#Look I love Bobby to the moon and back

[cherrygarden]

rewatching 911 s2 but this time with spanish dub - sorry, línea de emergencia nueve once

[ruruumin]

mirror mirror

₊˚ ☘︎ huntr/x rumi x fem! reader.

⤷ feeling exposed after a live performance gone wrong.

“get out!” 

the explosive voice of rumi echos in the confined room. you stand in front of her, eyes wider than saucers as she quickly wraps her hands around her exposed arms. she is staring at you like a deer in headlights. her breath is ragged and torn apart. if you looked close enough, there were tears starting to bubble at the corners of her eyes.

you notice the patterns on her skin but that’s not that concerns you. 

“rumi,” you say, slowly approaching her. every time you take a step forward, she is backing away. there is a thick layer of tension between the two of you, something that had only happened once or twice in your careers. 

“stay away! don’t look at me!” she is closing her eyes, squeezing them shut while the tears start to flow. hoping that this was all a sick prank by the demons, by gwi-ma or jinu, she shuts the whole world out. she chooses to submerge herself in an ocean of wallow. away from prying eyes she hides herself.

rumi has lived her entire life in shame. when the marks started coming as small patches on her arm, celine made it a constant habit to pull down her sleeves. summers were hot and blistering. however, it was nothing compared to suffocating turtleneck masking her patterns. every invite to the bathhouse was a deathwish to her career, and she felt scared that with each ‘no’ her friends will distance themselves from her. 

the last person she wanted to see these patterns was you. while mira and zoey could understand to some extent, you were entirely different. as her agent and longtime friend, maybe something more after the recent debut of golden, she can’t let you see this side of her. those soft, alluring touches behind the stage keeps her awake at night. it has her thinking about the what if’s for your careers. she questions if shes ready to risk everything for you.

you are human. she’s a demon. even if only half of her body has patterns, that doesn’t distinguish her from the rest. she was your responsibility and with these new profound marks, it might over complicate the already strained relationship the two of you have. 

if she was the sun, you were the moon. 

if she was gold, you were silver. 

as cool as water, your touch stings her. bringing your arms slowly around her, you pull rumi into a deep, tight hug. squeezing out every ounce of stress from her bones as you press your face against her shoulder, you let her weep into your arms. 

“i’m sorry you have to see me like this.” she sobs, tucking her fingers beneath the folds of your shirt. her lungs are burning. her chest was on fire as if they were seeped in a bucket of hot sauce. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” 

“don’t apologize.” you suck in a deep, careful breath. “it’s okay. everything is going to be okay.” 

“the show—the live performance. the fans, everyone is waiting for me out there,” rumi is choking over her own words. unable to contain the fears that have plagued her for years, they’re finally reaching her. they’re sinking into her flesh with their filthy claws and she feels tainted. 

“there will always be more live performances in the future. don’t stress about the pr backlash. that’s what me and bobby are for.” 

brushing your fingers through her hair, you loosen the tight braids that hold her together. the weight of the world is slowly lifting off of her shoulders. for some strange reason, she thinks its you making this happen. “come back to sing when you’re ready. we will reschedule the live performance and push back any shows.”

“this is your era, rumi,” the palm of your hand makes contact with the side of her cheek. “i’m sure everyone will love and adore you.” 

“what if… i’m not the person everyone wants me to be?” rumi’s response is hurried and desperate. she’s chasing after something she can’t grasp yet.

“who do you want to be, rumi?” 

you slowly pull away from her but she clings onto you. 

“i want to be perfect.”

your grip on her tightens and it reassures her that you aren’t leaving. “humans aren’t perfect though.” 

her eyes are stinging at your words. if she was truly human, she wouldn’t have to live with these patterns. she didn’t need to live underneath celine’s careful gaze. she could go to the bathhouse with zoey and mira. she could do anything she wanted. she could even…

looking up into your eyes, she hiccups. 

words are bubbling up in her throat and they pop once they touch air. they escape her and she struggles to catch them. instead of scolding her the same way celine always would, your voice is a mere whisper. untouched by the cruelty of demons and all things gwi-ma, you shine brighter than the smiling stars. 

“you’re okay, rumi. everything is going to be okay.” wiping away her smeared mascara and tears, your gaze never wavers. it is as soft as silken tofu. it continues to melt her body into your unshaken arms.

you’re the rock in her life. a steady, unmoving force that keeps her grounded. in a place where demons threaten every corner, you make the world seem normal.

you make her feel normal.

instead of verbally acknowledging your words, she holds you close to her chest. just enough to hear the gentle beating of your heart mix with hers. 

[achilles-rage]

Protect You, Always

summary: you meet your boyfriend and the rest of the 118 at a bar after work. everything is going well until buck has to pry some creep off of you.

word count: 2.9k

request: anon- i wanna see sum protective buck kind of stuff, maybe the same as the twelfth chapter where’s buck is defending her, maybe with different plots

a/n: i am SO sorry this took so long anon!! i love protective buck, he makes me feral, so thank you for requesting!! enjoy!!<33

warnings: creepy man gets grabby, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You walk into the bar with a smile, eyes darting around the dimly lit building to try to spot your boyfriend in the crowd. He and his coworkers agreed to meet here after their shift, and he invited you along, knowing that his friends would love to see you, and vice versa. You begin to pull your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans, eyes still scanning the crowd as you get ready to text Buck. You finally spot him, though, and his face lights up when he makes eye contact with you. 

You weave your way through the crowd, slipping your phone back into your pocket as you go. You mumble quick apologies as you squeeze your way past people, silently wondering why the hell there’s so many people here tonight. Usually, this place is pretty lowkey, but tonight, you can feel something in the air that is making the people of LA even crazier than usual. Must be the full moon, which Buck has told you everything about. 

“Hi, baby.” Buck whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle into his chest. No matter how many times he’s gone to work since you’ve started dating, you still feel an overwhelming sense of calm when you finally see him again; knowing that he’s made it home in one piece.

“Hi, my love.” you reply, angling your head up just slightly so he can hear you over the chatter and music of the bar.

“You want a drink?” Buck asks once he pulls away, moving his hand from your shoulder down to your hand. You nod, smiling as he gives your hand one firm squeeze. “The usual?” You nod again, and he gives you a wink, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead before he journeys across the bar to get you your drink of choice. 

You say hello to Hen, Bobby, and Eddie as Buck gets your drink, easily falling into conversation with them as they watch and laugh at Chim and Maddie playing pool very competitively. You laugh when you see Maddie sink yet another ball, and Chimney begins to complain very loudly that Maddie’s cheating as she does a little celebratory dance along to the music blaring from the speakers above.

Buck slows his pace as he walks back with your drink and a refill for himself, a smile growing on his face as he takes in the scene. You fit in so well with his family, and his heart swells at the sight of you, head tilted back as you laugh along with everyone else. 

He hands you your drink, and you mumble a quick thank you as you keep your eyes on what Chimney calls his “comeback shot.” He’s completely focused as he bends forward slightly, eyes trained on the planned path of the cue ball, and you all go quiet, you and Hen grabbing each other’s hands and holding them up near your chest as you watch. When he finally hits the ball, it goes a little crooked, making him miss the shot, and he groans loudly, throwing his hands up in the air as he turns away. You and Hen let out disappointed sounds as your hands fall back down to your sides, and you lean back into Buck, looking up at him with a lovestruck expression.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Buck whispers into your ear. His arm instinctively moves to wrap around your plush middle as he pulls you further back into him, and you hum softly in agreement, leaning your head back against his chest.

“How was your shift?” you ask, turning your head and tilting your chin up to face him. He shrugs, a smile forming on his face. “It was better than how the next shift is probably gonna go. Chim’s a sore loser, and he’s never gonna let me hear the end of ‘my sister cheating.’” he teases, his smile widening as he feels the vibrations of your laugh against his broad chest.

“Like you haven’t held anything against him like that.” you reply in the same tone, raising a brow. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he looks away.

“That’s not the point.” he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear before taking a sip of his beer. The smile he was fighting erupts on his face when he hears you laugh again, looking at you over the bottle and giving you a wink.

“So, what is the point?” you ask as you turn in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He shrugs, his hands moving to your hips, one squeezing your soft flesh while the other rests the side of his bottle on the fabric of your jeans.

“That you look gorgeous tonight.” he says in a suggestive tone, although it comes out as more of a question. You smile, averting your gaze as your cheeks heat up from the compliment. No matter how many times he compliments you, you can’t help but feel giddy.

“Nice deflection.” you tease, tilting your head to the side as you look back up into his eyes. You begin to gently sway side to side along to the music floating through the air around you, almost as if acting as a blanket to shield your moment from those around you.

He shrugs, a smirk forming on his face before he leans down to give you a sweet kiss, melting into your arms as he feels the tension from his shift slowly releasing from his body. He’s not sure how you do it, but he always feels like you’re able to lift the problems off his shoulders when he’s in your arms.

You’re ripped away from your moment when you hear Chimney calling your name desperately. You break apart from Buck’s embrace and turn to face Chimney with a smile, raising a brow.

“Come play with me. You’re the only other one that knows how it is to put up with a Buckley like I do.” You laugh, giving Maddie a knowing look as she hands you the cue stick with a roll of her eyes. She goes over and stands with Buck, and both of them look at you and Chimney beginning a new game with fond looks. 

Your game is far less competitive than the one before, as neither you nor Chimney feel the need to beat each other. Even so, you can hear Buck and Maddie arguing with each other after each turn, telling the other person that a good hit didn’t count, and a bad hit deserves a redo. You all know that their argument isn’t serious; they both have small smiles on their faces, but it’s still entertaining to watch. 

The game is at a standstill as Buck argues that you deserve a redo for missing the ball when you tried to shoot. You were laughing so hard at their antics that your hand slipped and made you just barely graze the cue ball, and while you were willing to give up your turn, as you were already losing by a long shot, Buck clearly has other plans.

“I’m gonna go get a refill. You want anything?” you ask Chimney, and he shakes his head. 

“I wouldn’t come back if I were you. We’ll be here all night.” he teases, and you laugh as you shrug at his words.

“They could be arguing about who gives a better performance during karaoke. Could be worse.” you tell him. He hums in agreement, shaking his head as he laughs at the memory of their very long argument about it. While Maddie is a far better singer than Buck, he argues that he makes up for it with his “moves and face.”

You make your way to the bar; the voices of your friends being drowned out as you get further away from them. By the time you’re at the bar, you’re listening to a woman begging her friend for her phone back so she can call her ex, which makes you laugh. You wait at the bar for the bartender to make his way to you, and as you stand there, you feel a presence appear beside you.

You turn your head slightly; just enough to see the man from the corner of your eye, but he takes this clear sign that you don’t want to talk as an invitation.

“Come here often?” he purrs, leaning against the bar on his elbow. You scoff, shaking your head as you let out a quiet laugh. You turn your head to face him, raising a brow.

“Did you really just try to use that line?” you ask in disbelief. He’s cute, you guess, but he’s nowhere as attractive as Buck. And either way, nothing he could say would make you actually want to leave with him.

Although your eyes show clear signs of disinterest, he sees the way you turn to face him, and he smirks. Clearly to him, you want him to keep talking. He had been watching you all night, and although he saw you with Buck, he still decides to take a chance now that you’re alone.

“Why, is it gonna work?” he asks suggestively, sliding impossibly closer to you. You can feel his cologne burning your nose, and it takes everything in you to scrunch your face up and tell him to fuck off. You don’t though, instead giving him the benefit of the doubt; that he hadn’t seen you with your boyfriend earlier.

“Absolutely not. Sorry.” you tell him with an apologetic, yet vaguely fake smile. He smirks, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You wanna get out of here?” This man clearly doesn’t know when to stop, you think. Did he seriously think you saying “absolutely not” was you begging him to take you back to his place?

“I’m good, actually.” you tell him, turning to try to get the bartender’s attention. You can feel unease creeping into your belly, and you can see the way his eyes travel down to your tits when your eyes move away from his frame. His smirk drops at your words, and he leans down so his face is right beside yours, the alcohol on his breath filling your nose and making your stomach churn.

“I think you’re lying. You just want me to keep trying.” he purrs, raising two fingers to the side of your jaw and tilting your head back to face him. You move your face out of his grasp, leaning back and off of the bar as you see that his nose is practically touching yours. You feel bile crawling up your throat as your eyes dart around the bar, trying desperately to meet one of your friends’ eyes, if not Buck’s. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re desperate for it.” he says in a slightly condescending tone. Your brows furrow at his words. What the hell is he talking about? He grabs your wide hips roughly when you don’t respond right away, his words shocking you to silence. He pulls you against him, pushing himself against you at the same time, and your hands immediately go to his chest to push him away. He’s not exactly a big guy, but he must clearly have muscles under his shirt, as he barely budges at your desperate attempt to create some space between you two.

“I have a boyfriend.” you tell him, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the loud voices around you. Your eyes keep searching around the bar to anyone that will look at you. Surely, someone will help you. But no one looks. Everyone is in their own little world as they continue to talk and sway to the music with the people they came with.

“Well, he shouldn’t have left you alone.” he whispers into your ear, leaning down to place a hot kiss against your neck. You flinch as his lips make contact with your skin, trying desperately to wiggle out of his grip as his lips burn your skin. You want to find Buck, you want to launch yourself into his arms and never let go, but first, you need to get away from this creep. 

“Hey! Get your hands off of her!” you suddenly hear over the music, and you sigh, head turning to see Buck stomping toward you. You barely even notice Bobby and Eddie a few steps behind him, immediately following him when they saw his body get tense and his fists clench at his sides.

You let out a sigh of relief as you feel the man ripped away from you, watching with wide eyes as Buck stares the man down and pushes his chest a few times.

“You confused about the word ‘no?’ Mean’s she doesn’t fucking want you.” he seethes. You gasp as Buck raises a fist, ready to punch the man, but Eddie and Bobby are rushing to him immediately and pulling him back. You almost laugh when you see the man use this chance as a time to scurry away, weaving himself through the crowd and toward the exit. 

You take a few steps toward Buck, then wrap your arms around his torso, sniffling softly as a few tears fall from your eyes. Now that the threat is gone, you can’t help the tears from falling. You can’t imagine what might’ve happened if Buck hadn’t seen you.

“Shh. I got you, baby.” he whispers into your ear, his body relaxing slightly as he wraps his arms around you. He rubs your back slowly, chin resting on the top of your head as you try to catch your breath through your tears. 

“Can we go home?” you ask him softly, looking up at him through your lashes. He nods immediately, one hand moving to your cheek to wipe your tears. “Of course, baby.” he replies in a similar tone. He leans down to kiss your forehead, then looks up at Bobby and Eddie, who nod before he has a chance to speak. He gives them a tight-lipped smile, then turns you both towards the exit. 

Once you’re out of the loud bar, he stops you, putting his hands on your arms and turning you to face him. He looks down at your sad, scared expression and your shaky hands and his heart breaks. He should’ve been there, he thinks.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a gentle tone. You nod slowly, letting in a shaky breath as you try to slow your racing heart. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I should’ve-” You cut him off before he can say anything else, shaking your head.

“It’s not your fault. You were talking to Maddie, and I wanted to get another drink.” you tell him, sniffling softly between sentences. He sighs, bringing you in for another tight hug. You melt into his arms again, your body relaxing completely now that the sounds from the bar are no longer pounding against your skull and you’re back in the safety of Buck’s arms.

“But I could’ve-” he whispers, but you shake your head again, speaking before he can.

“No. Baby, it’s fine. You got there before anything could really happen. And you’re here now, so you can take me home.” you tell him, your last sentence almost coming out as a question. You tilt your head up to look at him, resting your chin on his chest, and he gives you a troubled smile as he nods. 

“Okay. Let’s get you home.” 

He leads you to his jeep with a hand firmly around your shoulders, almost as if shielding you from the world. If it were up to him, he would keep you within arm’s reach, or at least within eyesight from now on, but he knows that’s unrealistic. 

Once you’re in the jeep and safely buckled, he moves around to the driver's side and gets in. Once his seatbelt is buckled and the jeep is in drive he puts a hand on your thigh, his grip tight as he thinks about that man’s hands on you. While he knows Bobby and Eddie had good reason to pull him away before he could get a punch in, he wishes he could’ve fucking killed him for even thinking about doing that to a woman, let alone you. 

He helps you out of the car and up to his apartment when he’s parked in his parking spot, and then you both change into comfy clothes before you cuddle up on the couch. He puts on a movie, but his focus is on you, how your head is resting on his shoulder and your hand is tightly gripping the front of his hoodie. He kisses your temple, trying to read the expression on your face to make sure you’re really alright before he hesitantly moves his gaze to the tv. 

“Thank you.” you mumble, not even bothering to tear your gaze from the tv as you speak. He squeezes your shoulder, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby. I’ll protect my girl. Always.” he tells you earnestly, and he means it. If you were to be in any kind of danger, he knows he’d do just about anything to make sure he’s in between you and the thing threatening to cause you harm.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @tatyhend @sammiejane22 @mbioooo0000 @prettybi-girly @boybandbaby @toessssw @tryingtograspctrl @azkza @rosey1981 @cryedye (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in seatched, otherwise i can’t tag you! + more in comments)

[fireinmoonshot]

once in a blue moon | robert reynolds x reader

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Reader Summary: When you come down with a cold, Bob doesn't hesitate to look after you – even if he has no idea what he's doing. Warnings: Reader is sick, mentions of a cold and a fever, mentions of painkillers and Bob's previous drug use. Word Count: 2.1k A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who sent in this request. I love this idea so much and I had so much fun planning it out and writing it. I haven't written for Bob in about a week so I have missed writing for him so much. I'm definitely going to try and write for him more often and I'll be working on more of the requests I have already in my inbox! 💗

“I think,” Alexei starts, eyeing you from across the room as you sniff for the hundredth time in a minute, “that being an Avenger should make you immune to colds.”

Yelena, sitting beside you – though far enough away that she considers herself safe from you infecting her, frowns at her father. “It’s not like us being given the title of New Avengers suddenly makes us some new breed of human.”

“I never said that, but now that you mention it–”

“Yeah, we heard what you said,” Walker huffs, cutting Alexei off before he begins on some kind of tangent that none of you want to listen to.

Bob appears in the doorway of the room, arms crossed over his chest. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks around at everyone, completely lost in the conversation. “Who has a cold?”

He watches as everyone in the room – Alexei, Yelena, Ava and John – point at you. Bucky has been spending time at his own apartment, citing the fact that he’s sick of how loud it always is at the Watch Tower. Bob can understand that. He spends half his time locked away in his own room for a bit of peace and quiet. 

“Okay, I do not have a cold,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It’s just a stuffy nose. I get like this every winter. Doesn’t everyone? I’m fine, so will you all stop treating me like I’m sick?”

You push yourself up from the couch, deciding to excuse yourself from the room and go and find a box of tissues. Your sniffing is starting to annoy you, just like it’s clearly annoying everyone else in the room too.

Bob frowns as he watches you stand up, go to take a step and then stumble. He recognises it for what it is instantly – you’re dizzy. You’d stood up a little too quickly, eager to get away from everyone nagging you, and whatever sickness was plaguing you decided to fight back, making your head spin.

He’s across the room in the blink of an eye, reaching for you just as you start to fall. You were heading right for the glass coffee table and he’s never been more glad to have use of super-speed – in moderation, of course. His powers still aren’t entirely under his control.

You grip onto his arm for a little bit of extra stability as you realise you’re not falling – thanks to Bob. You’re sure that the surprise is evident on your face as you look up at him, the room still slightly spinning around you. 

“That was impressive, Bobby,” Walker says, looking at Bob with his eyebrows raised.

“Thanks Walker,” Bob mutters, tightening his grip on your waist. “I think you need some rest,” he continues, speaking softly to you. “Let me help you to your room?”

It’s a question rather than a statement – Bob wouldn’t want to do anything against your will, even if you are clearly sick and dizzy. He knows you can be stubborn at times but it doesn’t stop the worry from seeping inside of him. He’s never seen you like this before. You’re always strong, never weak. He knows that you’re not feeling like yourself when you nod back at him, accepting his help.

He wastes no time in starting to walk with you towards your bedroom, taking it slowly so you don’t get dizzy again. You can feel the eyes of everyone else on you both as you leave. You can already hear the interrogation you’ll get from Yelena and Ava once you’re better, as if you have anything to tell them.

Bob is always sweet with you, but you’re polar opposites. You’re much more stubborn than him, you can be much louder than him, you probably get on his nerves more often than not. But for some reason, you rather like the idea of him taking care of you.

Once you reach your bedroom, he pushes the door open. He takes two steps inside, an arm still around your waist, before he frowns. “What the hell?” He murmurs. “Why is it so cold in here? Do you not have the heating on?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to turn it on,” you admit, squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your grip on the back of Bob’s shirt as a fresh wave of dizziness falls over you. “There are so many buttons in this place and none of them are labelled.

Bob sighs and looks down at you. You’re so insanely smart and yet you couldn’t figure out how to turn the heating on? And you’d never asked for help – even in the dead of winter when the Watch Tower was freezing? 

“You could’ve asked me,” he hums, voice so quiet that you almost can’t hear him. “I’ll show you once you’re better. But next time, just ask. Please.”

You smile a little at that. It’s one of the things that you like the most about Bob – his caring nature, despite everything he’s been through in life. It’s the kind of thing that draws you and everyone else towards him.

“I’d like that.”

He gives you a small smile and a nod before continuing. “Okay, change of plan, then,” he decides. “It’ll take too long for your room to warm up. You’re can stay in mine.”

Bob doesn’t give you a chance to try and convince him otherwise. He turns around instantly, bringing you with him as you leave your bedroom. His room isn’t too far away from yours, just a few doors up the hallway. You’re glad to still be holding onto him as you walk towards it. Your head is still spinning, vision a little blurry, and the fact that you couldn’t feel how cold your bedroom apparently was tells you that you think you might be coming down with a fever.

“It’s just in here,” Bob mutters as he pushes open the door to his own bedroom. He smiles as he feels how warm the room is, glad he’d left his heating on when he’d left it this morning. He kicks the door shut behind him and walks with you over to the bed, sitting you down on it and pulling the covers back. If he’d known this was going to happen, he would’ve at least washed the sheets for you. He hopes you won’t mind.

He carefully helps you lay down, adjusting the pillow behind your head, and does his best to try and tuck you in. He’s never been particularly good when it comes to things like this. As a child, he’d never learnt those things from his parents. He tries his best to comfort people when they need it, but he never considers himself very good at it.

It’s once you’re laying in his bed, tucked in, that he realises he doesn’t know what to do next. “Uh… I don’t really know what to do to help you now,” he admits sheepishly. He’d gotten you here and tucked you in, but other than that he was drawing a blank.

“It’s okay,” you insist. “I’m good at taking care of myself.” You reach up a hand and place it onto your forehead, trying to see if your suspicion of having a fever is correct. You’re not surprised when you remove your hand and find it a little wet from sweat. “I think I’m coming down with a fever though… I guess I really am sick.”

Bob’s eyes widen. A fever? He has no idea how to treat a fever. He reaches for his bedside table, opens the drawer and pulls out his phone. He has one but he doesn’t like to use it very often. He finds that being on it, especially on social media and reading about the incident he’d created a while back, doesn’t often help when it comes to dealing with the side of him that had created the Void. He sits down on the edge of his bed and unlocks it.

“What are you doing?” You ask, watching him as he types something.

“I’m doing a Google,” he explains.

How to help someone that has a cold, his Google search says.

You watch him as he alternates between scrolling and typing, assuming he’s making some kind of list on his phone of how to help you. You’re smiling without even realising it, thinking about how sweet he is to be doing all of this for you without you even having to ask him to. He’s doing it all just because he wants to.

“What did you come up with, Doctor Reynolds?” You ask after a few minutes.

He looks up from his phone, a small smile on his lips at the nickname. “Google says that warm liquids, like soup or warm water with lemon, are good for you. It also says that putting a wet cloth on your forehead could help the fever. There were a few websites that mentioned painkillers, too… might have to enlist the help of the others for those. I don’t think that they’ll let me near them… for good reason, I guess.” His track record when it comes to drugs is not very good. 

“Did you make a list? How many websites did you check?” 

Bob looks down at his phone again. “Uh, all twelve on the first page.” He turns his phone around to show you the list he’s written on the notes app. It’s full to the brim of things that he’s found to try and help you get over your cold.

The simple fact that he’d gone to such an effort to find a way to take care of you when he didn’t know how makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside – and you’re certain it’s not because of the fever that you feel this way. 

“You know that you don’t have to, right, Bob?” You mutter. “I can look after myself.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean that you should have to,” he shrugs. 

You reach a hand out of the blankets and rest it on his knee – the only part of him that you can reach without stretching your arm too far. “Aren’t you meant to be training with John and Ava today, though?”

Bob nods, but he’s unbothered. He’s not going to leave you when you’re sick just to go and do some training. Training is something he can do whenever, but helping you when you don’t feel well only happens once in a blue moon. He’s not going to waste time by leaving you to fend for yourself, especially when you have a fever. Deep down, he knows that this is the right thing for him to be doing today. If he left you to go and train, he knows that he’d just spend the entire time being guilty and irritable.

He reaches out a hand and places it on your forehead, wincing a little as he feels how warm you are. “Training can wait,” he says, removing his hand. “I’m going to go and ask Yelena if she can order some soup for you online and I’ll get you a wet cloth for your forehead. I’ll try and see if I can manage to get them to get me some painkillers for you, too.” 

“You won’t be gone too long, will you?” You say, unable to stop the words before they come from your mouth. Apparently it’s not only your body that’s being weak and betraying you today, but your mind as well. 

Bob can’t help the small smile that comes to his face. “Not long,” he promises. “You should try and get some sleep while I’m gone. All of the websites on Google said that sleep and rest are the most important things above anything else.”

You’re glad that Bob hasn’t lingered too much on your slip up. You’re even more glad that no one else was around to hear it – it was definitely the kind of thing that would end up with you being teased by every other member of the team if they’d overheard it.

“I’ll try and sleep,” you tell him, meaning every word. 

“Good,” Bob hums, placing his hand on top of yours, still resting on his knee, and giving it a squeeze. He may not be the best doctor, or any kind of doctor at all, but until you’re better, looking after you comes before anything else. After all, being able to sit by your side like this and have you willingly let him take care of you isn’t something he’s going to take for granted. He’s sure that soon enough, you will be back to your usual stubborn, loud self. But even then, he doesn’t plan to stray too far from your side.

[happyhauntt]

— march fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.

a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in march that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!

grishaverse.

➡ kaz brekker.

what do you want from me by @rubysunnday. notes: literally perfect wtf.

dark days by rubysunnday. notes: i reread this literally constantly, it is so perfect, kaz's characterisation is perfect, i adore it.

bloody hands by rubysunnday. notes: i devoured this whole thing like a starving person it was sO good.

when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds. notes: this is so beautiful honestly i have no words.

the lost princess by @ellewritesalright. notes: look it's only part one but elle is a fucking wizard and i'm a sucker for an anastasia au.

you and me (a whole lot of history) by @heliads. notes: this was so cute and such a clever concept i fell in love!!!

schat by @amourology. notes: fully choked this is so adorable.

soulmate by @magpiencrow. notes: KAZ BREKKER SOULMATE AU didn't know i needed this but now i need 100 more!!!!

➡ nikolai lantsov.

nine long years series by @ellewritesalright. notes: i am actively fucking screaming over this fic. i will never stop. this might genuinely be the best thing i've read in a LONG while. everything about it has me sobbing i actively CANNOT COPE. and it's not even finished yet.

one of us by @songofpatrochilless. notes: literally had me sobbing you don't understand the domesticity of it all!!!!!.

come on back to me by @atlabeth. notes: there is a very strong chance that i'll literally never stop screaming about this fic.

dreams of you by @wh0refornikolailantsov. notes: every cell in my body is SCREAMING.

this love by @lantsovsupremacist. notes: did not, in fact, give you permission to hurt me like this do it again.

salt in the wound by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: brain goes brrrr this has everything i need to survive tbh.

wanting was enough by @rubysunnday. notes: beautiful stunning magnificent i want to eat it.

an exhausted smile by @writing-havoc. notes: think i had an aneurysm reading this it was that amazing.

run away with me by @sumsebien. notes: i am still sobbing over this.

in emerald hearts, emerald minds by @undiscovered-horizon. notes: love love love love love. there aren't enough words in any language to describe how much i love this.

➡ alina starkov.

alina starkov x reader by @heliads. notes: alina does not get nearly enough love and this was so fucking sad and cute and brilliant.

➡ nina zenik.

the ten steps to 'i love you' by @sophierequests. notes: this was SO HEARTWARMING AND SWEET i adored it!!!

➡ zoya nazyalensky.

forget-me-nots by @syllvane. notes: not enough zoya fics on this hellsite. but also this ripped my heart out and made me sob so RUDE. i feel devastated.

➡ inej ghafa.

inej ghafa x reader by @heliads. notes: INEJ MY SWEET BABY, this fic is everything to me. everything. and it's so beautifully written!!!

➡ the darkling.

the dark side of the moon series by @myhairpintrigger. notes: this fic is ASTOUNDING. i haven’t cried this much reading something in a long time. i was FULL-BODY SOBBING. i don’t even like the darkling. i am Not a darkling girlie. but i was intrigued by concept of this fic and i can safely say it has ruined my life. this is Emotional Damage Incarnate. i will never recover. author, i salute you.

911.

through the smoke by @borntobewondering. notes: spent twenty whole minutes sobbing after reading this. i felt undone i felt hollow i felt so utterly fucked. author is a genius and that's all there is to say.

not so one night stand by @shmaptainwrites. notes: this was so fuckin adorable i'm in love.

d.c. to l.a. by shmaptainwrites. notes: bobby my guy just doesn't get enough fucking credit and this is so fucking adorable.

criminal minds.

➡ spencer reid.

trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs. notes: this series is. it's literally. everything. i love bugsy like she's my own child. sister relationships are everything to me. i spent an hour sobbing in my bed over parts 2 and 3. i want this tattooed on my forehead.

➡ aaron hotchner.

found by @benedictscanvas. notes: DADDY i mean what. all jokes aside this was so sweet and beautiful and i'm in love the writing!!!

doctor who.

rage rage (against the dying of the light) by @morganas-pendragons. notes: felt feral after reading this. kayla just gets me in my feels every time.

heartbeat by morganas-pendragons. notes: this was the most emotional devastating thing i've ever read and i fully needed 3-5 business days to recover. rude. i want 100 more.

untitled by morganas-pendragons. notes: PAIN i love this so much.

ache by morganas-pendragons. notes: just scoop my heart out of my fucking chest i don't want it anymore after reading this.

a mind full of blissful terrors by @magiccath. notes: simply fucking amazing.

light in the dark by @i-imagine-my-doctor. notes: screaming please i adore this so much.

baby talk by @kisstherainwriting. notes: THE ABSOLUTE CUTIEST EVER. there's not enough clara fics and this had me squealing and feeling all warm and fuzzy!!!

holding my hand by kisstherainwriting. notes: angst galore this was STUNNING.

in another's eyes by @cas-kingdom. notes: PERFECTION.

where do we go now series by @theetherealbloom. notes: literally so fucking amazing i don't have enough words.

marauders.

the winner takes it all by @ellecdc. notes: brb faye is having a STROKE--

come back, be here series by ellecdc. notes: i think i had a full on stroke while reading this series. the attention to detail is insane. the characterisation is perfect.

i don't know you anymore (maybe i never really did) by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels. notes: SCREECHING i'm in love you don't understand.

bridgerton.

➡ anthony bridgerton.

distractions by @peterpparkrr. notes: simply immaculate.

right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch. notes: did you mean one of my favourite tropes bc this is it.

right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & @thirteenisles. notes: i felt feral after reading this tbh.

➡ sibling!reader.

reluctant caretaker by @rubysunnday. notes: this fic hit my heart in all the right places okay sibling stuff means everything to me.

did she have a cookie by rubysunnday. notes: a joyous read from start to finish i CACKLED the whole way through.

moon knight.

come back to me by @mgparker. notes: still sobbing. immaculate.

the other sarcophagus by @starryevermore. notes: i literally reread this constantly i adore it so much!!

marc spector x reader by @softlyspector. notes: i had an aneurysm reading this and i haven't been the same since.

more marc spector x reader by softlyspector. notes: i am having an intense emotion hold on. anytime i see autistic stuff in canon content for any fandom i SQUEAK. and this is so well done honestly.

star wars.

heartless by @youvebeenlivingfictional. notes: i reread this constantly, it's so amazing and heartwrenching and beautiful and i want to eat it.

little talks by @light-yaers. notes: you simply do not understand how much i adore everything beff writes. i adore this fic more than i need oxygen to breathe.

right where you left me series by light-yaers. notes: personality-defining series. i LIVE for this fic. every update adds five years to my lifespan. if you're not reading this you are MISSING OUT.

a light, a song, a bluebird by @millllenniawrites. notes: made me SOB 10/10 would recommend if you like emotional trauma.

invisible string by @campingwiththecharmings. notes: pining!!! loneliness!!! i adore!!!

hard landings by @softlyspector. notes: no. no you don't understand. this fic doesn't just own my soul it is my soul. i want it tattooed on my face.

misc.

hopper x reader by @luveline. notes: you don't understand this might be the cutest shit i've ever read and jade is a fellow welsh person which automatically makes them brilliant in my book.

muña by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: alicent means fucking everything to me and this had me sobbing.

mistletoe magic by @writingsbychlo. notes: literally the cutest fucking thing ever, had me kicking my legs and squealing!!

[p-seduonym]

Switched At Birth (Part Nine)

A/N: Annnd I'm back! Hey y'all I just needed a breather for a bit. My brain was indundated me with ideas so I took a break. But I'm here now! Here's a hefty chapter to compensate for my absence. It's a bit more character centered, explaining Melissa's neglect in the Batfam. Also, thank you all so much for your ideas! I promise I'll get into a few of them after this chapter.

Taglist (I'll add you if you ask): @von-jour, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @kenyummy, @bunniotomia, @ch1cky-093, @toxicthotsyndrome68, @cynniee, @icefox8155, @eyeless-kun, @c4xcocoa, @ed15fashionista, @yourtypicalhuman09, @fightmebissh. @tsuniio, @fantasyhopperhea, @type-ink, @dirtydiavolo, @colorfulgardenerduck, @seemeee3, @ironsaladwitch, @yumeravenclaw, @jjsmeowthie, @snowy-violet, @wizzerreblogs, @ratterpatter, @gremlin-dumpster-fire-art, @anonymoustext, @a-heavenly-hell, @holderoflostmemories, @ilovecoffe0, @presleyamos, @lordbugs, @shyenemyperson, @adrakeshoard, @sadeem575, @nebsisdead, @moon0goddess

Yandere!Batfam X Switched! Fem! Reader X Yandere!Wayne!OC

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Tatienne Crow was your birth mother.

From the many glossy fashion spreads and tabloid snippets to the singular, sterile obituary, you'd pieced together a reasonable portrait. She had been young—too young, maybe—vivacious, and sharp in a way that made people both admire and fear her. In every photograph, she looked like she knew a secret no one else did. As if she was in on the joke of the world. A model turned muse, turned fleeting cautionary tale.

She lived fast and loose, long faded magazines said. Hopped continents on invite alone, slipped into parties through back entrances, and tangled herself in the arms of men who had more money than morals. There were plenty of rumors and scandals, of addiction, of various paramours, of a baby born from a particularly messy affair.

That's what she was like.

On paper, at least.

From Mel, you had heard her side– the version not meant for publication.

“She loved hard,” Melissa confessed the day you met, eyes glassy but unblinking. “Like… it was the only way she knew how to prove she was real.”

And that was all she could muster.

So you were left to find the rest yourself.

A light drizzle painted the street under the eerie silver beams of the full moon. It was the kind of Gotham rain that made everything feel blurred at the edges.

This building is old, art deco styled—elegant but weary. Previously housing models, designers, socialites, it now mostly holds ghosts and legacy leases. The doorman was long gone, and the security system, not so lucky.

Entering the service stairwell, you quickly climbed the emergency stairs with deliberate steps. Floor after floor, you ascended until you reached the twenty first floor. The door to the hallway was locked, but not for long. You were far from an expert, but you still fetched the tool from your duffle and kneel. It was pretty crude; just a bobby pin snapped in half and fixed to a paper clip. You were still learning, after all. But, still, you were determined, and more than a little curious. That helps.

And your efforts were rewarded with a soft click. 

The carpeted floors muffled your steps as you crept into the dim hallways.The number plate on the door is still there: 2102. The gold is tarnished, a little crooked, like it was trying desperately not to be seen.The door was shut firmly, so you fished out your second tool: a simple screwdriver from the garage’s toolbox. Feeling oddly calm and collected, you began to unscrew the door from its hinges. Removing the last screw, you gently coaxed the door from its groove in the doorway.

It gave way with a heavy and reluctant sigh, like the apartment itself resented being disturbed. 

Regardless, you stepped inside, crossing the threshold of the ornate mausoleum. 

Dust spilled in the slant of the moonlight, as a long abandoned world unfurls before you; silk curtains half-drawn, wine stained carpet, a faint scent of roses and smoke clinging to the air like an old memory.

Everything is still here. Unlived-in, untouched. Like someone meant to come back, but never did.

You moved past the foyer into the living room. The furniture is lush and fading. You spotted a glass ashtray that still held a single, half-burned cigarette. Beneath a wall of vinyls, a record player sat idle. Diana Ross. Nico. Bowie.

You didn’t bother with the lights, whether they still worked or not.

Instead you just walked deeper into the gloom, a quiet silhouette in your mother’s tomb. The city buzzed incessantly outside. And here, in the dark, you feel something almost ancient settle over your shoulders.

Not grief.

Not yet.

Just weight.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out and saw Melissa’s name flashing.

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

Instead, you looked around once more, feeling the silence pulse around you like a second heartbeat. Then, as the phone buzzed again, you brought it to your ear.

“Hey,” you said, tone careful. You didn’t tell her where you were.

“Hey,” Melissa replied, her voice soft, like she already knew. “Is this a bad time?”

You turn towards the window, stretching from the carpeted floor to the ceiling, decorated with a murky, glass chandelier. The Gotham skyline blinked in gold and gray beyond the rain-streaked glass.

“No,” you answered, gently dragging your fingertips along the sofa. You could see a slight discoloration in the path. “Just on a walk. Thinking.”

Melissa, bless her heart, didn’t call out your lie. Rather, she just hummed in acknowledgement. 

“About what?”

The air grew silent around you. You could only hear Melissa breathing as well as some light shuffling in the background. You continued through your trek through the recesses of your mother’s home. Instead of answering, you replied with another question.

“Hey…tell me more about her?”

“Hmm?” Melissa made a questioning noise. “About who?”

“You know.”

There was a pause on the line. You could hear the faint sound of water running in the background—maybe a sink, maybe rain outside her window

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…hard to talk about her”

You reached a room that looked like the master suite. A large plush bed, with a walk-in closet. The air was stale—thick with dust and the faded sweetness of long-dead perfume. Something floral, maybe jasmine, but heavier, more decadent. It clung to the walls, the drapes, the velvet settee in the corner, like memory embalmed in fragrance. Against the far wall, a vanity sat coyly. And as you approached, you saw the remnants of Tatienne.

Your fingers ghosted over an old lipstick tube—Tom Ford, discontinued years ago. Your reflection in the vanity mirror was dim, your face softly fractured by dust.

“You don’t have to, if it’s too much”

“N-No, you deserve this much. She-”

Melissa cut herself off with a sigh. Without seeing it, you knew she was likely fidgeting with her hand. 

“She was a lot,” She said it like a confession. “ Like– too much, in every way. Too young, too messy, too beautiful, too loud–”

You stared into the mirror. If you looked closely enough, you felt like Tatienne was staring back.

You didn’t say anything. She needed room, not encouragement. 

“--Like she was born too big for the world and just kept cracking at the edges trying to fit into it.”

You opened a container of rouge. A jagged crack split the makeup in two halves.

“She used to wear perfume that smelled like grapefruit and cigarettes. Had this way of putting lipstick on while yelling at someone on the phone. And when she laughed?” Melissa gave a weak chuckle. “You’d think the world was ending. It always felt like the last good sound you’d ever hear.”

There was another pause. A quieter one this time.

“But…she loved too much.” Melissa’s voice lowered. “Like she had too much of it, and it hurt her. She never talked about any family. I think something went wrong along the way and they don’t talk anymore. But, she still wanted to be loved, you know? There were a lot of guys. None of them stuck around for long”

Her voice grew dreamy, like she was in trance. 

“To love and be loved…isn’t that what everyone wants?”

Melissa sighed. 

“I think she loved Bruce. You probably know how that turned out. He…wasn’t around when I was little, I think that hurt her too. She didn’t say it though”

“‘Drug-addict,’ ‘Whore’... I didn't really know what those meant when I was little,” Melissa murmured. “...but I knew they were bad.”

“She loved me. I know she did. Things…just got too bad for her.”

As Melissa spoke, you moved deeper into the closet.

It was larger than you expected. Almost theatrical in size—more like a showroom than a personal space. And yet, it felt strangely hollow. The kind of emptiness that wasn’t born from disuse, but from careful, deliberate curation. A life stripped for display.

The good pieces were gone. That much was clear. No archival Dior, no high-fashion heels or designer handbags. In their place: moth-eaten furs, loud sequined gowns with dated cuts, satin robes dulled from wear. The clothes that remained were ostentatious but not luxurious—cheap, performative, and loud in a way that felt desperate.

Like they were trying to be seen.

A few empty hangers swung gently from the metal rack, clicking together like wind chimes. On a low shelf, a pair of strappy stilettos sat abandoned, one heel broken. A single run-down hatbox was tucked in the corner, partially open, revealing feathers and crushed netting—stagewear, maybe. Costume jewelry glittered under a faint layer of dust.

“I-I really didn’t want to go with Bruce, but I didn’t have anyone else. I thought he’d have problems, like she did, but would still care. Would still love me, cause I was his daughter, right?”

You crouched in the closet, one hand resting on the floor for balance. The air in here was heavier somehow, thicker. You ran your fingers along a sequined dress that caught the dim light like a broken disco ball.

“I thought that meant something,” Melissa continued, her voice thinner now. “But it didn’t. Not really. He barely looked at me. The others... they didn’t either.”

You let the silence stretch, watching dust particles drift lazily in the air like ash.

“Dick, he was nice, you know? It took a bit to see him after I got there, but he always smiled. Always said ‘Hi’ and ‘How are you?’. It was a bit much at first, but it felt nice.”

She gave a small, humorless huff.

“But, I kinda knew I wasn't important to him. Not really. He always had something else to do or someone else to be with. I-It’s not like I needed him around all the time, I just never had a brother before and hoped we could spend time together. He was everyone’s ‘big brother’, right?”

You found an old pair of stilettos knocked sideways in a pile. One heel was broken. You gently set them upright, for no real reason.

“I kind of realized he was just being that. ‘Nice’, I mean, cause that’s what you do with strangers.”

Your fingers drifted along a rack of disheveled dresses. One of them still bore a faint perfume—jasmine warped into something more acrid with age. You noted the odd arrangement: heavier pieces in the front, lighter ones stuffed toward the back. Like someone had stopped caring how things were organized.

“Jason was … complicated. Came from Crime Alley and his mom had problems too. I tried to understand, even if I didn’t completely get it. I guess I was too much–” She chuckled, without any mirth. “He…didn’t like me. I walked behind him one time and he just…snapped. I-I guess I was too quick or too quiet or something? He grabbed me. Pinned me to the wall. I thought he was going to break my arm, he twisted it so hard.”

You knelt to examine a box tucked underneath a sagging shelf. It contained several Polaroids—some curled from moisture, others scrawled on in red pen. Men’s names. Phone numbers. A few love notes, probably never sent. Each one another thread of the life Tatienne had tried to weave, only for it to unravel again and again.

“Left bruises for a while. He said it was a reflex, but what kind of reflex does that? Dick said I should be more careful next time…I didn’t talk to him after that.”

The residual droplets of rain had long passed dried on your hoodie, but a chill still raked itself down your body. Even then, you didn’t shiver.

“Tim was a miracle child. A prodigy to be proud of. It was hard being his age, cause he just accomplished so much already. I thought we could relate, even a little. But he always had this look like he was talking to a child. We came to the manor at the same time, but I always felt out of place. Not like him”

You closed the box.

Not everything here was worth keeping. But it was worth knowing.

This wasn’t just a closet.

It was the final echo of a woman who had tried to live larger than her circumstances—who had loved hard, fallen harder, and still left something behind.

“Damian was always someone I couldn’t figure out. He never acted like a kid. Never talked like one, either. But the first day I met him, he looked at me with…disgust. I didn’t know why, but It felt weird to be completely dressed down by a kid, but– ” Her voice sounded suspiciously watery. 

“Steph was sweet. For like, a week. She gave me a tour of the manor. Giggled about how weird it all was. Acted like we were gonna be friends. Then she just… stopped. Like I didn’t pass some invisible test. One day she was inviting me to sit with her in the garden, the next she barely looked up when I said hi. Cass never spoke to me. It was almost a relief, really, after all that..”

You halted, stopping your search in its place. Pressing the phone closer to your ear, your heard her take a shaky breath.

“I tried,” she said. “I really did. I was polite. Quiet. I didn’t ask for anything. I just… I just wanted to belong somewhere. I thought if I didn’t cause trouble, they’d make room for me. But I was always just... extra. Like a guest that didn’t know when to leave”

“I thought maybe if I could be more like them—more polished, more useful, more whatever—I’d matter. But they already had each other. And I was just some charity case nobody knew what to do with. Not a sister. Not a daughter.”

You stood now, slowly, carefully. Your gaze drifted back to the mirror. Your reflection was still dim, still fractured. But not just yours. Hers too. Hers especially.

“They didn’t see me,” Melissa whispered. “Not really.”

And still, she hadn’t raised her voice. Not once.

You realized, maybe she never had.

Not to them.

Not to anyone.

Not even when she should have.

You looked at your reflection again—dusty, dim, and still. But something inside you had shifted. A thread pulled taut, then snapped. You’d always known Melissa was lonely. But not like this. Not this hollow.

You brought the phone back to your ear, voice low but certain.

“They’ll see you now.”

Melissa didn’t answer right away. You imagined her curling tighter into herself, unsure whether she’d heard you right.

“I mean it,” you said, firmer this time. “Whatever it takes. I’ll make them look. I’ll make them see you.”

A long silence passed on the line, soft as breath.

Then, faintly:

“…Thank you.”

Right before you hit "End Call", Mel whispered to you, almost a confession.

"--she would have loved you, y'know?"

You ended the call a moment later but didn’t move. Just stood there, surrounded by remains of a woman who burned too brightly, promising yourself—

You would do it better.

You would wear the name, the smile, the war paint of wealth.

You’d step into the light like it belonged to you.

And when they turned to look at you, it would be her they’d see.

It would always be her.

A/N: Sorry for all the names! I know this is suppose to be a reader-insert but it always felt awkward to me to just put stuff life (Y/L/N) or (M/N), you feel me? If you'd don't like it, I'll try to avoid name in the future. Btw, did you notice the subtle similarities between reader and Bruce? I'm asking cause I might have made it too subtle, almost nonexistent.

[bucksaiga]

Shortly after their daughter's adoption was finalized, Buck and Tommy were visited by a lawyer holding a wooden box with a metal clasp.

“I’m here on behalf of Robert Nash as his executor. In his will and testament, he requested that this be delivered to you personally if you ever became a parent or legal guardian.”

“Uh—ah…thank you.” Buck accepted the box with a puzzled look on his face, glancing at Tommy as he cradled their daughter in his arms. “D-do you know what it is?”

“No. Only you are allowed to open it and see the contents.”

After the lawyer left, Buck sat at the table staring at the box. Did he inherit something from Bobby? He was almost too excited to open it.

Tommy sat beside him, holding their fussy baby and preparing her bottle with his free hand.

“Don’t just stare at it, sweetheart. Open it.” Tommy encouraged.

Buck nodded as he slowly opened the front clasp and lifted the lid.

There were various little keepsakes inside, many that he recognized.

He grabbed the letter sitting on top and opened it.

Hey kid,

If you're reading this letter, it means I didn't get the chance to give this to you myself. I wanted to give this to you whenever you decide to have kids of your own.

It isn't much. Probably not like one of those baby boxes you didn’t get from your parents, but I collected some things along the way from the journey we shared together since the moment you set foot into the firehous, like the Bruce Springsteen concert ticket and my visitor tag from the time you got struck by lightning.

Yes, there are some good things and some bad things in here, but they all remind us that this is real. Every life we saved, every call we responded to, every moment we shared. It all happened. And we got through it all—together. As a family.

I’m proud of you, Buck. You were always like a son to me, even when I tried to deny it. You snuck your way into my heart and have been part of it all this time like you were my own kid.

Share these memories with your own family and remember that even though life is finite, love lasts forever.

Love,

Bobby

Tears fell from Buck’s eyes. He sniffled as he continued to rummage through the box, laughing through his soft cries.

He showed Tommy all the little keepsakes: candy from the haunt fest, a picture of a full moon and even a piece of Bobby’s welcome banner when he returned to the firehouse as captain.

Buck began to sob, wondering what else Bobby would have put in the box if he had more time before passing away 2 years ago.

“You know something I always carry with me that isn’t in this box?” Buck asked.

“Hmm?”

“Bobby told me that you’re good people. And…you’re good for me.” He smiled. “I’m glad I listened.”

“Me too.” Tommy smiled back.

Buck glanced down at their beautiful daughter, lost in the baby's big, bright eyes as she tried to hold her own bottle with her tiny hand. “Bobby would’ve loved her.”

“I think he sent that love in advance. That keepsake box is proof of that.”

Buck continued to look through the box, smiling through his tears, laughing at all the memories that would stay with him forever.

[wendichester]

⋆˙⟡ always almost²,

summary. sam's had enough of you stringing him along. and you lose every part of him. so now, you're focused on getting him back right.

pairing. sam winchester x reader genre. slow angst-to-fluff

wordcount. 928

notes / warnings. heartbreak, slow emotional healing, guilt, personal growth, pining, quiet tenderness, no smut, just heavy emotional vulnerability and a slow-burn arc toward love

ᯓ★ read part 1

You don’t call him.

Not that first week. Not after the door shuts and the motel room goes still and cold like your breath got locked in with him.

You want to run after him—God, everything in you wants to run after him. But something in Sam’s voice told you that if you did, if you tried to fix it with more soft smiles and vague apologies, you’d only break it further.

So you don’t.

Instead, you sit in the quiet. You let the silence soak in, let it sting. Because he’s right. You did hurt him. Over and over, in a thousand subtle ways. Not out of cruelty—but out of carelessness. Out of fear. Because it was easier to be everything to Sam except the one thing that could actually hurt you.

His.

It takes time. Weeks. A full moon cycle, maybe more. You keep hunting. Keep breathing. You help Dean with a case up north, spend a night on Bobby’s couch, and patch up a hunter you barely know after a wendigo nearly takes his leg off.

You don’t flirt. You don’t joke. You don’t even wear the perfume you used to because you remember Sam saying once—years ago—that it drove him crazy in a way he didn’t know how to handle.

Every time you want to call him, you write instead. Tiny notes in your phone. Things you wish you’d said, things you want to say, and things you know you’ll only say when it’s right.

Like:

I see it now. What I did. I loved you in the way a coward does—halfway. You deserved all of me. Not just the parts I was comfortable giving.

You don’t send them. But you save them. Because this—what you feel now—isn’t a crush. It’s not fleeting. It’s not a game. It’s grief, yes, but it’s also a slow awakening. The realization that love like his doesn’t come twice.

You cross paths again in Sioux Falls. A vampire nest. Coincidence, maybe. Or maybe Bobby did it on purpose—called you both in without telling either one.

You’re elbow-deep in vamp gore when you hear it.

That voice.

“Watch your six.”

Sam. Calm. Sharp. Familiar.

You spin around just in time to watch him swing a machete clean through a bloodsucker’s neck.

For a second, time folds. You’re back in that motel. Back in the pain. But then he looks at you. And nods.

It’s not much.

But it’s something.

You work the rest of the case side by side, careful and wordless. Your shoulders brush once in a dark hallway and you nearly stop breathing. But you don’t speak. Neither does he.

When it’s over, you both sit on the porch of the safehouse in silence. A beer in your hand, untouched.

He breaks it, finally. “You look good.”

You swallow hard. “I’ve been trying.”

A pause. “I noticed.”

It’s quiet again.

“I’m not expecting anything,” you say softly, staring out at the stars. “I just want to… start showing up the way I should’ve before. Even if you never want more than this. Even if all I ever get is silence. I’ll still be here. Better this time.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t leave either.

The next few hunts are coincidence too. Probably.

You text Dean sometimes—he tells you when he and Sam are working near your area. You offer help. Quietly. Without strings.

It starts small: You stitch Sam’s arm in the back of a truck bed. You carry extra coffee because you remember how he likes it—black, no sugar. You laugh when he makes jokes again, and you don’t reach for his hand.

You don’t touch him. You don’t lean on him. You don’t take anything he’s not ready to give.

And he notices.

Slowly, the air between you shifts. The guilt lifts, bit by bit. You catch him watching you in quiet moments—eyes soft, not angry anymore. Just... remembering.

It’s nearly six months later when it happens.

A small town. Poltergeist. You’re in the back of a diner after the hunt, still a little bruised and dusty. Sam’s across the table. You’re both quiet—comfortable this time. Tired. Real.

You’re talking about something dumb—school mascots, maybe—and you say something that makes him laugh. Really laugh. Loud and bright. It hits you so hard in the chest you almost tear up right then and there.

“I missed that,” you murmur without meaning to.

He looks at you, expression unreadable.

You hesitate, then reach into your jacket pocket and pull out your phone. You scroll for a second, then hand it to him.

On the screen: the notes.

All of them. The confessions. The ugly truths. The things you never let yourself say out loud.

Sam reads slowly. You watch him—your throat a live wire, your heart pressed against your ribs like it’s begging for a way out.

When he finishes, he sets the phone down.

He looks at you.

And for the first time since that day in the motel, his voice is soft.

“You still mean it?”

You nod. “Every word.”

Another beat.

Then—he reaches across the table. Takes your hand.

Your breath catches.

“I needed time,” he says. “But I never stopped loving you. I just stopped waiting for you to choose me.”

You squeeze his hand. “I’m not choosing you because I’m scared of being alone anymore. I’m choosing you because I finally see you. All of you.”

His thumb brushes your knuckle.

And this time, when you smile at him—when you say, “I love you,”—it’s not a maybe.

It’s a promise.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[blog-of-agony-and-despair]

Bobby “sisterfucker” Floyd.

What happens when Bradley “rooster” Bradshaw finds out bobs been hooking up with his sister one day after he visits..and better yet how does hangman end up with the broken nose?

Warnings: mentions of smut, nakedness, blood, reader is a Bradshaw, swearing, slight violence, use of y/n.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Rooster said to everyone from the get-go, on his very first day at top, “my sister is off limits.”

He watched you with everyone and made sure nobody gave you any looks or smirks- really made it clear to everyone after shoving Jake against the lockers after he made a comment about you.

Or... he'd made that clear to everyone else. Bob assumes rooster doesn't see him as a threat. Why would he? Bradley’s underestimated him from the start.

It started late one night- you and him were the only ones sober after a mission gone very right and you were the ones to make sure everyone got to their homes safely..including Jake. It was the first time he was really alone with you and he realised how nice and sweet you really were. (When your brother wasn’t hovering over you.)

You invited him into your apartment for a quick cup of tea..which- you swear! That’s all it was!..at first, anyway..but when you caught glimpse of him shrugging off his jacket your on the hook near your front door- his arms flexing and his shirt leaving very little to the imagination? How were you expected to keep your hands off him?!

Throughout the night, you’d exchanged glances and smiled at each-over and he even played a couple of games of pool with him..which led to you bending, strategically, over right in front of him- which then led to him having to fix himself discreetly in his pants, praying your brother doesn’t see him.

You knew he wanted you. And the smirk on your face every time you saw him shift made him realise you wanted him just as much.

The second he sat down on the couch, the two of you just knew- your lips smashed against each-overs and you ended up on top of him. You grabbed his arms with purpose and his hands went to your waist as he pulled you further onto him.

He apologised profusely after your little..rendezvous on your couch- rambling on about how he should have gotten you dinner first or at least taken you to the bed- you could only laugh as you put a hand over his mouth- “it’s fine! I..I loved it.” You muttered as you leant in and kissed him again.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Three weeks later and your laying in bed with him..your not quite sure what the two of you are exactly. He got you dinner a couple of nights after your first time and the two of you have been eating, sleeping together, watching movies and having a good time since.

You have the biggest crush on him. Of course you do. You’re simply waiting for the day he actually asks you to be his girlfriend. It must be coming soon. right?

Your laying in bed together, in your two- room apartment, the two rooms being the bedroom kitchen and living room, and then the bathroom.

Your both naked and facing each-over, his finger gently tracing some patterns along your hip with his left hand- his right hand keeps his head propped up with his elbow on your pillow. “You’re so pretty.” He whispers, his face inches from yours. The afternoon sun that shines from the small gap between the curtains shines perfectly on your face as he stares at you like you hung the moon and the stars themselves..

Your joggers are on the floor- not far away from his jeans and your shirt is next to his boxers. Both of your clothes make a pure mess on the floor.

You smile and lean further forward, pressing your head against his. “No, you.” You mutter, letting out a small sigh..

He lets out a small laugh- “my glasses-” he leans back slightly and you giggle when you see how fogged up they are. He takes them off and wipes them with the end of your blanket- you cup his face before he can put them back on.. “Wait, let me see you.” You gently push his head back, leaning back yourself as you take in how he looks without the metal frames.

You smile as he very slightly narrows his eyes at you, trying to see you- “you look good with and without- but with turns me on more.” You only half joke as you put his glasses on the beside table. “I love your glasses.”

“Thanks.” He whispers playfully, leaning and gently pressing his lips against yours- “not bad yourself.” He leans in and kisses you deeper, gently moving you so your on your back and he pulls himself over you, his chest now against yours. He trails his hand down the side of your hip, gently lifting himself to drone his hand down your front, only stopping when he’s hovering over where you need him so fucking bad-

Your brother, Bradley, likes to visit you on Sundays. Every Sunday- 1:20 sharp unless you tell him otherwise.

Which is why hes strolling casually up the stairs towards your apartment door- 182. He has a key- but he makes sure to knock. (every time)

“Y/n?” He knocks, calling into the room.

You lean back and look towards your door in pure panic- “shit!” You mutter and practically shove Bob off of you, he pulls his fingers out of you gently and looks towards the door.

“Is that Bradley?!” He whispers- eyes wide in horror and mouth ajar-

If Brad sees Bob here, you have no idea what’ll happen, he’ll freak out and- god, it isn’t even worth thinking.

“One sec!” You shout and quickly get out of bed, grabbing your joggers. He does the same, grabbing his boxers and tugging them up desperately, but lets out a small yelp as he trips over them in his hurry, landing on his side on the floor- causing a rather loud thump to come from your room.

“Are you okay?” You hear brad knock louder, obviously assuming you’ve fallen over-

You grab your shirt and pull it on- looking to bob as he grabs the rest of his clothes and rolls under your bed. The sight makes you want to laugh- but you know you can’t, that would be far too obvious.

“I’m fine-”

You open the door- cheeks flushed, hair a mess and clothes messy. “Hey-” you smile the best you can, the nerves shooting through you. “Hi..” he walks in, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion. “You okay? You look kinda- flushed.” He puts his bag on your couch and goes to sit down-

“Yeah- I didn’t fall or anything, just tired- Look, this isn’t the best time-” your eyes keep wondering over to the bed- panicking inside.

He stops and turns to you. “what? Why? I thought we were getting lunch-” you curse yourself for not remembering that.

“I’m sorry- I’ve just been hit with something, I feel so sick-” you sniffle to add to your dramatics and he raises and unamused eyebrow..“sick?”

“Yeah- headache, fever..” you shrug and he looks at you for a couple of seconds- obviously not believing your bullshit. “You’ve got someone here.” It starts off as a question mixed with a statement..

“What?! No- no-” he scoffs. “You do- I kno-” he look to the bed..and sees glasses. “I don’t remember you wearing glasses..” he says sarcastically as he walks towards the bed and your panicky state only increases- “you look a mess- you have fucking hickeys for fucks sake-” he grumbled that last part- obviously because it disgusts him-

Your hand shoots up to cover the marks. “Brad-” you follow after him- watching as he stops at the glasses..“wait a minute..” he picks them up slowly- “these look similar too..” he slowly turns and looks at you- the look of pure dread on his face as the realisation seems to dawn on him a touch..

“Don’t tell me-” he looks around. “Where is he?!”

“Wait- okay- hear me out-!” You walk towards him quickly-

“Floyd?! Really-?” He holds up the glasses in shock.

“It’s better than Jake!” You scowl as he looks around again- “he’s here now, isn’t he?” He looks at you for a couple of moments and the look on your face is enough for him to realise that he is, in fact, in the apartment.

“Okay!” Bobs voice comes from under the bed. He slowly rolls himself out of the other side.

He stands up- only in his jeans. His hairs a mess and he has a couple of his own love bites going down the side of his neck, some minor scratch marks down his arms. “Okay- listen!” He holds his hands out-

Bradley glares at him- “I told you! Y/n is off-”

“I started it-!” You butt in quickly. “It isn’t..his fault. Not that it’s a fault- it’s amazing- I really like Bob-”

He glares at the two of you..obviously considering everything that’s going on. “So your..dating?”

“Yes..no..not- officially-” you ramble for a moment- “we’ve been on a couple dates but nothing too-”

“Yes.” Bob looks directly at you, not taking his eyes off you..“if she’ll have me-” you nod quickly at his words- your cheeks flushing slightly. “then yes..we’re dating.” He looks at Bradley..

“I can’t believe this- Bob fucking Floyd.” He mumbles as he turns away from you both, one hand on his hip and the other covering his face.

“Hey- I’m taking good care of her...I always do- I always will. you know you can trust me better than you can trust Jake or coyote- or even Fritz..”

Damm it- Bradley knows he’s right..and it kills him to admit that to himself.

“You hurt her- and it’s your head.” He points at Bob- who nods- “understood..but I’d never do that.” He reassures..

“Brad..I’ll call you later- okay?..” he looks at you for a couple of moments before he nods- passing you back his glasses. he quickly and awkwardly walks towards the door. “I’ll call you later!” He shouts as he gets to the door.

“Okay!” He opens and closes the door quickly, leaving in a rushed way- god he hated that entire situation.

A couple of moments after the door closes..you start laughing. “Shit-” you turn to him- a huge smile on your face- “you thought he was gonna kill you!”

Bob looks at you for a couple of moments in confusion..before he starts gently laughing with you, walking towards you slowly. “I’m glad my fear was funny for you.” He gently grabs your waist when he gets close enough and pulls you into him. “And we both thought he was gonna kill me.”

You smile and your arms wrap around his neck, leaning closer to him so your chest to chest. “Yeah, if I’m being honest I was shitting myself.” You lean up and gently press your lips to his.

He flinches back slightly when he gee the cold metal of his glasses touch his face but he relaxes when he feels you push them to his nose. He opens his eyes- blinking a couple of times before he sees you again, properly, this time.

“I’m glad we’re dating, darlin’.” He mutters as he presses his head to yours gently, swaying the two of you slightly. You hum in response- “me too..”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Less than half a week later, Jake and Bradley are in the locker rooms gets changed after working out, they’re both dripping with sweat. Jake’s been noticing something off about one of his best friends all day.

“Hey- something goin’ on?” He raises one arm to spray himself with deodorant.

“Nah. It’s Fine.” He nods slowly as he puts his belt on, making sure it goes through every loop on his jeans. “Perfectly fine..”

..“you don’t seem fine.” He mutters- not sure what exactly to do with him as he raises his other arm, spraying that one too.

“Y/n has a boyfriend.” He blurts out.

Jake perks up delightfully at that- and he laughs. “What?! Sometime got past your defences?!” He mocks as he grabs his boxers and puts them on under his towel.

“Shut up- he’s someone i actually…kinda trust with her, he’s..not the worst person for her.” He grumbles, grabbing his shirt.

“Well- who is the sisterfucker? Anyone we know?” Bradley feels a slight tinge of annoyance as he hesitantly answers.

“Fuck off, man-”

Jake laughs harder- “come on it must be someone we know, why else would you be all secretive and closed off.” He says as he pulls on his shirt. “Is it one of the boys? I bet it’s Fritz or somethi-”

“It’s Bob..” he mutters.

…

“What?” Jake can’t hide the smile that threatens to appear on his face- biting the inside of his lip.

“It’s Bobby.”

Jake bursts out laughing- “Bob Floyd?! Shyest guy on the team- with your sister?!” He grins widely as he takes in the information-

“Yeah- but shut up about it-”

“I can’t believe this! God- I thought your sister would go for someone..else- literally anyone else-”

“It don’t matter, she seems happy enough-”

“Sister fucker! It should be his call sign!”

He looks over as Jake turns to his locker, getting out his bag- as he does, the door opens to reveal Bob, glasses slightly steamed up from working out.

“Bob ‘sister fucker’ Floyd-!” He laughs harder at the irony and turns back to Brad- only to get left hooked right in the nose. He’s confusing sick of Jake’s comments and face and voice and-

He groans, bobs mouth opens and Bradley swears to himself, holding onto his hand- “fucking asshole! He isn’t a sister fucker- they’re actually dating! And it’s more than you ever have had.”

Bob has to take a couple of seconds to fully realise what’s going on..before he realises Bradley basically just defended both yours and his honour-

“The fuck?!” Jake moves back up, blood running out of his nose and down towards his lip- “I was fucking about! I’m happy for the idiots-” he walks towards the showers and turns one on, putting his face under it- wincing at the feeling as it does.

Bradley looks to Bob..“shut up.” He walks past him towards the door. Bobs eyebrows furrow in confusion- he didn’t say a word.

Jake turns to him..“how the fuck did it even happen anyway?..your..you.” He grumbles as he grabs a towel and puts it on his nose, it’ll have to do for the time being- most of the team know about Jake’s little crush on the Bradshaw sister.

…“a couple of weeks ago. When we won that mission?..when we got everyone home- she invited me into ‘er place..one thing led to another and..”

Jake looks at him for a couple of seconds..“but why you?”

Bob pushes his glasses slightly further up his face. “She loves my glasses.”

He shrugs smugly- his chest puffed with pride and the smile on his face showing he’s so, so happy to have you.

Jake rolls his eyes- “she’s into nerds then.” He walks past him. The comment makes bobs mouth come together in a thin line as he opens his locker and puts his bag in it.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

When he gets to your apartment that night, he almost squeezes the life out of you- his chin in the crook of your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist.

You laugh as you hug him back, your chin going to his shoulder- “someone’s happy to see me.” You lean back. “What’s wrong-” you go to move away but he keeps his arms around your waist.

“Brad punched Jake today..for us.” He mutters as he leans back, moving his hands to your hips.

“What?!” Your hands to his upper chest, letting them rest there. “Why?!”

“Well, Jake was probably being an asshole as usual- but I walked into the locker room and..Jake called me a ‘sister fucker’ I think he said- and Bradley just punches him-”

You cut him off with a small giggle, your head coming to his chest. “Sister fucker..” you mutter, obviously used.

He smiles. “Well, he wasn’t wrong-”

You laugh again and gently hit the side of his chest, loving the way his strong arms move to wrap around you. “Could be my new call sign.” He jokes, making you laugh harder.

He loves your laugh more than anything. He’d do anything to make you laugh for the rest of his life.

And he hopes you’ll eventually give him that chance.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Not a problem at all

Bob reynolds x fem!reader

A/N: I may or may not have started crying during a true crime documentary last night so I wrote this afterwards. Am I on my period....not yet. Anywho please PLEASE comment what pet names you think Bob would use for his girlfriend/partner I've been stumped and just used a bunch of different ones in this. Also I wrote this on my phone so it may not be the best work I've published but I hope you enjoy it anyways :)

Warnings: none? There is very vague talk of true crime documentary but no detail at all and just used as plot and it does talk about reader being on their period but again nothing graphic

Bob was concerned.

However, he believed any boyfriend would be concerned about coming home to find their girlfriend wrapped in several blankets, clenching a stuffed animal, and crying uncontrollable sobs in bed while watching some true crime documentary.

"Um--sweets?" He asked meekly as he walked over to you. "I'M FINE!" You tried to convince him through sniffles and choked sobs you started to fight back. You rubbed your nose and looked up like that would magically stop the tears from falling.

"I swear I'm okay Bobby don't look at me like that." You didn't have to look at him to know he was looking at you very concerned. "Look at you like what I-I mean I'm not even looking at you!" His eyes just scanned the room quickly but fell back to you just as fast. You paused the documentary as he finally looked around to take in the surroundings and everything started piecing together in his head.

His bag of hot Cheetos...empty wrapper of your favorite chocolate...that big bag of Sour Patch Kids he got you... your water bottle is half full...cup of tea that had gone cold.

He did a full scan of you and his suspensions got confirmed seeing you fully. You had not only his oldest, oversized t-shirt on, but you also had a heating pad on high and were holding that stuffed dinosaur he got you like it was your lifeline.

"Oh my darling" he crossed the small space between you and kissed the crown of your head softly. "How are we feeling?" You groaned and pulled him closer to the bed but he stopped himself from falling into the tangled blankets with you. "Hold on sweetheart let me get things ready for you yeah?"

Before he got a response he pulled away even if the whine that left you ripped at his heart. He got undressed and changed into sweats, blushing as you cheered seeing him strip quickly. "Damn Reynolds look at that butt!". He muttered "Can't believe my girl is such a damn heathen" before he cleaned the bed off of the snacks you had gathered throughout the day and collected the cups as well.

"I'm proud you drank water today pretty but I am gonna go get you some more. Gotta keep you hydrated. Did you have a real meal?" He beamed when you nodded but quickly deflated when you mentioned that it was for lunch. "...it's 7:30... at night" he gestures to the window, "the moon is nearly out now." Before you could argue he was already out of the room, he knew you wouldn't argue back if you were comfortable in bed and thankfully you were.

He made the quickest pot of spaghetti he's ever made in his life and refilled your water. He gathered the food and made sure to bring medicine and one of your hydration stick packet things that you've been making him use lately and he headed back to the bedroom...only to find an empty bed. "What the...where'd you go?"

You come very slowly wandering from the bathroom with a pout, "If you've ever loved me before...rip my uterus out." He himself whines like he's in pain, "Come get comfy baby I made spaghetti...and um--I got the pain medicine you said helps the best and one of those drink packs you've been buying." When you complain saying those hydration packs are supposed to be for him he just nods along "Yeah yeah I know and I have one a day like you instructed me to but you need it so no arguing this time missy."

He cringed hearing himself say 'Missy' "Fuck sorry" he didn't even have to look at you to know he was receiving a glare.

You climb back into bed and Bob, this time, follows your movement and gets into bed with you too. Once you've eaten most of the bowl and drank some water he pulled you into him and held you close to his chest. "Wanna tell me about the case you were watching about when I got home?" He held the remote and fidgeted with the buttons as you rambled about the crazy murder case.

You let out a huff "I-I think that's about it. I don't know I started crying about the victims having to go through all that but I can't stop watching it now! I have to know how he got caught." Bob leaned down and kissed your head once more, "Well now you can find out with me, I'll wipe the tears away no problem." You giggled as you laid your head on his chest, thinking he was just being dramatic.

He leaned back and pressed play, warmth filled his chest as you curled into his side. He mumbled to himself, "It's no problem at all"

__-__-__-__-__

If you like my work please let me know! Reblogging, commenting and liking are huge and easy ways to let me know you're enjoying my work and it keeps me motivated to post way more!!! Request are open <3

Also! I have alot of period comfort in the works for both Bucky and Bob so if you'd like to be tagged in those specifically lmk and if you'd like me to write some for Frank or Logan lmk!

Tagging:

@msfirth

@my-name-is-baby

@metalarmsandmanbuns

@live-love-be-unique

@disillusioniary

@you-bloody-shank

@sarcazzzum

@itsjustisa

@qardasngan

@freakyflora

@nishinoyastoes

@jesterghuleh

@zzz000eee

@ginarely-blog

@nubecita040

@murnsondock

@sxbrinajade

@articel1967

@krystalyn7171

@awesompawsum

@jasminerereads

[louiseolivier]

08x06 Delulu

Tevan are at the Italian restaurant. The Hot Waiter flirts with Buck. Buck's kinda oblivious. He unintentionally flirts back. Buck pays this time, and inside the folder with his card and receipt is Hot Waiter's phone number. Buck is a little weirded out because he feels like it's obvious he and Tommy are on a date.

For the most part, Tommy watches Buck and Hot Waiter's interaction in amusement. He jokes whether Buck is he's going to call him, and Buck is taken aback. Then Tommy gets serious.

"We haven't really talked about the kind of relationship you want."

Buck's confused. "What does that mean?"

"Just that there's more than one way to be in a relationship. I've been in a couple that were open."

"Open?"

"We were allowed to sleep with other people."

"I know what it means, Tommy. Is that what you want?"

"I want you to be happy. I want you to know I'm amenable to that if you're interested. Truth be told, Evan, the most important thing is that you're in my life, whether we’re together or not. 

Suddenly, the Ironside siren goes off in Buck’s head, and he’s spiraling.  

Tommy clasps his hand and looks at him like he’s the goddamn sun, moon, and stars. “Think about it. It’s not like it’s something you have to decide today.”

Cue Buck, going to Bobby. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, but I’ve seen you two together. I don’t think breaking up is something Tommy is even thinking about. The other stuff...you should talk to Tommy. Be upfront. Be honest. 

Cue Buck, going to Maddie. “Buck, he kissed you while you were still covered in boils. I saw that with my own eyes and wished I hadn’t. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but he does seem very committed to you. And to be perfectly honest, the open relationship doesn’t sound like something he’d suggest out of thin air. Maybe you said something...”

“You’re blaming me? Come on, Maddie! You know damn well that’s not how I roll. I slept around, yeah, but not while I was in a relationship - and don’t you dare bring up Taylor! Besides, an agreed upon “open” means consensual. I just - how did I miss that this was something he was interested in? Why would he wait six months to bring it up?”

A sound of disgust emanates from the corner of the call center's breakroom, and the Buckley siblings' heads swivel to its location. Josh is sitting at a table, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes. “You sweet naive baby bi.” He gets up from his chair, sidles up to Buck, and eyes the donuts he brought for Maddie. “I don’t suppose there's a Bavarian cream in there?”

“There’s a jelly,” Buck says. 

“But jellies are my favorite,” Maddie complains. 

“Too bad. I’m about to help your chaotic brother out, so I deserve it.” Josh bites into the donut and gives an appreciative moan. “Oh god, I haven’t had refined sugar in three days. How I missed you.”

“Back to me, please,” Buck says with a whine.

“Look, it’s pretty simple. There are only two types of guys who want to open up a relationship after the six-month mark. Assholes carrying multiple red flags or..”

“Tommy’s not an asshole,” Buck tells him firmly. 

“Considering he’d whittle a rocking chair if you asked him to, I’d agree. Buck, my guess is he’s scared. He's worried that if he doesn't give you a free pass, that you'll get bored with him and leave.”

“That’s so stupid,” Buck cries in dismay. 

Maddie lays a supportive hand on his bicep. 

“It is,” Josh agrees. “But just because your man is a solid L.A. nine doesn’t mean he’s not carrying around a lot of insecurities. Talk to him. Tell him. And hey, if it all blows up on you, send him my way. I’d love to be that man’s shoulder to cry on.”

Buck shows up at Tommy’s door. Tommy is supposed to come to his after finishing his laundry, but Buck doesn’t want to wait that long. “Hey,” Tommy greets him with that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” Buck tells him as he barges through the door. 

“Oh-kay,” Tommy says, closing the door behind Buck. 

“Do you want to have sex with other men?”

Tommy crosses his arms, and his head tilts towards the ground. “No. I’ve come to learn that’s not an ideal situation for me.”

Buck scoffs. “Then why suggest it?”

The buzzer on the washer goes off, and Tommy moves towards it to switch out the load. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to you flirting with everyone.”

“You think I flirt?” 

“Evan, you told the waiter you liked his chinos while eyeing his ass. Most of the time, I think it’s cute how you rile people up without realizing it, but then I have a thought like, what if Hot Waiter would be a better match for you? So I panicked and threw out that suggestion.” 

“Jesus, Tommy. For the past six months, my brain has been consumed by nothing but you. Yet you think I can be swayed by some guy in a comfortable pair of pants? I only want you.”

“I know. I do. You prove that to me every day. I didn’t suggest it because I don’t trust you.” Tommy tosses one of Buck’s hoodies into the dryer and starts it. He can’t keep eye contact with Buck for more than a few seconds, and he looks paler than when Buck first arrived. Tommy’s also picking his middle fingernail with his thumb, and that’s Tommy’s tell that he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Uh, so like, I’m in this for the long haul. I think you’re it for me, Evan, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve settled or...”

“I love you,” Buck tells him with a certainty he doesn’t think he felt even eight hours ago, but it’s the god’s honest truth. “Just seeing you makes me feel so full I could combust. ”

Tommy’s eyes are glossy and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He finally locks eyes with Buck. “Loving you has been living in the back of my mind since...I honestly don’t know how long. I’ve been trying to temper my expectations because I haven’t been super successful in relationships. But then you started leaving clothes here, and suddenly you’ve infiltrated my life like no one else has been willing to. Next thing I know, I’m at a funeral for a long dead cowboy. I watched you embrace the memory of a forgotten man, and I realized I couldn’t love you more, Evan. Boils and all.”

Aaaaand that’s it. I’m tapped out.

[yokumirumerafan]

💞✨️HIII💞✨️

That ds reaction for y/n stealin their trinkets to remember em was real cute👁👄👁🌺✨️💞💕

Could you do opposite one? What trinkets would demon slayer characters swindle and what would their overall attitude would be to it? Love ur stuff AAA HAVE A NICE DAYYY✨️💞💗💕💓💗💕

🏮 DEMON SLAYER MEN STEALING Y/N'S TRINKETS 🏮

Hey! I honestly might be too old lol cuz I don't remember making a post like that but here's what you requested <33

"Because love isn’t just about words—it’s about shamelessly stealing your belongings and pretending it never happened. 💖" - Merafan

🔥 HASHIRA EDITION 🔥

🔥 Rengoku Kyojuro – Hair Accessories Enthusiast

100% steals your hair ties, ribbons, or cute hairpins. If you own it, it will mysteriously vanish. And when you ask him? He’s all wide-eyed innocence. "A hairpin? No idea where it went!" (It’s literally in his uniform pocket.)

🌊 Tomioka Giyuu – Sentimental Softie

Steals your scarf or anything soft and comforting. He doesn’t even try to hide it. If you catch him, he just stares at you while gripping it like it’s his last lifeline. "It smells like you." (SIR???) Also, expect him to sew a piece of your haori into his own. 😭💙

💨 Shinazugawa Sanemi – Snack Bandit

Steals your food. Has zero shame about it and will gaslight you if confronted. "Well, you should’ve eaten it faster." BRO. YOU JUST TOOK IT RIGHT OUT OF MY HAND. 😭 Also, he steals everything that’s not rightly placed. Pens? Gone. Feathers? Gone. He'd probably even take chewed-up gum if he saw you spit it out. 💀

☁️ Tokito Muichiro – Absentminded Hoarder

Takes the most random objects. A button? A leaf you once touched? A literal rock? It’s his now. Doesn’t even realize he’s stealing. "Huh? Oh… cool." (Sir, that’s my pen.)

🎭 Uzui Tengen – The Luxury Thief

Steals your jewelry, perfume, and makeup—AND FLAUNTS IT. "This shade looks stunning on me, don’t you think?" 💅 (Also, fun fact: he’s the one who bought it for you.)

💖 Kanroji Mitsuri – The Matching Queen

Doesn’t really steal—instead, she asks you for stuff and then never gives it back. "Can we wear matching socks?!" or straight-up buys matching outfits just to match with you. 💗

🦋 Kocho Shinobu – Hair Clip Thief

If you have cute hair clips? Gone. You wear a new butterfly accessory? Stolen immediately. "Oh, this? I thought you left it for me!" (Ma’am, I just bought that yesterday.)

🗿 Himejima Gyomei – Sentimental Collector

If you make bracelets, necklaces, or anything handmade, he treasures them. Steals them with pure intentions, though. "You put your heart into this creation… It deserves to be cherished." 😭💖

🐍 Iguro Obanai – Weapon Hoarder

Steals your actual weapons. Your katana? Gone. Your knives? Gone. When confronted, he just shrugs. "I couldn’t find mine." (Bro, you have five katanas.) Returns it just so you can use it before he steals it again.

👹 UPPER MOONS & MUZAN EDITION 👹

👑 Muzan Kibutsuji – The Scent Thief

Somehow, he steals your scent. You wear perfume? Suddenly, he smells exactly like you. "Coincidence." (IT’S NOT.)

🎭 Douma – The Makeup Artist

Steals your lipstick. AND USES IT. "Look! Now we match!" 💄💖 Or worse—he steals your entire makeup bag and straight-up cosplays you. 😭

🥊 Akaza – Protective Gremlin

Steals your hand wraps, gloves, or anything combat-related. Then acts smug about it. "You don’t need these, weakling. I’ll keep them safe." (Sir, that’s my favorite pair???) Secretly treasures them like a lovesick puppy.

🔥 Kokushibo – Hairbrush Menace

Steals your brush. Doesn’t even tell you. Just sits in his room, brushing his long ass hair with your brush. Then has the audacity to return it… without cleaning it. 💀

💥 MAIN THREE & GENYA EDITION 💥

🍃 Tanjiro Kamado – The Charm Collector

Steals your earrings, lucky charms, or anything sentimental. "It’s for good luck! 😊" (He’s keeping it forever.) Also, he loves when you make matching bracelets for him. Don’t be surprised if he steals your bobby pins. "They help hold my hair up for training!" (No, you just like having a piece of Y/N with you, Tanjiro.)

⚡ Zenitsu Agatsuma – Pillow & Blanket Thief

Steals your pillow or blanket and refuses to sleep without it. "I CAN’T SLEEP WITHOUT IT, Y/N!!!" (Baby behavior.) Pretends it’s you when you’re not around. "IT’S FOR WHEN YOU’RE GONE!" "Zen, it’s literally a tiny pillow." "IT’S YOU!!!!"

🐗 Inosuke Hashibira – Shoe Snatcher

Steals your shoes. No reason. No explanation. Just runs away with them. And when you take them back, he has the audacity to be offended. "EXCUSE ME? THOSE ARE MINE NOW."

🔫 Genya Shinazugawa – The Awkward Thief

Steals a piece of your uniform/clothing and turns bright red if you catch him. "SHUT UP, IT’S MINE NOW." And then he locks it away like a greedy little dragon hoarding treasure.

CONCLUSION:

They don’t need a reason. They don’t need an excuse. If you own it, it’s theirs now. Deal with it.

[evilpumpkincatz]

thinking…

teen sam’s on a hunt by himself and gets hit by a curse that makes him severely unlucky. he talks with bobby and john, and both tell him to wait it off, that witches cannot be trusted to reverse this one. but weeks of being a klutz and nearly dying is enough to send him over the edge. (plus teen rebellion)

he does his own research first but doesn’t believe it so he goes two towns over to find a witch that’s currently on okayish terms with hunters (rare). she confirms his research and tells him it’s a year of bad luck if he doesn’t do what she tells him to do.

“and what do you want in return?” sam’s hand twitches at the lack of his gun but the witch grins. “i want to watch is all.”

sam makes a disgusted face, “you wanna see me make out with a hot guy?! gross.”

but they have a deal. next full moon, the hottest man sam see’s, he’s gonna hafta lock lips with to get this shitty curse off of him. and some random witch is gonna watch.

*

in comes dean. no one knows his last name, and no one seems to care. all they know is that he’s good on the eyes, an even better fuck, and a badass pool hustler.

he’s on a case right now, but currently, he’s about to get lucky with blonde 1 and blonde 2. maybe even a threesome if they’re up for it.

the night is young.

he knows he’s hot shit so it’s no surprise that he immediately spots a tall little twerp eyeing him throughout the night. dean’s used to the occasional eye fucking, but the kid barely looks a day over 15. and the way he carries himself can only mean he’s a hunter too.

he waits for the brat to muster up some courage and come talk to him but he never does. so dean goes to him. he excuses himself from the ladies and makes a bee line for the kid, who surprise-surprise, makes a run for it.

dean’s eyes glint, he loves a good chase. he tackles the teen outside the bar, and pins him to the dirt and dead grass. “you’ve been eyeing me up all night, what’s it to ya?”

the kid underneath him tried to kick and squirm but dean’s got 50 pounds and a decade of training over him. no chance.

he grunts, “speak.”

the boy nearly whimpers underneath him. “help…i just need your help.”

dean’s having to fight off a boner as the kid keeps squirming. so he asks, “you a hunter, boy?”

the body beneath him nods, “yes, help me.”

dean fully releases his weight on him and hauls him up, kid barely weighs anything. “hunt gone wrong, shocker, what’s your name?”

“sam, sam winchester.”

dean finally gets a good look at sam’s eyes and no doubt about it, his little brother is looking right back at him. 15 years could do little to make him forget. dean feels himself go weak, “what happened, baby?”

sam desperately looks away from dean, embarasssed, and says “it’s a curse, and in order to break it i need you to kiss me.”

dean stays silent so sam adds a weak “please.”

one helluva family reunion this is. dean could rarely, if ever, refuse his brother. “course baby, c’mere.”

he grabs at sam’s face but instead of kissing sam, dean knocks him out cold. the kiss will have to wait. he makes sure sam is okay and hauls him over his shoulder.

dean glances over at the witch hiding behind a tree not far from them and raises his hand in her direction, a threat. he gives her an out and she takes it, vanishing in an instant.

it’s the least he could do for her since she kept her end of the deal and brought sammy back to him.

he slaps sam’s ass and smiles, all giddy and childlike, “let’s get you home, okay sammy?”

(mark of cain dean x younger sam)

so sorry if u read all of this, i’m goin crazy over here

[gatopan2710xx]

WHAT THE SMILING CRITTERS LIKE TO DO IN THEIR FREE TIME WITH THEIR S/O

DOGDAY

• Strangely, it was the one that was the most difficult for me to do, but I feel like he could play with you.

"I bet you 5 waffles you don't catch me!"

Dogday was escaping from his S/O while smiling happily, Shortly after, he rested on a tree and felt a hand touch his back.

"AH! S/O HOW DID YOU FIND ME? I SWORE I HAD HIDDEN WELL!"

Spoiler: you found him because you could see his tail moving from side to side

KICKINCHIKEN

• ok I'm having a hard time thinking of something for Kickin but maybe he could play soccer while trying to get your attention.

"S/O, look at this! Look look!"

Kickin tried to throw the ball into the sky to get it on his head and let the ball bounce off his head bounced but he threw it too hard and ended up making his head hurt.

"OW THAT HURT— DON'T LOOK, DON'T LOOK!!!"

BOBBY BEARHUG

• Bobby hugs you while showering you with praise.

"Muak muak I love you for everything you are and everything you will be in the future!"

Bobby gave you small kisses on your cheeks while hugging you

"I love you so much so SO MUCH!!"

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH

• You two start running around, trying to jump as high as you can or play tag.

"Come on S/O, we must jump higher to reach the moon!"

Hoppy said, jumping with you while you seemed to be about to collapse, they had been jumping non-stop for almost an hour and it was already starting to affect you

"After we reach the moon, we'll eat ice cream! How does that sound?"

CRAFTYCORN

• the two of you draw things you see around the place.

"Huh what are you painting, darling?"

Craftycorn turned around to see your painting of what appeared to be a butterfly on a flower

"My oh my, it looks so pretty but...you missed painting these edges...!"

PICKYPIGGY

• You two go out on a picnic to eat while talking

"And after that I told him to pick on someone his size and it turned out we were the same size!"

Picky said with her mouth full of bitten apple pieces.

"So we fought and I won, oh I forgot to tell you that it also turned out that he was the leader of the kindergarten mafia—"

BUBBA BUBAPHANT

• Maybe at home or in the yard studying, why? Because you two we're bored

"So what is two hundred ninety-four divided by one hundred fifty-two?"

Bubba was teaching his S/O math even though his S/O had an expression of agony and suffering.

"...are you going to respond or...?"

I love writing about this little group💕💕

[mehwmidklpe]

Hiiiiii I’d like to request Elliot x reader where they go to Lexis play and readers her best friend and maybe Elliot’s been cheating on her with Jules and exposes them in her play. Thank you 😊

oh dam.. that's..

Today was the day.

The day of Lexi's play.

Lexi has been your best friend for years now. Of course you were gonna be there. You even helped her with the play.

Just before the play, you were quick to come see her backstage. "And I got you the dress you needed, too." You tell her, grabbing the dress out of your bag.

Your boyfriend, Elliot, stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as your back pressed against his chest.

Lexi smiled at you, giving Elliot a look before speaking to you. "Thank you, Y/n/n."

You saw the hesitant expression on her face. Though you didn't know why she was acting like this. Maybe she was nervous.

"Hey, you're gonna do amazing." You reassure her. She managed a smile. "Thanks.. but.. What if-what if I hurt someone's feelings?"

"Sometimes people need to get their fellings hurt, Lex." The girl shook her head. "Yeah but.. what if that's not the case?" You had to frown.

"If you're worried about Cassie–" "It's not that Y/N." Lexi told told you, shooting anoter a look at Elliot.

"It's just–I want you to know that everything that happens in this play is completely true. But also that I never wanted to hurt anyone, okay?"

You nodded, confused as heck. "Yeah, I know." She took your hands in hers, at which you looked behind you, at Elliot with a frown that he returned.

"Lexi?" But before anyone could say anything else, Bobbi walked in. "We're going up in eight." She announced. Lexi nodded. "I'll be there." She told the girl.

"We should get going before all the seats are taken." Elliot tells you. You nod at that. "Yeah, okay." He took your hand in yours as he lead you out the room.

You shot a quick look at Lexi behind you. "Break a leg!" You said before leaving with your boyfriend.

Sitting with Elliot as you watched Lexi's play was supposed to be nice, but you felt his hand tremble in yours, and he shot a nervous look at Jules every now and then.

"Hey." You wishper to him. "Are you okay?" "Yeah. Don't worry, I'm fine." He assured you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You sure?" You ask again. He nods. "I'm sure.. You know I love you right?"

That was pretty random to say, but I guess it's never a bad moment to say those words.

"I love you too." You respond, leaning your head on his shoulder as you direct your attention on th eplay again.

about like twenty minutes later the play took a different turn.

"My best friend, 'Inaya', was the only actual normal girl out of all of us. She never cared about boyfriends, drugs, alcohol, sex, the way she looked, wheter she got attention or not." Lexi's voice echoed trough the room.

"But then, she met a boy. A boy who was everything she despised yet couldn't help falling madly in love with.. His name was 'Eli'."

You frowned at that, not recalling Lexi having a part in the play about you and Elliot.

You sat up straigh and you both exchanged looks with each other, his frown reflecting yours.

"I had never seen a couple so in love before. Inaya loved Eli. Eli loved Inaya. The two of them looked at each other like they hung the moon and the stars in the air." Lexi continued.

"I really had a feeling they might just make it.. That's why it shocked me so bad that Eli was having an affair Jade's grilfriend; Julia."

The crowed gasped, but they went unnoticed by you. Your heart was beating so loud it was deafning to your ears, your eyes widened slightly at the new information.

"It's just–I want you to know that everything that happens in this play is completely true. But also that I never wanted to hurt anyone, okay?"

Now it all makes sense.

The way Lexi looked at Elliot.

The way Elliot looked at Jules.

The way Elliot acted so nervous lately.

The way Elliot showered you with a lot of love anytime you got alone together lately.

He was cheating on you.

"You're cheating on me?" You wishpered to not draw any attention from the other students, but you're voice had a slight crack in it.

Elliot looked at you, and you could see the pain in his eyes. "Y/n.."

Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up. "I'm just.. gonna go to the restroom for a sec."

"Y/n." But you already left.

As you walked up the stairs to leave, someone grabbed your arm. You looked down to see Rue who was still sitting in her chair.

She got cheated on too, but you had a feeling she already knew.

"Y/n.. are you okay?" Rue asked you, clearly concerned for you. You took a breath, trying not to cry. "Are you?" You ask her, not wanting to talk about your own problems. She nodded.

"Did you know?" You proceed to ask, pain in your tone.

She stayed silent for a bit, and that was all you needed to know. A quiet whimper escaped you. Even Rue didn't tell you.

"Okay." You nodded before taking off.

And it took everything in Lexi to stop herself from jumping off that stage and run after you.

Elliot found you in the restroom.

What he didn't expect was to see you full on crying.

"Y/n.." He walked over to you, his hands wanted to reach out and just hold you close, you stepped back.

"You cheated on me."

"It wasn't like that–"

"With Jules. Fuck I knew I couldn't trust her." You muttered to yourself.

"Y/n, please, it didn't mean anything. Jules doesn't mean anything to me, I can't stand her."

"Oh yeah, you dislike her so much you decided to make out with her behind your girlfriend's back."

"Y/n, you don't understand. None of this was meant to hurt you."

"Well it did, Elliot! It hurts like hell! I trusted you. I trusted you with everything! You were the first person I told all my secrets, you were my first kiss, you were my first–, you were the first boy I've ever–" You cut yourself off with a broken whimper.

"God Elliot, why would you do this to me? Was I–Was I not good enough for you? Not pretty enough? Not open enough? If there was something wrong you could've told me and I would've worked on it. I would've done that for you!"

Elliot shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed. "No, no, Y/n. You're the most perfect person in the world, you don't need to change anything, I love you the way you are, I love you so, so much."

And the worsg thing is was that you knew those words were true..

You gulped, trying to wipe your tears away, failing at that. "We should stop seeing each other." You got out.

It was as if Elliot's world had stopped. "No."

"Yes."

"Y/n please."

"You knew you had this coming when you sucked face with Jules." You spat at him.

"I never wanted to do that." He protested. "But you did! You ruined everything, Elliot!"

Your eyes were filled with tears, and you mentally slapped yourself for feeling like this over a stupid boy.

Elliot gathered his courage together and stepped closer to you, his arms gently wrapping around you, chin resting on your head as he held you while you cried.

"I'm so sorry baby." He kissed your head. "I love you so much." "Than let me go.." You responds. "I can't."

You stepped back. "We can't be together anymore Elliot. The sooner you realize, the better."

The boy couldn't take it. Hearing you say that. Knowing he might lose you. It was frustrating.

"Fucking hell Y/n, I can't do that shit. Can't you see?"

"You did this to yourself."

"No. I didn't. Jules just is a fucking bitch."

"Yeah I know that Elliot. She's the reason I'm breaking up with my boyfriend."

"I don't wanna break up! What do you want me to do? You want me to stop drinking? Fine, done. You want me to stop smoking? Okay, I'll never look at a cigarette again. You want me to stop doing drugs? I will. Here."

He took a little bag of drugs out of his pocket and flushed it down the toilet.

"I'll get clean for you. I'll stay clean for you. I'd do everything for you if you just stay with me." He begged you, desperation clear in his tone.

You shook your head. "You should stay clean for yourself, not for me." "I want to.." Elliot told you.

"Then maybe work on that before you come back to me." You state. "Please don't do this."

You squeezed your eyes shut. "No. Elliot. You can't do that." "I'm not doing anything!" He said in defense.

"Yes you are. You're giving me those eyes cause you know I can't resist them. I–You cheated on me. And I'm not gonna just forget about that because I think you're cute–or-or because I'm in love with you. I just can't."

The curly head tried to step closer to you, but you stepped back. "Tell Lexi I'm sorry for leaving." You instructed.

"I love you." Elliot repeated, but you just walked away.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

We'll make heaven our place on earth

(Sam Winchester x female reader)

Summary Sam and Dean are in heaven, reliving each other’s best memories. This is one of Sam’s, and it’s about you. CWs Episode: Dark side of the moon. Heaven. Fluff. Memories. Love lies in the simple things. Rated Teen. 525 words.

Sam Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

“What is this?” Dean asks, looking around.

He and Sam have been traipsing around each other’s best memories for what feels like an eternity, and it’s becoming difficult to tell whether they’re in Sam’s mind or his.

What Dean does recognize is that they are in Bobby’s cabin, musty books, knickknacks everywhere, but the old hunter isn’t around. Still, that doesn’t tell them whose memory this is - Dean sure has had a few good ones in here, but he can’t place this particular one. Then he whips around, sees Sam is staring straight ahead, and when he follows his brother’s gaze, he knows it’s one of Sam’s.

 The room is empty, except for you. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, one leg tugged up on the chair, a book open in front of you, a cup of steaming coffee next to it. Your face is concentrated while your eyes are scanning the page.

“Sam?” Dean asks, sounding suspicious. “What is this? Cause it sure as hell ain’t one of mine.” Sam is just looking at you. He remembers this day so clearly.

“It’s…” he starts. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Why?” Dean asks, frowning now. “What’s gonna happen?” When Sam doesn’t answer, only keeps looking at you, Dean groans.

“I’m not gonna have to watch you two bone, am I?” he asks, his voice worried.

“Dean,” Sam says, not taking his eyes off you.

“In the kitchen too?” Dean continues, not hearing Sam. “People eat here, man!”

“That’s not—” Sam says, throwing his brother a quick look. “Just—”

You look up then, almost as if you heard them, which they both know isn’t possible. They don’t get to interact with their memories, save what they did during the actual event itself.

Your eyes find Sam, and slowly a smile forms on your face. Dean goes quiet, and Sam just looks at you. Watches your smile, your face. The way your eyes light up. A few seconds later, you look down again, turn the page of the book. Dean raises his eyebrows.

“That’s it?” he asks. Sam chuckles a little to himself.

“Yeah,” he says. Dean shrugs.

“I don’t get it,” he says. Sam sighs.

“It’s when I understood,” he explains, voice a little embarrassed. Seeing his brother’s clueless look, he continues. “That I love her, and that she loves me and that, that it’s real. It just hit me.” He takes a careful look at Dean.

“Yeah, I get it,” Sam adds with the tone of the eternally suffering younger sibling. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, right?” To Sam’s surprise, Dean’s features soften.

“No, it’s…” Dean starts. He shrugs again.

“It’s nice, man,” he finally continues. “I’m happy for you.” Then he slaps Sam’s arm, signalling they should keep moving. “And at least that means you didn’t do it in the kitchen.”

Sam’s not quick enough to hide the very telling expression on his face. Dean’s smile falls.

“Come on!” he yells, then turns and walks into the next room.

Sam looks back at you, just for one second. He knows no matter for how long he looks, it would never be enough.