“Just capturing the moment sweetie.”

#joseph quinn x fem reader #joseph quinn drabble #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn

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somedayonbroadway · 2 months

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Umbrella Acadamy Au plz?

The Umbrella Academy AU

I love this AU. Please let me know if you’d like to see anything else from this!

It was quiet in the house. It was always quiet in this house now. Ever since Race. Then Albert. They weren’t rowdy kids anymore. Sometimes Specs wished they were. He wished he could make time turn back, go back to when Race was still around, a spitfire challenging dad at every turn. When Albert was still trying to convince them that violence couldn’t always be the answer.

He sighed, shaking his head as he looked around for old memories. Dad was dead. Just like that. It couldn’t be possible. That man was indestructible. He was untouchable and yet, he was gone and all of his children were at each other’s throats trying to figure out if they cared or not.

Maybe they shouldn’t. But Specs did. He loved his father. Maybe everyone else had their reasons to hate him, but it didn’t change the fact that William Snyder was still their dad, cruel or not.

When the young man came across an old record player, he smiled, glancing up at the vent it sat beside. And just like he had done in the old days, he let it play, sending a song all throughout the house, knowing it could be heard in every room. He smiled to himself and started dancing a little bit.

The memories used to make him sad, angry even, but now he could only look back and smile at the dance parties they’d used to have. He could remember the way the seven of them huddled together and jumped and spun around. He could remember Race running through portals and Albert laughing and trying to catch him with his tentacles. He could remember Jack’s real smile, the one he effortlessly gave without the cheap booze or awful pills and powder. Crutchie would climb on his back and let him spin him around. Katherine would gracefully whirl around them like a little goddess.

That was until their father ordered them to stop making so much goddamn noise.

Specs wiped at the tear on his cheek. What he would give to see his family, whole one more time…

But his thoughts were halted when something outside began to screech and whirl. The lights went out. He could hear the commotion of his siblings, crying out as everything metal in his room stuck to the walls.

“Daddy?!” he heard Jack scream.

So he rushed downstairs, finding that Crutchie, Spot, Jack and Katherine were all rushing to the back garden to see what was happening. “The hell?” Specs whispered.

The five of them stared up at the big blue thing hovering above them. Jack only stood of a moment as the thing crackled and thrashed before he rushed inside, grabbing the biggest thing he could find and rushing past them. “Watch out!” he yelled, throwing a fire extinguisher into the thing. It disappeared into the blue monstrosity.

“The hell is that gonna do?” Katherine demanded.

“You have a better idea?” Jack asked, looking loopy and defeated.

“It’s gotta be some kind of black hole!” Spot yelled.

“Jack, get away from it!” Specs demanded, yanking his brother behind him. Jack stumbled to the ground as Spot pulled Katherine close to his side and Crutchie limped to help his brother up. “It could be some sort of anomaly!”

“I don’t care what it is! How do we get rid of it?!” Crutchie yelled, pulling Jack to his feet.

“Wait! Wait!” Spot yelled. “Wait, I see something!”

That was all that could be said a small body fell from the thing and it the ground face first and all of the sudden the sun was shining again the buzzing and whirring came to a halt, the whatever it was disappearing before their eyes, leaving them with what looked to be a young teen, groaning and trying to stand.

No one moved. Not for a long time. Not till that little body that had fallen from the sky managed to shakily push himself up.

Jack stared intently. “Wait… wait, nobody speak,” he said, focusing hard. “Oh my god, is that little number five? Guys! I did it! I can see him! How’s the afterlife, buddy—?”

“Jack,” Crutchie whispered, making Jack turn to him. It took the other man a moment to understand before he turned back to the boy in front of them. “He’s real…”

The boy squinted up at them, looking down at his lanky form and then back to them. He looked around at his five siblings, a suit hanging off of his body as it was far too big for him. Then he sighed before a cry fell from his lips.

“Shit!”

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welikeclownsinthishouse · 7 months

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Entry number five, @ailesswhumptober

Day five: held at gunpoint

In the heart of a bustling city, amidst the backdrop of a sunny afternoon, sat a quaint neighborhood grocery store. Shoppers bustled about, filling their carts with groceries, and the chatter of the checkout lines echoed through the aisles. Jack himself was doing the same thing, ticking off the items on the grocery list Sam had given him.

This was the first time he was doing the grocery shopping on his own, in this city at least, and Jack was going to make sure he wouldn't forget anything, even if that meant taking longer than Sam would.

As he strolled through the store, picking up items from the shopping list, he noticed a sudden loud noise near the front and stopped, turning his head to have a better look at the situation.

A tall man with a weathered face and desperation in his eyes was waving a gun around wildly, demanding the cashier empty the register and Jack could almost feel the fear rippling through the store as panic started to take hold.

Jack's own heart raced, but he couldn't do anything, he promised Sam and Castiel that he wouldn't use his powers in public. He also knew that they wouldn't like him using them to hurt someone who wasn't a monster, so he stayed where he was, watching the man wave the gun around with the ever-growing feeling of dread he'd become so familiar with.

His eyes darted around, looking at the terrified faces of the other shoppers, while he thought about a way to help. While he thought about something, anything that might help, he slowly made his way toward the back of the store, searching for a solution.

In the distance, he spotted a security guard nervously pacing near the entrance, looking like he was attempting to contact the police discreetly and Jack slowly changed direction and approached the guard, hoping to help find a way out. Before he reached the guard however the man with the gun turned and stared at him, locking him in place before pointing his gun right at Jack's face.

"What the fuck are you doing huh?" The man yelled and his voice was just as erratic as his movements. Jack gulped and thought about a way to diffuse the situation but he couldn't think of anything, not really. The anxiety running through him didn't make it easy for him to think, even if he knew on a rational level that the gun couldn't hurt him.

"Nothing, just- just trying to leave," Jack said, sounding scared and a little hopeless and these feelings just grew when the guy kept his gun trained on him while he ordered the cashier to give him the money again.

Jack just hoped the guard would be able to use this as the distraction it was and get the police to come here before the guy either shot him or booked it out of the store. Jack desperately wanted Sam and Castiel to be here with him, to help him through this but he was also glad that neither of them was in any danger right now.

Not long after, barely two minutes, in fact, sirens could be heard in the distance and the man jumped at the noise before he turned toward the door, his whole body tense. Jack knew the man would make a run for it and he couldn't help but hope he would do so quickly, the anxiety still running rampant was getting a little much for Jack.

When the police got closer the man took a panicked look around before making a grab for a woman who was near the register but the woman thankfully evaded him enough so that his hand grabbed at the air. Startled the guy looked at the woman before he finally made a run for it, only to be stopped by the police right outside the store.

Jack let out a relieved sigh when he saw the man getting caught and flexed his fingers a little, happy that he didn't have to use his powers, that he didn't have to break the promise he made earlier.

He could feel his shoulders relax and his anxiety ebbing away a little as the cop placed the man in the police car before the rest of his anxiety left him when he saw a black Chevy Impala park not too far from the store.

Just seconds later he saw Sam and Castiel running toward him, both looking worried and slightly on edge, before they engulfed him in a hug. They seemed to be very happy that nothing had happened to him and Jack just let himself get lost in the blissful feeling of safety for a while.

#supernatural #jack kline #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ailesswhumptober2023

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

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my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

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

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

To Infinity and Beyond: baby!Jack truthing Birthday Ficlet

Today already looked like the perfect day. Warm weather, the sun shining, the birds singing, all the usual qualifications for "perfection". And if Dean had anything to say about it, it is also going to be, the perfect day.

Because Dean had planned out everything. Tents and tables spread out in the backyard of their new house, enough hamburgers and hotdogs to feed an army, a giant sheet cake in the freezer, and it looked like a Party City catalogue threw up all over their house, both inside and out. Hell, he and Cas even got a bounce house.

Yup, today was going to be perfect, Dean thought as he surveyed the backyard. He was going to make sure of it, nothing was going to go wro-

"To infinity and beyond!"

And the next thing he knew, he had a recently turned four year old, barreling into his legs almost knocking him off the porch.

(read the rest under the cut)

He looked down to see Jack already dressed in his outfit for the day. A shirt with Buzz Lightyear's costume printed on it, complete with little cardboard Buzz wings (Cas made them), purple shorts with a purple tutu, and of course, his favorite Buzz light-up sneakers.

"I'd say that was a bit of a crash landing there, Mr.Lightyear" Dean laughed, as he bent down to right Jack's scribbled cardboard wings. Jack just ignored his reference, instead letting out an excited shriek as he took in the backyard.

Every tablecloth, plate, napkin, cup, balloon, and cardboard decoration was covered in Toy Story characters.

Toy Story, was the end all be all in their house, because they were Jack's favorite movies. So everything, was 100% Toy Story, 100% of the time, hence the party theme. And his favorite character was Buzz Lightyear, hence the costume.

"Dee where's your costume?" Jack questioned, after he finally recovered from the shock of seeing the, probably, overdecorated backyard.

"Yeah Sheriff Woody, where's your costume? It's almost one thirty" Cas called as he stepped out the backdoor. Cas was already dressed in t-shirt with Jessie's outfit printed on the front, her matching red hat, jeans and of course, cowboy boots which Dea-wait shit they only had a half an hour left.

And he hadn't even double checked th-

"The backyard and inside of the house already look incredible. Go on and get ready before everyone starts arriving" Cas smiled sweetly, knowing how worried Dean was about today.

"I will, after I chec-"

"Dean, I promise, I'll double check all the decorations, and the food. Me and the little space ranger have got it covered, right baby?" Cas supplied, looking fondly over at Jack.

"Yeah me and Da got it! Get dressed Dee" Jack cheered, as hopped down the steps and raced "flew" across the grass cardboard wings flapping behind him.

"Go get changed, cowboy. Everything already looks perfect" Cas teased, pressing a quick peck to Dean's lips. And then he was bounding down the steps towards Jack, warning him not to go near the bounce house.

So Dean reluctantly walked inside, forcing himself to ignore all of the things he wanted to check on, and instead making a beeline for their bedroom. He quickly pulled on his costume, but unlike Jack and Cas it was the real deal, not just a graphic t-shirt, Dean had the actual shirt, the vest, whole nine yards. Jack had asked if Dean would wear a real Woody costume and, hey who was he to deny his kid on his birthday?

So with a sigh, Dean made his way back to the living room so he could reorganize the snack table.

He wanted everything to be perfect today. Perfect for Jack because, this was his first real birthday party after all. And because Dean's oldest memory was of his fourth birthday, his last birthday party actually since it wasn't like they were throwing big family bashes on the road. No, birthdays were a box of cigarettes from his Dad (if he even remembered), or Dean sometimes scraping together enough money to get a cake for Sam's birthday.

Which is why today had to go smoothly. Because Jack deserved the world, he deserved to have a good life filled with memories of big family parties with fun decorations and food and laughter. And Dean could give it to him now, give him what he and Sam never had. So today had to be special, it had-needed to be perfect.

"Dean, I don't think Jack is going to care if the clouds are a little crooked" Cas pointed out, amusement dancing in his voice as he walked into the living room.

Dean huffed a laugh, but didn't stop his mission to straighten out the paper "Andy's Room" clouds taped to the wall above the table. Cas just sighed as he gently pulled his hand away from the wall, turning Dean towards him.

"Dean I know how much you want to make this day absolutely perfect for Jack, believe me I do too. But he's going to love every single second of it. He's practically bouncing off the walls already, and the party hasn't even started yet" Cas assured as he squeezed Dean's hands.

"I know, I know. But he deserves to have the best damn birthday. Especially after everything and he's just- Jack shoul-" Dean started, only to be cut off by the sound of the doorbell.

"It's Uncle Sammy and Aunt Eileen! Can I open the door, please?" Jack called from down the hall, asking for permission.

"Yeah buddy, you're allowed to open the door. Let them in" Dean shouted back, unable to help the smile pulling at his lips when he heard Jack enthusiastically telling them about "all the cool decorations".

"See? Jack is already loving it! Now relax, and enjoy the party, cowboy. Everything is going to be perfect" Cas smiled as he made his way down the hall to greet Sam and Eileen. But not before giving Dean's ass a little smack.

A few hours into the party everything was smooth sailing, and Dean had only been scolded for readjusting some decorations four times. The kids Jack invited from his class were having a great time, as where their parents, which was especially great because not a single one of them managed to see a member of Dean and Cas’ family discreetly place their weapons in the spare bedroom (Dean wasn’t a fool, it was a party full of hunters, he wasn’t just gonna make a no weapons rule because what if something happened?). So then Dean and Eileen manned the grill like champs, Cas and Garth kept an eye on the kiddos in the bounce house, Sam had handled the Buzz Lightyear shaped piñata perfectly, while Dean organized the kids, making sure Jack was the one to break it. The sun stayed shining, the birds kept singing. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn't.

And it was all Dean’s fault.

Dean's stomach dropped as he stared down at the now smudged faces of Woody, Buzz and half of the green aliens. Because Dean just smooshed the entire left side of the cake while trying to take lid off.

He just destroyed the most important part of the party, the part Jack was most excited about. Now Dean just ruined everythi-

"-come in star command, do you read me?" Cas joked, completely startling Dean, because how long had Cas been standing there?

"Dean, what's wro-oh" Cas sighed as soon as he caught sight of the cake.

"I friggin smooshed the whole thing with the lid. It's destroyed we can't-the party and Jack and-" Dean rambled, heart pounding against his chest, while Cas took the life from his hands and gently set it on the other side of the counter.

"Dean, stop it's okay breathe for me. It's just the cake. It's not your fault. It's still edible, we can fix this" Cas soothed as softly cupped Dean's cheeks in an attempt to ground him.

"Hey are you guys alri-oh shit" Eileen gasped as she and Sam walked through the kitchen door, which caused Dean’s heart rate to pick up again.

"It's okay, it'll be fine. We can try to scrape some of it back together with a knife" Sam offered, quickly moving Dean and Cas to the side so he could get at the cake.

But it only made the faces look completely unrecognizable.

"Damnit, what are we gonna-"

"Dee! Can we have cake now?" Jack asked as he came racing into the kitchen, and Dean, Cas, Sam and Eileen quickly huddled in front of the counter to hide the cake from sight.

"In a few minutes squish, we're still uh-getting it ready" Dean managed plastering a wide, hopefully convincing smile on his face.

"Why don't you go jump around the bounce house again, buddy?" Sam suggested, which had Jack nearly bolting out of the kitchen again with a nod

"Make sure one of your aunts or uncles, or your friends' parents are watching you!" Cas called after him, which only got a tiny "okay Da" in response.

They all let out a breath when they heard the backdoor slam, and quickly turned to look at the offending cake again.

"It's not that late, what if one of us runs to store and see if they have ano-"

"They won't, we ordered this specia-"

"And there seems to be no sign of intelligent life anywhere" Claire joked as she entered the kitchen and quickly surveyed the mess before her, eyes widening when she spotted the cake. And Dean normally would have teased her the reference but he was too busy, freaking the fuck out, so he chose to ignore it.

"What do we do? We can't fix this, there's no time it's completely rui-"

"Wait, dude calm down. I have an idea, hold on a minute" Claire proclaimed, and swiftly exited the kitchen, which did pretty much nothing to calm Dean's panic. In fact he was getting desperate.

"Do you think Rowena might have a spell-"

"That's not how magic works. But honestly Dean, I'm sure Jack won't even notice-"

"The kid can recite the entirety of Toy Story 2 from memory and you don't think he's gonna notice Woody is missing his entire head?"

"Alright, start grabbing the Toy Story figures and wash them off. Then we can put them all over the cake instead, and cover up the horrifyingly smeared faces" Claire ordered as she came back into the kitchen with Kaia in tow, and box of Jack's toys in hand.

And Dean could have cried from relief (he did).

"Holy shit Claire you're a genius" Dean praised, as he quickly began sifting through the box.

"I know, I know. Now c'mon, I want cake"

And a few minutes later everyone was gathered around the dining room table, singing a completely off key rendition of Happy Birthday. Jack was seated in the center of it all, with a half smooshed, slightly lopsided, plastic figure covered cake, with Dean and Cas crouching on either side of him. Jack hadn't even commented on the completely smeared face of Woody or Ham, he was just clapping along, bouncing in his seat. In fact, he the biggest smile Dean had ever seen on his face, and he teared up at the sight.

"Blow out the candles and make a wish, baby" Cas encouraged, and Jack attempted to do just that. Only succeeding when Dean secretly helped blow out the candles for him.

"Yay! To infinity and beyond!" Jack shouted again, as he stood up and jumped on his chair. The room easily erupted into laughter, while Charlie and Jody each snapped pictures from across the table.

"Alright Lightyear, let's not fall with style into the already smooshed cake" Dean joked, as he quickly stabilized Jack, which only caused everyone to burst into more laughter.

So, Dean scooped up Jack, sitting in his chair and placing him on his lap, while Sam offered to cut up the cake. And Cas took plopped down in the chair next to them, sliding him and Jack a plate.

"Are you having fun at your birthday party, baby?" Cas questioned as he handed Jack a plastic fork.

"Yeah! Claire jumped in the house with me! And Danny and Sarah and me played in the sandbox! An-and we played tag, and Aunt Donna played too! And the cake has all my friends on it, see!" Jack rushed out all in one breath, stopping to point at the now sliced cake. By "friends" he of course meant his actual Toy Story figures of course. But before Dean could even react to any of that, Cas was whispering in Jack's ear, and pulling away.

"Thank you for all the party things, Dee!" Jack beamed as he turned and threw his arms around Dean's neck.

And Dean's heart clenched as he tightly wrapped his arms around his kid, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. He looked back up to see Cas smiling widely at them, so Dean whispered something in Jack's ear too. And then Jack was off flinging himself around Cas' neck.

"Why doesn't all the family get together, I can take the photos" Marissa, the mom of one of Jack's friends offered.

And soon the three of them were surrounded by their family on all sides. Everyone laughing when Marissa suggested they all say "yeehaw" instead of cheese. Jack giggling when Claire zoomed over, and bent down so she could smoosh their faces together for the obligatory "silly face" picture. Dean quickly swiping icing on both Cas and Jack's noses, causing Cas to tip Dean's cowboy hat and Jack to shove a handful of frosting on Dean's cheek.

So maybe it wasn't the flawless, smooth sailing birthday party Dean had planned. But the weather stayed warm, the sun still shone, the birds still sang. His family laughed, and ate and had a blast.

And Jack looked about as happy as they had ever seen him, as he ran around the yard with his friends and played games with his family. Dean would even go as far to count it as a complete success. Especially since Jack asked Cas, "when can we have a big party again?", as they tucked him into bed later that night.

So as far as Dean is concerned, it was the perfect day.

Tag list:

(please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!!💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149

@shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs

@dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @ethicalbitch @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix @milfcodeddean @seraphcastiel @seraphlm

#toy story 2 IS jack's favorite movie i will not be debating this. he is a boy of taste #dean and cas are secretive and dont trust the mail ahshdha #this is so self indulgent toy story 2 is my favorite movie of all time #this is based off when my parents accidentally smooshed half of the cake at my 3rd bday party and did exactly this asfhajdhah #so this is literally just a bunch of toy story references i apologize for nothing i had to hold myself back from making even moRE #de and da supremacy because its both parts of 'daddy' and he started calling them that when he first started to talk but it stuck #also its written from deans pov bc i couldnt write from actual 4 year old jack's pov so i apologize for that #HES FOUR!!!!#baby jack truthing #baby!jack #happy birthday jack!!!!#dean winchester #castiel #sammy #eileen #claire novak #destiel #destiel fic #bec writes #nougatparty #dad!dean #dadstiel #userzaddy #seraphcastiel

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Can’t escape (the way I love you) ↬a.r

A/N: This is a repost from my old account :) @th0ttie4tommy here you go :)

Warnings: cursing, use of wooden spoon, seX, canon typical voilence-ish)

MINORS DNI

WC: 3.1K

Summary: after running away from knockemstiff, Arvin finds his way to Cincinnati and finds a girl instead.

Pairing: Arvin Russell x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Sleep didn’t come easy to Arvin now that he was hitchhiking his way to Cincinnati. Flashes of his daddy on the prayer log with his neck cut off, Lenora’s limp body hanging, the preacher bleeding his guts out and even the photograph of the whore- the Sheriff’s little sister- all played in his mind like a broken record.

Sighing, he leaned back on the seat and watched the long haired driver honk on the ongoing vehicles, the noises sending shards of pain up his skull. He really wanted to sleep, and maybe smoke a cigarette, but he didn’t want to think about the possibilities of what would happen if he slept in a random stranger’s truck.

Just the thought of sleep reminded him of the old man and the whore’s faces, making him sit up straight.

“You okay there boy?” The long haired man raised an eyebrow, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

Arvin shook his head, wincing at the movement as his sore body struggled to not give in to the strong pull of sleep.

“I’m good. How far away are we from the city?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he saw the Sheriff’s car go past them.

“We have a long way to go. Why don’t you take a shut eye meanwhile?” The driver said.

“No thank you. I’ll stay awake. Sleep is for the week and all.” He mumbled, fixing his cap.

“Okay, if you say so” The driver responded, shrugging and continued driving.

Arvin looked out of the window, watched as the trees passed by, a lonely dog making a trek as it wiggled it’s tail. His heart gave a thump, chest aching as the dog reminded him of Jack. He really missed the mutt, he didn’t deserve the death it got.

Pulling his cap over his eyes, he squinted at the slight indication of dawn, the pull of sleep too strong to ignore now. His mouth went slack and neck bobbed with the wobbly rout, a huge yawn leaving him, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

***

“Hey kid! Wake up!” The man said, shaking out of his sleep. He woke up in a disoriented haze, head throbbing harshly against his skull, body heavy with exhaustion. Sitting up with a gasp, he saw that the man had stopped the truck, panic seizing his lungs. Was that it? Would the driver pull a gun on him just like those Henderson whores had?

Looking around, he noticed a small diner, stomach growling with hunger, as if in response to seeing the place.

“Whe- Where are we?” He said sharply, noticing the driver’s eyes trailing him. He shuddered at the man’s gaze.

“We’re at a rest stop. Figured you might be hungry.” He replied gruffly, getting off the side door, “You comin’ or not boy?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.” He whispered. Maybe he could run away from here, hitchhike another ride to the city. His eyes landed on the board on the corner of the road. He was relieved to find that he was already in the city.

Before he knew it though, his feet were carrying him towards the diner, a cigarette making its way to his mouth as an invisible string pulled him towards the small place. He complied, too tired to make anything of the situation.

The bell rang as he opened the door, pushing himself inside before he could think. Taking an empty seat, he leaned on his hands as his heart stuttered to a stop.

Literally stopped.

It felt like he was in a parallel universe filled with coincidences, flashbacks of his old house back in Ohio, his daddy sitting on a ratty stool as he talked about his mama . Because in front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He remembered his daddy telling him how he met his mother in a diner in a small town, just like the one Arvin was in right now.

Throwing away the butt in an ashtray, he tried to speak, but no words came out. He stuttered a small smile, looking at your bright eyes as you said something.

“What do I get for you honey?” You asked in a soft voice, oh your voice was such a melody.

“A coffee would be good.” He finally said, licking his lips and thumbing his wallet nervously. He hadn’t left with much money.

“You look like you need solid food and aspirin.” You smirked, pouring a hot cup of coffee in front of him. You slid a cheesecake, smiling at his surprised expression. “It’s on me.“

"Oh- I uhm. Thank you.” He nodded. He took a bite of the soft dessert, nearly moaning at its sweet taste. His taste buds were jumping from the onslaught of the sweet flavour, sighing as he sipped at the bitter coffee. It was the best food he’d had in a few days.

Turning around in his seat, he saw that the driver was nowhere in sight. Great. He had ditched him. Thankfully he still had his belongings with him.

Turning around again, he fidgeted with his fingers just as you appeared in the line of his sight.

“You’re not from here are you?” You ask, wiping your hands on your apron.

“No. How’d you know?” He raised an eyebrow, a smile appearing on his face.

“Well you look quite lost. Do you have a place to stay?” You leaned forward, the open collar showing just a little bit of your cleavage. He licked his lips, trying not to stare.

“I don’t actually. My ride ditched me.” He shrugged, “thanks for the cheesecake by the way."

"Oh it’s alright. The leftovers go to those bloated buffoons anyway. You looked starved, so I wondered why not?” You collected the cutlery from the other customers, shouting orders at the kitchen for the others. “You say your ride ditched you? My grandma owns a motel not far from here, I could get you a room to stay for s while."

"Oh no no no! That- you’ve already done so much for me and you don’t even know me!” He stumbled. He wasn’t used to this sort of kindness, considering the shit his life took in the past few months.

“It’s no trouble really! I’m just going there after this shift anyway, will probably stay in the penthouse for a while.” You said.

Before he could say anything to confirm or deny your offer, You were removing your apron, handing it to another girl as you hopped over the counter.

Fixing your dress and hair, you go to the back of the kitchen and yell something at the manager, walking out of the house, looking behind and silently asking him to follow.

Arvin tried to follow you, sighing in relief when he found you leaning against the wall in the back. But instead of calling out for you, he scrambled for a cigarette, groaning internally when he found only one left and lit it with a matchstick. Taking a drag, he breathed in the familiar burning in his throat, leaning against a pole.

He felt more than saw you eyeing him from the corner of his eye, heart speeding up like he was in highschool and had a crush on one of the girls or guys. He hadn’t stuck around much to date anyone, but the time he had making out with them was good enough for him.

“My name’s Y/N by the way.” You said, biting your lips as you looked at him.

“Russell Arv- I mean- Arvin Russell.” He stuttered, pulling out the joint from his mouth.

He took a deep breath, letting the silent roads and windy weather calm his racing heart down. He thought about leaving right there, not wanting to get someone who looked as innocent as you did, in a mess like his life was. Before he could walk away though, you were walking towards him, biting your lips.

“Uhh, so my grandma’s place?” You asked nervously.

“You barely know me and you’re letting me stay with you. For all you know, I could be a murderer.” He joked. You chuckled and made a face at him, dragging him to your Cadillac. He followed anyway.

(He almost laughed at how ironic he sounded, shaking his head internally.)

“Thanks for letting me stay Mrs. L/N” He smiled at your grandma as she shook his hands, enthusiastically shoving cookies down his throat and excited that you had brought a boy with you.

“She’s nice."

"She’s the best.”

He intended to stay for a day and hitch a ride, stay far far away from this place. He didn’t want to corrupt these people, he tried to reason. But he couldn’t let go, he just kept interacting.

(A little girl in the neighbourhood liked to play with his hat. He smiled at the small child, surprised to find the unadulterated happiness that radiated off the wee kiddo when he played with her. The people smiled a lot too.)

A day turned to two, two to a week and then nearly a month passed and no one asked him once why he lived with a girl and her grandma.

(Or why he flinched every time he saw a gun or an officer of law walk by).

He also managed to score a job at the diner, for washing the plates. He found that he didn’t mind helping people

You didn’t know how fast time could pass, and as it grew it’s sneaky tendrils, your heart grew a mind of its own as you spent days fantasizing your time with him, of you under him as he fucked you senseless.

Tracing his biceps, you leaned forward, mouth nearly touching his. He cupped your jaw, grabbing your waist and lifted you off the ground, slamming you against the concrete wall and kissed you.

Your mouth tasted like berries, which berries he didn’t know, maybe strawberries, fuck if he cared. Maybe it was your Chapstick.

“Arvin.” You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching for the collar of his shirt as he shoved you against the wall, holding your ass to keep your balance. His tongue swirled around your lips, hands sliding up your legs in a soothing motion.

You could taste the nicotine in his mouth, but you couldn’t be bothered. All you wanted was this beautiful stranger right now. A stranger who you felt like you’ve known your whole life.

“Shh sweetheart, don’t want anyone to hear us would we?” He whispered in your ear, holding his hands over your lips to shush you. You nodded, eyes half closed as you enjoyed the feeling of his rough denim rub against your thighs, the sheer friction of his movements causing heat to pool your gut.

“Arvin,” you moaned softly, running your hands through his hair, “Arvin, wait. I- I know a place."

He stopped for a second, Looking at you with a bewildered expression. "What kind of place?"

You gulped, getting off of him and walking around and outside the master bedroom, making sure no one was in the corridor. Following you, his eyes grew wide as he saw you open a door to a dungeon, switching on the flickering lights to reveal a small square area room.

The room was dimly lit and dusty. It was surrounded by racks but he could not see what was kept in them. In the centre though, was a single obsolete piece of wooden slab surrounded by long rods of metal attached to it. It must have been an old hospital bed- the kind the troops used. It sat flat against the floor. He looked at you again.

"My daddy used to bring things from the war, whips, guns, handcuffs. Everything. Everything.” Your low voice sent chills up his spine. With shaking hands, he scoured the cupboards, wiping off the dust from his fingers as he came across a pair of brass knuckles and handcuffs. Fingering them, he looked at you as you nodded.

“Do you- do you want me to use ‘em? On ya?” He said. He could feel his already hard dick throb painfully almost, the lust in your eyes making him feel things.

“Use them on me Arvin. I wanna feel you use the cold metal against me as you fucked me so hard I couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You suddenly push him against the cupboards, his back hitting with a thud as you traced his chest through his shirt, scrambling to remove off the offending clothing.

You scratched his chest lightly, fingers gliding against his pecs and abs as they clenched, moving in a sensual manner. He was impatient, you could practically smell his excitement in waves. The scent of his cologne was overwhelming in a way that made your insides tingle with your own arousal.

“Fuck- sweetheart.” He whimpered, his legs weak for you, waiting to feel your walls.

Kissing his neck and then chest and nipples, you dig your teeth around the skin, eliciting a moan deep from his throat. You were shaking with anticipation, hastily removing your frock and throwing it to somewhere. He held you for a second, admiring your body and giving you a gratifying look. His hands linger around your chest, unhooking your bra holding them as he kisses your chest while bending down with trails of kisses down all the way to your tummy.

You pant as he reaches your navel, slender fingers sliding your panties off you as you sigh in relief, ecstatic that you were now fully naked in front of the boy of your desires.

He plunged his fingers inside your dripping core, your legs trembling as he licked off dripping cum from your folds.

“Already wet for me huh? Wait till I use these on you, how will you feel then babygirl? Want me to use them don’t you?” He urges, spreading your legs apart and moving you so that your butt hit the wooden plank. You whimper at the force, back arching as he dribbles your clit with his spit, licking it off you and then standing up. You immediately miss the contact, and thankfully it wasn’t for long before he came back.

He unbuttoned his pants so that he was too fully exposed now, his cock springing out made you crave for it even more now, but before you could do anything, he took your hand, cuffing it to the railing of the plank. You cursed at the tightness, adjusting your wrist so that they wouldn’t hurt. You whimpered when you felt a cold wooden spoon run along your chest. He held the dip of the spoon on top of them leaving indents, his other hand’s thumb kneading into your flesh.

“Is this okay princess? Don’t wanna hurt your pretty little hand. Just wanna hear you moan my name.” He whispered, voice cracking due to the octave it took when you gave a shrill cry of surprise, your other hand clutching at his hair, causing you to lose your balance and falling on your ass.

“I need you Arvin! I need you now please help me!” You cry out, your eyes devoid of tears but your voice showing your emotion. You were hungry, starved and his cock looked delicious. You just wanted him inside.

“A little patience would be appreciated.” He growled against your chest, biting at the sensitive skin. You must have said that out loud.

“I don’t know how much longer I can hold it in me.” You whimper, scrunching your eyes as he nipped at your neck, rubbing the tip of his dick on your clit. His tip was bright red, hard and erect. You wrapped your legs around his shoulder, bringing him down at you. His fingers kept playing while his mouth worked.

“I’m so wet Arvin, only for you baby, look at me, so wet.” The wooden spoon made contact with your chest again, sliding down to your ass as he gently nudged your back. He didn’t hit you, no, that son of a bitch teased you with slow motions of its cold surface. You kissed him till your lips were plump and red with blood dripping off the thin skin, his mouth leaving his lingering taste in yours.

Finally, finally, he slid into you. You gave a shrill cry as his member entered you, your walls clenching around it as if you wanted it to stay in you forever. You arched your back, your waist hitting his pelvis, causing it to slap around him. You unconsciously dug your fingers in his back, gritting your teeth at the sudden sensory input.

“So tight baby. Clenching around me like a fucking ant-eater. You like this don’t you darlin’? Like it when I slide in."

"Yes baby.” You whispered. Sweat dripped off of the both of you, your slicked bodies slapping against each other, “Oh I’m about to cum! Arvin!"

"Cum on me baby, cum on my dick so I can shove in harder.” He clenched himself, mouth forming an O as he felt you orgasm around him, his dick sliding out of you. Pumping his balls, he clenched his jaw at the sight of you, panting under him with your legs spread apart. “You’re such a good girl. Always listening to what I say."

"Because you’re the best.” You flopped down on the board, your back hitting it. You jiggled your arm that was held in the handcuff, the movement bringing Arvin toppling down to you. He fell on your breasts, face smushed in as if he was sleeping on a pillow. You erupted in a fit of giggles as he licked you with kitten-like strips.

“Did you like that? Was that- was that okay?” He huffed, probably as tired as you were right now. His muscles relaxed under your touch, unclenching as you ran your hands on his back. You hissed when you saw that your hand had caused bloody indents on his skin.

“That was amazing sweetheart.” You paused, “I’m so glad we met that day."

"Me too. I didn’t believe in love for a very long time after momma died, and then my daddy died, and then Lenora-” he said, choking on his tears, “- my sister, Lenora, that fucking preacher. He killed her."

"Arvin, baby I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I can’t bring them back. But I can hold you. I can hold you forever if you want. I can love you."

You froze for a moment, realising what you had said. You had met only a month ago, and yet here you were, telling him that you loved him. Your heart did gallops when he didn’t answer for a while, and then you heard it. You heard him say those three words, a soft whisper in the night.

"I love you too."

#arvin russell smut #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russell x reader smut #peter parker x reader smut #tom holland smut #spideygirl writes

713 notes · View notes

whump-town · 3 years

Text

The Blood That Haunts Me

post-scratch fic

no pairings

Hotch has a bad heart

word count 6k

In Savannah Hayes’ experience, Saturday’s are typically for parents with screaming toddlers looking for emergency medicine to soothe their fears about whatever toy their child has shoved up their nose or to ask an aged nurse what to do with this croup that just won’t go away. It’s scrapes and bruises from a fender bender with kids just learning to drive and roughly two to three broken arms from seven-year-olds learning to ride a bike without training wheels. With any luck, there will be only one underage kid in a banana bag and the college kids will be in and out for stitches and gone as quickly as they come. There’s always the regulars - older men and women that buzz with the opportunity to be out of their houses even if it’s to withstand the pain of stitches and staples on their thin skin.

Rarely has Savannah faced a Saturday where she knew someone being pulled into her emergency room. Virginia isn’t the biggest place but her friends are young and healthy and Saturdays are for squirmy children and stupid teenagers. When she sees him with his ankles stretched out over the end of the stretcher and a large hand weakly fighting with the paramedic to hold the oxygen mask over her face she’s certain of his identity. She’s good with faces and his is unmistakable.

“You shouldn’t be on break yet, baby.” Derek picks up on the first ring, the sound of Hank babbling loudly in the background making him chuckle deeply as he moves. The phone pinched between his shoulder and cheek, she can hear him pick up their son. Talking back to the baby.

Savannah is sitting in the emergency room, camped out behind the desk as she catalogs patient information. Despite it being a Saturday, the hospital is startlingly pretty timid (knock on wood). When there is a new patient the clatter is noticed. So when Hotch came in, supine but weakly fighting against the oxygen mask pulled down over his mouth, Savannah noticed. Even drugged and combative, he’s distinctly himself.

And as Savannah tells Derek, describes the man she’s quite fond of, he doesn’t believe her. Hotch doesn’t go to the hospital and no one’s heard from him in forever, he’s probably not even in Virginia. Garcia said Jack started high school last fall and if they were home and situated again with no contact then… Well, what are they supposed to do? “Derek--” Savannah can hear the pitch change in his voice. Derek goes from dismissive to genuinely worried and now pulling at strings because no one has talked to Hotch in months (nearly two years) and the idea of seeing him now is terrifying. “I am positive that it’s Hotch.” She leans around the monitor, frowning as she watches some nurses she knows buzz around him. Throwing out words she can’t make out entirely but she can see what they’re doing and it makes her heart jump a little to hear medications that they put orders out for.

Hotch makes a noise - it has to be loud for her to hear it from the distance she’s at. “Baby,” she stands and it makes her heart do a weird clenching thing when she catches a glimpse at his face. Sees that he’s crying and clearly upset. “Derek, he’s getting all kinds of agitated. I’m gonna call you back in a second, okay?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and tosses her phone down on her chair before calling out for one of the nurses she recognizes with a wave.

The nurse smiles when she sees Savannah - she’s got a particular gift with patients like Hotch.

“I know this one,” Savannah says, approaching the bed. “What have you got?”

Savannah doesn’t have all the details on the accident that occurred in 2009 with George Foyet. It’s not Derek’s story to tell and it’s not exactly the easiest one to bring into conversation. She’s aware of vague things like his collapse a few years later from scar tissue that caused him to bleed internally and that Hotch's ex-wife was killed by a serial killer. Mostly, she knows that Hotch is dependable and secure and that when he went into witness protection nearly two years ago his absence had crushed them all. Even if the likes of Emily Prentiss and her just as stubborn as hell husband would never admit it.

“Mild tachycardia and respiratory depression -” The nurse tells her about Hotch’s underactive thyroid, something he’s supposed to take medication for ever since the stabbing damaged the organs function. How it’s throwing his heart into tachycardia and it’s getting worse, not responding to medicine yet.

Savannah may not know what happened with George Foyet but she knows Derek regards Hotch as this infallible wall of a man. One she’s come to understand he thinks can’t ever fall down and one that, despite how fondly he’ll speak about him, annoys the hell out of him. Personally, Savannah thinks Aaron Hotchner is just a sweet man. She likes him and his little quirks. He’s quite the odd pairing when he gets together with Emily and Dave but they’re a funny crowd.

What she isn’t expecting is the mess of scars littering his chest. Experience allows her to date some of them by sight - their distinct shape and coloration clustering them into the same time frame and she can’t imagine how someone gets over half a dozen wounds like that at once. They don’t end there. On his right side, there’s a nearly faded out of existence scar from a chest tube. A puncture wound- something blunt she’d assumed by way of its roundness. Even a few rougher-looking, jagged scars that she assumes are shrapnel because Derek has nearly identical ones.

Savannah is a few moments too late to prevent Hotch from being pulled down by a sedative but he’s fighting it, blinking slowly to try and remain awake. “Hey,” she greets softly, turning his wrist over so she can see IV sight in his elbow. It’s secure and there’s nothing special to note but it’s going to bruise. “Long time no see Agent Hotchner.” She squeezes his fingers, smiling at the recognition behind his eyes even if his lips only form a silent mouthed version of her name.

With a smile - remembering the first time they met and how gently he’d taken her hand before shaking his head and admonishing “everyone calls me Hotch” - she reaches down and fixes his hair. He’s let it grow out since he left the BAU. Derek had been livid when he got word that Hotch wasn’t coming back despite the fact that he too left the unit. “How are you feeling, Hotch? Can I call someone?”

His eyes slide shut and for a moment she thinks he’s given in, sunk down low where his pain and his ailments can’t get him. He taps a finger against her palm and she understands he’s still here. “Morgan?” he rasps.

She nods, “Derek already knows you’re here. I imagine he’ll have the whole crew here in no time.” He grimaces, cracking an eye open to give her a look she understands entirely. She’s only ever faced their smothering worry once when Hank was born but she knows it’s a lot. It’s hard to imagine they’re going to somehow be less present and attuned with him than they with her. He’s not looking forward to that and it’s understandable. “Don’t worry,” she promises, “I’ll have your back when they get here.”

He nods, dull eyes sinking back under his eyelids. She holds his hand until she’s certain he’s fallen asleep.

“So,” the nurse asks softly. She moves and tubes and wires around so that they’re not laying against his bare skin. Folding the blankets over Hotch’s hips and leaving his chest bare. He’s still tachycardic, breathing laboriously through inflamed lungs. “How do you know this guy?”

Savannah sits down on the edge of the bed, taking Hotch’s hand into her own. Working her thumb in gentle, hypnotic motions between his knuckles and smiling sadly at the relieved rasping sigh that leaves his parted pale lips. “Family,” she answers because she’s not sure what the answer really is but in some way… yeah, family.

The nurse nods, going about what needs to be done while Savannah stays on the edge of the bed. She does what she can until she clears her throat. “Hey,” the nurse smiles, sympathetic to the soft faraway look in Savannah’s eyes. “Doctor Hamilton admitted him so I need to take him up to the--”

Savannah stands immediately, nodding. “Yeah,” she lays his hand back down on his chest. Stepping away from the bed, “sorry.” She shakes her head, stepping back as the brakes come up and he’s set into motion. “Second floor?” Savannah assumes.

The nurse nods, “he’ll be in room one seventeen. I’ll let the desk know he’s one of yours.”

Savannah watches him disappear down the hall, met at the mouth of the hall by other nurses and staff nodding as they take him to the right floor. She’d been there long enough to see his heart monitor and to identify the ventricular tachycardia plaguing him. He’ll likely need a pacemaker and she’s already racing to a solution. He’ll need to be monitored after surgery but can go home. Hank’s a little too small still but they have the guest room. If Derek cleans up the mess he lets Hank make in there--

Savannah’s heart sinks to the floor and she turns around. Hit with the sudden memory of the last event she saw Hotch at and remembers slowly that Hotch has a son and someone needs to find him.

All morning something had been off, Hotch didn’t have to say it for Jack to know. The oatmeal was made oddly, Hotch’s hands trembling so much he’d gotten the measurements wrong. Too much brown sugar but Jack hadn’t seemed to mind it being too sweet. He’d been distracted by his oatmeal and unalarmed by signs he hasn’t learned to be aware of. If Hotch had gotten up late or made breakfast and then laid down on the couch then Jack would have noticed. Bad days come frequently and like most storms look and sound distinct.

High anxiety days are an early rise, the sound of lights being turned on and off as Hotch fails to get comfortable in any room. Coming out of his room and finding his father curled up on the couch. His knees drawn up and a pillow pressed into his chest, a heated blanket wrapped around him like a cocoon. It’s lightly tiptoeing around the house so Hotch stays asleep and avoids him once he does move and allows his aching back to stretch out. Jack knows to keep his music down and to call Jessica if Hotch locks himself away.

Though time has dampened it’s severity it’s not impossible to find his father trying to work through untreated PTSD or ride out an intense wave of depression. Leaving him immobile or desperate for a distraction. Jack knows those things. He understands them and, like the blasting siren that screams out before a tornado, Jack knows when to duck for cover and ride out the storm.

But Jack had no idea what a heart attack would look like. What to expect or even if a heart attack had been what he’d seen.

Hands over his ears, Jack Hotchner sinks into the emotionless walls surrounding him. Trying to find the place past his body where everything ceases to exist. Insistently, against his will, he’s pulled back to a decade ago. To the sound of gunshots tearing through the only home he’d ever known. To Emily wiping his tears away with the palm of her hand, their backs to the carnage his father created in the fall. To a hospital not unlike this one where his father was patched up - open wounds covered and drugs numbing his rough edges - until Jack had finally been able to see him. The feeling of his father’s chest, broad and forever, solid as he’d curled his legs into his lap. His father cried softly as he explained what happened, what he’d done.

“Mommy isn’t coming home, buddy.”

Pinching his eyes shut, Jack rocks himself back and forth. He can’t go there. Not alone. He can’t go back to Foyet. He’s too old for those silly games. Too old for nightmares and monsters hiding under his bed. Unaware of the ones still crawling out of his father’s closet, wrapping their cold fingers around his ankle and threatening to pull him into the darkness with them.

You’re never too old for monsters.

Spencer had found the time to confide in Jack about being raised by a mentally ill single mother. His intent was to demonstrate to Jack that not only did he understand the pre-teens intense fury with his father but that the emotions would abate and Jack would have only a few moments to decide what to do next. How Spencer had turned eighteen and had to have his mother committed to an institution. A decision that haunted him but that he ultimately understood it was simply the only option. One day, Spencer clarified, Jack would understand the way his father worked.

Until that moment, Jack had been more or less paying attention. When it came to all things Uncle Spence, Jack typically has a longer attention span and all the patience in the world but the moment Jack realizes this was a one-on-one sort of deal he was done. He wanted out. But Reid stuttered. That one day, and the words had come out so quickly if he’d had a chance Reid would have stopped them, Jack would realize just what that meant. He’d look at his father and all the magic of his childish love would fall away and Jack would be left with his father’s bare bones. And it would be terrifying but, often, that’s all love is: all the bits bleached down to their true forms.

He gets it now, okay? The nutty academic parent with bouts of deep depression, an obsession with their jobs, and no idea how to say I love you like everyone else. He gets the comparison now. Can he be done? He wants to go home. He’s done learning this stupid lesson about love or whatever bullshit this is supposed to represent. When does it end? It’s going to end, right?

Derek Morgan falters in the doorway, stalled like an engine as he stands at the edge of the messy room. Hank hums in Derek’s left ear, bouncing his foot against Derek’s hip as he stands stationary and trying to wrap his head around everything happening. It’s overwhelming. Derek hasn’t seen Hotch in two years and if the sight of him alone - laid out right here - doesn’t bring its own intense wave of anger and longing then the sight of his uncovered chest is it’s own thing as well.

Hotch is on the bed, curled slightly to his right with the blankets leaving his pale chilled skin open. Even with his face turned into the pillow behind his head, he looks deathly pale in comparison to the white bedspread. Entirely too limp, too still as he lays there pulling in breaths audible over the hiss of the canal running under his nose. Nearly drowned out, consumed by the natural hums of the hospital and constant motion of the monitors to his left and the dissatisfied beep of the blood-pressure cuff around his right arm.

Savannah warned him of what he’d find once he got inside in case she got called away to a patient when he got there. She told him the buzz around the staff, what Hotch’s cardiologist thought and it stung to hear her warn him ahead of time what Hotch looked like, worse, she imagined, than what Derek was imaging. Weaker, she’d said as if the word was some sort of betrayal. He’s weak and Derek can’t push him and he’d wanted to advocate for himself but he couldn’t.

With tears in his eyes, he’d promised to be on his best behavior and Derek realized just how awful he and Hotch could be towards one another. How everyone sees it. He’d wondered if… Well, if Hotch hated him for it. They’d been close once. Partners. Haley used to joke she half expected he’d steal Aaron away from her. That old joke used to make Jason laugh so hard, the two of them together were the cause of all his worry and stress. Now…

Well, now Derek is standing in a room that can’t be more than a 120-foot space with far too much equipment in it feeling like he’s never been so far away from Hotch. So disconnected.

Hotch makes a soft sound from the bed, twitching his nose and flexing his fingers. There are more drugs than blood in him, keeping him weak and tired and unable to pick apart his surroundings. Hazy eyes blink open, peeled apart like they each weigh twenty pounds, and the simple act of keeping them open burns. He can’t make out the world around him very well but he sees the empty chairs on his left and the expanse of white all around. The hospital, he knows, and no one showed up.

Maybe they finally got wise and are leaving him to his own devices. Leaving him to rot where he won’t be missed. Sinking into the fibers of the bed and disappearing. They’ll stop pumping him so full of drugs and just let him wilt away. He wants it, craves the nothing he knows he’ll find. No masks or deception or this anger he feels burning and rearing its ugly head. Just nothing.

Derek steps into the room, sniffling to draw in some noise before he steps into Hotch’s line of sight. Hoping not to startle him, as he clears his throat, meeting Hotch’s gaze for only a moment looking down at his shoes. “Just me and Hank,” he offers. He tucks his hands into his pockets. He can feel Hotch still looking at him, hearing those painstakingly slow, labored breaths. He wishes he hadn’t come. To escape all this restless vulnerability.

Hotch’s eyes sink back shut, pale lips parting to mumbling, “Derek,” under his breath. Savannah told him Hotch wouldn’t even likely know he was there. The drugs are affecting his mental facilities, sedating him to keep him calm while they run tests. When he can remember what’s happening he’s scared and when he can’t… he has a baseline memory that hardly differentiates friend from foe. It’s the latter of which Savannah needs him to be aware of because Hotch’s heart can’t handle the stress. His mind is too clouded and his body too weak, he just needs someone to hold his hand. Someone to distract him.

Derek’s expecting a conversation. For Hotch to say something. To apologize for running off or to pay Hank some sort of mind. There’s not even a stiff silence, Hotch looks so weak, so pliant Derek isn’t sure he can even speak. He realizes that despite all the hefty warnings, despite everything that he was told he still walked into this room expecting Aaron Hotchner. He wanted, he needed the man in the suit, with that stern scowl, and gravelly voice. He’d needed the mask and instead he got the man. The man without the armor, just blood.

And it scares him.

It scares Derek that Hotch can’t put up his shields, that he can’t hide and play their cat and mouse game of anger and misunderstanding. They only have blind defeat.

Derek sits down in the visitor’s chair, shushing Hank when he squirms with agitation. Hank immediately starts touching everything in sight. Reaching and leaning dangerously out of Morgan’s lap, to touch the bed and smack his hand against the rail. A sound that makes Hotch’s eyes peel open to slivers before they shut again, unbothered. “Don’t touch that,” Derek pulls Hank into his lap, redirecting his attention.

He knows, from the low whine Hank lets out, that this isn’t going to work for very long. Mercifully, there’s a knock at the door and Savannah peeks her head in. Waving at Hank who fights his limbs out of Derek’s hold to be placed on the floor so he can propel his body in the direction of his mother.

“Hello baby,” Savannah scoops him right up. Grinning at that way he toddles, that quick toddler pace because he doesn’t know how to pump the brakes. How to set himself into motion that isn’t just guided by leaning forward and running.

Derek stands from his chair, clearing his throat and glancing down at Hotch before looking back to his wife and son.

Savannah can see his hesitation, his worry. “Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and get a snack? Hmm?” She jogs Hank up in her arms and he brightens at the offering - knowing pudding or a cookie is coming his way. “Derek?” She offers out her hand to him, “come on. I’ll explain everything to you downstairs.”

“Ugh--” all he can see is Hotch shivering. His skin slick with sweat from the strain on his body but the way he’s curled into the side. Trying to produce warmth where it isn’t. “Just give me a second.” Derek knows he can’t just throw the blanket over Hotch and he works himself up, gets upset just thinking about the mass of awful scars keeping his friend held together. All the old scars are bare for anyone and everyone to see. If Hotch had the presence of mind for it, he’d be upset.

With a gentleness born with great amounts of stress, Derek gently works the lower half of the blanket over Hotch’s leg. He folds the lower half over and hesitates, stares at Hotch, and wonders just how much he’s allowed. Hotch is cold and Derek knows that means his arms too but that crosses their line. They’re never spoken out loud, only shot through glances about trust and touch but Hotch is asleep or maybe lost to his haze of drugs (and Derek’s not really sure if there’s a difference between those two things). So, he picks up Hotch’s hand, swallowing against the uncomfortable swell of his throat when he feels just how cold the other man’s skin is. He tucks Hotch’s hand carefully against his chest.

Hotch’s face twitches, a grimace that makes him jerk his head but he doesn’t move his hand so Derek leaves it. Carefully, still watching and waiting for some explosive reaction but none come. Derek turns the heated blanket up to the highest setting, making sure even Hotch’s shoulders are covered. Tucking the blanket just under his chin.

Hotch groans from the back of his throat, a startling noise that comes with blinding panic. His eyes fly open, darting around the room and to Derek but not seeing. Derek can’t tell if it’s pain or fear but the machine over his shoulder picks up pace, reflecting Hotch’s distress. Hotch swallows thickly, mouth opening and eyes flicking around the room. Twisting, fighting his body in a futile battle where he loses no matter the outcome. Kicking out and dislodging blankets as he’s blinded by his pain.

“Step back Derek.” Derek just stands there, frozen. Savannah grabs him by the arm and pulls him back, allowing other people to come into the room. “He’s okay,” she mumbles, eyes glued to Hotch. He’s fighting blindly, anything and everything. His heart can’t take it, her eyes flick from his bare skin to the monitors. To the staff also taking note. “Derek, we can’t be in here.”

They pull the crash cart close, preparing vials of medicine before their eyes.

“What’re they--” Derek can’t move. He stands there watching them move blankets out of the way. Listening as they pull open a drawer and settle a machine on top and he knows what it is. Doesn’t need to be told what’s happening next. “Savannah.” He stumbles back, shaking his head. The machine wines, a high-pitched squeal that makes Derek’s heart pick up.

He doesn’t see, doesn’t watch.

He’s standing in the hall when the machine fires off. Can close his eyes but can’t unhear the sound of Hotch’s low groan, a punched-out sound but he’s alive. Still pulling in breaths.

“Morgan?”

He was still a baby the last time Morgan saw him. Quickly trying to climb to his father’s height but every bit as graceful as a colt, and angry. Angry with his father for falling into this same repeated history and questioning what he knew. How much of his father’s strength is something else? What does he really know about the man who raised him? Because he got himself a chunk of history, started to understand the man he’d always blindly turned to. His hero. Instead, he got glimpses, stories about the boy his mother knew and he could no longer recognize him.

But standing here now is a whole teenager. Blonde hair grown out and even taller, built unmistakably like his father with all height in his legs and pale.

“Jack.” Morgan stumbles back when Jack collides into him, long arms wrapping around him. “Oh my God,” he whispers. “When the hell did you get so big?” He’s standing there, a whole armful of the kid he used to give piggyback rides to.

Jack pulls away and wipes his eyes, furiously wipes his eyes so that Morgan can unsee the tears streaming down his face. “My-- My dad,” he asks. “Did you see him?” Jack looks at the room, alerted by the sounds coming from within, but Morgan steps in the way. “Morgan is he-- is he in there?” Jack worms his way out of Morgan’s arms, a whole tangle of long limbs.

Hotch would be proud to know Jack is exactly like him, real scrappy. A lot of fight for such a lanky person.

“Jack,” Morgan pulls him away from the door. Despite how much he wants to go to Hotch too, that’s not where Jack should be. That’s not what Jack should see. “Come on, kid. We can’t go in there. Come on.” The fight leaves him easily enough, he’s really just a kid standing there looking for someone to tell him what to do. Anyone to point him where he’s supposed to be.

Jack still wants to turn, as if pulled by strings.

“I called Rossi,” Morgan offers. Something to distract him, something good. “Everyone else? Reid and Garcia and Emily? They’re on their way, okay?” And even with loaded promises Jack can’t find the nerve to respond. Their names used to be a solace. Someone to call when he needs help with his math homework. To show up with books on whatever cool thing he’s into this week. His family.

People he hasn’t seen in forever.

They do come.

Hank’s ambling about, babbling to Morgan as he pulls his father around the waiting room. It’s his excited squeal that alerts them to the other’s arrival. To Reid holding the door open so the others can pass. The pile-up that happens, shocked inhales and silence as they stand there and look at the carnage. At Jack’s tear-stained face and Morgan going where Hank pulls but empty, fearful.

“Uncle Dave?” Jack stands up, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

Dave smiles, “hey kiddo.” He doesn’t argue against the armful of Jack he gets, just closes him up. “Christ,” Dave whispers. “You’re a giant.”

“What is he feeding you?” Jack turns around and finds Emily and all she can do is laugh as he hugs her too. Finds herself all wrapped up in his long arms. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind,” she whispers, “letting you get so big.” She squeezes him tight, cups the back of his head.

There’s not much more time for reunions, never much time for anything.

“Aaron Hotchner?”

Never get used to this part either. The sitting. The waiting. The calling.

Savannah was right about the tachycardia.

“With your permission - ” and it’s important that detail be added. That Hotch can’t make this decision for himself anymore and it’s resting entirely on the shoulders of Jessica or Dave and Emily alternatively. That doesn’t mean it’s not like a kick to the gut. A cruel taunt. “We would like to prepare him for the surgery now while he’s stable.” Stable? Is that what he is? Laying back there with defibrillator pads on his chest and sedated to the point that Morgan wasn’t sure Hotch could even recognize him.

Jack sniffles, ducking his head and whispering to Emily. Attached to her hip, clinging to her. She shakes her head and brushes his hair back, “it doesn’t work like that, Jack.” Jack’s lower lip trembles and it breaks Emily’s heart so she interrupts the doctors. Despite the voice at the back of her head telling her this isn’t a good idea. Despite the sour twist in her stomach. The way she knows Hotch wouldn’t want this. “I know there are strict rules,” and that alone should be enough to know they’re likely to be shot down. “Is there any chance he can go back before the surgery? This is his son, he’s fifteen. He’ll be sixteen soon. You’re hardly breaking the rules at all.”

Soon is a bit of a stretch. Jack’s an October baby.

The doctor looks at Jack and sighs like this is really putting him off but nods. “Yeah, quickly. Five minutes, do you understand? You can’t be back there long,”

And Jack thinks he’s won something grand. That he’ll be faced with the same mirage Morgan was expecting. His dad will be sitting back there tall and strong, probably just tired like he’s sick. But he takes one step into the room and wishes he hadn’t come. Hadn’t asked.

They haven’t removed the defibrillator pads on his chest just pulled a blanket over his stomach but that only minimally covers the damage. There are still visibly warped bullet wounds and jagged surgical scars to be seen. But Dave has seen all that. He’d been there to watch the blood spray out when the scar on Hotch’s shoulder took place. Shouted as the gunshot sprayed out and Hotch grunted, being sent back into the wall behind him. But that was… God, that was a lifetime ago when Hotch was just a kid.

Dave turns behind him and sees Jack frozen in the doorway, eyes wide. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Jack nods but he can hardly move, can’t force himself to move further into the room. He’s seen his father shirtless, not enough times to really gather anything but he’s seen the damage of years of this job has caused. But this is different. Jack isn’t six, isn’t watching him shave. He’s standing there watching him pull in laborious breaths, struggling to keep living.

“You know,” Rossi sits down in the visitor’s chair. “When you were born he cried so hard that Gideon had to call me.” He looks back at Jack, watching his face for some inclination that he’s going to either come into the room or run away. “Haley was exhausted but… She was beautiful, always was. No matter if she was showing up at the office to haul your father home by the ear in her pajamas or crying her make-up off in the waiting room waiting for your knucklehead father to get out of surgery.”

But he’s missed the point.

He chances a glance to Hotch, watching his pale face twist in discomfort. “You were born at eleven at night and by that point I was already in bed and done for the night by ten kind of guy.” He can still remember sighing and almost ignoring his phone when it had gone off. “I got to the hospital and your dad was sitting on the floor just outside the room, sobbing so hard I thought he’d pass out.” It’s still pretty surprising he didn’t pass out. “Didn’t think he could do it. You were so small, small, and pink and screaming your little head off.”

Jack huffs, smiling as he kicks at the ground. Looking everywhere but his father or Dave.

“But I picked him up,” grabbed him by his shirt and forced him to his feet. Managing the tough love Gideon couldn’t bring himself to enforce. “I don’t think he stopped crying until he fell asleep. Just sitting there with you in his arms crying.” Rossi sighs shakes his head. “Honestly, you were tiny. Had a-- Had a thing with your heart and…” Rossi had held Jack after Hotch and Haley finally managed to catch some sleep. A nurse had figured he or Gideon one had to be a grandfather, why else would they be there? They’d sat there with Jack for about an hour just gushing over how small and cute he was. Trying to keep the baby content so Haley could get some sleep.

Drowsily his voice cuts through the silence, nothing but a ghost of a whisper. “An atrial septal defect.” It’s all he can manage but it’s enough to get their attention. Jack had been born with an atrial septal defect and they knew about it in advance just after Haley’s pregnancy got tricky. It was just a tiny little hole in his atrium, closed before he was a whole year old. That doesn’t mean it didn’t scare the hell out of them first. Leave them to check his bassinet every few hours. To make sure he was okay, still breathing.

“The doctor said I shouldn’t play soccer because of it.” Jack manages a few steps and comes to the very end of the bed. His fingers just barely touching the bed frame. “But you let me play anyways.”

Hotch clears his throat, shakes his head. “I didn’t. Jessica did.” He grimaces, shifting uselessly to find a position that doesn’t hurt. “Said-- She said if you were anything like me you’d find a way.” He’s talked himself breathless, gasping and fighting to breathe. “Might as well-- Might as well make it easy on myself. Just let you do it.” So he had. He signed Jack up for soccer despite his own fears and went to every match he could. Every practice. Until he was the only parent paying attention.

He coughs softly, setting off a weight and ache in his lungs. “Jessica--” he cuts himself off, coughing until he holds his breath and fists the sheets in his hand to keep from still.

Jack looks away, fixes his eyes on the floor.

Dave calls it. Hotch won’t admit he’s not okay and Dave would venture Jack has that same stubborn-streak, doesn’t want to think that Hotch isn’t okay.

“Come on,” Dave motions for Jack to follow him. “Times up, better get out of here before they kick us out.” Five or so minutes, that’s all they had and that’s passed. “You’ll be fine,” Dave promises.

He struggles to get his breath, to say something coherent. “Wait,” he grabs Dave’s shirt. Hospitals are so cold, they’re scary and miserable and he doesn’t want to be here. He wants to go home. “I’m sorry,” he manages. “I’m sorry.”

Dave pulls Jack on, can’t leave him behind, and can’t stay any longer.

“What did he mean?” Jack asks. He keeps looking back, looking over his shoulder to the room. “Why’d he say that?” He has to run to keep up with Dave’s pace. “Dave, please. Why’d he say he was sorry?”

Dave stops and just stands for a moment, looking at the hall before them. “He’s scared,” Dave answers, finally. “He’s just scared, that’s all.”

He doesn't think he’s going to make it. That’s the horrible ugly truth. That’s why he apologized. Just in case.

“Come on,” Dave holds out his arm. Smiles a smile that doesn't even try to make it to his eyes and wraps an arm around Jack. “It’s going to be okay. You know that?”

Jack looks back over his shoulder once more, to the room. He doesn’t buy it for a second but he nods anyway. “Course,” he answers.

“Good. That’s good.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #savannah hayes #derek morgan #hank morgan #jack hotchner #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau

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hiccanna-tidbits · 3 years

Note

okay, okay but hear me out!

Hiccanna, Moanida and Jackunzel (and maybe someone else if u want) going on a holiday trip together (it could be sea or lake or just swimming pool).

And that three couples playing "chicken fight game"~ When u have to sit on partner shoulder or ridding piggy-back and knock down or separate the other couple!

sksksks just imagine the fun and the chaos!! hahaha

Okay SO I recently watched Palm Springs so I’m just imagining The Gang going to like…a fancy pool resort in like Arizona??? SURE LET’S GO WITH THAT

I’m imagining the only resort the gang could afford to stay at is someplace out in the middle of Arizona or something

It takes a LOT of persuading to get Jack to go, because he haaaaates deserts. Rapunzel basically has to beg. Moana finally managed to bribe him with really good homemade ice slushies. (She’s used to making smoothies for Merida, so how hard can slushies be??? Just throw in some ice!)

Rapunzel offers to help Moana with the slushies, since she gave Jack SO many puppy dog eyes to get him to come. Since they’ve got two people working on them, they’re REALLY good slushies. Jack approves.

Anna also tries to convince Elsa to go, but the perpetually-single Elsa is just like “Um, deserts? Sunburns? Being indefinitely stuck with gross couples doing gross couple stuff?!? Yeah no thank you”

Hiccup tries to wake everyone up at like 6 am to go hiking because "that's when the desert iguanas are out guys!!! C'mon, we have to go!!!" Anna is only persuaded to go after Hiccup makes her coffee--she really wants to make her bf happy, but also mornings can suck her dick. Rapunzel is more than happy to go, because she loves mornings anyways!!! And oh my god, IGUANAS!!! Jack, Merida, and Moana are like "oh FUCK no" and put the pillow back over their head, shoo Hiccup away, and go back to sleep.

On their hike, Hiccup just goes "!!!!!!!" about every reptile he sees. Snake, lizard, horny toad, literally anything with scales will send the boy into an excited frenzy. Rapunzel has similar reactions. Anna could not love both of them more.

At one point, they stumble across a gila monster sunbathing, and Rapunzel is overtaken with the unwavering desire to adopt him. She gets Hiccup on board, and he tries to lure the lizard over with a dusty piece of a snake carcass he found (Anna tried to tell him he really shouldn't touch that, but he was not to be swayed and Anna ended up figuring he could just wash his hands really well when they got back). Anna finds herself in the unusual position of having to be the Voice of Reason, having to be like “hey uh I think this might be illegal and stuff??? Also aren't they poisonous???”

(I know what you're thinking. Bold of you to assume Anna knows the difference between poisonous and venomous.)

Rapunzel literally CANNOT stop gushing to Jack about all the wildlife she saw when she gets back! Jackrabbits! Kangaroo rats! Roadrunners! Peccaries! Centipedes! Jack has only mild to moderate interest in desert ecology, but loves hearing his gf gush so he listens attentively anyways.

Anna and Rapunzel definitely hit up the gift shops in the resort town at some point, and go ABSOLUTELY BATSHIT HOGWILD buying gifts for everyone. They probably max out their credit cards. It's embarrassing, really. But Anna gets Hiccup an absolute shitton of those little wall lizard things and he nearly cries tears of joy when he sees them, so it's all worth it, really.

Moana will not leave the pool like. The entire time. The girl is just obsessed with being in the water, honestly. She gets restless, though, and can't just stand in the pool and vibe--she needs to constantly be moving and swimming around or she'll explode. Merida is more than happy to indulge her by hanging out in the poor with her, but Merida is also constantly challenging her to swim races--a very dumb idea, considering Moana is on the high school swim team and water polo team. Merida, naturally, is an extremely sore loser and is not above excessive pouting, splashing, yelling in angry Scottish, and dunking her girlfriend in revenge. It's at least entertaining for all of their friends to watch.

Jack keeps fucking taking huge buckets of ice from the ice machine and dumping them in the pool. At first he only does this because he keeps griping about the pool not being cold enough (this boy will accept nothing less than sitting in the goddamn arctic ocean), but after her figures out that it pisses off his friends, he takes to pouring said ice directly over their heads. Merida has threatened to murder him several times for this.

Hiccup and Anna's main pool activity is just lazing around on their pool floaties (Anna has a duck one, Hicccup has a dragon one because obviously), sipping cocktails, and just generally vibing. Through some ungodly mixture of pure charisma and a fake ID that Rapunzel helped photoshop, Jack manages to talk his way into getting the whole group access to alcohol. Hiccup is a sangria or Moscow Mule kinda guy while Anna usually gets a Pina Colada or a Sex on the Beach (she's aspec, so she literally will not stop joking about the irony of this). Merida makes a game out of attempting to tip over their floaties and dunk them. Jack, chaos gremlin that he is, puts aside his usual rivalry with Merida to join in. They have a surprisingly strong dunking alliance.

Hiccup and Anna try to form a syndicate of their own, and try to lounge on the same floatie so that they can protect each other while fighting off Jack and Merida together. Unfortunately neither of their floaties were made to hold 2 peoples' weight, so the one they're on ends up tipping over, spilling their cocktails everywhere and dunking them anyways. Jack and Merida consider this a Win By Default.

Moana of course loops everyone into playing water polo at some point. Unfortunately some idiot decided it would be a good idea to let Merida of all people pick the teams, which means of course that they are incredibly rigged. It's Moana, Merida and Anna vs. Jack, Rapunzel, and Hiccup, so basically The Jocks vs. The Nerds (although admittedly Anna is more of a softcore jock--she's nowhere near on Moana or Merida's level, but she's still more naturally athletic than Hiccup, Rapunzel, or Jack). Naturally, Jock Team absolutely whoops Nerd Team's ass. Jack gets salty and demands a rematch. ...Jock Team kicks Nerd Team's ass again.

Throughout all of this, no one thinks to just...rearrange the teams a little. Merida was counting on this. All according to plan.

In the titular chicken game (yes, I remembered, don't worry!), it's Merida on Moana's shoulders (Moana swims and has a lot of upper body strength, what can I say?), Hiccup on Anna's shoulders (I mean...Hiccup's a twig, and Anna HAS to have a fair amount of upper body strength from throwing busts around and punching men off boats and such), and Punz on Jack's shoulders (Jack's pretty lithe and good at keeping his balance while jumping around, so he's their best candidate for not just falling over).

Jack and Rapunzel actually manage to stay in the game longer than anyone expects--their primary strategy is “be good at dodging and staying out of the way while Merida and Hiccup duke it out.” And it works! As limber as Hiccup is, Anna's not nearly as coordinated as Jack and is no match for Moana's sturdy footing. Also, neither Anna nor Hiccup are prepared for how goddamn ruthless and determined to win Merida is. Even though they really, really should have been. I mean...have you met Merida???

When it comes down to Merida-Moana and Rapunzel-Jack, Mer feels a little bad for having to go up against Pure Sweet Punzie. Unfortunately, Rapunzel turns out to be a very hardcore fighter when she puts her mind to it, and Merida is much more evenly matched than she initially thought and realizes she must use her Full Power. It definitely helps her snap out of Going Soft when Jack starts brutally roasting Merida in particular (as per usual). Merida gets a rage-fueled Second Wave, and finally manages to knock Rapunzel over in one foul swoop. Merida and Moana are victorious!

Moana and Merida basically always shower together after a day at the pool. They claim it's because they both know how to handle curly hair in chlorine, and just like to wash each other's hair, but the rest of the gang is pretty sure that's not all that's going on in there.

One day, Anna hits up the resort town alone to buy some kind of secret gifts for her friends with what little money she has left (this girl seriously has no chill when it comes to buying presents). She goes past this huge, fancy ice cream shop and she's like “!!!! OMG!!! I'm gonna surprise all my buddies with pints of their faves!!!” She just gets super hyped and buys everyone ice cream, getting so caught up in the thrill of it that she forgets that she'll have to like. Drive all this back all the way back to the resort in the rental car. In like. You know. 110+ degree weather.

By the time she gets back to the resort, the ice cream is, of course, goop. Poor Anna, feeling incredibly dumb and like an utter failure of a friend, just kind of bursts into tears. Like damn. This is too much. She was gonna make all her pals so happy, and all for naught! Jack just kinda shrugs and throws all the melted ice cream cartons in the freezer anyways. Once they're (partially) re-frozen, Rapunzel and Moana make slushies with them. They actually come out pretty decent. Anna is substantially cheered up.

Moana prepares some tropical fruit platters for everyone to snack on. Rapunzel tries to “improve” them by adding chocolate sauce and nutella to half of them. Sometimes it works (I mean...bananas and strawberries with chocolate and/or nutella is pretty solid). Other times it just tastes...very weird. Merida gest frustrated and yells at Rapunzel for “ruining all of her girlfriend's good mangoes.”

Jack just thinks this whole thing is so funny, and decides to swap the chocolate sauce with barbecue sauce to cause further chaos. Absolute mayhem ensures. Everyone has a bad time. Except for Anna, who apparently is just a freak who enjoys eating pineapple slices dipped in barbecue sauce.

At some point, Merida gets really drunk on appletinis or some shit and signs the entire group up for a local archery competition. Much to everyone's chagrin, it's no refunds. Naturally, basically everyone sans Merida does terrible. Rapunzel and Hiccup very nearly shoot themselves, while Jack and Anna come very close to accidentally shooting a group of referees (although Jack might have done this on purpose). Moana gets the farthest, if only because Merida's taught her how to shoot a bow at some point. Merida actually ends up winning--although unfortunately, the prize is $20 and a very cheap plastic trophy (which Merida STILL manages to find a way to break before the trip is even over).

The rest of the group is much more amicable to the concept of going on hikes when said hikes are in the evening. Hiccup and Rapunzel are still excitedly chattering about the local ecosystems the entire time, and Jack and Anna are just kind of looking at their nerdy SOs like “<3 <3 <3″ Moana and Merida, meanwhile, are just kinda vibing in the back, passively listening in and watching the desert sunset.

Rapunzel manages to capture Mer and Mo's interest and gets them to participate more with geology, of all things. Merida just thinks rocks are cool (especially when they can be thrown at people bothering her!), while Moana likes learning about the physical history of places--how water can carve out landscapes, and all that. Hiccup and Jack just kind of exchange a look like “I had no idea that they were into rocks, but...the more you know, I guess???”

Jack makes fun of every reptile they see, mainly to piss Hiccup off. Unfortunately it has the opposite effect, and Hiccup can't help but be entertained--mainly because Jack's insults are so weirdly specific and over-the-top that they loop around to being hilarious. Seriously, he keeps saying shit like “Those are the lamest scales I've ever seen. Absolutely drab, and not nearly shiny enough to prove that nature is beautiful. 0/10.” and “Ohhhh, this fucking rattlesnake think's he's so scary, with his dumb percussion instrument tail!!! I could be more intimidating with a mean look and a large pair of maracas!”

At some point, a bunch of tourists riding donkeys pass them. Anna, Rapunzel, and Merida just absolutely lose their shit fangirling over how cute the donkeys are, thus exposing all three of them as the unabashed Horse Girls they are. Hiccup, Jack, and Moana find this extremely amusing, and definitely aren't above teasing their girlfriends about it. Hiccup asks if next time they take a couples' vacation, the Horse Gang (as Moana insists on nicknaming them) would like to go to a ranch instead.

Anna gets like. Obsessed with palm trees. Like they're just so pretty and exotic and tropical!!! OMG!!! And they definitely don't have them wherever the gang is from in this AU. (Also if griping about Elsa not having "tropical powers" is anything to go by, she DOES canonically like the tropics!) She has to take a picture of like...every palm tree on her phone. And considering the gang is in Arizona, that means Anna is stopping to take a picture like...every 2 minutes. Rapunzel catches onto the fact that Anna likes them, and paints her a picture with some when Punz has the time. Anna definitely cries when she sees it. Hiccup can't do nearly that good, but he does buy her some little plastic figurine ones in a gift shop that she can put in her room. Anna also cries about this. She just cries whenever any of her friends indulge her random fixation on palm trees. Surely she doesn't deserve such niceties!!!

Rapunzel is just. In love with the desert landscape tbh. Like the huge funky cacti!!! The shrubs!!! The desert wildflowers!!! The mesas!!! All of it!!! So of course she needs to pull out her easel and paint it. Jack walks by one day and sees her working on it and, partly just to troll her, he's like “put some snow in it!” As he walks away, Rapunzel just stops like “wait...that'd actually be such a great idea for a surrealist-type fantasy piece!!!” After she finishes the main landscape, she adds an overcoat of little puffs of snow on top of everything, and has some clumps falling off of the cacti. When she shows Jack, he just about cries tears of joy, but frantically tries to hide it. She gives the painting to him as a present at the end of the trip. He hangs that shit front-in-center in his room and cherishes it forever and ever.

At some point, Jack gets the ingenious idea that he's going to prank Merida by catching a tarantula and leaving it in her room. It's one of the harmless ones--Jack fact-checks this by offhandedly asking Hiccup and framing it as a casual interest in local etymology. Still, Merida screams far louder than is at all dignified, and also probably loud enough to wake a neighboring country. Rapunzel later has to physically hold Merida back to keep her from absolutely beating Jack into a pulp. Rapunzel also manages to get the World's Largest Sheet of Cardboard and the World's Largest Cup and somehow manages to get the damn thing back outside.

#rotbtd #rotbtfd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the big four #jackunzel #hiccanna #moanida #jack frost #rapunzel #merida #hiccup #anna #moana #headcanons #hcs #vacation au #my askbox

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newtsies · 3 years

Text

Wish You Were Sober || Ralbert One Shot

a/n: this one shot is based off the song ‘Wish You Were Sober’ by Conan Gray! anything italicized and bold is lyrics of the song! its from Alberts perspective but its 3rd person if that makes sense idk. includes both 92sies and livesies characters. albert and race are based off of the livesies characters

tw: mentions of alcohol, drunk race, swearing, mentions of weed, mentions of possible drink spiking

modern college newsies au!

word count: 2,401

this party's shit

All Albert wants to do is leave, but he couldn’t do that. Race was drunk, even though he would deny it, it was obvious. Now usually that wouldn’t stop Albert from leaving but, Racetrack had driven himself. He couldn’t let his drunk friend drive himself home.

“Racer,” Albert yelled into Race’s ear over the loud music.

He grinned widely at him and threw his arms around Albert, “Albie!! Have ya had a drink yet? C’monn, juss take a sip!”

Albert winced at the smell of alcohol on the blonde boys breath and shook his head, “You’re drunk, Race. Let’s go. You’re gonna have a horrible hangover tomorrow!”

“Aw, I’m not drunk, Albie!!” He slurred, “C’mon, have some fun! Don’t be soo tense!”

go anywhere but here

“Racetrack, I really don’t want to be here,” Albert begged, “Can’t we go to McDonalds or something? Get you coffee and get you sober?” Race shook his head.

“Noo, they have good drinks! Just try the beer, you’ll see!” Race raised his can but Albert pushed the cup away from him. Race shrugged and walked away into the crowd.

Albert stood on his toes in attempt to follow his friend through the crowd. Race walked towards Jack Kelly, the football captain, who had his arm wrapped around David Jacobs shoulder. As Racetrack sat down, he was offered a blunt from Skittery.

don’t take a hit

Racetrack pulled it to his lips and inhaled. Albert frowned as he watched his friend blow out the smoke and smile. He repeated this action a couple more times.

Albert shook his head again and made his way back to a couch. He sat down, trying to get away from the loudness. The music still boomed, even in the farthest corners of the house. People bumped into his leg and shouted over each other. He closed his eyes and covered his ears in an attempt to escape his reality.

A few seconds passed before he felt someone sit next to him. He opened his eyes to see Racetrack, still holding the joint. Albert was met with a tired looking smile, but he knew his friend was anything but tired. Race started to lean into his face, but Albert pushed his face away lightly.

don’t kiss my lips

Race frowned for a second but shrugged and went back to smoking. Eventually, he got up and handed the blunt back to Skittery. Albert watched as he danced to the music, carefree. Acting as though there was no one else in the world.

Albert was memorized and watched him with a grin. The song ended, Race made his way to the kitchen. Albert jumped up and followed him, pushing through the crowd.

“Race!” He called, finally pushing into the kitchen.

and please don’t drink more beer

Racetrack brought the can of beer up to his lips and chugged it down. Albert winced once more and attempted to pull the drink away. However, he was ignored and pushed away as his friend continued to drink.

“Race, you’re cross-faded,” Albert groaned, “I really think you should go home. I’ll drive you, or walk you.”

“I’m fine, Albie! Honestly. It’s a partyyy, this is supposed to happen!” Race stated confidently, his words slurring every so often. Albert shook his head and looked at Race desperately. His friend ignored him and instead grabbed onto his hand and pulled him through the house.

“Albert! Racetrack!” Spot called out to them, “Hey guys!”

“Spott!” Race slurred and giggled. He pulled Albert towards to Spot.

Spot had a beer in hand but placed a hand on Race’s chest to hold him up, “Jesus, Race. You’re drunk as hell. Having a good time?” Racetrack nodded excitedly at him. Spot smiled and looked at Albert. “Haven’t had a drink yet, man?”

“He wants to goo, can you believe him?” Race scoffed.

“Albert! C’mon, man! You gotta just let loose some times!” Spot quirked his eyebrow and held out his drink to Albert.

Albert shook his head, “No thanks, Spot. This really isn’t my kinda place. Thanks though, it was pretty cool. I had fun.” That was a lie. There was nothing fun about this to him, but you wouldn’t catch him dissing the football captains party.

i’ma crawl out the window now

Albert pulled away from Race’s hand and pushed his way to the front door. Sarah Jacobs was using the door to support her back as she giggled her way through kisses with Elmer. Elmer too was laughing as he kissed her and ran his hands through her hair.

Albert sighed and swerved towards an open window. He climbed through it and fell onto the grass. The grass was cold and wet, possibly from dew or possibly from spilled alcohol. He groaned and walked out.

cause i don’t like anyone around

He was grateful to finally be away from everyone. The music was a lot quieter and he could only faintly hear people talking. Although he had no beer, his head was pounding. He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

kinda hope you’re followin’ me out

He heard someone fall through the window and turned around to see who it was. Instead of being met with Race, as he hoped, he saw Henry on the floor laughing. Henry jumped out and shouted at the boys as he pulled himself back in through the window.

but this is definitely not my crowd

Romeo was passed out on the stairs, his head hanging off the step. His arm was hanging off too but his hand was wrapped firmly around a can of beer. Mush and Kid Blink were making out against the door too, except on the front side. They weren’t giggling either, just kissing each other.

A baseball flew threw one of the windows and nearly hit Albert, who ducked just in time. The whole window was shattered. Albert shook his head and continued to walk throw the lawn until he got to the sidewalk.

19 but you act 25 now

Albert was stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulder, weakly attempting to hold him back. He turned to see Race who was panting and smiling at him. Albert smiled a little back at him and helped him stand up straight.

“They had so much alcohol! It was all amazing- They had- They had the best brands too! The wine made me feel so fancy!” Race rambled.

Albert chuckled a little, “You’re 19, Race. How do you know so much about alcohol? You can’t even legally drink it yet.”

His friend grinned and shrugged as he kept talking about the party.

knees weak, but you talk pretty proud, wow

Race was all but wobbling, leaning against Albert for support. Nonetheless, he continued to talk about his adventures clearly.

“I downed like 5 cans,” He stated proudly, “Hey, did you know Crutchie is like amazing at chugging! He downed like 8 beer cans! Oh, today. Spot taught me that space doesn’t stop expanding, isn’t that crazy?”

Albert nodded, pretending as if they didn’t learn that in 8th grade. Race looked at the cup in his hand, noticing it still had liquid in it. He grinned and brought it to his lips, drinking the practically full cup in just one gulp. Albert sighed.

ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed

Race shivered as cold air hit his knees through the rips in his jeans. His flannel blew behind him and presented the white tank top underneath it. He held the empty cup in his hand.

Albert couldn’t help but watch Race. His friend was very attractive, he wouldn’t deny it to himself, only to other. Racetrack crumpled the cup and tossed it into some yard.

“That’s not good for the environment,” Albert sighed, but Race just shrugged at him. Albert continued, “What was in the cup?”

trade drinks, but you don’t even know her

“Dunno! Me and this reallyyyy pretty girl traded drinks!” He grinned.

“Who was it?”Albert asked.

“No idea,” Race chuckled, “Never seen her before! Didn’t ask for her name, music was too loud.”

“Race!” Albert groaned, “The drink coulda been spiked!”

“Nah,” He laughed, “Saw her drink out of it before we traded. Plus, I feel fine. I left anyways, so it’ll be okay.”

save me ‘til the party is over

“Anyways, I noticed you were gone. Thought you were kidding. Decided I’ll keep you company ‘til the party ended. Consider it me saving you,” Race grinned, his words slurring even more than at the party.

Albert forced a smile and shook his head.

“Give me your keys,” Albert stated. Race tilted his head in confusion but gave him the keys anyway. They walked together to Race’s Rover. Albert held the door open for Race and helped him inside. He then closed the door and climbed into the drivers side.

kiss me in the seat of your rover

As soon as he got into the driver seat, Race grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. For a second, Albert forgot his friend was drunk. He slid his hand into Race’s hair and kissed him back, until he opened his mouth and Albert could taste the alcohol Race had drank. Albert pulled away and pushed away Race’s hands away as his friend attempted to pull him into a kiss again.

real sweet but i wish you were sober

Albert looked up and held his eyes open, attempting to hold back tears. He closed his eyes and banged his head gently against the steering wheel.

“Why did you pull away,” Race whispered.

“You’re drunk,” Albert choked out, “You’ll forget tomorrow, anyways. I can’t kiss you. Just drunken feelings, Race, that’s what you’re feeling. I don’t feel that. I got real feeling, sober feelings. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

trip down the road

Albert turned the keys and started the car. Driving off towards Race’s house. Nearly halfway there, the car started sputtering. He pulled off to the side, only to see the gas tank was empty.

He groaned and got out of the car, pulling Race out too. Albert called Tripple-A.

“We can take you boys home,” The tow-truck driver offered. Albert shook his head.

“We’ll walk, it’s only a bit from here,” Albert stated and pulled Race along the sidewalk.

walking you home

Race couldn’t walk straight. Albert was holding his hand and pulling him, but he kept tripping. Albert sighed and ducked under Race’s armpit and supported him. He wrapped his arm around his blonde friend’s waist and held him up.

Albert continued to walk himself and Race towards the rental house his friend lived at. After a bit, they finally arrive at the house. Albert walked him up the porch.

you kiss me at your door

Racetrack grabbed Albert’s face and pulled him into a kiss again. Albert sighed and pulled away, resting his forehead against Race’s. Race sighed too, the alcohol on his breath filled Albert’s nose. He groaned and grabbed his friends keys.

He pulled Race into his own house and sat him down on the couch, moving to the kitchen. Albert quickly made coffee, black coffee, and sat down next to Race. He brought the cup up to Racetrack’s lips and made him drink it.

Race’s nose wrinkled at the bitter taste, but he drank it anyways. Albert brought the cup down and place it on the table.

“Finish drinking the coffee. Take this,” Albert placed an ibuprofen on the table, “Then go to sleep, okay? I’ll come check up on you tomorrow.” He started to get up.

pulling me close, beg me stay over

Race pulled Albert close to him, and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Stay, Albert. Please,” He begged, “You can stay on the couch. Don’t leave me here alone.”

but i’m over the roller coaster

Albert sighed and kissed Race on the forehead, “Not this time, Race. You’ve kissed me twice today, and you’ll forget that in like 5 minutes. I’m tired, man. It’s been a crazy day. Tomorrow, I’ll be back. I promise. I gotta go.”

i’ma crawl out the window now

He placed the house keys on the table and moved towards the door. Albert figured that Race wouldn’t get up, meaning he wouldn’t lock the door behind Albert. So, he locked the door for him then crawled out of Race’s window. He closed the window behind him and watched Race’s hand lazily lock the window.

getting good at saying, “gotta bounce”

Albert didn’t expect to drag himself home. Usually, he would just go along with what Race said. “Stay,” was all it usually took to get him to stay.

He’s just getting better at saying goodbye, he figures.

honestly you always let me down

Race was always dragging him to things, promising to not drink. It never happened. He would always drag him home and make sure he didn’t die. But, no matter how many times Race let him down, Albert would still go along with him.

Albert grumpily walked into his house, angrily slamming the door behind him. He kissed Race twice today. His friend wouldn’t even remember. He shook back tears before climbing into bed and falling asleep.

He woke up early the next morning due to a consistent ringing of his door bell. A hand banged on the door repeatedly while the door bell rang. Albert climbed out of bed and opened the door.

and i know we’re not just hanging out

Albert didn’t even get a minute to register who was at the door before he was pulled into a kiss.

“I didn’t forget,” Race whispered into his ear before pulling him back into another kiss. Albert grinned and finally kissed him back.

No trace of alcohol was in Race’s system.

He was sober.

#hope you enjoyed!!#ralbert #race albert #racetrack albert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #racetrack newsies #albert newsies #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #newsies oneshot #oneshot #newsies #ralbert oneshot #ralbert fanfic #conan gray

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5-jorjas-in-the-fence · 3 years

Text

Fearless (Taylor’s Version) as Newsies

Fearless: Romeo. Yes I know you think he’d be love story but he’s such a hopeless romantic I can guarantee he lives for the whole ‘take my hand and drag me head first fearless’. Plus he’s a pretty timid guy, so him being fearless is just *chefs kiss*

Fifteen: Davey. I feel like he’s made some bad choices which is why he’s so careful. He definitely lives by ‘I found time can heal most anything’

Love Story: Race, the dramatic little f*cker, lives for Love Story. Don’t act like he won’t speed down a freeway screaming at the top of his lungs while whoever is in the passenger seat (usually Albert) looks at him with great concern.

Hey Stephen: Les. He probably has written poetry for some girl in his class. Plus it’s such a wholesome song, I’m just imagining his little voice in the back seat of the car singing ‘I CANT HELP IT IF YA LOOK LIKE AN ANGEL, CANT HELP IT IF I WANNA KISS YA IN THE RAIN SO COME FEEL THIS MAGIC IVE BEEN FEELING SINCE I MET YOU’ and then Davey (who’s driving, he doesn’t trust anyone else to give Les lifts unless it’s Jack or Sarah) Just turns it up so he doesn’t have to hear Les’s screeching

White Horse: oh boy time to ✨cry✨ and you know who relates to this song? Albert. Not sure why, he has a lot of feelings so for him a song about pure hurt is up his ally. He loves all the lyrics and ‘I’m gonna find someone some day who might ACTUALLY TREAT ME WELL’ he screams a little too passionately and then race is there like ‘am I a joke to you 👁👄👁’

You Belong With Me: Crutchie lives for this song. It’s so fun and he loves humming it and he just- he loves a good classic. He definitely has a Junior Jewels shirt that he got all the newsies to sign. It’s his favourite pyjama shirt.

Breathe: Elmer. Probably cause he has nine siblings and he had to leave them, he was hella close to them so now he’s alone... I’m fine

Tell Me Why: Henry. ‘CAUSE YOURE THE ONLY THING ON MYYYYY MIND’ he does that and points his finger dramatically. I have this weird head canon that he takes SO LONG in the bathroom so he sings into his shampoo bottle and looks in the mirror... yeah it’s a lot.

You’re Not Sorry: Specs. It slaps. So does Specs. In conclusion: yes.

The Way I Loved You: Jack. Now The Way I Loved You is about two people. The one they’re currently with, and the ex. So for him I feel like he’s not really sure what his feelings are doing, so he misses his ex while he’s with his current partner... yikes. Someone get the boy some therapy he needs it.

Forever and Always: Spot. He’s angry. He’s going feral. ‘OhhhHHHHH AND IT RAINS IN YOUR BEDROOM EVERYTHING IS WRONG, IT RAINS WHEN YOURE HERE AND IT RAINS WHEN YOURE GONE’ yeah he’s really into it... like he’s popping off. Specifically that part where Taylor is full on P I S S E D and that high note comes up.

The Best Day: *don’t touch me I’m crying* Katherine (pt 1, yeah she has two songs stfu like you didn’t see that coming) k so she loves the best day cause she ✨lost her mother✨ when she was 14 so uhhh, she just likes it cause it reminds her of her... which is sad... oh fearless OG came out when her mum was around as well, so when she lost her she probably played The Best Day to cope.

Change: oh all of them I mean have you HEARD it??? ‘It was the night things changed, I can feel it now, all the walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down itS A REVOLUTIONNNNNNNN SO THROW YOUR HANDS UP CAUSE WE NEVER GAVEEEEE INNNNNNNnnnNn *inhales* AND WELL SING HALLELU-‘ yeah it slaps.

Jump Then Fall: SARAH JACOBS!!! It’s so soft and I can BET she kinda sits there quietly watching her SO and then is like ‘holy shit- fuck their laugh- oh my god’ and has moments where she’s like ‘my gosh I love them’ and she’s so comforting and warm. So the whole line ‘I’ll hold you through the night until you smile...’ cause she knows that she wants to fall in love so bad but she’s also like ‘please don’t be afraid to fall please just love me holy shit I love you’

Come In With The Rain: gosh idk they all scream the chorus at the top of their lungs (there are so many tracks on this album I’m just going to have to skip songs where I can’t think of anyone 🧍‍♀️

There’s also probably gonna be a few repeats

Superstar: Pulitzer thinking about Teddy Roosevelt 😏

Today Was A Fairytale: Albert, he deserves a happy song. After a happy date he dances around the room singing it, until someone knocks on the door and he’s like ‘shit they heard me’

Mr Perfectly Fine: ohhhhhhhHHHH KATHERINE MY QUEEN. She’s p i s s e d. She’s m a d. She’s p a s s i o n a t e. She’s also still with Jack at the time so he’s like ‘wtf’ scared for his life- then he uhhhh breaks up with her... cause of valid reasons and is ok but still broken and that takes her love for the song to a whole new level cause she always got it but never got it. Not she’s on the verge of smashing a vase as she screams it.

We Were Happy: ✨newsbians✨ just for the line ‘talking bout your daddys farm we were gonna buy some day’. Idk if I ever like- posted about it but Chandler @tarantulas4davey and I had a wholeeee thing for cottage core Kath and Sarah so yk

Don’t You: Jack. He’s a mess. Wbk.

Bye Bye Baby: Race. he just wants to live that main character life cause he’s dramatic so... ‘it wasn’t just like a movie, the rain didn’t soak through my clothes, down to my skin’ honestly same. What a mood.

Love story Remix: THEYRE ALL VIBING

Anyway, in conclusion: yeehaw.

Stream Fearless Taylors Version. Please send in asks asking to elaboration or something if you want to :)

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bau-baby · 3 years

Text

the ultimate loss. 1/?

aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: Haley was your friend, and you’re dealing with her loss, just as Aaron was. When the grief subsides, what happens to you and Aaron?

Word count: 1,880

warnings: grief, loss

(A/N): Because it took so long for me to finish this, I decided to end my suffering of trying to figure out where to take the storyline within this fic and get to work on a part 2. Sorry for the wait!!

W.S. Gilbert wrote, “It’s love that makes the world go ‘round.” And if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Haley in it.

You remember the first time you saw the Hotchner family unit in their own element. It was definitely a sight for sore eyes. The total admiration and love Haley and Aaron had both for each other as well as their son, Jack, was unmatched. You were out in their backyard, sitting and watching Jack run around while chatting amongst yourselves, hearing old stories from before your time at the BAU. Your friendship with Haley only grew from there.

Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles, but if there’s one thing we agreed upon unconditionally, it was our love and commitment to our son, Jack.

You were there for them through all the hell that led up to the divorce. You watched as Haley tore herself up for thinking of leaving and saw how Aaron buried himself in his work to distract him from the problem. You knew that Haley loved Aaron and that Aaron loved Haley all the same. It was just a matter of the time the job took away from them, and ultimately what was best for Jack.

Haley’s love for Jack was joyous and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today.

After the divorce, you tried to visit Haley often, filling her in on how the team and Aaron specifically were doing. You’d help out with Jack, and he ended up adoring you and your visits. Haley grew to you quickly as well. Sure, you were friends before, but your caring nature made you two become much better friends outside of the connection you’d had with her being the boss’ ex-wife.

A mother’s love is an unrivaled force of nature, and we all can learn much from the way Haley lived her life.

The fear in her eyes when you went in with SWAT to get Haley and Jack was something you’d never seen from her before. She was one of the strongest mothers you knew. She did everything to make sure her son was happy. When she got to the hospital, you saw how she talked with Aaron. You saw the twenty-year-old smile lines shine through to their faces, and you realized that you had missed their lifetime of being together. Sure, you had the hilarious retellings of high school and college-age Aaron, but you think they lived through a whole other world before you showed up.

Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives to measure who we are, and what we’ve become. I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together, and I will make sure that Jack grows up knowing who his mother was and how she loved and protected him and how much I loved her.

You never realized how close not only you and Haley were, but how close you and Aaron were until after Haley and Jack were put into WITSEC. You and Aaron kept each other sane while they were gone, and you both worked just as hard on finding George Foyet. You’d spend late nights at Aaron’s apartment pouring over the details of the case, hoping something will jump out of the files and tell you where he’s hiding out and what he’s planning, but to no avail.

If Haley were with us today, she would ask us not to mourn her death, but to celebrate her life. She would tell us… she would tell us to love our families unconditionally and to hold them close ‘cause in the end, they are all that matter.

You were in an SUV by yourself, racing against the clock to get to Haley and Jack as you listened in on the call before you. You could hear the strain in Aaron’s voice, the way he had to keep everything at bay to keep a somewhat strong front. You heard Haley as she cried, making Aaron promise to tell Jack about how she and Aaron loved one another and loved him, and to tell Jack of times when Aaron wasn’t so serious. You made your own promise then, a promise to keep Haley’s memory alive in Jack, and to make sure both Aaron and Jack are taken care of.

When the three shots rang out, you put your foot to the floorboard and sped to Fairfax. You knew Aaron was doing the same thing. You had to make sure that he and Jack made it out of this alive, and had to put Foyet away for all the pain and suffering he caused.

I met Haley at the tryouts of our high school’s production of The Pirates of the Penzance. I found our copy of the play and I was looking through it the other night, and I came upon a passage that seemed… appropriate for this moment. “Oh dry the glistening tear that dews that martial cheek. Thy loving children here in them thy comfort seek. With sympathetic care, their arms around thee creep. For oh they cannot bear to see their father weep.”

You see the car Hotch used in front of his old family home, and you dash inside the house, brandishing your gun as you checked the house. That’s when you hear the sound coming from the formal dining room area, a harsh thumping and loud sobs belonging to Aaron. You see him over what used to be Foyet, and you run to him, pulling him away.

“He’s dead, Hotch! He’s gone! You’re okay!”

He breaks down crying from there, an inconsolable man crying at the feet of his ex-wife’s killer.

-----

Something you never thought you’d have to do was not only bury a friend of yours but also comfort her inconsolable husband and kid. As Aaron spoke of Haley and all that she was, you stood off his left shoulder, a hand resting on Aaron’s shoulder as well as Jack’s.

You just stared down at the casket, tears staining the top of your coat. There wasn’t a dry eye as you all listened to a mourning husband who was sharing more of himself right now than he ever has or will again.

You feel a small hand tug on your sleeve, and you look down to see Jack staring up at you. You crouch down, taking your hand off Aaron’s shoulder.

“What’s up, buddy?” Your shaky voice asks, even though you tried to keep an even tone.

Jack doesn’t even speak, he just wraps his small arms around your neck and burrows his head into your shoulder. You hold a hand on the back of his head, hoping and failing to hide him from the harsh reality in front of him.

When the service ends and you’re all passing Aaron and Jack, you hang back for a second to look at all the roses on Haley’s casket before walking over to the sullen-eyed man.

“I just wanted to say that if either of you ever needs anything, I’m a phone call away,” You crouch down to be at Jack’s level, “Take care of your dad, okay buddy?” He nods, looking up to his dad. You stand back up and spare one more look at Aaron before walking over to one of the few cars left by the curb.

-----

JJ gets the one call you dread as you sit around the table, all not-so-subtly glancing out the window to Aaron and Dave throughout your time conversing. The entire team then shifts their gaze to you, variations of sad, knowing looks gracing their faces. They all know that you and Aaron have been close since you joined, so they always looked to you when someone needed to talk to the big boss man.

To save you the embarrassment of being under their gaze, Morgan sends you out to grab Rossi while also realizing you’ll end up talking with Aaron.

The cool air that hits you as you step out onto the patio mirrors a lot of what this day and all the days you’ve lived without Haley have felt like.

“Rossi, they’re calling us for a case. No other teams available, unfortunately,” You say, sending a sad look to Aaron as you say it.

“Aren’t you comin’ kiddo?” Rossi says, already making small steps towards the door.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll catch up with you guys in a few,” You say as you angle your body towards Aaron.

“You should really be with the team, they need you,” Aaron says, his eyes taking particular interest in the railing in front of him.

“Aaron, I’ll be there when they need me to be, just like I’m here when you need me to be. Right now we’re both struggling with a loss, and the team understands that,” You say, reaching over to rest a hand over his, “Let me help you, grieve with you. Please.”

He sighs, and you can feel and hear the tears in his voice as he asks, “Can-” he sniffles, “ Can you help me keep my promise?”

A look of confusion dashes across your face, trying to figure out what promise he was referring to. Then, you recall Haley’s words you heard in the SUV, her final words, making Aaron promise that he will show his son how he and Haley loved.

A small, earnest but sorrowful smile settles on your face, “Of course, Aaron. I’ll spend the rest of my life helping you keep that promise, and I’m sure the rest of the team will too.”

He finally moves from looking out at the world away from the patio to looking at you. He pulls you in for a hug, and you can feel the tears come down on your shoulder. He stays like that for a long time, even after the tears are gone. He finally pulls back and sniffles, reorienting himself. You knew that he was vulnerable, he just hated showing it.

“You really should go, the team needs you for the case,” Aaron says, not wanting to push you away, just taking his time to grieve. You relent, nodding your head.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, and I mean it, Hotchner,” You say, a playful sternness in your tone, even if you were genuine. You see him give a small smile as you make your way back inside.

You both were grieving. He lost an ex-wife whom he still loved, a friend, and the mother to his young child. You lost a friend who was more like a sister, and someone you cared so deeply for.

Both of you could hear the faint bells going off in the back of your head, alerting you of something you couldn’t- wouldn’t- address.

Too much, too soon.

That’s all that anything was these days. Too much, too soon.

But, as with everything in life, sometimes you have to face things head-on. Needless to say, that virtue was not something that came easy to you or Aaron.

But what was to happen when those bells started ringing a whole lot louder?

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader fluff #aaron hotchner x reader angst #this took forever #don't even get me started on the formatting #the ultimate loss

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newsies-and-the-nutcracker · 3 years

Text

Newsies but it’s French (Canadian) pt.2

(aka me just getting increasingly frustrated the longer it goes on until I’ve completely lost whatever bits of sanity I had left lol)

~ king of new york scene ~

“We’re in the papes??” “You’re in the papes.” why do I find this so funny help-

“For the good of Jack, we can stop complaining...” not the whole thing but that sounds so out of character for Race I can’t-

After a quick google search, I can confirm that Race says “The world is at our boots.”

The newsies are very confused

Apparently he was meant to say feet.

“I’m talking about our feet!”

…

hOW IN THE WORLD IS THAT EVEN CLOSE TO ‘THE WOILD IS YA ERSTER’-

Okay I’m done

“My own face on a piece of wood!” good for you ig

“I’m respectful. I’m looking at you.” please-

“I am pretty, am I not?” yes race you’re very pretty

“My own bed and an indoor toilet!” wait… does that mean you literally have a toilet outside?? In the open???

“Nothing more normal for a famous journalist!” Irdk how I’m supposed to process this-

“Leave, idiot! It’s her, the king of New York!” guys is this actually what he says in English?? Race why are you so m e a n

“Some…” *checks notes* “depressive defeatists” ?? I just want to know how you got that from “Buncha wet noodles”-

“We were on the verge of drowning ourselves in alcohol.” WHY AM I ONLY NOW FIGURING OUT WHAT SOME OF THESE LINES MEAN AS I’M WATCHING IT IN F R E N C H ???

They cut out a lot of the background comments during the dance break and now I’m sad

After Katherine’s little dance: “It’s a joke, I hope.” wow

“You’ll see what the Delancey’s do in their pants!” that sounds so wrong I-

“Friends can leave, let them be!” I don’t think that’s what they were trying to say but okay

~ letter from the refuge scene ~

“There’s guards here, they’re mean.” WOW JUST TEAR MY HEART OUT WHY DONTCHA-

“If they tell us to jump, we obey, if not we’re screwed.” ow

“The rooftop misses me.” I give up.

“It’ll go. I’m in shape.”

“End.” the only time they decide not the put ‘the’ unnecessarily in front of something-

“Good, that’s enough.” how rude

yeah that’s all for that song. I hope you guys weren’t actually expecting me to find much humour in that one

~ watch what happens reprise scene ~

“You are a love.” ??

Guys where I live if you say “tant mieux pour vous.” it means “Too bad for you” and that’s literally what Jack just told Davey-

“Stop. I understand. It’s useless.” eh close enough

“Good blood, where do you have to go to avoid you guys?”

“It’s impossible. We are inevitable.” since when did Davey actually become Thanos?

“And this here girl, Sally, she’s great.” :(

“We say that you wrote a good article.” “You seem horrible.” they’re much more salty in this version-

“Yes, it’s true. And, he is dead.” uhh guess who’s not going to Santa Fe-

“We can forget that and go back to work?” the person who wrote this had a real passion for butchering Les’ lines lol

“Be positive. No one is dead.” mmmmmmmmmmm-

“Is that what you’re hoping for??” MMMMMMMMMMMMMM-

“There’s no question of cents, Jack!” yk what? sure. i don’t even care at this point-

“We’ll do what?” he sounds like he doesn’t even want to win.

“We’re already winning.” “Agreed.” ABORT ABORT THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO S A Y JACK-

“And ‘voila’ why I think that Joe is an idiot. It’s a rattlesnake.” “... Yes.” you heard it right here, guys. if it’s a rattlesnek, it’s an idiot

“And you know why a snake whistles?” WHAT

“He is scared.”

“Go see, the poor of the head that’s spinning.” This is shredding whatever bits of sanity I had left-

“Why send the brutes?” idk why Davey

“You have maybe reason!” “Thank you!”

“And I have an appointment!”

no but when you say you have a ‘rendez-vous’ here where I live, it means you have like a doctors appointment or something lol

~ the bottom line reprise scene ~

“After his release, I surprised him myself!”

“If that’s the case, we’re going to bring him in... in softness.” nice of them

“... or the little thief?” I’m really starting to think that they lack like 99% of words in the French language-

“I was fighting in a war.” “And that turned out well for you?” get wrecked joe

“Rally as much as you want, no journal in town will talk about it.” guys I don’t have enough serotonin for this-

“Everyone here knows you’re horrible!” they made Jack sound like a little kid in the translation, and honestly I’m not even disappointed lol

“We’re missing time, little.” I don’t even know what to say-

“Your abject surrender was always the bottom of the problem.” sure why not

“Gentlemen, escort our guest to the cave-” well isn’t he nice?

“Be happy you’re alive, little. That’s the essential.”

“Yeah, so go!” ?? how is that even remotely close to “Yeah, so behave!” ??????

“I exercised my favourite American punch!” uhhhh good for you?

“You can sleep here, on this old press! It’s very firm.” help I’ve fallen and I can’t get up-

~ brooklyn’s here scene ~

“The sellers need our help! The sellers need our help! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving! Tell them that Brooklyn’s arriving!”

“We’re from Brooklyn, we’re the sellers from Brooklyn!” UHHHHH EXCUSE ME???

“We just learned that our friends are going wrong!” please you heard they were ‘going wrong’ like five days ago-

“You know we’re there for you, since always.” oH rEaLlY???

“Brooklyn is there!”

“Strikes aren’t nice, but they’re passionate!” well I’m glad you think so

“Let’s shout it, Brooklyn is there!”

“Aaaaand sooooooo!!” “Sooooooooo!!” “Soooooooooo!!!” “We will send you half road, just to Queens!”

“The pigeons are going to get soaked!” aaaaaand we’re back to the pigeons-

“What sad way to finish your career!” they sound so sarcastic I can’t-

“They’re not serious, but if they think we’re laughing…” i feel low-key threatened-

“Let’s shout it!” well if you try hard enough, you can make it sound like “loud and clear!”?

“Manhattan is theeere, Flushing is theeere, “Richmond is theeere, Woodside is theeere, and the Bronx too!!”

“Sorry, little. No news of him.” I just… why does it translate to “little”?

“You are alone, we could say.” “No.” “Yes.”

Medda really isn’t taking no for an answer-

“The sellers of journals of New York!” I’m crying why is it such a mouthful-

“You want to be treated like an adult? Act like an adult!”

~ something to believe in scene ~

“It’s Specs!” wow kath throw specs under the bus like that-

“And if I was a boy you’d be looking at me with a butter black eye!” I’ve officially given up on the French language I’m sorry-

“You win a fight when the other guy bites the dust.” and another one gone and another one gone-

“If there’s a way I could grab hold of something,” has literally been shortened to ‘if I could.’ IF I COULD-

“If I could stop time.” I’m so mad

“Really?” “Really.” ahhHHHHHHHHHHH

“But it’s going. It’s going.”

“... who didn’t even know she gave me a hope.” WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT IF THE TITLE ANYMORE??

“But it’s going. It’s going.” The thrilling sequel

“No. I’m scared of you.” “No!” yeesh-

“I believe in something.” good for you

~ once and for all scene -

“He is with us.” but like… how much?? only 99 percent????

“We could hold a hoedown here.” I feel like the person translating this just gave up by the end of the show-

“Happy to have found you again.” what did you like lose him or something

“The close.” ok yes that’s funny, but it gets even funnier when you realize it could also be translated to “the farm.”

“A little grease, and she’ll be like new.”

“This is for the guys who kill themselves at the factories.” w h a t

‘THE BANNER OF SELLERS OF JOURNALS’ I’m still not over this

~ everything that comes after that ~

“Anyone who doesn’t act in their own self interest is an idiot!” ey watch it-

also what the heck is ‘quiconque’ I swear I’ve never seen that word in my life

“We will find a way, but let’s seize the moment.” first it was “the chance” and now it’s “the moment” google translate are u okay-

They really went and changed ‘bully’ to ‘monster’ didn’t they

“You can make it.” he really makes it sound like Jack is about to die or something-

“It’s disgusting!” you’re disgusting sir

“And the world will know, we’ve been taking notes.”

“It’s a joke!” nope lol

“Goodbye, fool!” I’M LAUGHING WAY TOO HARD ABOUT THIS-

“Well you already work for my father.” “Yes.”

“Super, Jack Kelly!” I CAN’T-

“So, Jack, you’re staying?” yeah sure close enough-

“Sellers of journals on a mission!”

Das it ‘my friends’ lol. Hope you enjoyed.

#newsies #guys this took forever-#okay don’t get me wrong I love the French language but it’s just so much fun to make fun of #I go to a French school where you’re not allowed to speak English unless it’s English class so maybe I’m just bitter #anyway #tw: caps #justiceforspecs

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stusbunker · 3 years

Text

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls for all her help on this series.

Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement.

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards.

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job.

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls.

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes.

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion.

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?"

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer.

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash.

“Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

“Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

“You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

“It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically.

“Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

“That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

“Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

“You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in.

Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

“Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot.

“You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry.

“Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly.

“Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel.

The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo.

“Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs.

“Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

“We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

“What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

“True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

“We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

“I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

“Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

“Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?”

“Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

“I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

“I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

“You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

“It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered.

Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

“Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

“Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

“And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

“We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

“I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw.

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in.

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary @itmighthavebeenintentional @thoughtslikeaminefield @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6 @cracksinthewalls @atc74

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Next Chapter: Giving Up

#A Gentlemen's Agreement #bi!dean #dean winchester fanficiton #dean/benny #dean x benny #coming out #john and mary #aga: spit it out #spn fanfic #spn au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au

55 notes · View notes

jawritter · 4 years

Text

Happy Halloween

Summary: It’s Daddy’s favorite holiday. So what’s a good girl gonna do, but let him blow off some steam after a successful hunt?

Warnings: Daddy kink, hair pulling, consensual name calling, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader, spanking, light edging, orgasm control, language, rough sex, oral (male receiving), mouth fucking, hint of a pain kink maybe? I think that’s about it. This is just porn with a crack ass plot. I’m not sorry lol.

Word Count: 3092

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: You guys ask for some Daddy!Dean for Kinktober? Well, who can say no to that? This fic was beta’d by the amazing @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much hun! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Want more? Check out my Mastlist. Not enough? Become a Patreon, and make special request, as well as get access to exclusive fics, and one shots!

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Dean had always been the aggressive sort. He didn’t take shit from very many people, and if you were one of those who he did take it from, you counted yourself as lucky. He’d even gone off on Sam more than once, and Sam could get away with more than most.

It was one of the side effects of dealing with the life that you all were thrust into when you were just children. Your father had been hunting partners with John for years, off and on, when you were children, so you had known the Winchesters for a very long time, long enough to know you did NOT push your luck with the eldest Winchester.

Even though Dean was always hard in a sense, there was a time when he wasn’t as hard as he is today. Back then, the hardest thing he had to do in his life was impress John Winchester, and that had been more challenging than any monster he’d ever faced.

Life was as simple then. A vamps nest, the occasional Djinn.You killed the monsters, you saved a few lives. That time was long gone for the both of you. John's death had opened up a whole new world of monsters, demons and dick angels. Things that you weren’t prepared for, and neither was Dean. Dean spent what was only four months to you, but was forty years to him in Hell. Literal Hell. Sam jumped in the cage with Lucifer. Life became a downward spiral that just went on and on, until you found yourselves here today.

God had it in for you.The son of Lucifer was dressed as the Devil, courtesy of Dean’s twisted amusement, in the backseat of the Impala he’d deemed “Baby” years ago. You were on your way to a Halloween party that was expected to go south thanks to one of those rare simple vamps nest your unconventional group had been investigating.

“Dean, I don’t know about this,” Jack said, looking at his own reflection in the rearview mirror where he caught the look of Dean's amused gaze. The red paint on the boys face was a little much in your opinion, but hey, you weren’t in charge of this shitshow, so you decided to keep your trap fucking shut.

“It’s simple Jack,” Dean said.You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, and you were determined to look dead ahead of you, and not in the backseat where you would probably die laughing. “You go to the party, just stand back, watch, find a chick maybe. I don’t give a fuck, but just make sure that no vamp gets inside that fucking house until Y/N and I can take care of the mother fuckers. If one does show itself, lure it out to us, and we will take care of it.”

Dean made it sound so simple, and you could only imagine how nervous Jack was. He didn’t have the conventional upbringing of most people as it was. Technically, he wasn’t even 12 yet, he was just advanced because of his race, and somethings just didn’t come quite so naturally to Jack as Dean had thought that it should. That, or Dean just didn’t give a shit, because he was never really going to forgive him for Mary’s death. He just wasn’t.

“You will be fine Jack. Just keep a low profile, and watch out for vamps. Dean and I can take care of the rest,” you told him in what you hoped was an encouraging tone. “This will be a piece of cake, and we will be back at the hotel before you know it.”

Jack fell quiet as he looked at the landscape flying past the backseat window, and your eyes trailed Dean's still amused face as he drove down the farm road to the old ranch house the teenagers were attending for tonight's festivities.

Dean loved Halloween. It was one of the only holidays that he really did enjoy. Sam, on the other hand? Well, Sam hated it, and when Dean found this case, Sam decided to stay behind with Eileen while you, Dean, Jack took care of this small little case that was only three states over.

Dean had tried to convince you to dress up for the occasion, but quickly changed his mind when you told him that there was not a chance in hell you could hide a machete in the slutty nurse costume he’d picked out for you. That’s how the plan to dress Jack up , and place him in the party watching the party goers was born.

You and Dean had a history.That history had started when he’d taken your virginity when you were only 18 years old. Every time you got a chance after that, you found yourselves between the sheets, in the back seat, and against the walls of bars in dark alleyways. Dean had a “healthy appetite”, and even in his forties he still carried the stamina of a horny teenage boy. You weren’t complaining either.

Somewhere around thirty, he’d discovered his Dom fetish, and that literally fucking ruined all other men for you. You should have known Dean’s “take no shit” attitude would have translated over into the bedroom eventually. It was the one place he could have complete control, and the one place he could let off steam with someone he trusted.That someone was you.

Since tonight was his favorite holiday, you had decided when this small little hunt was over, Dean would get to see you in that slutty nurse costume he’d wanted you to wear so bad. After all, daddy always gets what he wants, and that’s why you had jumped up and suggested the kid get his own room.

You watched the sky turn dark as Dean speed towards the party and the hunt, your mind on just what Dean was going to say when he discovered you had kept the costume.

Three hours later, you found yourself standing in the hotel room that you and Dean would be sharing for the night, staring down at the nurse’s outfit on the bed before quickly sliding the towel that was covering your body to the floor, and picking up the costume. You only had a few minutes before Dean would be done with his shower, and he’d already ordered you to be in position when he returned to the room. He just didn’t know about the costume.

Dean was usually in a good mood after a good hunt, and this hunt was the first easy thing they’d done in a long time, so therefore Dean was in a very good mood.

You had just slipped the last strap over your shoulder, and got into the kneeling position on the bed that he required you to be in when waiting for him, when you heard the shower cut off, and the door to the bathroom open.

The room was dark.The only light that came into the room was coming from the bathroom and it flooded the small room as Dean rounded the corner to see his prize. Judging from the predatory growling sound he made when he saw you waiting for him, he was very pleased, but you knew better than to look up from your submissive stance and make eye contact without permission. Dean wasn’t going to take your shit, and you wanted to cum tonight. Slick already gathered itself between your spread thighs in anticipation of what was to come, and Dean hadn’t even laid a hand on you yet.

Dean’s eyes shamelessly raked over you as he made his way towards the bed.You could feel his piercing gaze, even though you couldn’t see it, and you waited with bated breath for Dean’s approval, which came in the form of the Dean’s rough thumb reaching out, and running across your red painted lips. You reached your tongue out and swept over the tip of his thumb, twirling it around this thick digit as if it were his cock before sucking it into your mouth, and letting it go with a pop.

Dean groaned at the sensation as he watched your lips around his thumb, and his dick twitched in interest as his eyes roamed the barely there costume that you were wearing for him.

“Such a good little slut, waiting for Daddy, all dressed up so pretty,” Dean said, his rough voice causing a shiver to visibly roll through your body, and land in your already aching cunt.

Dean chuckled at the reaction and he brushed his fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear to get a better view of your face. It was a move that was almost too intimate for what was to come, but it was his way of asking you if you trusted him and you did.You trusted Dean with your life.

When he noticed you lean into his touch, it was the only permission he seemed to need. That and the high adrenaline made him more impatient than what he would have normally been . His large hand fisted your hair almost painfully as he jerked your eyes up to meet his darkened gaze. His bare chest and body was on display for you, as his hard length twitched on its own from it’s proud position. A bead of precum was already forming at the tip, and you licked your lips as you watched it bob there. He needed this. He needed this just as much as you did tonight, and damn, you wanted to taste him so bad.

His eyes followed your gaze, and if you would have not forgone the underwear you were sure that the smirk he gave you would have melted them clean off your already overly heated body.

“What is it, sweetheart? Daddy’s little cock slut wants to have a taste before I ruin that pretty little pussy of yours tonight?”

The needy wine that left you lips wasn’t the answer Dean was looking for, so he gripped your hair impossibly tighter, and growled as he looked down at your form as you all but squirmed underneath him.

“Use your words. I want to hear you beg for it,’ Dean said, lowering his face so close to your own that his lips brushed yours with every word, and his whiskey kissed breath fanned warm over your skin.

“Please Daddy, please let me suck your cock, I’ll be a good girl, please let me taste you,” you begged him in a small voice that surprised even you. Dean’s mouth meet yours in a clash of lips, tongue and teeth that ended with his perfectly straight teeth sinking into your lower lips before he pulled away to soon, leaving you breathless and at his mercy, his grip still tight in your hair as he guided you to his impressive length before tapping your mouth with his swollen tip.

Reaching out with your tongue you lick softly at his dripping slit. The salty taste of his precome filled your mouth, and you moaned as he gave your hair a sharp jerk, sending the jolt from your scalp to your pussy, that was literally dripping down your leg onto the already stained bed sheets under you.

“No teasing, Bitch,” Dean spat, his teeth gritted against the shiver of anticipation that rolled through his own spine. “Hands behind your back, you know the rules. No touching yourself. I’m gonna fuck that filthy little mouth, and then I’m going to split open that pretty little cunt.”

As ordered, you opened your mouth and Dean pressed himself into your waiting lips. You sucked at him as he slowly pressed himself into your open mouth. Your tongue ran along the vein under this shaft as he adjusted to the feeling of your mouth around him, stopping when the tip touched the back of your throat with a grunt, his teeth biting into his own lip.

Your fingers dug into your palms as arousal coursed through your body with renewed fervor. Dean’s cock laying heavy on your tongue as you gulped in oxygen. You knew that would be the last easy breath until he was satisfied with your mouth as his eyes locked with your own.

“Eyes on me pretty girl,” he commanded as he started to thrust himself slowly in and out of your mouth. “I want to see the look on your face when you choke on my dick.”

Giving him a hard suck in response, Dean started to fuck your mouth with harsh thurst as you tired desperately to relax your throat and hollow out your checks to take all that he was giving you. Your cunt pulsed with every thrust of his hardness into your mouth, and it was all you could do to keep your hands behind your back, and not give yourself the relief you so desperately needed. The only balance you were able to maintain was on your knees, and Dean’s hand still pulled your hair tight as he fucked himself into your mouth over and over again.

You did all you could to keep your eyes on him as your throat contracted around his tip as it assaulted you over and over again. Tears were streaming down your face, and your lipstick was ruined as drool dripped from your mouth, but you dared not break eye contact with Dean.

He was beautiful when he lost control like this. His green eyes rolled in pleasure every so often. The vein he loved to let you bite showing in his throat as he strained to keep from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself. Taking my cock so good baby girl.”

You moaned desperately around his length at his praises and he shivered above you, his pace faltering as he pulled himself from your mouth just before he could fall over the edge.You gasped desperately for air as he let go of your hair, and you fell down to your hands and knees on the mattress and he positioned himself behind you.

A hard smack to your ass caused you to whimper as you felt him slide his thick cock through your slick, not entering you, just teasing your throbbing clit with his tip, his fingers leaving delicious little bruises as his large hands held you in place.

“Look at you,” he moaned as your warmth edged around him just enough to make him nearly lose it right there on the bed sheets. “So wet, so needy.” Another harsh smack to the other cheek made you jump and a scream left your lips as frustration and arousal created the needful ache between your legs. Dean’s slow thrusts against your clit pulled you to the edge, but never let you fall over. “What do you want? Tell me.Tell Daddy what you need.”

“Please Daddy, please, I need you, need your cock, please,” you begged him, and he moaned behind you as his hand ran up your back, over your barely there costume, and into your hair again, giving it a hard jerk as his tip breached you, waiting for heat. “Then take it, slut.”

That was all the warning you got before Dean was pounding you almost flat on your stomach, each thrust hitting your G-spot with mapped out precision.You were a screaming, moaning mess as he pounded you into oblivion.

“That’s it, baby,” Dean said, smacking your ass and never losing pace as each swat of his large hand made you moan, and your pussy spasm around his length. “You better not cum yet bitch! If you do, you know it will be the last time for a week. Do you understand?”

You moaned as you fought against the orgasm that had you shaking on the edge of delirium, and Dean gave your hair a hard pull, bring your back up to his chest, ripping your top down so that your tits flopped freely as he continued to pound into your ruined pussy, giving your exposed tits a harsh twist to get your attention. “Use your words Y/N, or I’m stopping, and I’ll finish myself off while you watch.”

You knew he’d do it. He’d done it before, and Dean didn’t take shit from you, or anyone else, and he wasn’t afraid to take care of himself, and leave you waiting.

“Yes Daddy, I understand,” you squealed as his fingers dug into your hips, his hand never letting go of your hair.

“Good girl, such a good girl for Daddy,” he said as he picked up pace, until his hips started to stutter after what felt like an eternity, your own body buzzing as the orgasm you’d been holding off was becoming almost painful.

“Touch yourself baby, I want to feel you come on my cock,” Dean said, his voice strained as he raced to his own end.

Your hand traveled down your still costume clad body, and to your swollen aching clit, matching his pace in rough circles.

It didn’t even take a full minute before your pussy clamped down around his pulsing cock, and your orgasm rocketed through your body as he spilled deep inside of you. Dean pulled you both up as your bodies seized around one another, until he was able to remove his softening length from your body, and lay you gently down on the bed.

Your body was still quaking slightly when you finally came back to yourself, as Dean cleaned the mess up between your legs before helping you out of your costume in silence. You watched as Dean crawled over you body, and pressed a sweet kiss to your swollen lips before cleaning the lipstick off your face.

“You okay?” he asked as your eyes met his. There was your Dean again, always worried, always concerned for someone else above himself. Even in this aspect of your relationship, he was always the nurturer that you had fallen in love with under that rough exterior so long ago.

“I’m good Dean,” you tell him as his lips pecked at your own again, and he lay down next to you to pull your exhausted body against his own, tucking the covers in around you.

Maybe one day you’d tell each other you loved each other, but not today, for now this would be enough.

“Happy Halloween Daddy,” you told him, feeling him chuckle behind you, before his teeth bit playfully into your shoulder, leaving his mark on your skin.

“Happy Halloween Baby Girl.”

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