#i will take any and all excuse to draw sof

[n4rval]

i love the way you draw gaster, hes so shaped and huggable

How To Care For A Human

Chapter 1 - Humans are obsessed with anything soft. To lure in a human, find a really big teddy bear or a warm blanket and place it in a safe, secluded area.

[saltyartificialintelligence]

Vent

fuck fuck fuck fuck i fucking hate feeling like this oh my god

i have so much homework due next monday because we're on "break" but were not even on break as uni exam year students we still go to school regularly but everyone used it all as an excuse to give us hundreds of papers of homework like we have all the time in the world im going to fucking cry we still go to school and i know im not gonna be able to finish it but i cant even bring myself to do it bc im sof ucking exhausted all the time lately and i dont even know why my life went downhill so quickly and i feel like eveything is out of order now and i dont even know how to fix it why did things end up like this i dont know what to do i cant cry to my parents because they never take me seriously i cant cry to my sister because shes just going to make fun of me i dont want to cry to my friends because they have their own lives to worry about and i cant just burden them with mine like this,,

i constantly feel like an alien trying to communicate with my classmates at school,, since my friends all left to different schoolslast year and im stuck all alone and im trying to make new friends but i constantly feel like an outsider,,, i feel like thyere all what a person is supposed to be but im deranged,,, they all have their lives in order and im typing away on this hellsite because im so overwhelmed i want to cry,,,

my mock exam results were garbage and im not even able to do my math homework its the one thing i thought i was good at and now i cant even manage that

I dont have time to draw i dont have time to play games i need to study but im so exhausted that i cant focus at all and im never going to make it to uni at this rate and everything keeps piling on and on and now im stuck and the adhd is only making things worse for me

My teeth constantly hurt my back is always stiff and im in incredible pain and my hair keeps getting oily and my exams always go like shit these days but i dont know if i have enough time to get everything in order i

My psychiatrist is too expensive now and i can only go to her once every 2 months but im nort getting any help at all and she refuses to prescribe me anything bc im not 20 yet but i just want to stop feeling like this and start being functional again i dont care if it messes up my hormones or if i cant give birth or if my period cycle gets messed uo or something i dont care just i just want to feel better again i want everything to stop so that i can catch a break bur it all keeps going faster and im lost

bc of the stuoid fucking wheather the lights keep going out and none of the plugs work properly and so my phone is never charged and Its been like this for days and my dad went on a trio and my mom doesn't want to call an electric and im so fucking annoyed all the time now

My dad never stops making marks about how my grades arent enough and my mom keeos commenting on my weight and my appearance and im so sick and tired of everything i want to fall asleep for 6 years

i have to organise things in my server but i keep putting it off and uts been like that for days and im so overwhelmed at the thought of the task that i cant even start now so im stuck in place being completely unproductive i want this to end i want to study i want to organise the server i want to have a stable life again but things keep going wrong and now im sitting in the kitchen crying and typing bc its like screaming into a void on tumblr

Im so sick and tired of living like this jm exhausted i want the selfcest shipper to leave me alone already i physically need her to leave me the hell alone but she keeps blocking me and unblocking me and following me and unfollowing me and i spend all my time worrying whether or not i did something wrong or upset her and yet she keeps asking to join the aerver and then leaving the server but ppl like her for some reason but shes been nothing but rude to me and keeps acting entitled and i want to be done with her bullshit already

i feel like im slowly losing my mind but bc i act normal irl noone ever realises it but my bucket always fills and i end up lashing out at the weomg time constantly and getting yelled at for it but its fine for everyone to treat me like garbage right?? Its fine for my classmates and own parents to never listen to me and always interrupt me when im trying to talk i guess i should just keep quiet but i have emotions too and i experience them normally amd i should be allowed to express them instead of being told to shut up or getting ignored

I want to sleep for a long time

[hopelikethemoon]

Together (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Together Rating: PG-13 Length: 3600 Warnings: Mild Angst (Therapy) & Breastfeeding an Infant Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in October 1997.  Summary: Reader makes progress with her daughter and they have a joint session.

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim@amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper@awesomefandomsunited​ @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @lady-tano​ @beskar-droids​ @space-floozy@cable-kenobi​ @longitud-de-onda​ @cool-ultra-nerd​ @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​ @pedrosdoll​@seeking-a-greatt-perhaps​–perhaps @frietiemeloen​ @arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ (more tags in the replies)

You groaned quietly as you pulled yourself out of bed, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside you. 

2:20. 

Without fail, Sofía woke up between 2:00 and 2:30 every morning, regardless of how much she ate before bed. You had even attempted keeping her up later, but that didn’t help the situation. You were just exhausted and awake at two in the morning with a fussy baby.

“Get her and come back in here.” Javier murmured, his voice heavy with sleep as he rolled towards you. 

“Shit, did I wake you up?” You questioned, turning on the bedside lamp.

He shielded his eyes, “No, the screaming did. 

“She’s loud.” You agreed, stepping into your house shoes and shuffling across the hall to retrieve Sofía from the nursery. She quieted once you picked her up, but you knew it was only temporary. It never lasted very long

She was so fucking fussy. You were certain you would’ve lost your mind if Josie had been this fussy in Colombia. Her calm demeanor had been a godsend when everything else was chaotic in your life. 

You made your way back into the bedroom, smiling warmly at Javier as you took in his sleepy expression. “You should go back to sleep.” You urged quietly, cradling Sofía in one arm as you set your pillows up so you could lean back on them. 

“Nah, I’m good baby.” Javier assured you, raking his fingers through his messy hair.

You sank back against the pillows, drawing your knees up so you could recline her back against them while you got yourself situated. Nighttime feedings were the worst. Your mind was still your worst enemy and it always seemed worse when you were tired. Like your brain knew to strike while you were already down. 

“I should’ve pumped before bed.” You lamented, “I could just give her a bottle.” 

“You’ve got this.” Javier scooted closer to you, reaching out to brush a piece of hair behind your ear, his knuckles skimming over your cheek. 

You sighed heavily, leaning into his touch. “I’m just tired.” You offered as an excuse. There was a part of you that was convinced you should just stop bothering and get Sofía used to formula, but you didn’t want to admit defeat. You knew there was no shame in it, but it didn’t help you. It was something you had wanted so badly. Your body wanted it to. But Sofía was not as easily convinced. 

You picked her back up, settling her into the curve of your arm as you pulled your breast out of your shirt. You sighed quietly, preparing yourself for disappointment. At least Javier was up, he could try to get Sofía to settle while you pumped. 

No one was going to be getting any sleep tonight.

“Come on Sof,” You whispered, brushing your thumb over her lips, trying to encourage her to latch on. She started whimpering ⁠— clearly hungry, but she refused to pay any attention to your actual nipple. 

“Please don’t do this tonight.” You begged, feeling an ache deep inside of you as she refused to latch on. She would start, her little tongue moving like she wanted food, but then she’d pull back and rob you both of the experience. You just wanted to be able to help her. 

“Hey.” Javier curled his arm around your middle, his hand brushing along your waist. “It’s okay, baby.”

“I’m fine.” You insisted, even though you very much were not okay. Why couldn’t you do this one thing? Something so natural that every woman could do except for you. 

Javier pulled himself up leaning on his side against the pillows you were propped up on. “Are you sure you’re fine?” He questioned, his eyes drawn to the damp spot that had formed on your shirt over your covered breast. “Baby.” 

“Don’t.” You said shortly, shifting away from him despite yourself. “I’m fine, Javi. I don’t need your sympathy.”

“Easy,” He said, sounding far more awake now. “Baby, it’s not sympathy.”  

“I didn’t have any trouble with Josie. None.” You wiped at your eyes, sniffling quietly. “I just don’t understand.” 

“I remember.” Javier nodded his head as he leaned forward and kissed your shoulder. “But they’re different babies and things change. You can’t compare the two.” He brushed his fingers over your hair, trying to calm you. “Why don’t you pause for a second? Remember when we used to lay in bed while you fed Josie?”

You glanced up at him, giving him a small nod. “Yeah.” Admitting temporary defeat, you pulled your shirt back down and cradled Sofía to you as you readjusted yourself on the bed. You settled yourself between Javier’s legs, sinking back against his chest. 

“I hate how I feel like I’m failing her.” You whispered, staring down at her in your arms. She was staring right back at you, her dark eyelashes fluttering as she cooed for attention. “I know, sunshine. I know you’re hungry.” 

“Just relax.” Javier advised you, brushing his fingers over the back of your hand where you were cradling Sofía’s head. “You’ve got this, baby.” 

“Do I?” 

“You do.” 

You swallowed thickly around the lump in your throat. You hated how you felt. Like you were failing Sofía and yourself. Your mind trying to convince yourself that you had failed. That Javier was only pitying you… even though you knew that wasn’t true. Javi sure as hell didn’t do pity. 

He pressed his lips to your shoulder, his breath tickling your skin as he exhaled. “You’re not failing her.” Javier reassured you, running his hand down your side and giving your hip a squeeze. 

“I feel like I am.” You leaned your head back against his shoulder. “With everything I’ve done? I can take being shot ⁠— twice. I can handle taking down narcos, putting up with more bullshit than any one person should have to handle, but this? Not being able to feed my baby? That’s what has broken me.” 

“You’re not broken.” Javier shook his head, kissing a spot just behind your ear. “Let’s try again.” He urged quietly, rubbing his hand down your arm. “And if she still won’t latch on, I’ll get the pump for you.” 

You tried to stifle the ache you felt in your chest. Your heart breaking in the best of ways. Javier was so understanding and patient with you. What had you done to deserve him? A lesser man wouldn’t have put up with this for three months, thinking you were done with him. You knew it wasn’t easy for him. It wasn’t easy for either of you. 

“Alright.” You nodded slowly as you took a hold of his arm, guiding it around your middle. “Here.” You situated his arm beneath Sofía. “Just like that.” 

Javier cradled your daughter carefully, his lips still gently brushing against your shoulder. “You’ve got this, baby.” He whispered. 

You ignored the prickle of tears in your eyes as you pulled your shirt up again. Sofía was squirming, quiet little sobs escaping her as she waited to be fed. You both worked to readjust her, trying to find the right position for her. The second she latched on, that well of emotion inside overwhelmed you. 

“You did it baby.” Javier whispered, lifting his hand to smooth his fingers through your hair. “Fuck. Look at you both.” He pressed his cheek against yours. 

“Shh.” You laughed softly, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

“Baby, don’t cry.” 

“They’re happy tears.” You promised as you looked down at her, watching her as she drank from you. You were certain she was just as relieved as you were. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

“Stop, you’re going to make me cry more Javi.” You reached behind you, playing your fingers through his hair. 

“But I am proud of you, baby. Look at this little girl you made.” 

“We.” 

“She’s perfect.” Javier whispered, brushing his lips against the curve of your shoulder. “I know it’s been hard, baby. But you’re doing so incredible.” 

You smiled, leaning your head against his. “Maybe you’re the secret.” You teased. 

He shook his head, “I think you just need to be reminded to relax.” His hand kept wandering, reassuringly smoothing down your arm, squeezing your hip to emphasize something he’d said. “You’re so tense every time you have to feed her, baby. You both are.” 

“I just want this so badly.” You admitted. “It was this thing that Josie and I had, thirty minutes to ourselves. There was nothing beyond the apartment that mattered. She was so easy.” 

“I know.” He rubbed your side. “Our girls are different and that’s okay.” Javier reminded you. “Sofía’s too much like her old man. Complaining about shit all the time.” 

“Oh, are you not the father?” You laughed. “Because you are the easy one between us.” 

“I am?”

You rolled your eyes. “You are not a complainer, babe. You just bottle it up and then we have to talk about it in therapy.” 

He chuckled, brushing his nose against your neck. “You nervous about today’s joint session?”

“A little.” You admitted, smiling down at Sofía as she stopped sucking for a second. She opened and closed her lips, blinking slowly before she went back in for a second round, latching on all by herself. It really was a relief. A tiny victory.

“I guess it means we’re making progress.” Javier sighed softly, rubbing his hand over your side. “I’m proud of you, baby.” 

You tilted your head to smile back at him. “I’m proud of you too.” 

——

 “I want to remind you both that everything that is said today should be considered with understanding and compassion.” Nancy said with a cautious tone. “I would like to work through anything that comes up today within this safe space.”

You made a face, looking towards Javier then. “Should I be afraid?” You whispered.

He laughed quietly, reaching for your hand. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

You interlaced your fingers, squeezing three times. As far as you knew, there wasn’t anything between the two of you that would warrant that sort of disclaimer. 

Nancy opened her notebook, flipping through a few pages before she settled on one. “During our sessions, I made a note that both of you regarded that three month period of time between your daughter’s conception and the start of your relationship with some contempt.”

“Contempt?” You frowned. “I mean it was a difficult period of time.”

Javier rocked his jaw slowly. “I don’t know if I’d call my emotions contempt. It was a fucking nightmare, but I sure as held didn’t regard her with contempt.”

“But did you regard yourself with contempt?” She questioned leadingly. 

Your brows furrowed as you turned to stare at him. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “Did you really call a joint session because of what I said during the last time?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What did you say?”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, giving a short shake of his head. “Nancy thought it would be a good idea to dissect that period of time. I had some baggage I wasn’t really looking to unpack.” 

Shit. 

“That’s my fault.” You squeezed his hand. 

“I figured.” 

“Javi, I’m sorry.” You shifted closer to him. “It was just… Fuck. I knew you were still holding on to all of that.”

“Yeah, I was.” Javier shrugged. “It’s fine, baby. Don’t get torn up about it.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. “It was bound to come out sooner or later.” 

Nancy looked between the two of you, “You would be correct there, Javier. Regardless of what was recommended to me by your partner, we got to the heart of the matter naturally.” 

He raked his hand over his face, sighing heavily as he sank back against the sofa. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” Javier stared at Nancy. “None of this is news to her. She knows how I felt about that shit.” 

“Your arrangement with hookers?” Nancy questioned. 

His jaw set hard. “Yeah.” 

You frowned, looking between the two of them. “I thought I made it clear that there wasn’t an issue there…” You leaned forward, releasing your hold on Javier’s hand. “I mean, maybe I was a little jealous before we got together, but… It’s not an issue.” 

Javier turned to look at you, brows drawn together. “You sure it wasn’t an issue?”

“My only issue was that you were bragging about it to Tom in front of my desk, Javier.” You shot him a pointed look. “I have never wanted to crawl into a hole and die as badly as I did that day. And I already felt like shit that day.” 

“Did I know you were pregnant?”

“No.” You gritted out. “But you were doing it on purpose.” 

Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, resting his elbows against his knees as he leaned forward. “Because I wanted to get a reaction out of you.” He admitted, tilting his head just enough to catch your eye. “I felt like shit too, baby. Not for the same reason you did, but I did. I didn’t get any fucking information and there was no amount of water that could wash away how I felt afterwards. And I thought… Fuck. If you cared, it would all be worth it. If I got some hint out of you that you were jealous, that maybe there was a chance for us.” 

“Javi.” 

“Even after we got together you were just so ambivalent about everything. I felt like shit about it, but you just kept insisting it was work.” He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “You acted like you didn’t care.” 

Your heart clenched as you stared at him, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut. “It was an act, Javier. I had to focus on our daughter and do what was right by her. We lived life on a tightrope. I couldn’t care about what you did for the DEA. But I cared deeply. I hated every second of it.” You pushed your fingers through your hair, chewing on your bottom lip. “I was so fucking happy when you turned up at the apartment that night. I hated thinking about you being with someone else… I always hated it.”

He turned to look at you then. “Really?”

You nodded slowly. “Every time Connie tried to set you up with someone, I just… I wanted to scream. I was right there.” You rolled your eyes and looked away, hugging your arms around your middle. “And we all know why you hated Lance.” 

Javier huffed. “Shots fired.” 

Your lips twitched upwards at the corners. “And who were your regulars? Freckles… Nessa…”

He widened his eyes, staring at you with an incredulous laugh. “You remember their names?”

You shrugged, pursing your lips. “Better than I remember the names of anyone I ever went home with.” You snorted. 

“And why do you think that is?” Nancy questioned. You had actually forgotten that she was sitting there listening to that entire exchange. 

You laughed awkwardly, “I remember everything Javier has ever brought up.” 

“Really?”

Javier nodded. “She really does. It’s slightly terrifying.” He reached over and gave your leg a squeeze. 

Nancy made a note in her journal, glancing between you. “Let’s circle back to Lance.” 

You groaned. 

“Javier, how did that situation make you feel?”

He scratched at his jaw. “Well, he’s CIA so… not great.” Javer clicked his tongue against his teeth and looked at you. “He was good to her, though. As her friend, I mean… I couldn’t complain about that.” 

“He was boring.” You pointed out, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. “He was a great guy, though. I basically broke up with him because I wasn’t as into him as he was into me.” You looked at Javier then, “He wasn’t you.” 

“How would you compare your intimacy with Lance to your intimacy with Javier?” 

“Wow.” You rubbed at the back of your neck. “We’re just going to go straight in for the kill.” You kicked off your shoes and curled your legs beneath you on the sofa. “I mean, if we’re being honest here or whatever… There was nothing to complain about in regards to sex with Lance. We had decent chemistry…” You shrugged a shoulder, looking towards Javier then. “He wasn’t super adventurous.” 

“How did it compare to what you have now?”

You laughed, leaning back against the sofa. “There’s no comparison. I’m not just saying this because you’re sitting next to me,” You told Javier, before looking back at Nancy. “I have never had a partner like Javier.”

“I agree.” Javier remarked, reaching over to rest his hand on your thigh. “That’s an area we aren’t having issues in.” 

You rested your hand over his. “Even with communication, I think we’re getting better. I mean, last night Javier helped me get Sofia eating. He talked me through it and helped me keep from getting stuck in my head.” You watched Nancy as she took notes. “What was the purpose of today’s session?” 

“I wanted to see how you react to difficult topics about each other. I was struck by how conscientious you are in our independent sessions. You both try to rationalize for each other.” She tapped her pen against her chin thoughtfully. “Some of my clients are prone to make excuses for their partner, but that’s not what this is.” 

“What is it?” Javier questioned, narrowing his eyes. 

“I think, in part, it’s derived from how your relationship began. You had both already accepted the flaws in one another. Most couples don’t discover those flaws until years into a relationship. What I’m fascinated with is this dynamic.” She gestured between the two of you. “You don’t shield your own flaws from Javier, you shield him from his flaws. And the same can be said about you, Javier. I’ve said it before and I’ll gladly say it again… I have no doubt that the two of you love one another. That is not what I am concerned with.”

You stiffened. “But you are concerned with something?”

Nancy closed her notebook, leaning forward against her desk. “It’s quite clear that you both carry your emotions with you. Misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and communication issues. We can work through them as we move forward. You mentioned living life on a tightrope,” She looked at you then. “You’re still on that tightrope.”

Javier and you exchanged looks. 

“Javier, you spent three months ⁠— in silence ⁠— convinced that she was planning to leave you.” Nancy reminded him firmly, before she looked at you. “And you may have convinced yourself that you don’t believe he would ever stray, but deep down you do worry about that.”

You swallowed thickly, but the weight of Javi’s hand on your thigh, squeezing you reassuringly kept you from falling apart. “I don’t… That’s not…” You stared at a spot on the floor. How had she figured that out? You hadn’t even hinted at it… had you? Unintentionally? 

“I wouldn’t⁠—” 

“I know.” You cut him off, “Trust me I know. Just like I would never leave.” 

Nancy shook her head slowly. “That right there is what I’m talking about. Both of those fears are completely normal. You’re allowed to have insecurities in your relationship. It’s healthy.” 

You made a face. “I’d rather just repress those fears.” 

“Yep.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

Nancy shook her head. “We’ll keep working on this.” 

“If we have to.” You offered begrudgingly, scooting back to the edge of the sofa and putting your shoes back on. “Is there anything you want us to work on together?” 

Javier ran his hand down your back slowly. “Our current homework regimen seems to be working.” 

You snorted. “No complaints there.” 

“Just keep listening to each other. And don’t be afraid to explore with each other.” Nancy advised.

You raised a brow as you looked at Javier. “I don’t think she thinks we’re adventurous.” 

“If only she knew.” Javier quipped with a smirk. “Come on, baby. Let’s go get the girls.” 

“Thanks again, Nancy.” You offered, before you followed Javier out of the office. “Holy shit.” You whispered, once the door was shut behind you. 

“Seriously.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, shaking his head slowly. “Sometimes I come out of there feeling like she wants there to be issues between us. Asking about Lance.” He shot you a look, his dark gaze looking particularly stormy. 

“At least that’s an easy answer.” You tugged at his hand, stopping just before the stairwell that led down to the parking lot. “And for the record, I am sorry about how things panned out in Colombia. I was scared... and.” You took both of his hands into yours. “That morning I had planned to tell you that I thought I was pregnant. I didn’t know yet, but I was convinced. 

“Baby…” “I didn’t realize that you were trying to make me jealous. I legitimately thought that you were trying to drive home just how unremarkable our night was.” 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah.” You squeezed his hands. “We are really bad at assuming the worst in each other.” 

“For the record,” Javier released one of your hands so he could cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the rise of your cheekbone. “I love you.” 

You rose up on your toes and kissed him, “I love you too, Javi.” 

[shofie-ffxiv]

Prompt #7: Forgiven

Content Warning: Blood ----------------

She lifted her glass, taking a quiet sip. “Well, isn’t this unpleasant?” She asked politely.

Kiht’a offered a forced smile as he folded his hands neatly on the table. “Extremely.”

She made no move, feigning ignorance. “So ask.”

Kiht’a’s jaw clenched rhythmically a few times before he found his voice, the words not coming easily to him. “I find for all my talents, I lack the contacts The Dusk Wolves--that you have. I need your...help.” Kiht’a was not asking The Dusk Wolves for help. He was asking Shofie for help. She wanted him to squirm. 

She could see his jaw clenching again.  The corner of Shofie’s mouth drew up gently into a half-smile, but she said nothing. Kiht’a took a deep breath, and Shofie counted the seconds it took him to blow it back out. Ten. Ten seconds.

“So you just...come to us, why, exactly? You could have gone to someone else.” Kiht’a straightened. “To be fair, I did not know you were a part of this. I didn’t exactly keep tabs on you after you left school.” Shofie frowned. “Oh, yes, right. The school I attended until you set a desk on fire and blamed me for it. I can’t imagine you’d have given two shits about me after I left. Hell, you probably even celebrated when you found out you’d never have to deal with me again, right?” She thumped the glass down on the table, irritated by the memories. 

She leaned forward, gritting her teeth. She had no patience for him. “So tell me, Kiht’a Nbolo, why did you come to me?” 

Kiht’a’s ear flicked back as he tried to avoid outright flinching away from her anger. He was trying to put up some bravado. She slammed her fist on the desk, rattling the glass violently, almost tipping it over. Kiht’a lifted his hands off his edge of the table, settling them instead in his lap. He struggled to look her in the eye.

“Why are you here? To mock me more? Was stealing that life from me not enough for you? Came to take another life? Her anger flared, as she leaned forward in her chair. “You can’t have this one, Kiht’a.”

He could see the aether flash in her eyes, there was no mistaking it. He would be in awe if he weren’t actually afraid of her in this moment. He started mentally tallying over emergency exit plans, just in case. “Sof-”

She cut him off with a hiss before he could finish the word. “Don’t call me that!" She continued in a low growl, her deep voice a rumble. “Why are you here, Kiht’a?”

He paused, carefully remembering her new name. “Shofie, I’m sorry.”

She blinked, confused. Her anger vanished. His words did not make sense.

“You...what?”

“Shofie, I’m sorry. I can’t make an excuses for what I did to you, or how I treated you. I hated you so much. I treated you terribly. I need your help, and if I have to beg you for it, I will. But you also deserve an apology whether you help me or not.”

Shofie had planned on throwing him out on his ass entirely. But now he was apologizing?

Confused, her anger defensively flared again, and she gripped the mug in her hand so hard she shattered it in her fist. Kiht’a’s eyes were wide. Shards of glass and blood ran down her forearm, and she made no move to open her fist. She was intentionally drawing her anger off Kiht’a, trying not to make him the target. “You’re sorry?!”

Kiht’a bowed his head submissively. “Shofie, please forgive me.”

She slowly pushed herself out of the chair, and opened her hand, carefully plucking out shards of glass, throwing them on the table. Tink, tink. Blood drops splattered casually between them, arcing off the glass as it clattered across the table.

Her voice was surprisingly quiet. “You’re a piece of shit, Kiht’a. I should tell you to just fuck off and make sure I never see your face ever again.”

She pulled more glass out, and gently blew a breath out.

She wasn’t entirely sure he was sincerely apologizing, and that it wasn’t some kind of trick. Maybe he was trying to get her to drop her guard. Maybe it was an attempt to manipulate her. Maybe he thought she’d be more inclined to help him if he offered an apology first. She couldn’t say. But she couldn’t find any good reason not to take it at face value.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” He rose from his chair, as it making to leave. “I’m sorry to have troubled you.” She plucked another piece of glass out of her hand. What an absolute bastard. She sighed. “Kiht’a...we’ll--I’ll help you.”

He offered her a soft, gentle smile, the first time she’d ever seen such a thing from him. “Thank you.” He came around the table and gently took her injured hand, turning it palm up. “You’ll need a healer for this.” Shofie glared at him, indignant. “If this is some kind of trick, Kiht’a, you will be the one needing a healer.” As if noticing her rather large biceps for the first time, he eyed them without subtlety. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

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[flowerfan2]

Ain’t No Sunshine

McDanno, M, 2600 words, A03

Since Steve almost died, Danny’s been as attentive as ever.  But something is missing, and it hurts worse than any gunshot wound.

Set after the end of season 6.

**********

Steve leans back against the pillows and pushes the sheet down to his waist, exposing the healing scars from his gunshot wounds and transplant surgery.  He knows Danny has a matching scar, though he hasn’t seen it in weeks.  Which is sort of the problem.

 Not that he’s got a thing with scars, necessarily, or that he wishes he could make sure that Danny was healing okay, which, yeah, there’s a little of that.  But mostly it’s that he hasn’t seen much of Danny’s body at all lately, or vice versa.

 Although this thing between them was relatively new before the mess that nearly took Steve’s life, they had fallen into a comfortable routine.  It honestly hadn’t changed much from before they got together – evenings hanging out in Danny’s living room or on the lanai at Steve’s followed by half-hearted protests at spending the night together.  Except their debates about casework and early mornings were resolved with kisses and lazy sex, instead of just more beer.

 But things have been decidedly different since Danny landed the plane on the beach, saving Steve’s life by not drowning him and then doing it again by giving up half of an internal organ.  Sure, they still spend time together, although a little less so now that Danny has returned to work and Steve is on the bench for a few more weeks.  But Danny is as attentive as ever, checking in with Steve multiple times during the day, making sure Steve takes his meds, and coming home as quickly as he can in the evenings.

 It would all be fine, except that it’s not.  For one, their sex life seems to have disappeared along with the now forbidden beer. Now Steve isn’t actually an animal, and he doesn’t actually need sex per se.  But it’s not the lack of sex itself that’s the problem. It’s the distance that lies between them at night, when Danny tucks Steve into bed and then goes out to the couch to read a book, claiming that he doesn’t want to keep Steve awake with his tossing and turning.  It’s the hurt that flares up when Steve reaches for Danny and his partner turns away.

 It’s the ache in his chest when Steve lies in bed like he’s doing now, freshly showered and shaved, waiting in vain for his best friend to slide under the covers and smile at him, make some stupid remark about the craziness of their day, and curl up against his chest to let sleep overtake him. 

 Steve has tried to talk about it with Danny, but the words just won’t come.  He thinks Danny feels it too.  Danny’s great at powering through, at shouldering the world’s burdens, and he has apparently decided that Steve’s recovery is on the list of things he’s responsible for.  He doesn’t even complain – Danny never complains about things that really matter, like caring for Grace and Charlie and going out of his way to help his 5-0 Ohana. Sure, he’ll gripe about the traffic on the way to the doctor’s office, but he’s never once failed to accompany Steve to an appointment.  Taking care of the people in his life is a labor of love for Danny, and Steve is grateful for it.  But it doesn’t take the place of what’s missing.

 Steve hears Danny turn off the shower, and readies himself for the inevitable – Danny shuffling through the bedroom, sleep pants already on, saying a quick good night before excusing himself to do paperwork in the study, or unload the dishwasher.  Steve can’t help but let a bitter laugh escape – his kitchen has never been this clean.

 “Take your meds?” Danny asks, rubbing a towel over his hair and turning to get a clean t-shirt out of the drawer.

 “Yup.”

 “Okay, well, Jerry said he was sending me some more information on that weird break-in at the marina, so I’m going to-”

 “It can wait, Danny.” Steve sits up in bed and gazes at Danny, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

 “Nah, it’s okay, I’m not sleepy.  It’s no big-”

 “Danny.  I mean it.  It can wait.”

 Danny must hear something in Steve’s tone, and he turns to really look at him.  “Steve, is something wrong?”

 Steve resists the urge to back away.  It’s time. “You know it is.”

 A flicker of fear passes over Danny’s face, and then he’s back to teasing again.  “If this is going to be another argument about going surfing this weekend, the doctor has been perfectly clear about that, Steven, and I for one am in total agreement.”

 Danny’s got his hand on his hip, but in the silence that follows his attempt to diffuse the moment, he lets it fall.

 “Steve?”

 Steve swallows hard, and pats the bed next to him.  “Come here.”

 Danny looks like he’s going to protest, but thinks better of it and sits sideways on the bed, his feet still on the floor.  “What’s going on?”

 “We need to fix this.”

 Danny looks around the room. “Fix what?”

 Steve huffs.  “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

 They’re so far removed from okay that Danny doesn’t even attempt to make a joke about how everything is harder in bed, or any of the ridiculous things he might have said if this evening was going where it would have, before…

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve,” Danny says quietly.

 “You’re a terrible liar.”

 Danny stands up and waves his hands, getting upset.  “Then why don’t you come out and say it?” he demands.  “Stop playing games with me, I can’t take any more of this.  I’m trying as hard as I can and if it isn’t enough…” he trails off, and Steve catches a glimpse of tears shining in his eyes.

 He’s out of bed and standing in front of Danny in an instant.  “Hey, that’s not what I meant at all, not at all.”  Steve takes Danny gently by the shoulders, relief flooding him when Danny doesn’t pull away.  But Danny still won’t meet his eyes.

 “Danny, do you think I’m breaking up with you?”

 Danny shakes his head, but a tear escapes and slides its way down his cheek.  Steve swipes it with a finger, and turns Danny’s face to his.

 “I’m not, okay?  That’s the farthest thing from my mind.  I love you.”

 “I love you, too,” Danny chokes out, scrubbing a hand over his face.  He takes a deep breath, and steps back, out of Steve’s hold.  “Then what is it?  What’s wrong?”

 Steve looks down at his hands, now empty, and motions at the space Danny has just put between them.  “This.”

 Danny’s face closes off. He doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. “You’re still healing.”

 “Hardly.”

 “Hardly, he says.  Haven’t you been listening to the doctors?  It will take months before you’re one hundred percent.  Months.” Danny paces as he speaks, hands waving.  “I’m not going to risk hurting you, Steven.  I’m not.  I won’t.”

 “But you are.”

 Danny’s head snaps up, his eyes flashing.  “What?”

 “You don’t think this is hurting us?”  Steve steps closer to Danny and holds out his hand.  “I miss you.  I miss us. And I’m willing to bet you miss it too. We can’t keep doing this.”

 Danny presses a hand over his mouth, face crumbling.  “Steve…”

 “Come here,” Steve says, and wraps Danny in a hug.  Danny relents, burying his face against Steve’s shoulder.  Steve keeps his hold light, one hand on the back of Danny’s head, the other softly circling his back.  “Will you let me try something, Danny?  Will you trust me?”

 Danny lifts his head, his blue eyes wide.  “Always.”

 “All right.”

 Steve leads Danny back to bed, and Steve arranges them so that they’re stretched out on their sides. They’re facing each other, not quite touching, which is fine with Steve for what he has in mind.  Cuddling will come later, hopefully, if all goes well.

 “I want you to know there’s nothing to worry about.  That I’m okay.”

 Danny bites his lip.  “I don’t know how to stop worrying.  In the plane… you told me you were dying.  You actually said it.  And you were shot…”

 “It’s not the first time, not for either of us.”  Regrettably, this is true.  They’ve both been shot far too many times.

 “I’m aware,” Danny says, but with no heat in it.  “Enough so that I could tell it wasn’t like the other times.  This was bad, Steve.”

 Steve takes Danny’s hand from where it’s resting on the bed between them, and tangles their fingers together.  “I want you to try something.”

 Danny gives him a questioning look.  “Okay.”

 Steve takes Danny’s hand and places it on his chest, right on the long scar from the transplant.  “Check it out.  I’m okay.”

 Danny is trying not to pull his hand back, Steve can tell.  

 “You’re not going to hurt me, Danny.  I promise.”

 Danny relaxes his hand, letting it lie carefully over Steve’s skin.  Steve puts his hand on top of Danny’s and presses down, but this is too much for Danny and he whips his hand away.

 “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

 Steve gives him a moment, and then takes his hand again and puts it right back.  “I’m all healed there, Danny.  There’s no pain when you do that.  Nothing’s going to break, or bleed.  Not there, and not on the others.”  Steve moves his hand to the messy gunshot wounds.  “You were there for all the doctor’s visits, you know this.”

 Danny closes his eyes, letting out a long breath.  “I should know it.  But it’s hard to forget what I saw.  There was so much blood…”

 Steve knows he passed out in the plane, knows Danny thought he might actually be dead, that they couldn’t find his pulse.  Knows that Danny didn’t give up, risking his life to land the plane on the beach, hoping he could save Steve.  And he did. Steve isn’t going to give up, either.

 “Try, Danny.”  Steve runs his hand up Danny’s arm, slides his fingers under the sleeve of his t-shirt, and then back down again.  Danny shivers, the gentle touch somehow more intimate than any they’ve shared in weeks.  “Please.”

 Danny nods, opening his eyes and meeting Steve’s.  “Okay.”

 Danny starts moving his hand, looking down at Steve’s body as he does.  He circles the scars, then touches them, checking up with glances at Steve’s face as if to make sure he really isn’t hurting him.  Then, to Steve’s surprise, Danny leans over and kisses each one, gently tracing the puckered gunshot wounds on his side and shoulder, and drawing his lips softly over the long surgical incision from the transplant. Finally Danny rests his cheek on Steve’s stomach, his hand still tracing the scars.

 “I was so scared, Steve,” Danny says softly.  “I’m still so scared.”

 “I know, Danny.  I know.”  Steve pulls Danny up his body and pushes his hair out of his face.  “I’m sorry.”

 Their eyes meet, and Steve rejoices as Danny leans in for a kiss.  It’s gentle at first, just a brush of the lips, and then Danny squirms tighter against him and open his mouth with a low moan.

 When they pull apart, Danny’s smile has returned, and it’s like the sun finally coming out from behind the clouds.  They both laugh, relief and happiness and love all there together, more emotion that Steve ever thought he could stand.

 “I was an idiot,” Danny says, humming in pleasure as Steve slides his hips against Danny’s, their legs weaving around each other until the pressure is just right.  “Why’d you let me be such an idiot,” he mumbles, breath coming faster as Steve mouths along the sensitive skin on his neck.

 “You’re my idiot,” Steve replies, pulling back just long enough to divest Danny of his t-shirt.  With a quick look at each other they tug off their sleep pants and boxers.  Danny gazes appreciatively at Steve, running his hand down his hip and pressing their bodies back together, and Steve grins right back at him, taking a moment to nuzzle into the fuzzy hair on Danny’s chest.

 “I take it you’re all healed up, too?”  Steve asks, sliding a hand between them to touch Danny’s most recent scar, almost a twin to his own.

 “We can play doctor later, babe,” Danny pants out, his own hand snaking down to stroke Steve, who is hard and leaking.  “Focus, Steven.”  Steve obliges, finding Danny’s cock and lining it up with his own, both their hands stroking and tugging and generally feeling awesome.  

 “You make me feel so good, Danny,” Steve praises.  “It’s so good.  I…” Steve loses his train of thought as Danny does something with his fingers at the tip, causing a flare of pleasure.  Steve rides the sensations, treasuring the sounds Danny makes, his hot breath against his skin, the feel of Danny’s hands everywhere.

 “Fuck, this isn’t going to last long, is it?”  Danny says, a laugh in his voice as Steve grabs his ass with his other hand and squeezes. Steve doesn’t even have the breath to respond, his reply purely physical as his release hits him.  Danny follows seconds after, and Steve just hangs on, overwhelmed and so, so happy.

 Steve doesn’t know how much time passes before they recover enough to untangle themselves from the damp sheets and wiggle away from the wet spots, but eventually they are sliding towards sleep, Danny curled up against Steve’s good side, his hand roaming over Steve’s chest.  He slows over a scar, one fingertip prodding it gently.

 “You’re really okay?” Danny whispers, barely audible.  

 Steve’s heart skips a beat, and he answers quickly, his voice in his throat.  “I’m really okay.”

 “Let’s never do that again,” Danny says.  

 Steve isn’t sure if he means getting shot at (which is pretty likely to happen again, given their track record) or keeping away from each other out of fear.  He’s fairly certain it’s the latter.

 “As long as we end up here, it’ll be alright.”  He means it. Shit’s going to happen.  It’s life, it’s not going to be smooth.  It’s what you do when it gets rough that counts.

 Danny pushes himself up on an elbow and blinks at Steve.  “You can be very wise, sometimes, you know that?”

 “I have my moments.”

 Danny snuggles back down against Steve, and Steve wraps an arm around him, holding him close.  They’re going to be okay.

 “We are, Steven,” Danny mumbles, “we are.”  Apparently Steve’s inner ramblings weren’t quite as internal as he believed.  “Now go to sleep.”

 “Love you, Danno,” Steve can’t resist one final kiss to the top of Danny’s head.  And the last word.  Because frankly, he did a good thing tonight.

 “I’ll give you a gold star in the morning.  Or a blow job.  Just stop mumbling and let me get some rest.”

 Steve laughs, and Danny joins in, and somewhere in the midst of it all they decide they aren’t that sleepy after all, and blow jobs ensue.  Because why put off until tomorrow, etc. etc.?

 It’s hours later that they are finally fading into sleep, even the joy and relief at their reunion unable to keep them awake any longer.  Steve’s doze is interrupted by one last, nervous question from Danny.

 “What would you have done if it didn’t work?  What you did tonight, if it didn’t fix us?”

 Steve isn’t really fully awake, but he knows the answer without having to think about it.  “I’d keep trying.”

 “Yeah?  Promise?”  Danny sounds worried, and Steve can’t have it, shifting to plant a kiss full on Danny’s lips.

 “Promise.”

 ********

Title from Bill Withers’ Ain’t No Sunshine.

[demondean-for-kingofhell]

If You Only Knew

CHAPTER 7: INCARCERATION

INFILTRATION || WITNESS || INHIBITIONS || MANIPULATION || 

EXPANSION || SUSPICION

“What the fuck do you mean ‘You don’t know’, Cas?!” Sam roared, one huge hand sweeping across his desk to send nearly everything on it flying.

Cas and Sofia both cringed away from his wrath.

“Somebody fucking answer me!” he screamed, his face turning red with his anger. A muscle in his jaw twitched and he turned a hateful stare to Sofia when she cleared her throat.

“Sam, we had no choice. We had to get the shipment out of there! I thought she was right behind us I swe-”

“THAT’S NO FUCKING EXCUSE!” The house was bound to come down around them with the force of his fury. He sat back, running agitated hands through his hair, a sure sign that his anger was still raging just under the surface. “Okay...let’s just use our heads here. She doesn’t have a record. The DEA seemed more intent on getting to the Russians. “She was injured because you two left her unprotected!” He sat heavily in the chair, his weight pushing it back several inches as he felt the reality of the situation close in around him. “She’s in the hospital, no doubt. They’d want her alive for questioning.”

“Boss…” Cas started. “You can’t be thinking what I know you’re thinking.”

“Novak,” Samuel’s eyes burned like embers as his gaze bore deep into the mind of his friend, “if I were you...you’d shut the fuck up.” Sam growled in response, fingers tapping across the wood desk, where just last week you’d let him-no. He couldn’t think about that now.

Sam stood, towering above his desk. “I am going to see her.”

“Sam.” Sofia stood, panic laced her voice. “You can’t! There will be agents everywhere!”

“Good! It’ll only serve to frustrate them when they realize they’ve got nothing on me!” He spat, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction.

“Suspicion alone will let them hold you for twenty four hours.” Cas interrupted him as he paused to take another breath.

“So let them hold me...I don’t care! I won’t leave her there to suffer alone!” Sam was already on his feet, headed for the office door.

Sofia started to follow but Cas rested a hand on her forearm. “Sam, I didn’t want to tell you this…” she sighed and jerked out of Cas’ grip.

“Sofia! Please, for fuck’s sake, just fucking stop with the conspiracy theories! She’s not a narc!” He spared one glance back at her, his lip curled up into a snarl. “As it is, it would be hard for her to steal me away from you. I’m not yours to hold onto. Never have been. Never will be.” Sam tore his jacket out of Sofia’s desperate grasp.

She blurted the words out anyway, ignoring Cas’ desperate whispered plea, “She saved that agent, you know. Smith! From the DEA!” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a smile twisting dark red lips with the certainty of her accusation. “She pulled him to the floor when the Russians opened fire!”

Sam only let out a breath, could’ve been a laugh. It wasn’t. “Castiel...out of consideration of our friendship, I advise you to keep your bitch in line. I don’t enjoy putting pups down.”

Cas grabbed her bicep when she pushed past him, advancing on Sam. “Dammit, you’re gonna fucking listen to me! Something is wrong with her!”

“Sam, it’s true. I saw her drag him to the ground, a stray bullet caught her on the way.” Cas spoke slowly, deliberately.

He stopped one last time, hand on the doorknob. “Novak, last chance.” The weight in his voice was lost on them both.

“What the fuck?! You’re choosing her over us?!” Sofia nearly screamed. Sam didn’t even blink, didn’t make any other move except to draw his gun, firing a single round that buried itself in her chest.

The long moment between the concussion of air and her shocked expression did nothing to change the expression of the man holding the trigger. The rest of the scene fell to pieces around them.

“Fuck, fuck!” Cas caught her as she fell, trying to stem the flow of blood. “Sam what the fuck, man?! Oh, God, Sof…”

Sam watched her draw in a wet sounding breath, and dialed 911 from his cell, tossing it to Cas.

The harsh growl bit out between Sam’s teeth as his fingers clutched the door, “Save her then. But next time...if she makes it, do as you’re fucking told.”

Getting shot was a bitch. You were cuffed to the bed, in order to protect your cover in case any of Sam’s thugs came sniffing around. The pain meds had you groggy, in a near constant state of half consciousness.

Yet Dean insisted on briefing you and making sure you were okay. Apparently, the Russians had been taken into custody and it seemed they would flip on Sergio any time just to get a softer sentencing.

He finally left you alone and you were hovering on the edge of sleep when there was a light knock on the door, and Sam stepped through with a soft smile. You spied an obscenely huge bouquet of roses and lilies in one hand. “Hey, how you feelin’ baby girl?”

You groaned, “Got myself shot,” to tired to even smile back at him, “...hurts,”

“Yeah, I bet.” He seemed relieved that you were cracking jokes. He sat in the recliner next to your bed, the flowers ending up on your bedside table.

“Those are pretty; for me?” God, every word hurt to force out.

“Well, I had other stuff in mind just yesterday, but you went and got yourself shot, baby.” A sly wink was tossed your way and he grinned, taking your hand gently. “No, I just had to see you were okay with my own eyes, and the bouquet was a good disguise for getting in here to you.”

“You’re so sweet.” You croaked, cracking a small smile. “I’m okay.” Three inches to the right and you would have died instantly.

“Good, good.” His expression turned more serious, hazel eyes looking into your own. “Kate, I came so close to losing you yesterday…” he pressed the back of your hand to his lips, you felt them tremble as he bent his forehead to rest on your bedside. You felt yourself softening as his fingers masked your hands and stroked your fingers, his large hand coming to rest gently in yours.

“Kate....” You heard his voice waver, timid for the first time, “I can’t….”

Unconsciously, you felt your fingers wrap his.

“I can’t ever feel like that again.” His eyes tilted up over the edge of the bed and he was human. His hazel eyes weren’t those of the man who ordered hits and kilos of cartel trades. He was just...Sam.

“Promise me?” The pleading was unbearable.

“Sam, I’m gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” You slipped a weak laugh into your words.

“Kate, I’m serious!” He sighed, almost as if he were talking to a wayward child. “I never should have sent you out on that deal. I can’t believe I even considered it.”

“Please, can we not do this here?” Your free hand went to your chest when you tried to sit up. “We can fight about it later at the house.”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He let out a small relieved laugh. “That sounds amazing.”  You were surprised to see him hiding tears. “That reminds me,” he kissed your knuckles again. “Sofia said something…”

You were instantly more alert, heart threatening to burst right out of your chest. You tried to control your breathing, in vain. Maybe he would take it as a side effect of the meds you were on. “Said what?” Was all you managed to get out.

“She said you pulled Agent Smith out of the line of fire once the shooting started.” He held your gaze. Suddenly, all the severity of the cartel came back to his gaze in full force. Whether he loved you, or not - he didn’t trust you, not fully. Before, you caught yourself considering the consequences of your actions, you found yourself pitying his lack of confidence in humanity.

You waited him out. Gave him a hopelessly confused look, as if trying to recall the situation. You’d hoped that would never come to light.

He plowed on. “Now...normally I wouldn’t put much stock in anything she says, but Novak says he saw the same.” His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of your hand. “I need the truth, Katie.” There it was again, the hope.

“Sam...it all happened so fast. I turned to run, but he was there blocking my way. Cas and Sofia ran up into the stairwell, shots were fired. I didn’t think, I just...instinct I guess.” You were suddenly desperate to make everything right. You realized you didn’t just need Sam to trust you. You wanted him to. Tears sprang to your eyes unbidden and unwelcome, but you could use them to your advantage. “Sam, I’m so sorry! I-I was just-”

“Hey, hey...sweetheart it’s okay. You most likely saved his life, and even though that’s less than desireable for me...” he smiled, a genuine, full on dimpled smile. “You’re a good person, Kate. You’re the kind of person I want around me. Next to me.”

You jumped when the door swung open, bouncing against the rubber stopper on the wall behind it. Two men with guns drawn were standing in the doorway, eyes trained on Sam. “DEA! GET ON THE GROUND!”

Sam only smiled at you, letting go of your hand and getting to his knees, hands locked behind his head. You forced yourself to sit up, though your chest burned with the effort. “Sam!”

“They can only hold me for twenty four hours. I’ll be back.” He was cuffed and hauled to his feet, one of the agents reading him his rights. “I promise.”

“I love you, Kate.” Sam spoke over the agent, winking at you. Your answering smile returned immediately, heart hammering against your ribs for an entirely different reason.

The one thing that nagged at you was how in the hell either Cas or Sofia had seen you jerk Dean to the ground. You’d clearly seen them both disappear into the stairwell.

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