#i carry this small notepad with me EVERYWHERE
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Hospital Beds - a Hawks x fem!doctor!reader One Shot
Summary: Hawks heals more than his wings after the Paranormal Liberation War attacks [wc: 4.6k].
Warnings: mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of character death, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, fluff, comfort, potentially unpopular Hawks opinions. characters slightly aged up.
a/n: started writing thinking this was gonna be cute and flirty, ended up taking a kind of serious turn (still otherwise cute and flirty with happy-ish ending). might do a spicier part 2 at some point. as always, don’t be a ghost reader pls and ty <3
Hawks’ eyes were focused on the window, lost in thought. There was a crowd gathered outside Central Hospital. From the muffled voices through the glass, it didn’t sound like they were there for support. He felt the span of his back against the hospital bed, a sensation both foreign and grounding. The space where his wings once were stung slightly at the contact, despite the heavy nerve blockers he assumed were administered earlier.
“Back again so soon?”
You broke him from his trance as you shut the door behind you. Your eyes immediately scanned his monitors, a pleasant smile never leaving your face.
“At some point, we really do have to get your heart rate checked out.”
He didn’t actually have a high heart rate. But the machines he was hooked up to always went crazy whenever he got sight of you. He was too embarrassed to say anything, though he wondered if you noticed why his charts never reflected any underlying conditions when his vitals were checked by others.
“You’re not a very good patient, you know. Though now that you can’t talk, perhaps you’ll actually listen.”
He tried to respond, but quickly remembered he couldn’t open his jaw, not very much at least. No sound came out of the small gap between his lips.
You had treated Hawks on several occasions now, usually after incidents involving fire. Most were minor. He’d come in and joke that he’d done it on purpose to see you. You’d roll your eyes, every now and then you’d even dignify him with an actual response: ‘nice try’. But his injuries now were unlike anything you’d ever seen. You knew it was bad when he didn’t try flirting with you. Then again, it’s not like he could even if he wanted to.
Your tone was light and breezy, but the furrow in your brow betrayed your façade.
“I’m only joking, of course. But in all seriousness, your trachea was severely damaged from the smoke inhalation during the attack. Fortunately you narrowly avoided respiratory failure, but you won’t be able to use your voice for a couple of weeks. Lucky for you, technology has advanced enough that you won’t have to carry around a notepad everywhere you go. We recommend using the voice app on your phone.”
You handed him his cell phone, when Hawks noticed a plastic bag of personal items behind you with unknown origins. You followed his eyes to see what was distracting him.
“Oh yes, a young man named Tokoyami brought you a change of clothes and some other things you may need while you were out. Said he was your mentee.” You paused, searching for some kind of reaction. You thought it might brighten his spirits. His eyes widened somewhat, but there was still no smile. “It’s clear you’ve had a big impact on him.”
Tokoyami. His mentee. A child. More memories of the battlefield came flooding back. Twice. Dabi. He knew you hoped that bringing up his pupil would put him at ease. But Hawks was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt that he had put the student is such a dangerous situation.
“I also spoke with Dermatology. They informed me that sixteen percent of your body is covered with third degree burns, another twenty percent second degree, and twenty-two percent first degree. Given the severity and location of the burns, you’re also at risk of developing contractures that could compress your airways in the future so we’ll need to keep a close eye on that. Once your wraps come off, they’ve prescribed you a topical treatment that you’re to use three times a day until everything is healed. You’ll also be started on an oral antibiotic immediately, which you’re to take for three weeks.”
He attempted to use his new voice.
“What about wings?” You took a deep breath. Not good.
“I’m getting to that. I’m going to adjust your bed a little first. Are you able to lean forward?” He nodded as the bed rose up and the angle of his back moved more upright. He winced, unable to hide his discomfort but did as you instructed.
“I’m sorry, I know this is painful for you. I’m going as quickly as I can.” You talked through how you were examining his dressings, that his biggest risk at the moment was that the wounds would get infected, and that the dressings would need to be changed again before the end of the day.
“I think they will grow back. But it will be painful and it will be slow. You must be patient during this time and you’ll have to stay out of the field for a while. I’d recommend taking a well-deserved break until they’re fully healed.”
Bedrest sounded like Hawks’ personal hell. He only nodded his head. He didn’t have the energy to protest.
“You’ll also need to go through a psychiatric evaluation before rejoining field.”
Hawks let out a muffled groan. You let out an exasperated laugh.
“Really, you didn’t make a peep when I was examining your open wounds but you draw the line at psych eval?” You watched as he typed out his next thought.
“Waste of time.” Your eyes softened.
“First of all, this is standard procedure. Endeavor, Mirko, Eraserhead, all those UA students are going to have to get one too. Second, even if it wasn’t, what you – what you’ve all gone through would cause even the strongest soldier some kind of stress. We want to make sure that you’re all in the right headspace so that you’re the most prepared you can be going against whatever this enemy is. You have to take care of yourself first before you can take care of others.”
Hawks sat there a moment in silence, absorbing your words. Wondering whether you would be so sympathetic and kind if you knew the truth. He began typing.
“I killed someone,” the unnatural voice said. It came from him, but it didn’t feel like him. It echoed against the walls of the sterile room, void of emotion.
You pulled a chair next to his bed so that you were slightly below his eye level.
“I heard. That must be a lot to carry.”
“You hate me.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m a bad person.”
“You’re not.” You paused, choosing your next words carefully for the fragile hero. “I don’t know what your world is like. I wasn’t there so I don’t know exactly what happened. But I do know that we are both in the business of saving lives, albeit in different ways. My guess is you made a split second decision on what was in the mission’s best interest to save the lives of your colleagues and ultimately the lives of civilians. Nobody has a crystal ball to know whether that was the best or right choice. But it was a life or death situation, and you did the best you could in the moment. It’s natural to feel remorse and guilt, but you can’t let it debilitate you for the rest of your life either.”
What right did you have to comment on such things?
“You’ve never killed someone,” he countered.
“I have. In my OR. There are some people that can’t be saved, no matter how hard you try.”
“I think he was a good person,” he typed, wondering if that negated everything you just said.
“Good people do bad things all the time. It doesn’t make them bad people.” He sighed, swallowing the searing pain as harsh air passed through his lungs. You watched closely as the hero studied his bandaged hands, refusing to make eye contact. “For now, the best thing you can do for yourself and Japan is rest. We need you.”
He sat with your words. It didn’t dawn on him until long after you left the room that you weren’t just talking about Twice.
-
As you warned, the days passed at a glacial pace. He didn’t enjoy how quickly he acclimated to talking through his phone. He had growing pains from the nubs of his wings that began to poke through his skin. Each day brought a revolving door of doctors and healers and other specialists, by whom he was constantly poked and prodded and observed. Hawks hated every minute of it. Almost every minute.
You came in daily to monitor the progress of his wings. It was the most painful part of his recovery. But you entered his room with a smile and sunny disposition, like you weren’t about to inflict torture on him for thirty minutes. The air hurt his exposed back when you removed the old bandages. It stung when you applied antiseptic to cleanse the area. It felt like he was going to pass out when you ran your gloved fingers along the growth that was coming in. He felt all the more pathetic laying on his stomach as you did your work.
But you did your best to distract him with bad jokes and hospital gossip. Not that you had to put in that much effort. Your presence was distracting enough.
On the fourth day after the battle, you finally got a chuckle out him. What’s black and white and black and white and black and white? He shrugged as you applied ointment. A penguin falling down the stairs. You quickly realized that your methods may have been faulty as his laugh devolved into a coughing fit, his lungs still weak.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Try to remember your box breathing.”
He held his breath at the top of his inhale. Four, three, two, one. Exhale. Four, three, two, one. He repeated this for a minute before his breath finally returned to normal. He gave a thumbs up. I’m ok.
Relief washed over your face. “I’m sorry I made you choke on air. But glad to see you in better spirits today.” He began typing.
“I’m always in good spirits when you’re around.” You bit back a smile no one could see as you started redressing the incoming wings.
“Ah, there he is. Yeah, you’re definitely starting to feel better.”
“Can’t you tell? I’m the pinnacle of health.” The gallows humor was hard to miss despite the monotone robotic voice, the statement in stark contrast to his fully bandaged and hospitalized body.
“You will be, soon enough.” You finished applying new bandages. “That’s it for me today, unless there’s anything else you want to share.”
“Capricorn. 27. Single –“
“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” You pulled off your disposable gloves, turning to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “I already knew that from your chart. Nice try,” you teased.
“Didn’t know you were stalking me.”
“Goodbye Hawks, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You knew your faux sternness was hardly believable, as you caught him wink before you closed the door.
-
Two days later you bumped into Hawks and Best Jeanist in the hallway. You broke into a wide grin when you noticed the two heroes, pleasantly surprised to see just how much progress your patient had made in such a short time.
“Good morning gentlemen.”
“Good morning Dr. y/l/n,” Best Jeanist said with a small bow. Hawks was visibly confused about his formality.
“Please, there’s no need for that. It’s just good to see you back in the land of the living.” Best Jeanist helped fill in the gaps for his perplexed cohort.
“Hawks, Dr. y/l/n was part of the team who developed the drugs to put me in a temporary death-like state to convince Dabi that you’d killed me. We can thank her for setting us up for success to get you undercover.” Hawks knew he missed out on a lot during his covert mission, but had no idea how many parties were involved outside the ordinary network of hero agencies and the Commission. You blushed at the praise.
“It was nothing, really. You guys are the ones doing all the hard work.”
“Truly, we are in your debt,” Best Jeanist piled on. You weren’t used to so much flattery and you had a job to do so you tried to end the conversation.
“Anyways, I have to get to my next patient. Jeanist, keep an eye on your partner. It’s good for him to walk around a little bit but make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”
“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He gave another bow.
“I’m right here,” Hawks typed, unamused by the turn of the exchange.
“I’ll see you in a few hours, Hawks,” you yelled over your shoulder before disappearing down the next corridor.
The session later that day was nothing out of the ordinary. The nubs sprouting from his back had formed into tiny but well-defined wings and he was able to sit up during exams as opposed to lying face down on the hospital bed. All signs of positive progress.
He watched wistfully as you documented your observations, swaying his legs off the side of the bed like a child.
“They’re coming in quite nicely, I’m really happy with where you’re at.”
“Great what do I need to sign to get out of here?”
“Ahhh not so fast. You have to stay at least another two days and even once you’re discharged, you most certainly are not ready to return to active duty.” He pouted underneath his respirator mask.
“You’re no fun.”
“Sorry, just doing my job.” You proceeded to check his other vitals before heading out. First you took off his mask to check his lymph nodes, pressing your fingers firmly against the outer side of his jaw, moving down his neck. He was acutely aware of the lone thin layer of latex that separated you. He couldn’t stop the warmth that crept up his face, thankful that most of it was still covered. His flushed cheeks may have been under wraps, but he couldn’t hide his quickened pulse from you. You put on your stethoscope and instructed him to breathe deeply a few times, the cold metal circle moving from his upper back, to lower back, to his chest.
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Your lungs are sounding better but your heart’s beating like crazy.”
He feigned surprise, which was much easier when he didn’t have to control his own voice. “Really? That’s odd, no one else’s said anything.”
You pulled up his chart again to check the inputs of all the other practitioners who’ve treated the hero since his arrival at Central Hospital. All values normal.
“On a scale from one to ten, how much pain are you in at this point?”
“Two or three.”
“Are you feeling nervous about anything?” He chewed his lower lip trying to think of a way to get out of this, knowing that if he said no you would run more tests which would be unnecessary and prolong his stay.
“Yes,” he lied. Kind of. He actually was a little nervous, though definitely not for the reason you likely thought. You brought your chair next to his bed again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” A loaded question.
“No.” The good thing about talking through his phone and the mask was that he could get away with saying less. Sympathetic people tended to not ask follow up questions.
“Okay. Well, you know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.” You spoke slowly, your reassuring voice laced with uncertainty. It was difficult to get a read on him when you couldn’t hear the tone of his voice or see his face. “Do you have any questions?” He nodded.
“Will you go on a date with me?” You almost choked on your own saliva. You blushed, but forced yourself to remain stoic.
“I’m very flattered, but there are strict protocols against physician-patient relationships.” Your stern message was undercut by your stammering, high pitched squeak.
“What if I promise to never get hurt again?” You tried not to smile, knowing it would only egg him on. You were failing.
“You shouldn’t be making promises you can’t keep.”
“What if I find a different doc?”
“You’ve gotten awfully good at talking through your phone,” you muttered under your breath.
“Can’t hear you.” Despite his mostly covered face, you could tell from the crinkle around his eyes that he was enjoying every moment of this interrogation.
“I-I’d have to take it up with the Board of Ethics.”
“That’s not a no.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Can I say one more thing?” You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever nonsense he was about to spew.
“I’d rather you didn’t but legally I think I have to say yes.” You watched as his thumbs frantically moved over the keyboard.
“Thank you for taking care of Best Jeanist. This operation wouldn’t’ve gotten so far without him or you.”
“Oh.” Your felt your heartbeat in your throat. “Again, just doing my job. Glad I could help.” You fiddled with some papers. “Let’s try this one more time. Do you have any other questions… about your health.”
Hawks shook his head, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Despite the fact that you wanted to scold him for the bizarre interaction, you were reassured by his pleasant disposition, one you hadn’t seen since he arrived.
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
-
Tomorrow rolled around but you entered an empty sterile room, bed ready for a new patient. After a few seconds your confusion passed and you saw red.
You stormed down the hall in search for any hospital staff, until a poor resident had the unfortunate luck of being in your path.
“Where the hell is my patient?”
“I-I’m sorry?”
“Room 3409. Yesterday my patient was there and today the room is empty. He wasn’t ready to be discharged so where is he?”
“I-I-I don’t know ma’am, I’m sorry.”
“Dr. y/l/n, this is a hospital, not wrestlemania if you could keep it down please. And stop traumatizing the junior residents.” Hawks’ pulmonologist emerged from his office and tried to placate you. You glowered at the first young doctor as he silently excused himself from the conversation that was definitely beyond his paygrade.
“Please tell me he got moved to a different wing.”
“I’m afraid not.” He spoke again before you could let out another outburst. “I warned him of the risks of a premature discharge, to which he insisted he was feeling fine and that those were risks he was willing to take. I had him fill out some paper work and a consent form and he left this morning.” Your nostrils flared as you silently seethed.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you. Oh, and one more thing…” The doctor took a deep breath before proceeding, worried he may end up the subject of your wrath. “This is probably terrible timing, but – he requested to take you off his care team,” your eyes widened “…and should he be re-hospitalized that you not be involved.”
“WHAT?” You continued mumbling a string of profanities under your breath. The doctor continued slowly and calmly.
“He made it very clear it had nothing to do with the quality of care he received from you. But he uh, mentioned something about a potential conflict of interest.” He took a step back as you burned an imaginary hole through his head with your retinas. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I do not want to know any more information about this.”
“There is no more information about it because it doesn’t exist!” You wanted to scream. “Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck this hospital. I’msosorryItakethoselasttwoback.” You stomped your foot down like a petulant child before storming off. “FUCK!”
-
By the next day you had cooled off, that is, until you saw Hawks loitering outside Endeavor’s room as you were making your rounds.
“YOU!” you boomed. Hawks’ excitement to see you was quickly replaced with fear as you approached and you were close enough that he could see the rage steaming off you.
“Hey doc,” he said sheepishly.
“Don’t you ‘hey doc’ me.” You were very close to his face. He was sure he would’ve felt your breath if he didn’t have the stupid respirator mask on. For a split second he thought about taking it off but realized that would only further enrage you. “What the hell were you thinking?”
He began typing but you swatted his hand before he could answer. “Ow.”
“And you –“ Best Jeanist would be the next recipient of your verbal lashings. “You said you would keep an eye on him. Liar.”
Hawks had never seen his colleague scared before, but there was a first for everything.
“He just wanted to come for a ride-along, I promise he stayed in the car the whole time!”
“I have never been more disappointed,” you said in a low voice. Best Jeanists bowed.
“I am very ashamed and deeply regret my actions. I am sorry.” That seemed to pacify you momentarily. You returned your wrath to Hawks.
“I told you you’re not ready to return to the field. And now I hear you’re refusing to receive treatment from me? I cannot explain to you how embarrassed and insulted I am.” You allowed him time to type this time as Best Jeanist stood there as witness, desperately wishing for the floor to open below and swallow him whole.
“You’re right. I’m not ready. But this enemy is moving too quickly, time is of the essence. I’m in good enough shape that I can help off the field. I’m sorry I went against your professional judgement.” You continued to glare at him with pursed lips.
“And?”
“And I was being proactive. I’m taking you on that date.” Your face flushed immediately while the avian hero somehow remained shameless. You did your best to maintain your composure.
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise.” You crossed your arms defensively.
“After a stunt like this, I wouldn’t be so sure. Plus, since you’ve already taken it upon yourself to be discharged I’m not sure why you’re even here.”
“Now that we know about the Todoroki family connection to Dabi, we need to gather intel. Also need to consolidate info from those at the Jaku Hospital attack. Off-field work, if you will.” Your eyes narrowed, only to be met with undeterred playful golden irises.
“Fine, I’ll allow it. But I feel the need to make it known that I’m not happy about it.” The injured hero smiled again.
“Thanks, doc.”
“Again, our sincerest apologies for the mishap.” Best Jeanist did his best to make up for his companion’s clear lack of repentance.
You only gave the heroes a parting glare as you walked away.
The rest of the day passed, otherwise uneventful but long and exhausting. You kept a professional and pleasant face for the benefit of your patients, but it was getting hard to maintain after all you’d seen in the last seven days since the attacks. Yes, there were cases of miraculous recoveries in the face of overwhelming trauma. But far more frequent were lives that were forever altered by all that had transpired, not just for patients themselves but all the other souls connected to those individuals. The hospital was at capacity, and each bed represented not just one person but a web of lives that now had to face a new crippling reality. If you thought about it too much you could cry – which you did, in the nearest break room or supply closet if had even just two minutes between appointments. Thus, your favorite part of the day became doing paperwork in your office at the end of your shift. It was methodical and soothing, and allowed you to disassociate.
It was at that moment when you were enjoying your oasis that an intern rushed into your office, disturbing your peace.
“There’s an emergency on the top floor, you need to come quick.” You immediately got up and followed her down the hall and up the elevator, asking clarifying questions about the situation.
But when you entered the room in question, all you saw was a picnic blanket on the hospital bed, two champagne flutes, a bottle, and the number two hero. The intern shrank in the doorway.
“I’m really sorry, he said he would send me a bunch of merch if I could get you here.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” You rubbed your temples, hoping it would transport you to another dimension where you never went to medical school and thus would not be here. “You are not to accept a single thing from him, do you understand?” The intern nodded aggressively. “Now go, I’m sure you have better places to be, ideally with a patient who actually needs help.” The intern scurried away without another word.
“And you,” now turning to Hawks. “Bribing medical professionals? Super illegal.”
“Sorry.” His mischievous eyes said otherwise, clearly undeterred by your scolding. You scoffed.
“No you’re not.” He shrugged. You took a closer look at the set up. “Seems kinda wasteful, doesn’t it? You can’t even drink.”
He turned the bottle to show the label. Sparkling nonalcoholic cider. The corners of your lips tugged upwards, threatening to betray your steely exterior.
Any semblance of a smile quickly vanished, however, when he removed his respirator mask.
“What are you –“ He spoke before you could protest or before he lost his nerves.
“I’m going to be gone for a really long time after today. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if I’ll be back.” He cautiously grabbed your hands. “Regardless of which it is, I really want to make sure I don’t break any promises.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when he paused. You suddenly found it hard to keep eye contact.
“This is a hospital, not the Make A Wish Foundation.” Despite your icy response, you made no effort to pull your hands away from him. He gently rolled his thumb over your knuckles, trying to memorize every ridge and crease.
Most of his face was still covered in bandages, but you liked that you could now see how his lips curved into a lopsided smirk, punctuated by laugh lines that formed around the corners of his mouth. You liked knowing that you were responsible for it. Your mind concocted imaginary circumstances of other things you could do to get him to make the same perfect expression. Your eyes lifted to meet his when you were done daydreaming.
“I thought they were one in the same.” He was insufferable. His arms fell to his sides when you separated yourself from him. For a moment he almost looked like the defeated shell of himself that was in your care a week ago. But it was quickly washed with relief when he saw you grab the bottle.
“You are the worst patient I’ve ever had.” A satisfying *pop* echoed in the room. He knew your words were hallow, as your acquiescence was rewarded with the hero’s bright eyes and heartfelt smile that made your heart beat in time with the little bubbles that evaporated around you. You handed him a glass of cider, his fingers ghosting over yours as he took the flute from you that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not your patient anymore.”
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Breaking Character pt11/13
Summary: You are the new cast member of 'The Boys' and you play Butcher's cousin and Soldier Boy's new love interest 'Solene'. You're introduced to the cast by the director at a dinner and you're seated next to Karl and Jensen to "bond".
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, 18+, KINKS

The living room was alive with laughter as the cast huddled around the coffee table, snacks strewn everywhere, and a heated game of Pictionary underway. Jack was furiously scribbling on the notepad, his tongue sticking out in concentration, while Erin and Antony shouted wildly incorrect guesses.
“Is it...a car?” Erin yelled.
Jack groaned. “Does this look like a car?!”
“Maybe a horse?” Antony guessed, squinting at the mess of lines on the paper.
“It’s obviously a toaster,” Karl said with a straight face, making the rest of us dissolve into giggles.
Jensen sat beside me on the couch, his arm slung comfortably around my shoulders. He was terrible at hiding his amusement, his chest rumbling with soft laughter. I leaned into him, feeling that warm, easy comfort that only he could provide.
“You’re not even trying to help,” he teased, nudging me gently.
“Because this is too much fun to watch,” I replied, grinning up at him.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered with a smirk, pressing a kiss to my temple.
The moment felt perfect. The room was filled with the kind of joy that made everything else fade away—the drama, the stress, all of it.
But then my mind wandered, unbidden, to a conversation Jensen and I had just days ago.
-
“I’m done, Jensen,” I had said, pacing the length of our hotel room.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a calm that only made my frustration grow. “Done with what?”
“My manager,” I snapped, spinning to face him. “I’m done with the constant criticism, the pressure, the...the bullshit.”
He stood and walked over to me, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. “You don’t have to put up with that, Y/N.”
“I know,” I said, my voice softening. “That’s why I’m firing him.”
Jensen’s lips quirked into a small, proud smile. “About damn time.”
“I just...” I hesitated, glancing down. “What if it backfires? What if—”
“No.” His voice was firm, cutting through my doubts. “You’re not doing anything wrong. If someone in your corner isn’t supporting you, they don’t deserve to be there. Period.”
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is,” he said, cupping my face in his hands. “You deserve better, and if firing that asshole is what it takes, then do it. I’ll be here no matter what.”
-
“Earth to Y/N!” Erin’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Huh?” I blinked, realizing everyone was staring at me.
“It’s your turn!” she said, holding out the notepad and pen.
Jensen chuckled, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Good luck, sweetheart.”
I groaned but took the pen, determined to draw something only slightly better than Jack’s unrecognizable toaster—or horse, or whatever it was.
The night carried on in the same playful, lighthearted spirit, the memory of my decision to fire my manager leaving me with a quiet sense of empowerment. For the first time in a long time, I felt free.
The house was still and quiet as we stepped inside, the only sound the faint click of the door locking behind us. Jensen turned to look at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tossed his keys onto the counter, his movements unhurried but deliberate.
“Feels weird without the kids here, huh?” I said, kicking off my shoes and letting out a long sigh as I sank onto the couch.
“A little,” he admitted, his voice low and easy, “but I’m not complaining.”
He crossed the room toward me, his strides purposeful. His eyes had that familiar gleam, the one that always made my heart race. When he reached me, he crouched in front of the couch, his hands resting on my knees.
“You’re too far away,” he murmured, his voice tinged with mischief.
“I’m right here,” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady, but his touch had me unraveling already.
“Not close enough,” he countered, slipping his hands under mine and tugging me gently forward until I was perched on the edge of the couch, our faces just inches apart.
He kissed me then, slow and deep, one hand sliding to the back of my neck while the other rested on my thigh. There was nothing hurried about it—just the deliberate, intoxicating way he always made me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
I laughed softly, my hands curling into the front of his shirt. “You’ve mentioned it a few times.”
“I don’t say it enough,” he said, his tone turning serious as his fingers traced idle patterns on my leg. “You’re everything to me.”
The intensity in his words had my chest tightening, my throat threatening to close up with the weight of emotion.
“Jensen…” I started, but his name barely made it past my lips before his hands began to wander.
Jensen leaned back, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch, but his eyes were anything but casual. They were filled with a mix of desire and mischief as he watched you, his gaze lingering on your chest.
“You know,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “I’ve always had a thing for… well, let’s just say I appreciate a good pair.”
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. “Is that so? What do you appreciate about them?”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. “Everything. The way they look, the way they feel… and the way they drive me absolutely wild.”
You felt a rush of heat at his words, your heart racing. “Maybe I should give you a better view then,” you suggested, your voice playful yet inviting.
Jensen’s eyes darkened with desire as you slowly lifted your shirt, revealing your bare skin. His breath hitched, and you could see the hunger in his gaze as he took in the sight of you.
“Damn,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. “You’re stunning.”
He shifted closer, his hands finding your waist, fingers brushing against your skin as he pulled you toward him. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and it sent shivers down your spine.
“Can I?” he asked, his eyes flicking to your chest, a mix of eagerness and respect in his gaze.
“Please,” you whispered, your heart racing with anticipation.
With a swift motion, he leaned down, his mouth capturing one of your breasts. His tongue swirled around your nipple, and a moan escaped your lips as pleasure coursed through you. Jensen’s hands roamed, squeezing and kneading your other breast, his touch firm yet gentle.
“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on you. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this moment of pure bliss.
“Jensen,” you gasped, the sensation overwhelming. “I need more.”
He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. “You got it, babe.”
With that, he shifted, positioning you so that you were lying back against the couch, your body arching toward him. He took a moment to admire you, his gaze filled with hunger. Then, he leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that you never wanted to extinguish.
As he kissed you, his hands continued to explore, tracing the curves of your body, his fingers brushing against your breasts, teasing and tantalizing. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him closer.
“Jensen,” you breathed, your voice a mix of urgency and desire. “I want you.”
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Are you sure?”
You nodded, your heart racing. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
With a wicked grin, he leaned back down, his mouth capturing your breast once more, his tongue flicking and teasing as he lost himself in the moment. You could feel the heat building between you, the world outside forgotten as you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you.
Jensen’s mouth moved with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. He lavished attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling and teasing, while his hands explored the curves of your body. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, a desperate need building within you.
“Jensen,” you gasped, arching your back as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. “I need you… please.”
He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire, a smirk playing on his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re driving me insane.”
With that, he shifted his position, kneeling on the couch beside you. He took a moment to admire you, his gaze roaming over your body, drinking in every curve. You felt exposed yet empowered under his scrutiny, the heat of his gaze igniting a fire within you.
“Let me show you just how much I appreciate you,” he said, his voice thick with lust.
He leaned down, his mouth trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them apart. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat as he settled between your legs, his eyes locking onto yours.
“Jensen,” you breathed, your heart racing with anticipation.
He didn’t respond with words; instead, he leaned in, his mouth finding the sensitive skin between your thighs. A moan escaped your lips as his tongue flicked against you, teasing and exploring. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured against you, his breath hot against your skin.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him closer as he continued to work his magic. He was relentless, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, the pressure mounting as he expertly brought you closer and closer to the brink.
“Jensen, I’m so close,” you gasped, your body trembling with need.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “I want to feel you come for me,” he said, his voice low and sultry.
With renewed vigor, he focused on your clit, his tongue flicking and teasing in a way that sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body arching as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.
As you came down from your high, Jensen crawled back up your body, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, and it only fueled the fire within you.
“Now, it’s my turn,” he said, his voice thick with desire as he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his chiseled chest. You couldn’t help but admire him, your hands roaming over his body, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingertips.
He leaned down, capturing your lips once more, his hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself between your legs. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension building as he pressed against you.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with need.
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes, Jensen. I want you.”
With a primal growl, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. A moan escaped your lips as you felt him stretch you, the sensation overwhelming. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his eyes locked onto yours.
“God, you feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, but the urgency quickly built as he lost himself in the moment. You could feel every inch of him, the heat and intensity building with each thrust.
“Jensen,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as he picked up the pace. “Harder… please.”
He obliged, his thrusts becoming more frantic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You could feel the heat pooling in your core once more, the pressure building as he drove you closer to the edge.
“Let go for me,” he urged, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to feel you come around me.”
With a final thrust, you felt the wave of pleasure crash over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name. Jensen followed closely behind, his thrusts becoming erratic as he found his release, filling you completely.
As you both came down from your highs, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the afterglow wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.
“Damn,” he said, satisfied.
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A/N: Hey you guys, I'm back, I hope you guys had fun during the holidays, idk if I'm back to posting regularly but I can try.
@justwhisperingfantasies @impala67rollingthroughtown @deansimpalababy @jackles010378 @winchester @barnes70stark @nancymcl @oceean @spnaquakindgdom @ladysparkles78 @sexyvixen7 @spxideyver @stoneyggirl2 @star-yawnznn @quietgirll75 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing
#jensen fucking ackles#jensen x reader#jensen ackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#the boys#karl urban#soldier boy#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester
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Headcanons for Marigold
Mia Fey was working on a scrapbook with pictures of Maya (it’s got her baby pictures and stuff). After she died, Maya took it and tries to keep it going, and when Godot gets out of jail, Maya let’s him have it.
Marigold carries her mother’s magatama everywhere, though she doesn’t always wear it
Godot teaches Marigold to speak Spanish
Marigold becomes a defense attorney when she grows up,
If she somehow met Sadie Mae and the gang, she would be good friends with them
Personality wise: child Marigold is a rather quiet kid, having a rather shy disposition. But when it counts she’ll go from 0-100
Fun facts about Adult Marigold
She has a fascination with poetry (when she’s particularly cocky she’s speak in haikus) [she has fixation on metaphors like her dad]
She’s graceful. Shes like an elegant princess, like princess Diana
Like princess Diana, she’s the people’s princess, as she is very caring and sweet and cares a lot for other people (like her mom she wants to believe in and defend people)
She can be a bit full of herself (she knows she’s a girlboss like her mama and she’s a bit cocky like her dad) She also knows she’s hot, and that she can get it and wears it on her sleeve a bit
Like a princess she’ll have a vibe of, oh all the commoners want me, but they can’t have me or be me. Fufufu
She knows she’s that bitch, but she’s not a bitch, you feel me?
She knows she’s just the most perfect young girl (her daddy told her so himself, plus I heard, mommy thought so too so 🥰)
I think it's possible that during visits to the prison, Godot would teach Marigold her next Spanish lesson lol. If the prison's fine with it, she could bring her Spanish textbooks and the like, or simply a notepad and paper and write down a few things. That's also sweet that Godot gets to look through the scrapbook and see Marigold's baby pictures and Mia's family. It's almost enough to make him feel that Mia was there with him. And he catches up on Marigold's history. She was a cute baby. Has her mother's smile. And Maya tells him all these stories of when Marigold was growing up back when Mia was still alive. And considering that Godot said that he had nothing else to live for when he lost Mia and everything else, well, now he has quite a big something to live for, doesn't he?
Why does Marigold aspire to become a defense attorney? Runs in the family? It'd also be cute if Auntie Maya gave Marigold a locket with a small picture of her mother inside, so Marigold can still know what her mom looked like. She has no idea about the father, however.
Awww, but considering that she's shy, it would be cute if she got all shy and clammed up when first learning Spanish from Godot. But learning from him has built up her confidence. And during these sessions, he introduces her to the beautiful world of metaphors, and when they're apart, they write letters back and forth with a little bit of poetry here and there, and that's when Marigold practices haikus.
Since she's gonna be a defense attorney, she needs a rival to put her into her place from time to time. Who is that rival prosecutor?
It sounds like she's really loved and she knows it, which is awesome given the circumstances behind her parents. Even when Godot was in jail, Marigold still had Pearl and Maya and Feenie. And when Godot is out of jail, she visits him regularly, checking up and catching up. She'd hate for him to feel lonely.
#marigold fey#godot ace attorney#prosecutor godot#godot#diego armando#ace attorney#ace attorney oc#not my oc#oc#oreocookiezzz#asks#lady k answers
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