#i hope hes not reading this in case i ask to meet him again sometime. for business.

[hemlock-dreams]

What's Spidys relationship like with the other NY bound heros?

Got a bunch of other hero asks so it's time for Ye Olde Lore Dump!

Johnny and H!Spiderman have never gotten along- in either universe.

They don't even really have any real beef with each other, they're just two dudes who grate on each other's nerves for no particular reason- like two guys at a frat party who are just waiting for an excuse to duke it out.

There's just something about Johnny's playboy easy-come-and-go vibe that makes Spidey want to plant a fist in his face. And Johnny thinks Spiderman is a fucking buzzkill.

Black Widow and Spiderman have a good working relationship. He once helped her out of a tight spot in New York and he was fast, smart and discreet about it- so when she's got some ops she needs a second pair of hands for (under the table), she calls him.

Spiderman admires Nat's competence and single-minded focus in getting things done- they all appeal to the hunter in him. (And he's got a massive crush on her.)

They usually do one or two jobs every few months, and meet up for drinks at one of her safehouses. She's also knows his secret identity, because she's just that scary.

Logan and Peter are BFFs. For real. Logan was in town to help with some shit that ended up involved Deadpool and found himself at St. Margaret's.

He and Peter struck up a friendship that ends up with them going camping every couple of months for a week or so.

Logan likes Peter's no-bullshit sincerity and can tell he's had some shit(TM) go down in his life. Peter's easy to talk to and is good at reading the room. And Peter feels like Logan fills in that space Marko left as a friend/mentor/gruff bro figure.

Logan actually picks up when Peter calls. (most others he leaves on read).

Fun fact, he has no idea Peter is Spiderman.

And another fun fact, it's not Johnny Deadpool is jealous of, it's Logan.

Peter has a very complicated relationship with the Avengers.

On one hand, he knows what they do and what they stand for- on the other hand, he's got a real problem with authority figures. He's been invited to the Avengers multiple times, in both realities.

The answer is always blanket N.O. (And, depending on whether it's stark asking, accompanied by a giant middle finger). (Though he's reluctantly agreed to have an avenger's phone in case there are any massive threats they need help with).

As for the members:

Stark gets on his nerves like nothing else. He's not super easy to rile up, but Stark's playboy arrogance (real or not), way he talks down at people, the self-appointed authority, the entitlement, and, of course, the fucking hypocrisy- it makes Spidey go 0 to 'cashmeoutside' immediately.

He and the Captain sometimes get along, but mostly when the Captain isn't in one of his preachy, pontificating moments. They do work very well together in a combat capacity, but they don't have much to talk about.

Thor is fine, but completely outside of Spidey's sphere and also, difficult to work with given his powers.

Bruce and Spidey just don't have much to talk about, and once again, Hulk is way too loud and can't particularly coordinate when they have to team up.

In general, H!Spiderman gets along with the more 'loner' heroes like Murdock, Deadpool, Black Widow, Bucky, Logan, Clint and so on.

(Side note, imagine he said all these shots fired shit to the Avengers and they were like 'no? none of this happened?' because it's not the same reality and Spiderman has to go home and die from the cringe???) (no we'll let him be cool for this)

-----

Once again, thank you so much for the asks!! I really appreciate all the love this AU has gotten and I hope these answers satisfy!!!

[g8d]

dont remember if i ever was this angry at anyone before

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

[lovesuhng]

pink pen

w.c: 1.1k fluff

You didn't know how many hours you had been in that library; you were tired, but needed to study as much as necessary to do well on your final exams. Your concentration was broken when you felt a touch on your shoulder and then came face to face with one of the most handsome men you had ever seen at that university. His bright eyes, paired with the glasses that fit perfectly on his face, the black shirt that hugged his body nicely and the smile that lifted your worries instantly. You realized he had said something, but you had no idea what it was; after all, you had gotten lost in the almost perfect features of the man in front of you.

"Sorry, can you repeat, please?" You thought that must have sounded like an idiot at that moment, but you were sure when he chuckled before replying.

"Ah, okay. Do you have a pen to lend me? I know it's silly to come to study without bringing a pen, but I must have lost all the ones I had."

"Of course." You searched your pencil case and the only pen you found was a pink one filled with glitter and with a cat on top. You felt embarrassed to hand it to the man, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"How cute! This little cat looks like my Lucy. I promise I'll give it back as soon as I finish taking my notes."

And with that, the man went back to where he was studying, a table right next to yours. You wanted to finish studying quickly, but ended up taking longer than you should have because you kept finding yourself looking at him all the time. You had never seen him at the university before, but you would do anything to find out who he was.

That's how you ended up meeting Na Jaemin, a medical student well-known to many at the university, the very definition of sunshine and certainly one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. You were already used to going to the library, but your visits to the place became more frequent, both to study and in the hope of seeing the man again, although he rarely appeared there.

One day you were in front of the library, looking through the large glass doors searching for Jaemin, but found no sign of him.

"Are you looking for something?

You jumped and screamed, startled by the voice that spoke right next to your ear. You were once again so focused that didn't even see Jaemin approaching. The man was laughing at the situation you found yourself in.

"Do you really find it funny to scare others?"

"It's not my fault you're always lost in the clouds." You just rolled your eyes and Jaemin laughed again. "But you didn't answer my question."

Of course, you wouldn't answer that you were looking for him, so you said the first thing that came to your mind. "I... uh... was looking to see if there was any available table because I need to study, but there isn't, so I'll look for another place to study. Bye."

You wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but were stopped by Jaemin calling your name.

"How do you know my name?"

"Let's just say I found out." You couldn't help but be surprised by the possibility that Jaemin had asked someone about your. "There's a café nearby that's great for studying. Do you want to go with me? I was already heading there." You could swear Jaemin was nervous about making this invitation to you, but it was probably just your fertile mind creating a scenario that didn't exist.

After accepting the invitation, you were already at the café with their orders placed. Both of you chatted a bit and started studying or at least trying to. Sometimes Jaemin caught himself looking at you. He found it cute how focused you were while reading or when you got a little frustrated because you didn't understand your own notes.

The truth was that Na Jaemin had been watching you for a long time; he always found you beautiful, intelligent, and was really interested in getting to know you better. With everyone else, Jaemin was the most communicative person there was, but whenever he tried to approach you, something stopped him or he just froze.

"Oh..." you said in surprise, catching Jaemin's attention. "You're still using my pen."

"Am I?!" Jaemin said with fake surprise. "It brought me a lot of luck in the last tests, but I guess it's time to give it back..."

"No need!" You interrupted Jaemin, speaking a little louder and becoming embarrassed immediately after. "Since it brought you luck, you can keep it. It kind of suits you."

When tiredness took over, Jaemin insisted on accompanying you to your dormitory, even though you said a thousand times that you didn't need it. On the way, he explained extremely excitedly that he had three kittens, Luna, Luke, and the famous Lucy, and that although they were very similar, the kitten on the tip of the pen you had given him reminded him more of Lucy than her siblings. At that moment, you realized that you could listen to the man talk about the things he likes for hours and that he became even more adorable talking about them.

"Even though I'm allergic, I love kittens." you said when they reached the front of your dormitory.

"You could come to my apartment to meet my babies any day soon..." Jaemin noticed the invitation he had made. "I mean... if you want to, of course."

"I would love to, Jaemin."

Then Jaemin approached and held one of your hands. You were praying that Jaemin wouldn't notice how nervous you were about his touch.

"Can I confess something?" You just nodded. "That day in the library, I asked to borrow your pen because I wanted an excuse to talk to you." Surprise was written all over your face. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. Jaemin noticed this and continued. "I've seen you for weeks, always wanted to get closer to you, but never knew how, and today I made up this excuse to invite you to study just to get to know more about you."

"I've been looking for you all week, but I thought I'd never see you again in that huge university."

"So, does that mean..."

"That I would also like to know more about you..." you handed your phone to Jaemin, in a silent request for him to write down his number. As soon as he did that, you stood on tiptoe and kissed the man's cheek, who was surprised by your gesture. You were about to enter the building when you turned to Jaemin and said, "Oh... that pen suits you more than me."

At that moment, standing in front of your building with a silly smile on his face, Jaemin realized he was stupidly falling in love with the girl with the pink pen.

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Two - Angel

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

1.4K

Series Masterlist

READ PLS: hello my lovelies!! So, if you're here from the first part, pls either reread or take note that I have removed all connection to the bianchi family -- the brother is called Louis and the last name is Dupont

Max returned to that spot time and time again. He drove past the café almost every day for his first week in Monaco. Sometimes his angel was there, sometimes she wasn't.

This time, though, when Max drove past, she was there. Sitting in the café with a fruity smoothie in front of her, wearing another sun dress. This time it was green, the skirt slightly shorter and little white flowers decorating it.

Max parked up around the corner. He straightened his tie and climbed out of his car. Always dressed in a suit just in case anybody needed him. Just in case his father called him back to work.

He walked past her, paying no mind as he stepped through the café doors. But then he stepped back, something between a smirk and a smile on his face as he walked towards her.

"Hi," he said, his hand on the back of the chair opposite her own. "Can I ask what you ordered? I'm hoping to get something sweet."

She knew not to talk to strangers. Even before the death of her brother, she had been taught how much danger she was in at all times. Normally Charles would be here to take care of it, to glare a the stranger until they moved away.

But Charles wasn't here. This is what she got for sneaking out.

Thank God this guy was cute. That shouldn't have been a reason to answer him, but she did. She held up her plastic cup and shook it slightly, answering him. "Strawberry banana," she said and put the straw to her lips. Max watched as the pink liquid moved up the straw. "It's incredibly sweet."

Max couldn't stop his smile from widening. He leaned against the chair in front of him now, not just resting his hands on it. "Is it as sweet as you?"

Oh, he was flirting with her.

She couldn't hide her embarrassment. Every time a mad had tried to flirt with her before, Charles had shut them down and scared them off.

But this man, well Charles wasn't there to scare him off. For the first time in her life a man was openly flirting with her. He was flirting with her and it was making het all bashful. And maybe a little bit shy.

He held his large hand out towards her. She couldn't help but take notice of the watch on his wrist. It was no doubt expensive, but that wasn't a surprise, considering where they were. "I'm Max," he said, keeping his hand stretched out.

She took it, but her grip was loose as she told him her name. "But everybody calls me Bunny."

"Bunny," he responded, listening to the way it rolled off of his tongue. He liked it, liked how it sounded. But, if everybody called her Bunny, Max needed something else. He looked at her, really looked at her. Looked at the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the way her fingers, nails painted to match her dress, wrapped around her plastic cups. Looked at the way her pink lips wrapped around her straw. "Angel. I think it's more fitting."

Before Max could say anything further, his phone beeped. Saving her, he couldn't help but think. "Well, Angel, I have to go," he said, standing up straight. "Can I see you again?" 

She smiled as she nodded. "You know where to find me," she said and sipped the rest of her drink.

Max looked at her once more and walked away, down the street and back to his car. For the last week Max had been waiting for his father to call him back to work and, now that he had, he didn't want to leave. 

Max disappeared and she was alone. She sipped her smoothie and returned to her small sketchbook, pencil moving against the page. 

Suddenly, somebody slipped into the seat opposite her. She looked up, hoping it was Max, returning to flirt with her some more. But she was met with disappointment.

"Oh, Arthur," she said when she looked at the youngest Leclerc brother. "Am I in trouble?"

Arthur let out a small laugh and furrowed her brows at her. "You sneak out too often to get into trouble, Bun," he replied as he looked around. 

"Not because I spoke to that guy?" She asked innocently. 

But Arthur's face dropped. He may have been younger than her, but he was still tasked with keeping her safe. "Do you remember what this guy looked like, Bunny?" He asked as he grabbed her sketchbook and pulled her from her chair. 

She nodded her head as Arthur led her down the street. "He was cute," she said and let out a little laugh. 

But Arthur wasn't laughing as he looked around the streets. "You know that's not what I meant," he replied as he led her into her apartment building. "You know you're not meant to talk to strangers."

He dragged her up the stairs and pulled her into her apartment. Arthur immediately sat her down and checked every crevice of the apartment. He grabbed the knife from the kitchen and checked inside of the bedroom. 

Nothing, her apartment was clear. 

"Fucking hell, Bunny," Arthur spat. "You had me terrified."

She pouted as she fiddled with her fingers. "He was flirting with me, 'thur. I think he really thought I was cute," she mumbled and laid herself down on the sofa, pulling her legs into her chest. 

Arthur released a breath from his nose as he looked down at her. "Of course he did, Bunny," he whispered and ran his fingers through her hair. "It's just... Charles and I don't know this person. We don't know if they can be trusted.”

She didn't reply.

Eventually Charles came to her apartment. When he let himself in, Arthur retreated to the kitchen. To 'make dinner', he had said. (But, something you should know about the Leclerc brothers is that neither of them could cook very well. Arthur stopped by his mothers every night for dinner and Charles wouldn't eat unless Bunny cooked for him).

The first thing Charles did was stride over to her. He sat on the end of the couch and looked down at her. "I'm not mad you snuck out," he said. Which, although it sounded like it, it wasn't a good sign. If it wasn't because of the sneaking out, he was mad about something else.

She didn't look at him, instead staring at her coffee table. There was a light layer on dust on it, and she made a mental note to clean it later. After this stupid conversation.

"But, Bunny, I need you to tell me who this guy is. Did he give you a name? Any indication of who she was?"

She'd made the mistake of telling Arthur something, she wasn't going to do it again. She tried her best to shrug her shoulders from the position she was sitting in, but it didn't much work. "He just asked what flavour my smoothie was," she said and sat up slightly.

She couldn't tell if Charles believed her or not. He simply let out a sigh and patted her leg. "Wanna get take out?" He asked softly. "We can kick Arthur out, share Chinese food and watch a movie. How does that sound, Bun?"

Her arms were folded over her chest as she sat up and looked at him. "Are you paying for it?" She asked through a pout.

"Yeah, Bun, I'll pay for it," he said and went to the kitchen to grab the menus. At the same time he kicked Arthur out of the apartment (grateful that he hadn't started cooking any sort of monstrosity yet).

Charles knew exactly what he was going to be ordering, but he still handed her the menu. She asked for the same thing every time, and this time was no different. He was on the phone, ordering food within minutes.

He couldn't concentrate on much through the movie. Charles watched her, but he couldn't help but think of some faceless stranger, snatching her in the middle of the night.

He'd let her get away with sneaking out, even if he hadn't meant to. But not again. There was no way Charles was going to let her out of his sight now.

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[reidmaniac]

first date || spencer reid x fem!reader.

warnings: none just fluff.

a/n: im sorry for being gone for like forever guys, but here’s a short and simple first date story, it’s kind of a continuation of them meeting in the coffee shop, but you don’t have to read that to read this.

spencer reid stood nervously outside your apartment, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his thigh. he adjusted his glasses for the third time in as many minutes, his mind racing with facts about first dates, statistical probabilities of success, and the best ways to make a good impression. when you opened the door, his thoughts scattered as he took in your warm smile and the light in your eyes.

"hi spencer," you greeted, your voice soft and welcoming. "you look great."

he blushed, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "thank you. you look beautiful," he replied, his words sincere. "i brought you these." he handed you a small bouquet of wildflowers, their vibrant colors reflecting the excitement and hope in his heart.

"they're lovely," you said, your smile widening as you accepted the flowers. "let me put these in some water, and then we can go."

spencer nodded, watching as you moved gracefully into your apartment. he took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and enjoy the evening. it was, after all, just a date—a chance to get to know you better and share a few moments together.

you returned quickly, flowers now safely in a vase. "all set," you announced. "where are we going?"

"there's a little bistro downtown that has great reviews," spencer said, his voice gaining confidence. "i thought we could try it."

"sounds perfect," you replied, linking your arm with his as you stepped outside. "lead the way."

the walk to the bistro was filled with easy conversation, spencer's nervousness gradually melting away in the warmth of your company. he told you about his latest case, carefully omitting the more gruesome details, and you shared stories from your work, your laughter a soothing balm to his anxiety.

at the bistro, you were seated at a cozy table near the window, the soft glow of candlelight creating an intimate atmosphere. spencer found himself relaxing even more, his natural curiosity and enthusiasm taking over as he asked you about your favorite books, movies, and hobbies.

"i didn't know you liked science fiction," he said, his eyes lighting up. "i have so many recommendations for you."

you chuckled, delighted by his passion. "i can't wait to hear them all," you said. "but only if you let me recommend some of my favorites, too."

"deal," spencer agreed, his smile wide and genuine. he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. "i'm really glad we did this."

"me too," you replied, your touch lingering on his hand. "i've been looking forward to this for a while.

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, shared stories, and the comforting realization that this was only the beginning. as spencer walked you back to your apartment, he felt a sense of contentment settle over him.

"i had a wonderful time tonight," he said as you reached your door. "thank you."

"so did i," you replied, stepping closer. "we should do this again sometime."

spencer's heart skipped a beat as you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his. the kiss was sweet and brief, but it held the promise of many more to come.

"i'd like that," he said, his voice filled with warmth and certainty. "goodnight, y/n."

"goodnight, spencer," you whispered, your smile lingering even after the door closed behind you.

as spencer walked away, he couldn't help but feel that tonight was the start of something wonderful. and for once, he didn't need statistics or probabilities to tell him that. he just knew.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

My hand is resting on Ash’s chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and I’m grateful he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.

Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.

His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.

I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet he’d love them, want to study them and draw them.

The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. “What are these from?” I ask.

He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, “They’re from a hysterectomy.”

“Oh. So, you can’t—?”

“Mm-mm, you can’t get me pregnant or anything.”

“Good to know. So, if you want kids one day, you’d just have to adopt?”

“Not necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, I’d just need a surrogate.”

“Really? Do you think you’ll do it? Have kids?”

“Oh, god, I don’t know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. It’s not really something I’m worried about right now.”

“Makes sense,” I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”

His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, “Atlas…”

I know. I know it’s not fair. I can’t say things like that if we’re “just friends”. He doesn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over his face. But look at us, we’ve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls I’d built up are crumbling around me, and I’m not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldn’t, I have to ask, “Will you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?”

Putting his arms around me, he smiles, “Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"

“Yes, actually, that would be amazing.”

“Okay, I’ll go get some.”

“Thanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, it’s just out the door to your left.”

In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself… just in case. Thankfully, I don’t stink yet, but I’ve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that I’m certain I’ll be ripe by morning.

I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if it’s a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.

When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out.  I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. “Thank you,” he says, breathless.

“Are you tired?” I ask.

“Not really, why?”

“Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“That shower?” he points to the door he just came out of, “Is there even enough room for two people?”

“Not really,” I shake my head with a smile, knowing it’s ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.

He considers for a moment, searching my face as if he’s waiting for me to tell him I’m joking. When I don’t, he replies with a shrug, “Fuck it, sure.”

Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. It’s intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into people’s routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.

When I ask him why, he says, “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m drowning.” And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasn’t for his mother.

We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. “Jesus, look at you,” he says, “maybe I should take up rock climbing.”

I let out a small laugh, “It’s fun. I could teach you.”

“Nah, I don’t think it’s for me. It’s a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.”

“Not tonight, I don’t.” I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, “I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.” He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, “Not that I have anything to wear anyway.”

“I would’ve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.”

He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.

After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. It’s brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, “If you want,” I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.

He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, “You do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?”

I shake my head to reassure him, “No, they’re Dawn’s. She’s super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. She’s almost always carrying one around. There’s like ten of them down there, she won’t care if you take one.”

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re just… you’re really nice.” I can’t quite read the expression on his face when he says this, it’s almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.

In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s purely selfish.”

He gives me a small smile, “Oh yeah? My breath is that bad?”

“No, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer you’ll stay.” Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I don’t know why, it just felt natural to do so, like I’d done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I don’t recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback.  I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, knowing now what’s making him sad. I’m not acting like a friend; I’m acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I can’t give him that. Though, I’m starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like it’s taking more effort not to. “We should get some sleep,” I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.

I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m facing him when he comes to bed. I don’t trust myself, and I feel like I’ve done enough damage already. He’s probably upset with me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.

I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I don’t know why he’s chosen to be so sweet to me, but I’m grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.

Prev // Next

[arjwrites]

Hi there! Found your account through a moot and wanted to maybe request a Sam x nephilim!reader where he finds out that she had been keeping that she was a nephilim a secret to try and protect him, but the truth comes out when they're on a hunt together? Maybe with established relationship?

Heaven Hellbent- Sam Winchester x Nephilim!Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, Sam discovers a secret you've been keeping for years. Part 1 of the series!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: F!reader! Canon-level violence and language!

A/N: THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE ON THIS! I literally loved this request so much but really desperately wanted to do it justice, so it took me a little while. Seriously, this was one of my most re-written fics so far. I really wanted to finally get something out to you, but I have a lot more to write on this topic so I AM MAKING IT A SERIES!! This is a bit out of canon context but I really really hope you still enjoy, thank you again for such an amazing prompt and for your patience!

Ever since you had come into Sam's life, things felt lighter. You were this warm, radiating presence that had wrapped itself around every facet of his life. Sometimes, when you lay together late at night, when he would trace your body with his fingers and plant soft kisses on your forehead, he would silently pray- he still did that from time to time- addressing God, fate, the universe, or sometimes simply to whom it may concern, thanking anyone he could for the miracle of you. 

You were one of the most skilled hunters Sam had ever encountered. It felt like even having your presence on a hunt was an asset- when you were around, cases were solved quicker, monsters went down easier, and everyone walked away with far fewer injuries. He expressed this to you once, in your early years together.

“It just feels like everything clicks when you’re around. How is it that you make everything so easy?” He had asked you, eyes so full of admiration and innocence. Sweet, clueless Sammy. 

“Hmm, I must be a pretty serious good luck charm then, sweetheart. Better keep me around,” you had purred, eliminating the space that separated you in a sensual attempt to change the subject. 

Sam chuckled. “I like to think of you as our little guardian angel. My little angel.” Sam ducked down, meeting your lips with a soft, open-mouthed kiss, but not before his words sent a pang of anxiety through your body. It took a moment for you to reciprocate Sam’s kiss- you had to focus all your energy on keeping the lump that had formed in your throat from spilling to the surface.

Hiding your true identity from Sam was the hardest thing you had ever done, and yet the easiest choice you had ever made. You had been with him for years and had watched him and Dean go through so many horrible things. There were so many times you had wished you could step in- so many nightmares that could have been avoided if you had used your powers. But being a nephilim, you couldn’t. Because if you had, you would’ve had Heaven hellbent on your trail. And not just yours- anyone you had ever known or loved. Just the knowledge of your existence was a ticking time bomb, and the last thing you wanted to do was put yet another target on either Winchester’s back. 

It wasn’t without hard work that you had gone unnoticed this long. Keeping under the radar had been much easier before you had met Sam. You had spent more years than you could count traveling, reading, learning, anything to fill your seemingly endless time. You didn’t use your powers, didn’t meddle in matters of Heaven or Hell, you just kept a low profile. That was, until you crossed paths with two of the highest profiles out there- Sam and Dean Winchester.

Falling in love with Sam was the last thing you had ever planned to do. But the more time you spent with him, the more you were drawn to him. You marveled at the fact that anyone could meet him and not fall in love- a man so inherently good, so kind, practically an angel in his own right. Sometimes, it felt as though there were three forces that worked to keep you alive- your soul, your grace, and your love for Sam Winchester, all three intertwined, braided together to tether you to the Earth. 

So you stayed. You fought alongside Sam and Dean through every battle they faced. You did everything you could, finding ways to use your powers that would go undetected- by heaven and by the Winchesters. You could weaken demons and cast protection towards the boys, speed their healing subtly so that they wouldn’t notice. But there would be times when it would be far too dangerous to even let a glimpse of your powers show. Those were times that you would watch in agony as the man you loved faced horrors beyond your imagination. And those were the times you swore to protect him whenever you possibly could. 

Sometimes, however, things wouldn’t go to plan. You and the Winchesters were hunting a demon that had been causing trouble in a nearby town. Dean had suggested the three of you split up to try to catch the demon by surprise. You had protested, but the moment he barked the order, him and Sam had split, leaving you behind. You cursed to yourself, silently willing that you would find the demon first so you could smite him with ease and not risk either brother’s safety. 

Unfortunately, it hadn’t quite worked out that way. It had been well over an hour with no luck as you searched the stretch of abandoned warehouses. And neither you nor Dean could reach Sam’s phone. Fear set into your heart, a cocktail of worry and grace coursing through your veins. Your whole body was buzzing- normally, you would stop to calm it to avoid revealing yourself, but a horrible intuition left you no choice but to use it as fuel.

Meanwhile, Sam’s eyes blinked open, the dull pain in his head sharpening as he regained contact with his senses. There was a rope tied around him, anchoring him to a rickety chair and rubbing abrasively against his biceps. 

“Sam Winchester. Good to see ya, champ. Rare to find you without your partner in crime these days.” Blinking back the spots in his vision, Sam’s eyes focused on the man in front of him- scratch that, the demon, as revealed by a quick flash of black.

Sam, struggling against his restraints, retorted. “Dean will be here-” 

“Who said anything about Dean?” The demon cut him off, cocking his head. “I’m talking about your other little… friend. How’s it been, running all around town with that pet abomination of yours?” His smile was sickening, and there was something sinister about his words. He knew something Sam didn’t, and that was never a good thing.

“What are you talking about,” Sam hissed through clenched teeth.

“Nice try, Sam. Better get talking.” The demon sent Sam’s chair flying back into the wall to punctuate his command.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” The demon pulled Sam’s chair back to him.

“Oh, you really don’t know? Scout’s honor?” He paced a lap around Sam, lurking over him as spite radiated off his every stride. “That crafty little bitch. That’s too bad, I was hoping to ask you a few questions… I guess I have no use for you, but why not break the news before I kill you? Secrets don’t make friends, right?” He knelt, drawing himself eye to eye with Sam, before practically spitting the words. “That pretty little girlfriend of yours is really a-” 

Before the demon could finish the thought, he was flat against the wall and screaming his way back to Hell. Sam, still tied to the chair, had a view limited to the empty room in front of him and the vessel the demon once possessed, now slumped in a pile on the floor. He released a breath, having watched the danger dissipate, before tensing back up. Whatever was behind him was powerful. He could feel every hair standing up on the back of his neck as his pulse began to pick up rapidly. Something was screaming inside him, begging him to get out, get away. 

“Oh, Sammy. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” called the creature from behind him. The words hung heavy in the air, tinged with heartbreak. Sam froze. He knew the origin of the voice, but it couldn’t be. He whispered your name and you came running. 

“Sam, sweetheart. Are you okay?” You knelt to the floor in front of him, unsheathing your knife to cut away his binds. 

Sam simply stared in response, mouth slightly agape and confusion nestling into his furrowed brow. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“Cat’s out of the bag, I guess. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want it to happen this way.” Guilt weighed heavy on you, as if you had done something horribly wrong. No, it was always to keep him safe, you reminded yourself. 

Sam sat dumbfounded a moment longer. “What are you?” he finally coughed out. It was as if asking the question had triggered his brain to process the situation, and he tensed in preemptive self-defense. 

This was it. No going back now. “I’m a nephilim, Sam.” Saying the words out loud felt like lifting the world off your own shoulders and watching it crash down all around you.

Your confession melted Sam’s expression into a series of reactions. You watched him work through the idea as if he was tossing your heart back and forth in his hands, weighing its pros and cons. 

“Please tell me you understand why I didn’t tell you, Sam. Why I couldn’t-”

Sam’s tone was tense- his lack of reaction almost made things worse. “There’s no way you didn’t tell me about this. I’ve- we’ve known you for-”

“For years, Sam! Before you knew there were even angels, before Dean went to Hell, before you had any idea about the bigger picture! That just goes to show you, Sam- I’m not part of any of this! I’ve kept my head down for thousands of years, not raising any flags or drawing any attention to myself. And then I met you- I met you and I had to love you, Sam, I had to. And then I had to watch you go through so much pain and suffering and all I wanted to do was help however I could but I-”

“But you couldn’t. Because it would put you in danger.” If Sam had landed on a stance, you sure couldn’t decipher it. His voice was soft and gentle, but his jaw flexed and his expression narrowed.  

“It would put you in danger too, Sam. And Dean. And everyone else.” Your response was quick, calculated. You had played this conversation out too many times in your head. Except you never had thought very far beyond the why didn’t you tell me and into the well what the hell do we do now? 

There was silence for a beat.

“The demon knew.” Sam spoke somberly, like he was hand-delivering you a death sentence.

“And now you know,” you contended, defeated. A heartbroken breath wracked through your body, shuddering out of your lungs as you stabilized yourself to avoid teetering over. It was like the wind had been knocked out of you- like you and the man you loved most in the whole world had been plucked from safety and tossed out into open season.

“So what does this mean?” Sam’s tone sat on the fence between concern for your apparent emotions and the fear and confusion that had characterized the rest of your exchange. 

“It means you can’t tell a soul, Sam. Not Dean, not anyone. Anyone who knows is at risk. And it means I… should probably leave.” Your stomach churned as you spoke. All of your worst fears were materializing in front of you. Try as you might, even your powers couldn’t zap them away. Your eyes rose to meet Sam’s, and finally, you could read his expression with clarity.

“No,” Sam shook his head.

“Sam, I can’t put you in danger-”

“And I can’t lose you!” You recoiled at his outburst. “I can’t lose you.” The second utterance was softer, bearing a greater resemblance to the sweet words Sam often shared with you. 

“Sam, if anyone finds out…” you pleaded. As much as it broke your heart, you couldn’t bear to put Sam in any more danger.

“They won’t. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.” Sam’s gaze was intense as he studied you. It was as if he was learning you all over again- like you were someone brand new to him. And yet, you could still see the love in his eyes. You were still you, after all. This was just a new layer of you. Sam had promised to love you, all of you. And if nothing else, he was a man of his word. He lifted a hand to your cheek and ran a thumb over your cheekbone, as if maybe you might feel different under his touch. And when you didn’t, his last scraps of hesitance melted away. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“Just… promise me not to tell Dean until we figure this out.”

“Promise not to tell me what?”

[dandelionfairyyy]

30 hours J. H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x female!reader

Warnings: mention of injuries and violence, swearing, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, possible bad writing and mistakes

Wordcount: 4,076

A/N: please be kind, this is the first oneshot I wrote in a year or two and I am still super unhappy with this, but keep working on it would just make it worse I think. And my friends said I should just post it, so … Also, English is not my first language, please keep that in mind while reading. I hope you’ll like it anyway

Now without further ado… I present to you:

30 hours

You rub your face sleepily as you slowly wake up.

As you feel the weight of an arm around your waist, you can't help but smile.

You turn to Jay, whose arm is pressing you against him.

What started as a friendship has become so much more. And yesterday he finally asked you to marry him.

Gently you trace the contours of his face with your finger. Memories of last night come flooding back and you bite your lower lip as you think of Jay treating you to a little corner cafe before you took a walk along the Chicago River and him finally getting down on one knee in front of you.

Your eyes fall on the beautiful silver ring with the little stone set in it, on your finger.

"Morning," you say as you see Jay waking up.

"Morning," he replies in a raspy voice, giving you a smile that takes your breath away. "Sleep well?"

You nod before reaching a little further towards him and placing your lips on his.

God, you still can't believe that this wonderful man is now your fiancé.

Happily, you smile into the kiss and slightly part your lips for him. You feel his tongue gently nudging against yours and you feel yourself catapulted right back to last night. What his tongue had done to you...

You can't hold back a soft moan at the memory and you feel his knowing smile in your kiss.

As it becomes more intimate, Jay rolls over you and....

Your kiss is abruptly interrupted when a cell phone rings somewhere in the room.

Last night, on the way from the door to the bedroom, you had spread your clothes anywhere in the flat. His trousers had apparently made it into the bedroom.

"Don't answer it," you plead, wrapping your arms around his neck, knowing it's Jay's phone because Intelligence most likely has a new lead in the current case and he needs to get to the precinct. "Let's just stay in bed for a week," you suggest, with little hope of agreement, though.

Jay leans down a little towards you and kisses you intimately again for a few seconds before pulling away and going in search of his jeans. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm afraid I can't do that."

You sit up with a sigh as he gets out of bed and fishes the phone out of his pocket.

As expected, there's a new lead that needs to be followed up.

So you get up to make breakfast to go for him as he heads into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Wearing only one of Jay's t-shirts, you are standing at the kitchen counter pouring coffee into a to-go mug when you feel your fiancé standing behind you.

His hands are on your hips as he plants a kiss on your cheek.

"My angel," he murmurs and you turn your head so that your lips meet. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Once or twice..." you reply with a smirk.

"So not often enough."

You press the sandwich and the to-go mug of coffee into his hand and push him towards the door.

"I love you, too. And now you have to go. Work needs to be done."

It's Saturday, so you don't have to work and can devote yourself to other things, like grocery shopping or housekeeping.

Jay steals one last kiss before disappearing out the door with a "love you".

Heavens, even though you've known each other for five years and been a couple for three, you're still as much in love with this man as you were at the beginning of your relationship.

At first it was hard for you to come to terms with the fact that Jay often has to work late and sometimes he has to leave just because of work. But by now you've come to terms with it and Jay always makes it up to you in one way or another. Either with a romantic date, or little presents he gives you, and of course with the love he gives you every single day.

Lost in thought, you finally make your way to the supermarket. But soon you wish you had just stayed in bed with Jay.

"Y/N?", you hear an unknown voice behind you and turn around in confusion.

You don't know the man standing in front of you. But he seemed to know your name. He held out a wallet to you. "You just lost this," he says.

Unsure, you take it from him and look inside. Indeed, it contains your driver's license, your bank card, cash... and yet it is not your wallet. You've never seen this thing before in your life.

What the fuck?

You are about to reply that it is not your wallet when everything happens really fast. A black van pulls up next to you and the man who handed you the wallet before now pushes you backwards so that you lose your balance. Someone behind you catches you and you are finally thrown into the van. Your head hits the wall and an unpleasant hammering makes its way to the back of your head.

Doors slam and two seconds later the van speeds on.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what has just happened.

You have just been kidnapped.

That afternoon, Jay comes home in excitement at the sight of his fiancée in his arms again.

The current case, which has kept them on the go for a fortnight and got Jay out of bed this morning, has now been solved and he just wants to be with you, eat something and sleep.

But when he enters the flat, you are not there.

He checks all the rooms in the flat, but you are not to be found.

Are you with friends and forgot to tell him? Normally you always let him know if you're meeting someone, because you know that otherwise his detective brain will spin banal theories about what might have happened to you.

With a frown, he pulls out his mobile phone and tries to call you. But he is sent straight to voicemail. After the third attempt, he gives up and calls your best friend instead, deeply hoping that you are with her, or at least that she knows where you are.

But with her, too, nothing.

Now Jay is really worried.

Worried, he calls Ruzek, who is a good friend of yours and through whom you and Jay met in the first place, hoping that he is still in the bullpen for paperwork.

Jay was lucky.

"Hey man, what is it?" asked Adam exuberantly.

"Can you ping Y/N's phone? She's not there, I can't reach her, and I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Just a minute," Adam replies, recognising the concern and urgency in Jay's voice.

Shortly afterwards, Adam gives an address of where your cell phone was the last time before it was turned off.

With a quick thank you and a promise to let him know when he has found you, the two colleagues and friends on the phone say goodbye and Jay gets back into his truck to drive to the address.

It wasn't far and as he got out his heart stopped for a moment.

A wallet with your drivers licence is lying on the small footpath of the side street and a few metres away is your phone, the screen shattered. There are black tyre marks on the road from a sharp braking.

Jay pulls out his phone again and calls Adam for a second time.

"Found her?" he asks hopefully, but Jay doesn't even let him speak. "Y/N's been kidnapped."

Jay knows his colleague has just sat up straighter.

"Jay, are you sure?"

"Yes." Jay describes what he sees in front of him and then asks Adam to call the team together.

Less than fifteen minutes later they were all standing on the scene.

"Okay, you know what to do, check PODs, residents' CCTV and ask residents if they saw anything. Jay's girlfriend, one of ours, has been kidnapped. And we're going to get that asshole!" the sergeant ordered his team before putting a comforting hand on Jay's shoulder and saying, "We're going to find Y/N and she's going to get through this. She's tough. You'll see your girlfriend again."

"Fiancée, to be exact," Jay replies, but Voight hadn't heard him anymore.

Back in the bullpen, with all the evidence and statements from the residents, they create a board with all the facts so far. Photos of the skid marks, the wallet and the mobile phone. In the middle hangs a photo of the victim. He has seen this board so many times before, with disturbing and nightmare-inducing images. But now it is different.

Worse. Creepier. Because this time there's a photo of you hanging there.

Jay is standing in front of it, looking at it.

The photo doesn't do you justice, he thinks. The sparkle in your eyes is not there and the smile on your lips is nowhere near as beautiful as he knows it. Everything seems so dull and lifeless ...

An elderly lady watched the abduction from her kitchen window, but thought nothing more of it. However, she was already somewhat demented. Therefore, her statement is less reliable, but her description, apart from a few exceptions, matches those of the other residents of the street.

According to her, a man spoke to you, then a black van appeared, then flew away and you were gone.

Jay ran an agitated hand through his hair. He had to concentrate now. Intelligence had already solved a case with less clues, so they could solve this one too.

At the stroke of midnight, his phone buzzes, showing that he has received a video message.

He plays it while the others look over his shoulder.

There you sit tied to a chair with your cheek visibly reddened and a small gash on your cheekbone.

"Jay. The three wankers in front of me ..." you get kicked in the shin as you insult your captors as wankers and you curse a soft "ouch" before continuing. "Anyway, they want you to turn yourself in, Jay. A trade. I get released and they take you in exchange. In 30 hours, you'll ... what? I can't read the scribbling ...” your look shifts to one of your captors. “If you're going to make me read rubbish like that, at least write it neatly enough so I can read it dramatically ..." you grumble, and Adam has to suppress a snort. It would be funny if it wasn't so serious.

One of the kidnappers gave the address you couldn't read before. "Right there... That's where you'll be standing in thirty hours, unarmed. They will release me and take you with them. Should you not do it, they will kill me."

Your eyes shift from what you are supposed to be reading out and you look at one of your captors. "Oh, go bury yourselves, or throw yourselves in front of a train, I don't mind ..." You wrinkle your nose slightly at the last sentence.

Then one of the kidnappers speaks again, "Detective, follow our instructions or your little friend will die. Know that this is revenge for the death of my brother."

While the kidnapper is still speaking, you shout, "Jay, don't do it! Don't make the trade!"

You catch a slap, your head flies from the punch to the side, and then the video ends.

It's only when he exhales now that Jay realises he's been holding his breath. As did the rest of the team.

Adam made the comment that you're pretty brave to be so defiant to the kidnappers. Or you're tired of living. It's going to be one of those two.

Over the next few hours, Intelligence investigates whose brother it might be, who was capable of such a thing, and where those, as you called them, wankers, might be holding you.

But when nothing new comes of it, Voight sends everyone home for the time being to get some sleep and to be able to continue working in new freshness. After all, they still have 27 hours.

But Jay doesn't want to go home. He could never sleep there now.

In your bed, knowing that you're sitting somewhere kidnapped, tied to a chair....

Which is why Adam finally offers to take him with him, so that he can at least get a little sleep on the couch there.

20 hours until the exchange:

By now they've figured out who wants to see your fiancé suffer.

A few weeks ago Jay had shot someone, Paul Lancaster to be precise, on a case after he in turn had opened fire on him.

Jay had escaped with a bruise at the time due to the vest, but Paul had died on the way to hospital. He had hit well.

Now Paul's brother, Jeremy Lancaster, seemed to want revenge on him and this man had quite an interesting sheet. Jeremy had been charged several times for smaller felonies and had served two years in Stateville for aggravated assault. But even though Intelligence now knows who's holding you, they still have no clue where Jeremy and his two accomplices might be holding you.

Frustrated, Jay now throws a stack of papers against the wall and rubs his face in dissolution.

He's on the verge of giving up, of just turning himself in. He'd rather die than let them hurt you more than they already do.

They went through everything again, repeated all the residents' statements, looked at all the traffic camera recordings, but they got nowhere. The van had disappeared at some point at a corner without video surveillance.

"Play the video again," Jay finally asks Kim, who is currently at her computer trying to draw any clues from it as to where you might be.

"Jay ..." she started, but he interrupted her and took it upon himself to play the video from the beginning.

At the end, when you wrinkle your nose, he pauses the video.

"There! Y/N always wrinkles her nose when she bluffs while playing. I always tease her about it ... because she looks so cute at that moment and it annoys her when I say that, ... that was a hint ... She was giving us a hint."

Kim rewinds a few seconds and plays it again.

Burying themselves ... jumping in front of a train ...

They play the video again and again.

"Train ... bury ... buried train ... underground!", Jay finally combines and writes it immediately on the case board.

Seventeen hours until the exchange:

If they didn't find you soon, Jay knew, he'd turn himself in. No matter what you had said, no matter what Voight will say. He can't let you get hurt.

There are seventeen hours left to find you, and Jay can barely think straight when they find out Jeremy is in an on-off relationship with an Angelina Perry. Maybe she can help.

God, Jay hoped so much.

Adam and Kim bring the girlfriend to the station and Jay watches the questioning through the mirror, his partner, Hailey standing beside him, watching him with concern. She knows how much Jay loves you. Every time Ruzek brings up one of the stories from your childhood and your name comes up, his eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. But now there was nothing but worry and fear.

"What am I doing here? I don't know any Y/N," Angelina clarifies.

"But you know Jeremy Lancaster. Don't you?" asks Kim, unimpressed.

"Y-yes? Why? Did something happen to him?"

"No ...", Adam picks up, but Jay is no longer listening, because he has just received another video message.

Alarmed, he looks at Hailey, who nods once and finally gets Adam and Kim out of the interrogation room. Meanwhile, Jay gets Voight out of his office and has Kevin run the video from his phone onto the computer.

With held breath, the team watches the video.

You are still sitting in the chair with your head hanging, probably unconscious. Your hair hides the view at your face, but kindly Jeremy grabs your hair ungently and pulls it back so that he lifts your head and the team can see you properly. Your face is swollen and you have a laceration on your forehead, a bruise is starting to form on your left eye.

"Fuck!" curses Jay, even before Jeremy has begun to speak.

"Hello Detective. A real fighter you got yourself into, I'm looking forward to making you feel what I did to her before I shoot you in front of her like you shot my brother. Or would you prefer I shoot her in front of you?"

Jay's blood boils in his veins. He is so angry at this monster of a man called Jeremy Lancaster for laying a hand on you, an absolute innocent.

With his phone in hand, he storms into the interrogation room where Jeremy's girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever is sitting.

With a slam, the door shuts behind Jay. Angelina flinches in fright and looks at the frustrated and distraught detective in front of her.

The rest of the team have followed him and are now watching through the one-sided mirror.

"You better tell me now where your boyfriend likes to hide. Because if he kills her, I'll hold you responsible too!" he threatens, knowing very well that he couldn't do that. But he just wants to have you back, to hold you in his arms again and hear from you that everything will be all right again.

With these words, he slams the mobile phone down on the table and lets the video play.

Angelina looks shocked and tears glisten in her eyes as she watches the video.

"That ... that's Jeremy? Wh-why?"

"His brother Paul messed up and got himself killed. Jeremy blames me and has been holding my fiancée for over 13 hours now. God knows what he's doing to her. And every minute that goes by, he could hurt her. So if you don't want to be responsible for murder, you'd better think really hard about where your boyfriend could be hiding with her!" he rages and Angelina flinches again, however Jay can see that she is starting to think.

The team, watching the whole thing through the mirrored glass, are quite flummoxed. Did Jay just say you were his fiancée?

They all caught your complicated love story, how Jay initially thought you and Adam were a couple and ended up with Erin. How you buried your crush on Jay deep inside when you found out. How you then held him when Erin left, dumped him, and how you both had to get your asses kicked by Kevin and Kim first before you confessed your love to each other.

They know how much Jay loves you and how much you love him. And they have taken you to their hearts as well. As Voight had said, you are one of them, even if you don't work for them. You are their friend. It takes all the more out of them now to know that Jay is not only about to lose his fiancée, but that they could lose their friend.

"Did he ever say anything about an underground or anything?" His voice was no longer loud and threatening now, but quiet and desperate.

One could see it in Angelina's face as she thought of something before she said, "The old underground warehouse...he...he told me once that when he was a kid he used to play in the factory hall with his brother. Maybe that's where they are ... he is ... was ... really close with his brother." With that said, she looks hopefully at the detective in front of her. He nods and finally leaves the interrogation room.

The team leaves the room at the same time as Jay, from where they have been watching everything.

They would all like to say something to him, but they all know that nothing they could say would make anything better.

Sixteen hours until the exchange:

The team storms the building from all three entrances.

Jay and Hailey, Kevin and Kim, and Adam and Voight.

Flash grenades are thrown, "Chicago PD! Drop your weapon! ... Hands in the air! ... on your knees!" are shouted from all sides and Jeremy and his two accomplices had to admit defeat.

Jay's gaze wanders searchingly down the hall and ....

There you lie. On the floor, hands and feet still tied to the fucking chair, not moving. From his position he cannot see if you are still breathing. Your hair covers your face, but you seem unconscious. At least Jay hopes you are only unconscious and nothing more.

God, he hopes so badly that you're still alive.

While the rest of the team arrest Jeremy and his accomplices, Jay gets down on his knees next to you, unties you and frees you from the goddamn chair. You don't move and anxiously he feels your pulse.

It is there, but very weak. But he can't feel relief yet, because as he brushes your hair out of your face, his examining gaze sees not only your wrists, chafed and blue from the ropes, but also your face. A nasty wound is emblazoned on your forehead. One half of your face is covered in blood, the other is red, swollen and a black eye is already forming. What had they done to you?

"Fuck ...", he curses softly and searches frantically for something to press carefully onto the wound.

By now Adam is standing next to him. In his face the same concern as in Jay's when he sees your bruised body and your hair, which is sticky with your blood but still shines moistly. "5021-Ida, shots fired by the offender and the police, offender in custody, one female victim down, multiple trauma to the head and body, roll an ambo to my current location asap," he quickly relays through his radio to the dispatcher.

You hadn't lost much blood yet, but head injuries were always treacherous.

Jay keeps mumbling that you should hang on. That an ambulance is on its way and that you should just hold on a little longer.

Seconds that feel like hours pass.

You hear Jay's voice as if from far away, begging you not to leave him, to open your eyes, to stay with him. You want to follow his plea so much that it seems to tear you apart, but your body no longer obeys you. Several times you try to speak, to say that you hear him, that you are there after all and that you are not planning to go anywhere else. But nothing. Not a single sound comes from your lips. You can't even move your fingers to show that you are still alive, that you can hear him....

Instead, you fight the complete blackness that threatens to overwhelm you. You cling to the love you feel for Jay where you know he returns it. You cling to his voice that seems to fade.

They always say that when you die, a warm white light appears to you, awaiting and welcoming you.

But it is the other way around. The light that holds you begins to shrink and is taken over further and further by the darkness, the blackness, the nothingness. Jay's voice is further and further away. You can barely hear him, barely understand what he is saying. And yet you know that he still commands you to hang on and tells you how much he loves you and can't lose you, that he needs you.

Then suddenly you hear female voices reciting foreign words. "V-fib" is the last thing you hear before there's nothing left. Just the empty, lonely, cold, blackness and you. You wonder if this is what death feels like.

At least you could die knowing what true love feels like. What it feels like to love someone more than yourself and to be loved just as much.

You had the chance to meet Jay and those few years with him were the best of your life.

Jay ...

Your last thought belongs to him, to him alone, and that yesterday morning you didn't say the last "I love you" back.

And then there was nothing. No light, no thought, no blackness. Just nothing.

back to masterlist

[darling-i-read-it]

Hi how are you? 😃 May I request some headcanons of RE characters (you choose, i can't choose because I like most of them 😅 ) with a reader who worked 13 days straight and has insomnia so they're pretty much in autopilot or zombie mode at the end of that but are more polite then usual? I hope I don't have to work that many days in a row again 😩

HI yes i can relate as someone who doesn't know how to say no to picking up shifts. my record is only ten days thought, rest in peace my love that sounds HORRIFIC. i chose some guys at random (along with chris and leon, my favorites lol) i hope you enjoy!

Chris Redfield

literally him too

this man has never known a good nights sleep since he was like 21 and even then it was kind of rocky

he has less sympathy because of it. to him it's kind of normal

he works like no one else has ever worked because he cares about his cause. it's a bit hard for him to understand that not everyone does in the case of work

he feels bad seeing you this way though and he knows it

he may have done it before but seeing you go through the zombie nature was affecting him now. you were his person, his safe spot, and you weren't safe

once the sympathy comes it doesn't leave

calls your boss!!!!

on your phone!!!

he's so scary. he's a scary big man. tall. big. large. so large.

they gave you three days off in a row actually

they also mentioned to not have your boyfriend call on your phone again because of professional reasons and it wasn't until then that you knew he even called

you were so out of it you hadn't checked your outgoing calls (and why would you?)

anything he can do to help, he will. just ask it of him.

The two of you sat in front of the TV. His arm was over your shoulder as you leaned against him, more comfortable now than you had been in weeks.

"You hungry?" he questioned, glancing down at you.

"I could eat."

"Anything specific?" You glanced up at him, meeting your eyes. He could read your look. You wanted him to go and get food. He narrowed his eyes, playfully. "It's late."

"I know. I'm being silly."

"Well I didn't say no."

Leon Kennedy

Leon is the most likely on this list to also have some sort of insomnia. He can't even talk against you either because he has the same exact issues

working too much, not sleeping enough

he drinks sometimes till he can't feel the effects of either

so who is he to say that you should go to bed or that working so much was destructive?

despite it being hypocritical, he sees the overall exhaustion within you

you're suddenly quietly polite, you have nothing in you to fight against him, even when he makes his normal banter and you don't return it

that's what really affected him. until you got rest, you could never really be back to him. your polite tired nature made him want to protect you. you were his, he couldn't let you go on like this

he showed up at your work

he didn't chew out your boss, no, he just 'brought you lunch' and then politely demanded that you be given two days off

he may have brought a weapon. it wasn't very good of him but then again, neither was having someone work 13 days straight

you promised him that you would do it for him next time

"What about when you go off to Japan for a month and I know you aren't sleeping?" you questioned. You sat in bed together, eyes heavy, no work in the morning.

"If you were in Japan I couldn't know if you were sleeping either," he pointed out.

"I feel like you would find a way." He smiled, that charming gentle smile. Comforting, homey.

"You're right. I would." You rolled your eyes.

Carlos Oliveira

was a fierce advocate for you taking a day off and is mid contact with your boss

he doesn't care if it was your choice. he really doesn't. he loves but you but damn if he won't let you go through that again

you're so quiet that it scares him sometimes. the life in your eyes is just barely there

he is a bit of a workaholic himself sometimes but he knows how to take breaks. he prides himself in being able to separate himself from that when he can

he tries to lull you to sleep (like you don't know what he's trying to do)

you're stubborn and he knows this and you're also far too tired to admit how tired you actually are

the kind of boyfriend to give you tea and hope it does the trick. to give you massages, make you listen to him talk so much that hopefully you'll fall asleep in his lap

he adores you to pieces. he really does. how can he bear to see you like this?

it's like you're a zombie and not the bad kind. he wanted you to spend the whole day in bed and again, he will call your boss on your behalf, he'll pay for the rent if he can, he doesn't care

he'll do whatever he can to save you from the fate of another awful night like that

His hand massaged your shoulders as you sat together on the couch. You had been silent for a while and although it used to worry him, he was just happy to have you beside him.

"No work tomorrow," he mentioned quietly.

"Don't talk about work," you whispered. He nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"Sorry." You looked at him at your side. "I think I might lock you in the bedroom so you can get some sleep."

"You know that's not how that works," you whispered, though you smiled at the gesture anyway.

"It's how it should work."

Ethan Winters

Ethan understands better than most how hard it can be to let things slide

he knows that working sometimes helps. it helps the silence in his head when all he can focus on is that he's so tired and the has to work

because he understands, he also has a certain degree of protection he has over you

he knows what it feels like to be unable to feel his eyelids anymore because they're so heavy

the very second you have off he demands that you stay inside

he would rather you be laying down and not moving for a while if he could stand it, allowing you to bask in the quietness

he would make you promise him that you would try your hardest to sleep because he thought that once exhaustion came over you it would be too hard not to

he wanted to tell you about how hard it was for him after the Baker house to sleep because he had so many bad memories that he didn't want to relive

he tries to relate to you about that. he wants you to know that sometimes his bed is a demon in and of itself

insists you take time off afterwards. he doesn't care how it happens but you need a day of rest and that's final

"They'll probably need me in sooner," you admitted, quietly. He shook his head over dinner. He had made it for you that night, happily, some of your favorite foods.

"Two days minimum," he said.

"You're not my boss Ethan," you told him honestly but he shook his head. He was having none of it.

"You should quit."

"I know. But I can't."

"I know," he hummed, shaking his head. "Two days. Two. In a row."

[in1-nutshell]

I lied, I don't want Megatron's confession constantly getting interrupted. I want them to kiss, I wanna see Megatron being a simp for his small spider wife.

bonus

Optimus - Thank you for putting aside our differences and meeting me here. And I'd like it to be known that right now, I am not speaking to you as autobot to decepticon but as mech to mech. With that being said, I will find a way to kill you if you hurt buddy

SHOVEL TALK PLS

another thing to tag on, Im sorry I only got ideas after requests are closed, i hope when you see this you have a nice day and drink water.

Will we finally get the confession? Yes? No? You'll have to find out.

I had other request similar to this one so this will have some of their elements too.

Better context, read the last Elita One's twin sister post

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister and Megatron confessions?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronain (techno organic) reader

TFA

All Decepticon projects had halted when Buddy disappeared through that portal.

Not that anyone would object to it anyways.

Everyone was worried about where Buddy would end up.

Blitzwing’s personalities all agreed to work together to find her, causing a near cohesive flow.

Near, the faces would sometimes have a fit over little details in the search.

Starscream halted all his plans to overthrow Megatron until Buddy was found.

Lugnut messaged Strika to keep an optic out on the space bridges they were thinking about taking in case Buddy was around.

Shockwave was also notified about Buddy sudden disappearance.

Megatron was by far the most worried in the group.

He could still see Buddy trying to reach for his servo.

After 3 days of searching Megatron knew what he had to do.

He didn’t like it, but Buddy’s life potentially at risk and time was at the essence now.

The entire Decepticon group had flown to the city and landed in the center of the park.

There was no way he was going to message the smaller Prime, but at least showing up would do something to alert the Autobots.

Within no time most of the Autobots had shown up at the park.

Megatron walking towards Optimus.

Optimus walks to him.

They meet in the middle.

“Megatron.”--Optimus

“Prime. I have news.”--Megatron

Optimus doesn’t like the look Megatron is giving him.

They look frightened.

What could possibly…

“Megatron, where’s Buddy?”--Optimus

Megatron looks down a bit and clenches his servo.

“A portal opened inside the base. We were—I was unable to stop her from getting sucked inside.”--Megatron

Optimus and the Team’s optics go wide.

“How? When?”--Optimus

“Three days ago. We have not found a trace of Buddy.”--Megatron

“Do you think that she may have been kidnapped again?”--Optimus

“Not likely. There would have been traces of…”--Megatron

Optimus clenches his axe.

“How can we help?”--Optimus

“Firstly, a truce needs to be—”--Megatron

Optimus shakes his servo with Megatron.

“All right, next?”--Optimus

Optimus managed his team to start looking for Buddy.

Prowl and Bulkhead went to Dinobot Island to see if Buddy was around.

They came across Dinobot’s there.

They were worried that Buddy hadn’t shown up either.

Grimlock managed to organize the Dinobots to help with the search.

Ratchet, Bumblebee and Sari searched more in the city for Buddy.

Optimus managed to get in contact with Elita and tell her what was going on.

She nearly turned the entire ship around hearing that.

“Elita you can’t come back to Earth without the right jurisdiction.”--Optimus

“Optimus, Buddy is in trouble. My twin needs my help.”--Elita

“I’m with Prime on this one Elita.”--Sentinel

“What?”--Elita

“What?”--Optimus

“We have orders to get back to Cybertron and that’s what they expect. They don’t know Buddy is still alive. Ultra Magnus still doesn’t know. It’s going to give us and Buddy more trouble if we go back.”--Sentinel

“…Fine.”--Elita

“We’ll keep an optic out on our end Optimus.”--Sentinel

“Thank you, both of you.”--Optimus

“Optimus, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you know.”--Jazz

“Megatron told me.”--Optimus

“…Come again.”--Jazz

“He told us he needed help finding Buddy. She’s been gone for three days.”--Optimus

“Three days?!”--Elita

“How do you know this isn’t a trap? How do you know that Megatron isn’t lying?”--Sentinel

“Trust me, he wouldn’t be lying about Buddy.”--Optimus

“How—”--Sentinel

“Trust me on this.”--Optimus

“…I hope you’re right.”--Elita

A few days later…

Megatron is flying around early in the morning when he sees that same blasted portal open in the middle of the sky.

Something shoots out of it and the portal closes.

He looks closer at the thing and nearly has a spark attack.

It was Buddy.

“WHY CAN’T I HAVE A SAFE LANDING?!”--Buddy

Megatron dives down and grabs Buddy’s waist slowing her descent and flies upwards.

Buddy has her optics shut closed preparing for the worst.

“Buddy?”--Megatron

Buddy opens her optics and sees the shocked optics of Megatron.

Her Megatron.

“Megatron?”--Buddy

Megatron just pulls her in a tight hug.

Buddy does her best to hug back.

“I…I thought…”--Megatron

“Megatron, even after all this time, you still doubt me?”--Buddy

Megatron gives her a slightly unamused look.

“You know what I mean.”—Megatron

Buddy giggles a bit.

“I do, but sometimes it too easy with you.”--Buddy

“Too easy?”--Megatron

“Yes, like this.”--Buddy

Buddy cups both her servos on Megatron’s faceplate.

Megatron’s optics grow slightly but close them when she starts gently stroking her digit on his face.

“Is this fine?”--Buddy

Megatron just nods.

“I missed you.”--Buddy

“As did I.”--Megatron

Megatron looks at Buddy’s optics longingly.

“I love you.”--Megatron

Megatron’s optics go wide as the three words slipped out of his mouth.

Buddy’s optics went wide but then a happy smile graces her face as she pressed her helm against his.

He leans in too.

“It’s a good thing I feel the same way too then.”--Buddy

“Feel what?”--Megatron

“Love. I love you Megatron. I love you so.”--Buddy

Megatron lets a smile loose and closes his optics focusing on the moment with Buddy’s helm still resting on his.

They both come back to the park after Megatron let everyone know that she was okay.

The Decepticon’s want to high tail it to the park, but Megatron tells them to get back to the base.

Begrudgingly they agree.

Optimus is the first one to arrive at the park and tackles Buddy down.

Optimus locking Buddy in a tight hug on the ground.

“Don’t you ever do that again! Do you hear me!?”--Optimus

Buddy just chuckles and hugs him back.

Optimus helps Buddy get off from the floor.

Budy moves her way back to Megatron’s side and takes his servo in hers.

Optimus gives Buddy a look before getting the message.

Optimus turns to Megatron flashing the axe in his servo.

“I thank you for putting the war aside for Buddy, I do. And right now, still has nothing to do with the war, but as mech to mech.”--Optimus

Optimus gives him his best death glare.

“If you ever hurt her in anyway, shape, form, and I find out… You’re going to have to deal with me. And you wont like the ways I deal with things angrily; you can ask Buddy that.”--Optimus

Buddy having flashbacks to Optimus fighting a whole group of cadets because they hurt her.

She had tried to get Elita and Sentinel to get him to stop, but in the end the two joined in.

Megatron looks at the Prime for a moment before taking out his other servo.

“You have my word, Optimus Prime. For what ever its worth to you.”--Megatron

Optimus shakes it before giving Buddy one last hug.

Prime transforms and gets back to the plant to call off the search party.

After getting buried in more hugs and light scoldings, there is a mini celebration at the base for finding Buddy.

Buddy had to make many calls during the party to make sure everyone knew she was okay.

“I see the Spider survived.”--Strika

“Yes, I did Strika. I’m home.”--Buddy

“I must ask what happened though. Megatron had most of the projects stopped to go look for you.”--Strika

Buddy blushes a bit at the comment.

“Well, that’s a story for the next time you come over.”--Buddy

“I see, but one last question.”--Strika

“Yes?”--Buddy

Strika points to Buddy’s servo that is off screen.

Buddy lifts it up a bit showing Megatron’s servo carefully intertwined with hers still.

Strika’s optics go wide.

Buddy smiles sweetly.

“Hmm…I believe I’ll have to make my visit sooner then.”--Strika

“Okay then! Bye Strika!”--Buddy

Strika cuts the video call.

Megatron squeezes her servo a bit.

Buddy smiles and squeezes back.

SLAM!

Megatron and Buddy jump at the sound.

Megatron pulls Buddy closer still holding her servo.

“Lord Megatron we have the—”--Lugnut

Lugnut zeroes in on the servos.

“Oh… My…”--Lugnut

“Umm, Lugnut? Are you—”--Buddy

“ITS HAPPENING! ITS HAPPENING!”--Lugnut

“What?”--Megatron

Starscream and Blitzwing come running in and spot Megatron’s servo in Buddy’s.

Blitzwing throws his servos in the air with utter joy and relief.

“Finally! It’s over now!”--Blitzwing

“What’s over now?”--Buddy

“The endless pinning! You two have been pinning over each other for years and finally, FINALLY got together!”--Starscream

Buddy hides half of her face with her other servo.

Megatron feels embarrassed but knows that he can’t really punish them for this.

It was torture for him too.

Megatron drags Buddy away from the cheering mechs.

“Have fun you two!”--Starscream

Megatron stops and gets ready to go back and punch Starscream.

“Megatron no.”--Buddy

Megatron follows Buddy as if nothing happened.

[spencersssockss]

Library

Summary: You meet Spencer at the library when going to check out The Fisher King…

Warnings: none!!!

Word count: 700

Ally: This is based loosely off the fisher king episode kinda but not really, sorry about the length!! I plan on having a second part to this one soon!!! Enjoy lovelies!

You loved reading, any free time you had was spent reading, and it served as a distraction.

Your friend had been telling you about a book she had recently heard of, it was called The Fisher King, you did a tremendous amount of research on it only to find out the only possible way to read it would be to get it from your local library as it was no longer being sold due to its old age and rarity.

You decided to visit the library after work to pick it up, luckily someone had just returned it, and just as you were checking out a nerdy, tall, and lanky man walked towards the front desk next to you.

“Do you mind if I read that book in your hand before you leave?” It’ll only take like ten minutes,” he quickly said eyes bright as he bounced his foot nervously.

“Ten minutes?” you questioned cocking an eyebrow.

Spencer bit his cheek for a second before replying, “I have an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute, I know it sounds crazy but just trust me, it's really important,” he mumbled quickly.

“I-uh okay,” you stuttered handing him the book.

Taking the book in his hands, Spencer carefully flipped through it, fingers running over every page as he read, his eyes glancing over the words quickly, taking in every detail. After what seemed like only a few seconds, he closed the book and handed it back to you with a small smile.

“There's no way you read that all,” you blurted eyes widening.

“I promise, I did. My name's Spencer Reid by the way,” he said extending his hand for you to shake.

you shook it hesitantly still in disbelief.

With a smile, Spencer continued, “I'm a psychologist and criminal profiler for the FBI, always on the lookout for new books to read, this time it was actually for a case.”

You gasped in realization, you remembered before you graduated he had done a lecture at your college. “I've seen you before, you do lectures right?” you asked.

Spencer's cheeks reddened slightly, and he nodded. "Yeah, I've given several lectures on various topics, mostly about the human mind and behavior."

“You're one of the reasons I became a counselor,” you smiled.

Spencer smiled warmly, "That's amazing. I'm glad to have played a small part in your journey." He glanced around the library, trying to think of something else to say. "Would you like to get coffee or something sometime?”

“Absolutely, do you want my number?” you asked breaking into a smile.

"I'd love your number," Spencer replied, pulling out his phone. He tapped on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. "Here, add your number, sorry for not asking your name earlier, if you don't mind me asking now what is it?” he blushed slightly.

“it's y/n,” you smiled putting in your number and handing his phone back to him.

"Thank you, Y/N," Spencer said, pocketing his phone. He couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at the interaction. It was rare for him to meet someone who understood and appreciated his work so deeply. "Well, I should probably get back to my research now.”

“Yeah, sorry for keeping you so long,” you blushed holding the book against your chest.

"It's quite alright," Spencer reassured you with a gentle smile. "I hope we can catch up again soon, maybe over that coffee or even another book." He waved goodbye before disappearing into the stacks of the library.

You stood there for a moment still in disbelief at what had just happened, the librarian laughed before saying, “he's a cutie isn't he?”

You blushed deeply turning to face her to answer, “Just a little,” you mumbled making her laugh again.

“He works for the FBI actually,” she added laughing again as your eyes widened.

“Good to know,” you smiled waving at her as you left the library and headed home to read the book. Which would probably take YOU a lot longer than ten minutes.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

I Can See You | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

Warnings: mention of serial killers and bombings, inappropriate thoughts

Author's note: I've wanted to write this one every single time I listened to the song but when @pastanest wrote it first, I was scared to do it too because that one is just too good (read it here)!! Anyways, hope y'all like this one, too :)

Words: 3K

Being Penelope Garcia’s best friend came with a lot of perks. Aside from it being impossible to ever be sad around her, it also came with the perk of doing the odd job at Quantico. We had met during her days as the Black Queen online and ever since, she had taught me all she knew about hacking and tech analysis. While she worked for the FBI, I worked across the yard at the Capitol as tech support. 

Her job was a little more tantalizing – sometimes more traumatizing – than mine. While I simply helped the employees with their technical issues, Penelope actually helped save people. 

And sometimes, she called for my help with a case whenever she figured everything would go so much faster with some helping hands and flexible fingers. 

The first time she had called me on a case, I didn’t even know what I was in for. She just told me to get to Quantico as soon as I possibly could, that it was a matter of life and death. So, I packed everything up, and rushed across the street to the FBI building. I didn’t even bother to tell my boss. I was certain Penelope’s boss would vouch for me and get me out of trouble, even though I had  never met him. 

“Thank you so much for coming, y/n/n,” said Penelope as she took me into a hug as soon as I burst through the front doors and into the hallway. 

“Penny, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I asked and held her at a short distance to inspect her for any injuries. 

She waved away my question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said and grabbed my hand to drag me towards reception where I had to register. It wasn’t until after my bag had been inspected and I passed through security that she started to explain what was happening. “We’re working on this really tough case and though my dainty fingers are quick at tip tapping away on the keyboard, I’m gonna need your genius to get me the answers twice as fast.” 

On the way up to the sixth floor, she briefed me about the case, just so I was up to speed before we actually started. I was too distracted listening to her rambles that I didn’t even notice another person rushing through the hallway on our way from the elevators to her office. 

My shoulder bumped into theirs, causing me to stumble ever so slightly, but firm hands on my shoulders kept me from actually falling. “Oof, sorry!” The both of us apologized at the same time. 

What I didn’t expect to happen when I looked up at the person was being so taken aback by the beautiful pair of eyes that locked onto mine. The hazel orbs had tiny gold specks in them, making them look almost honey-colored. 

I was so distracted by his eyes, I didn’t catch Penelope’s mischievous smirk she would only get whenever she had expertly set me up with someone when we were out at a bar or a party. 

“Y/N/N, this is my wonderful colleague and resident genius, Spencer Reid. Reid, this is my almost-as-sexy-and-smart-as-me best friend, y/n y/l/n,” she introduced us as the guy – Spencer – retracted his hands from my shoulders, convinced I was steady enough on my feet. 

He offered me a smile that nearly wiped me off my feet again. “Hi, nice to meet you.” 

My lips curled into a smile that mirrored his. He didn’t offer his hand to shake, so I decided not to offer mine, either. “Ditto, Spencer,” I said instead, unable to tear my eyes away from his. 

“Okay,” Penelope then interrupted, “Enough chit-chat. We gotta go!” As I managed a quick wave at Spencer, my best friend pulled me along to her office where we settled behind her computer screens. While she explained how her system worked, my mind involuntarily drifted off to the disarming genius I met in the hallway. 

For hours, Penelope and I worked on the case together, taking turns in getting drinks and food to keep us nutritioned. We were discussing a list of potential UnSubs after we had finished our lunch and I was chewing on the straw of my Sprite when Spencer burst into the room. 

“Garcia, y/l/n, I’ve got something to narrow the search,” he said, causing my heart to flutter at how my last name sounded from his lips. He leaned between us, placing a piece of paper on the desk. His stomach was pressed against my shoulder whilst his arm brushed mine. 

A chill ran down my spine, but I remained poised, trying to be professional. “Those are the places he went to in the last twenty-four hours?” I asked, deducting the theory from the map in front of me. 

Spencer had drawn lines across the map, connecting at least five dots. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, then leaned in closer, his face right next to mine. “We were able to get these locations from the GPS of the rental car he used and ditched at the last murder site.” 

His breath felt hot against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from starting to tap away on the keyboard, trying to find any CCTV footage from any of the establishments in the neighborhood of those locations. Within seconds, I’d found some footage from a service station where the UnSub was seen leaving the shop. 

“Was this what you needed?” I asked sassily and turned my head to look at him. He was a lot closer than I anticipated him to be, my nose nearly grazed his cheek. Even up close he was pretty. 

He stood up straight again, much to my dismay, and offered me a shy smile. “Only if you can give me a name, too,” he told me. 

Raising my eyebrows challengingly, I turned back to the computer and ran the footage through Penelope’s software. Within seconds, I found a name, his age and address, which was someone on the list of suspects Penelope and I had been looking at for the past ten minutes. 

“Can you send that to the team?” he asked as he took out his phone, already dialing one of the team’s numbers. 

“Already did, pretty boy,” I smirked and watched as he walked away with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown over his shoulder towards us. When I turned back to Penelope, she looked at me with that teasing look she would only ever give me when she was about to give me shit. “What?” I asked. 

“Nothing,” she sang, though her face said something else entirely. 

I didn’t feel like getting into it. It wasn’t like I was going to see Spencer again. This was a one-time thing. Or at least, that was what I thought. It wasn’t until Penelope called me two weeks later with the same request. Even then I managed to stay somewhat professional around Spencer. 

But they didn’t leave it at two times. At least five more cases, I was asked to help Penelope out on. It didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I actually enjoyed helping the BAU team on their cases. It gave me the opportunity to work together with my very best friend as well as secretly flirt with the young doctor. And, you know, learn something new and everything.

Every time I saw him, I could just imagine him pushing me against a wall and kissing me senseless. Every brush of the arm, every longing gaze we directed to one another. It all drove me completely insane, but there was not much I could do about it but sit back and act as professional as I possibly could. 

When we finished case number five, I was packing up my stuff and exited Penelope’s lair. My mind was still racing with the images I had seen about this gruesome case, but all of it seemingly cleared up when my eyes landed on the person standing at the very end of the hallway. 

“Oh, hi, Spencer,” I greeted with a smile as I approached him. 

He offered me that same knee-buckling smile. “Hi, y/n. I wanted to-uh, I wanted to check up on you. See if you were doing all right?” 

I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss his jaw. That man was the most considerate person alive and it was absolutely turning me on. Coughing, I recomposed myself. I couldn’t act upon these feelings building inside of me. 

“I am,” I said. “Though, I got to admit, this last case was a whole lot more brutal than the previous ones I helped on. It’s gonna haunt me for days.” I let out a chuckle, taking my eyes off him for a second. 

Spencer hummed. “Yeah, it, uh, it takes a while to get used to it.” 

“Do you ever get used to that?” 

Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. “No, not really…” 

A chuckle rolled off my lips too and for a moment, the two of us fell silent. It was a comfortable silence with the two of us just gazing into each other’s eyes as if we were under a spell. I knew that if I didn’t break eye contact, I would actually kiss him. 

“I, uh, I’m gonna go home,” I told him and finally tore my gaze off him. 

“Right,” he mumbled and turned towards the elevator. “You-uh, you want me to walk you to your car?” 

Eyes widening, I almost immediately let out a sharp, “No!” The moment he and I would’ve stepped out together, I would’ve jumped his bones. I coughed to recompose myself again. “No, I’m okay,” I repeated, softer this time. 

“Oh, okay,” Spencer nodded and stepped aside. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you another time then?” 

I offered him a smile. “Yeah, see you next time.” 

From the second I left the BAU, Spencer occupied my mind for the foreseeable future. Every corner I turned, every meal I had, every day I worked at my regular day job at the Capitol,... Spencer had taken over my mind and every fiber of my being. 

It had been a good week since I had last seen the BAU team, since I had last spoken to Spencer. I couldn’t focus at all. He was all I could think about to the point where I couldn’t even properly function. I had to do something about it. Even if it was just getting that feeling of frustration off my chest. 

That was why I had marched my way over to the BAU, went through the protocol at FBI security and clipped on my Visitor’s badge before trudging down to Penelope’s lair where I burst through the door without even knocking. She had given me the code to get in, so I didn’t have to knock. 

“Y/N? What are you–”

I ignored her and plopped down on the sofa with a groan. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Penny,” I told her defeatedly, resting my head back against the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling. 

“About what?” she asked. 

“Spencer, of course.” I didn’t catch Penelope’s wide-eyed look as I continued my tirade. “Unfortunately, I need him in a way that will defy the laws of space and time and set feminism back seventy years.” Rubbing my hands over my face, I rolled my head back to look at my best friend, who hadn’t given her unsolicited opinion immediately like she always did. 

That was when I saw the look of horror on her face. “Sugar plum,” she started, “Don’t be mad but…” My eyes landed on the device with the blinking red light behind her. She had been on a call and I could all but guess who was on that call. 

“No,” I muttered, my heart plummeting to my stomach and my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me –” 

Penelope pressed a button, putting her coworkers on speaker rather than through her headset. All I could hear was Derek’s and Emily’s giggles. “Wow, y/n,” came JJ’s voice, a bemused lilt in her tone. “I did not expect that coming from you.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut before rushing forward and pressing what I thought to be the mute button. “Why didn’t you mute us as soon as I came in?” I asked before starting to pace the length of the room, but didn’t give Penelope the chance to answer. “Now everyone knows and to make it all worse – Spencer now knows.” 

“Oh, mama, it’s not like we didn’t already know,” came Morgan’s voice through hiccups of laughter. 

“PENELOPE!” I screeched, realizing I hadn’t pressed the right button. 

With a simple shrug, Penelope turned to me. “Maybe it’s not so bad?” she tried and I just groaned in frustration before turning on my heel and leaving her lair. Now I had to debate whether to wait for Spencer to come back and explain everything to him or to just go home and never show my face here again. 

There wasn’t much of a chance for me to think about it because the team quickly filed back into the offices. As soon as my eyes landed on Spencer, I froze. Our eyes met and I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but there was a serial bomber to catch. Rather than leaving and going home, I decided to stick around and help Penelope. 

But before I could head over to Penelope’s lair, it was impossible to avoid the other’s relentless comments. Through a sea of giggles and quoting of what I had said to Penelope in confidence, I made my way through the bullpen, rolling my eyes. 

“I’m gonna get a cup of tea,” I told Penelope, getting up from my seat in her lair. “You want one?” 

“Yes, please, sugar,” she answered without taking her eyes off her screen. 

With a chuckle, I left the office and made my way to the break room where I put on the kettle for two cups of tea. While I busied myself picking out a flavor, my mind drifted off to what I could possibly say to Spencer if I ever got the chance. 

“Oh,” I heard the mumble behind me and when I turned around, I found Spencer in the doorway. “Hi.” He smiled a little awkwardly before making his way to the coffee pot. 

I returned the gesture. “Hi.” 

My eyes were trained on him while he poured the coffee and scribbled something down on a notepad beside him. My mind filtered through every possible word combination possible. I was so distracted, the click of the kettle turning off startled me. 

As I poured the hot water into two cups, Spencer placed a folded piece of paper in front of me on the counter and scurried away before I could possibly react. Curiosity rising within me, I unfolded the piece of paper, only to find “Meet me tonight” written in his scrawny handwriting. 

“That’s not vague at all,” I scoffed before pocketing it and continuing making the tea. Once the teabags were in, I made my way back to Penelope’s office, but not without one last glance at Spencer in the bullpen. Together with Derek and Emily, he was bent over a file on Emily’s desk. 

He seemingly felt my eyes on him as he, too, looked at me. Feeling my cheeks heat up underneath his gaze, I quickly looked away and rushed towards my best friend. I leaned my back against the door as soon as I shut it, trying to catch my breath. 

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Penelope asked when she saw the state of me. 

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself that I let a man make me feel this way. “Not Spencer, unfortunately.” My best friend let out a loud cackle. “He gave me this note–” I placed her octopus mug in front of her before handing her the note. 

“That’s vague,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed. 

“Exactly what I thought,” I grumbled. “He was gone before I could even ask.” 

Penelope tsked before patting the chair that had been mine for the last couple of weeks. With a sigh, I plopped down carefully so as to not spill my hot tea. For the next hour, I tried to focus on the case more than on Spencer and what I was going to say to him. 

However, it was hard not to think about him. 

So, once the case was wrapped up, I packed up my stuff and went out to the hall where Spencer had waited for me merely a week ago. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Penelope as I would be seeing her soon anyway and she knew I had to do what I had to do. 

It took a couple of minutes before Spencer walked out of the bullpen, eyes focused on the phone in his hand. 

“‘Meet me tonight’?” I asked, capturing his attention. His honey eyes met mine, his lips twitching into a smile. “Could you be any more vague?” 

“Sorry,” he chuckled and chucked his phone into his pocket again. “I just–” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Another soft laugh rolled off his lips as he looked down to the squeaky-clean floor of the FBI Headquarters. He looked back up at me, his eyes tender and searching for something I didn’t even know. 

“What?”

Not even bothering to answer my question, Spencer grabbed my hand and tugged me into the closest room, which happened to be the family room. As soon as the door was shut, he pushed me against the wall by kissing me, his hands on my hips to hold me in place. 

“Does this set feminism back seventy years?” he asked between kisses to my lips and jaw. 

My toes curled and my stomach fluttered. This was all I had been dreaming of ever since I met him that first day. I had wanted him flush against me, fingers tangling up in my hair and his tongue warm against mine. 

“No,” I breathed while he worked his way down my neck in open-mouthed kisses. “But it does defy the laws of space and time.” 

The words seemingly set something animalistically off in Spencer as his kisses became hungrier and his hands roamed my body in ways I had never been touched before. He gave me enough to brag to Penelope about the next day. 

He gave me everything I had been dreaming of. 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks@tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess 

[tugoslovenka]

Safehaven

Summary: You have felt a little insecure in your situationship with Halsin as of late. Fortunately, the druid seems to have taken notice—and takes some steps in consoling your fears and self-consciousness.

A/N: I just want to say this was something of a self-comfort fic. I don’t often see plus size/fat bodies in these fics (I’m responsible for doing the same in all of my work too) and I felt like making active efforts in remedying that. Especially when it comes to Halsin. With that said, obviously don’t take this as anything other than an exercise in writing something different. All bodies are beautiful, I just want fat ones to be more represented in fiction sometimes.

This is also my first time writing in second person and I must say, it’s very unnatural for me to do so. But I hope it at least tickled someone’s pickle.

Also available on AO3!

The tent was haphazardly made. Having lived in Baldur’s Gate for most of your life, nature was not where you felt most comfortable. Although, this entire adventure has been an exercise in understanding yourself ever since the Nautiloid crash a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes you felt utterly useless, having to trek through some of the rougher parts of this strange land. Other times, you felt strong—a leader, even, among your companions. It was an odd feeling, stepping in to mediate a confrontation, consoling others or simply having others come to you for advice.

The anonymity brought upon by the abduction slowly turned into a journey of self-discovery. Baldur’s Gate was too big a city to truly achieve the passions you wanted to. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, with strangers who are equally as confused as you, it’s different.

You’re different.

The shadow looming over you brings you back to the sound of crackling fires and whetstone against metal. In tattered leathers, Halsin stands, a hand outstretched towards you.

“Yes?” you ask, following the bulging veins on his arm until you note some of the scarring on his shoulder from today’s goblin encounter. Your eyes quickly divert to meet his—warm brown, with a speckle of ember that almost glows at night.

“Where have your thoughts leapt?” He cocks his head to one side, observing you with care. The druid had an uncanny ability to sense your discomfort from a mile away. You sometimes wondered if he had an infinite supply of Potions of Mind Reading, topping up each hour just to ensure he was inside your head at all times.

“Oh?” you quip, hugging your own body in response. “It’s been a long day, I suppose.”

He kneels down, blocking most of the light from the campfire. With elbows resting on his thighs, he continues to stare. Instinctively, you raise your knees until most of your body is covered. You wrap your arms around them, placing your chin in between. His eyes simply follow your movements.

“Is that all?” He turns his hand until his palm faces you, offering it in case you felt the need to hold it. You always did, but embarrassment or pride often had the last word in the conundrum of comfort.

Halsin never pushed you to share more than you were willing to, and so very quickly, he retracts his hand. The air is particularly chilly tonight, and even though you handle the cold better than most, the goosebumps spreading on your skin prompt you to involuntarily shake when a gust of wind passes by.

“I do not mean this to offend you, but your tent is…” he trails off, looking at the deflated fabric that could serve as a second blanket if need be. “... Not very—”

“—It’s shit, I’m aware,” you chuckle, letting out a yawn when you feel the shakes come again.

Halsin smiles. Almost immediately, you grin back at him. There is something so captivating about the wrinkles on the sides of his face showing each time he is chuffed with your comments. He would call them ‘direct’ even though you knew he probably meant rude. Not that he would allow himself to say so.

“I was going to say not very safe,” he corrects. “I can feel a storm brewing below my feet. If it encourages the bunnies to burrow, then I imagine it will not be pleasant.”

“After all this, dying from drowning by rainfall sounds rather embarrassing.” Your hands begin to rub your shoulders in an effort to raise your body temperature.

“I know we have both been rather busy as of late, but I do miss you, little one.”

Little one. Your teeth grit at the sound of it. It takes the willpower of a thousand suns to not bite off a chunk inside your cheek when he says it. The first time he did, it was following a particularly generous indulging of your cunt—when he refused to be serviced in return—and wrapped you in his arms instead. A thank you, he called it, for aiding him in the fight against his captors. The second time was after your face was painted in his seed, scorching hot like the anger he had for Kagha’s activities in the Grove. A kiss on the forehead followed. The third time was during a cuddle atop one of the particularly beautiful outlooks near the settlement—where he Wildshaped into a bear to keep you cushioned against the uncomfortable floor.

It was frustrating. Never have you felt so secure yet vulnerable with a person. At times, he made you feel like the most unique flower in a gardenia of preciousness, and yet he almost seemed frightened to touch you. You couldn’t remember the last time his touch was wanting, and it had been a month since your last indulgement.

“You certainly don’t act like it,” you murmur, scooting away until you felt your back hit the tent—or whatever was left of it.

Halsin’s eyes narrow. You have studied his expressions well enough to know this was his way of practicing his thoughts before he felt comfortable enough to speak out loud. He opens his mouth to utter a protest, but the loud cheers from Karlach interrupt him. You both turn to see the tiefling using a stick to gently pet over Scratch’s head, squealing in excitement when he drops a ball with a bark.

You take the time to disengage.

“Nevermind.” Standing, you pat away some of the dirt on your thighs and pull down your top, careful to pull at the bottom until it covers the bits you want it to. The druid is quick to follow, and you find yourself blocked by his giant frame as he looks down at you with concern.

“Come,” he instructs, limply pointing towards a direction away from the camp. “Follow me.”

“Halsin, it’s late and if this storm is—”

“Please.” 

You relent. With a groan, you lean down to pick up the giant blanket one of the tieflings knitted as a farewell present and wrap it around your front. Halsin is the first to move, occasionally looking back to check if you’re nearby. Once you’re far enough that the noise from camp turns distant is when his hand intertwines with yours, squeezing a few times to offer reassurance. 

Rolling your eyes would have been the appropriate response, were it not for the exhaustion you feel in fighting the inside voices and the man responsible for them.

The journey is spent in complete silence, though the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It takes some time until you reach a nearby creek. Halsin lets go of your hand once you reach a spot he finds appropriate, but not before giving it a gentle kiss. He tells you he will take precaution in scoping the area for any threats. You take the time to sit on a nearby rock, curling the blanket until it covers every inch of your body save for your head.

It doesn't take long. The approaching footsteps catch your attention and you see the large druid return with a couple of branches. He kneels next to you, using some of the nearby rocks to create a campfire.

“I know you are upset with me,” he murmurs, striking two sharp stones against one another until sparks fly in the air. “But I wish to understand why.”

You sigh. “Halsin, is this the time?”

“I miss you,” he retorts, continuing to smash the pebbles more aggressively this time. “And I cannot bear this tension.”

“Tension?” you scoff. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you are not.”

Another spark.

“And how would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

More sparks.

“Do you?”

“It would help if you allowed me to discern what troubles you.”

A flame. A small one, followed by smoke that quickly blows in the wind. Halsin finally turns to you, one knee on the ground as he rests his body weight on one hand.

“Do I trouble you?” you challenge, gently rocking your knee in frustration.

His expression softens. “What?”

“It does seem practiced for you to whisk me away somewhere where no one else can see us any time you want to show me affection,” you snap. “I wonder if I’m the trouble here.”

Halsin shakes his head. The fire next to him begins growing until you feel a wave of heat in your direction.

“You are… anything but. What would make you say that?”

You shrug, pressing your lips together. Either he was rather oblivious at his actions, or just well-rehearsed in the responses he typically gave. You see him searching your eyes, darting left and right as though they would give him the sense he sought for.

“When was the last time you touched me in front of everyone?” you ask, voice lowering barely above a whisper. “When was the last time you touched me with purpose?”

“My heart, you misunderstand,” he responds, inching closer until you can smell the salt and earth his body carries. “My lack of affections have nothing to do with you, but with—with… well, me.”

Another excuse. One that you’ve heard many times before.

“Of course,” you scoff, turning your gaze to the creak nearby.

He reaches through the blanket until you can feel his hand tightening around yours. “Look at me.” 

You do so, reluctantly.

“I have lived for many years. I have taken many lovers. You are not some conquest I keep on a tab of many. I have—the shadow curse, it has been preoccupying my daydreams and nightmares. It has nothing to do with you.”

Your eyes narrow. “Then why come to me in the first place?”

He takes a few minutes before answering. “Passion. Attraction. Long lonely nights that needed—”

“—So that’s the reason. You needed a quick release.”

“No,” he quickly interrupts. “You are much more than a passionate night. But that’s precisely why I don’t wish to rush this. I don’t want you to have the wrong idea.”

“And what idea is that?” you arch an eyebrow.

“That somehow you are a quick solution for my frustrations. Yes, I am lonely and I have been, ever since I’ve had the Grove responsibilities thrust upon me. And yes, you have ignited a spark within me that threatens to explode into a wildfire.” Halsin’s thumb begins circling your hand. “But you are also wonderful. I can hear you speak about your love of painting until I grow old. I can watch you playing with those tiefling children until my eyes wet with tears. I can’t bear to see you fight, because my heart tears each time I see another scar on your body.” 

You search his eyes for deceit, the corners of which begin to sparkle in the dim moonlight. He curls his hand until it’s holding yours tightly, while his other reaches to touch the side of your face. You’ve always compared the rough skin on his palm to tree bark, and you would have melted into his touch were it not for the many questions you felt necessary to ask.

“It has nothing to do with the others or with you. I would happily cradle you in my arms each day, professing my adoration for you the moment the sun’s rays illuminate the skies until it dims down to the blackness of night. And I apologize that I have not done that.” His thumb rubs small circles on your cheek as he speaks, making sure to stare at you as though speaking to your soul.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do.” He tugs on your hand until you allow him to pull it towards his lips. He gives a gentle kiss on your knuckles, leaning his cheek against them. “I was not aware you wished it of me.”

You shake your head. “Much more than that, Halsin. I want you to crave me,” you profess. “I sometimes feel like you’re not willing to take the extra step. It’s as though you pull back from me when I need you most.”

He nods. “I do, but that’s mostly to contain myself. I may be an old bear, but there are some parts of me that I cannot fully control. I don’t wish to cause you any harm should it come to it. I am especially prone to outbursts at this time, given the circumstances.”

You pause. Halsin has sometimes spoken of his drawbacks—the side he’s not proud of as he would say—of being a druid. His Wildshape afforded him many conveniences, though even you have seen the yellow glow of his eyes at the height of his emotions. You didn’t mind it. In fact, you often had to squeeze your legs together to suppress the gushing need that rose from there at the very thought of it.

“Alright…” you trail off, forming a fist with your free hand, letting the anxiety rest there. “I suppose I’m not used to this. I more so felt you had changed your mind—didn’t find what you were expecting.”

“What do you mean?”

You nod towards your body in gesture. It takes him a short while before he understands the meaning, and quickly reaches to rest both hands against your cheeks. He shakes his head. “No. Never. You are important to me, attractive to me, as you are. What a privilege I have been bestowed upon, having mattered to you this much.”

With some apprehension, Halsin begins tugging at the large fur that covers most of your body. It easily slips down, allowing him full view of your frame, curled against yourself. He reaches forward, touching your neck first, dragging a finger from your chin until he reaches the shirt that covers the valley between your breasts.

“All of you—your softness, your plumpness, your swell,” he mutters, leaning until you feel the surprisingly soft lips against your skin. He inhales deeply, lips hovering over your left breast. “It does not matter. I love every bit of it.” Taking a hand, he reaches in the spot between your waist and hips, squeezing delicately. Instinctively, you jump at the discomfort, but he quickly stills you.

“Halsin, you don’t have to say any of this.” The nervous chuckle betrays you when your hand grabs his in an effort to move it aside. To this, he only hums. Before you have time to react, both hands tear the front of your shirt until your upper body is exposed to the elements. The same slow instincts fail to cover it, because his hands have tightened around your wrists before you can do so.

“Besides,” he continues, easily holding you down when you try to move your hands away. “Your voluptuousness makes for a greater resting place for all the seed I’m going to spill on account of this night.” 

Immediately, you stop fidgeting. Blinking a few times, it takes a moment for your brain to understand what your ears have perceived. The druid takes the opportunity to lean forward and take one of your breasts in his mouth. The contact makes you hiss, and still, you are unable to move from his grip. Instead, you moan, not caring for the loudness. His tongue has always been exceptionally good at weakening you. You can feel him twirl it around your nipple, followed by a light teething that prompts you to buck your hips forward.

“Halsin,” you moan, attempting to release from his hold for a second time. Fluttering your eyes closed, you lean back until you feel the tree trunk against your shoulder blades. He follows, not allowing you a moment of peace as he swirls his tongue over your hard nipple. Biting down, he begins suckling at the soft skin when you attempt to close your legs together to satisfy the ache between them.

With a pop, he releases your nipple, cheek resting against the skin as he looks up at you.

“Would you like that?” he wonders, a gentle bucking of his hips making it evident he too was seeking friction. “For me to show you how much I truly crave you?”

You bite your lip in response, hard enough that the metallic taste starts swirling somewhere inside your mouth. Nodding slowly, you attempt to tug away once again, and this time the druid allows it. With newfound freedom of movement, your hands find themselves fisting his messy hair when you propel yourself forward, landing on your knees and capturing his lips in yours. He is solid as stone, unmoving when you do so, and only grunts when your tongues find each other.

Hands begin roaming—his, yours—over soft and hardened bits, frantically looking for somewhere to rest, to hold. Halsin’s are particularly active, first finding your hair, then your cheeks, then your shoulders, then your hips, before finally resting at the front of your belly. You cringe and suck in air on impulse—habit. It only makes him squeeze harder.

“This is the body I have adored since the first time you granted me permission to touch it,” he growls, pulling away from your heated kisses. “I have hungered for every inch of you. Through sleepless nights and anxiety-ridden trips, I have grown to know this is what I want.”

Responding in full sentences is not an option. Not when he dips his head, trailing kisses along your belly, on the folds that he so carefully grabs hold of with one hand—while the other pushes itself through the confines of your trousers to find your soaking nub. Delightful cries escape your lips when he begins circling his fingers, putting enough pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head from the feeling.

“The stream of pleasures you produce, I will lap like an animal starved,” he coos, free hand pushing you to sink lower, until he has enough space to lodge himself between your legs. “Then I will fuck you until you are mute from screaming. Are you content with that, my heart?”

Gods above and below, you think. You can only nod, and you do so, rather vigorously. The chuckle that escapes his lips seems to contend him for now, and so he momentarily leaves your aching clit to help free you from the confines of fabric. Resting slanted, partway exhausted and panting could not have been a sight to behold, but Halsin’s bulge spoke differently.  

“Please…” you beg.

“No need to beg,” he comments before standing up, hands finding the belt on his pants until they release the cock that bounces lightly against his stomach. “There is nowhere I would rather be than inside you.”

The very thought of having him rut into you was an occupying thought during most evenings. And despite the bruises your throat suffered for days the last time you attempted to take him fully, the gush of wetness sounds the night at the thought of your cunt choking it.

“Spread your legs,” he instructs. “I need to see you.”

You sit up, carefully aligning your backside until you are able to find a somewhat pleasant spot to rest against. Halsin’s hand reaches for his throbbing member, where you spot a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip. He uses his thumb to spread it across his head, letting out a low groan as he does so. Needing no further encouragement, you spread your legs per his command, carefully analyzing his features and how they soften when you present yourself to him.

“Praise Silvanus,” he says, almost to himself. “How beautiful you are.”

Following his line of sight, you look down to see the mess that you have become. Glistening in the fire and moonlight, there is a trail of wetness that begins at your drooling hole, leading in both directions of your thighs. The druid clears his throat, and when you gaze up, you see the faintest glimmer of yellow light leave his eyes as he shakes his head. Letting go of his member, he drops down on his knees in front of you, staring at your pulsating cunt.

The heart that threatens to escape your chest follows the same rhythm between your legs. It’s craving to be touched—to be adored—and as though listening to your thoughts, Halsin leans in to give a soft kiss to your right thigh. Then your left. You look down to meet his eyes, as he meticulously drags his tongue where his lips first kiss, with enough hunger in his eyes to make you audibly moan at the sight.

 “I thought,” you gasp when he bites at your inner thigh. “I thought you said I wouldn’t have to beg.”

“No, but I will indulge in this for as long as I can,” he responds, scattering kisses in painstakingly slow fashion at the soft flesh of your thighs. He uses both hands to hold them, and with no effort on his part, sinks you lower on the stone until you are halfway lying down on your back. With legs in the air, he takes his time to study you.

You can see his hips moving rhythmically despite the control he attempts to assert, as though urging him forward. Still, he takes one hand to glide over your stomach, moving lower until it finally meets your center. You immediately hiss, pushing your head against the rock at the gentleness he offers. With two fingertips, he begins circling your clit again, while his other hand holds your leg in the air for support. 

“How warm you are,” he says, picking up the pace once he finds you are able to squirm too much for his liking. You push your pelvis forward, needing more friction. “How much warmer you will be when I spill all of myself into you until morning comes.”

Intelligent thought leaves your senses the more he speaks, you writhe and moan like a wanton sinner. This seems to please him, and so with no real warning, he slides not one but two fingers inside you. Your head raises to look between your legs, but you are met with the druid’s intense stare as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to indulge in the explosions that are firing inside your head. His teeth find their mark at your throat and he begins sucking away while his fingers pump in and out continuously, the heel of his palm slapping against your slickness with each thrust. You don’t notice when, but his other hand has found your nipple, carefully pulling at it to elicit a scream loud enough to be heard in Baldur’s Gate.

“Halsin!” you moan, incapable of saying anything else at the intensity of his ministrations. He smiles against the nape of your neck, biting before moving to kiss your lips instead. Your tongues battle—indulge—in one another’s mouths as he continues this delicious assault on your senses.

He breaks the kiss suddenly, resting his forehead against yours. You whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, noting the considerable lack of fullness he has provided.

“I need to prepare you for me,” he sighs, hands reaching out to his throbbing member once again. He lets out a moan when his soaked hand begins pumping the tip, where you now see a considerable dollop of pre-cum mixing with your juices. “Do you think you can handle three of my fingers, little one?”

His fingers were particularly attractive to you. The way he would whittle with enough dexterity to preplex you. The grip he held his staff with each time he would cast a spell. The roughness contrasting your soft skin any time he would touch any part of you. Though, he had a particular love of stuffing you with them, as you have come to find.

The beads of sweat forming at your temples coupled with the messy hair and half-opened eyelids was enough to define you as fuckdrunk, that you were sure of. Even still, you steel your will enough to nod in his direction.

“Is that a yes?” he muses, fingertips finding your clit once again.

Proud bastard, you think. Smacking your lips, you utter a simple, ‘yes’. It’s barely a whisper and you think he doesn’t register it, but quickly find out his movements are much faster than your reflexes. Three fingers push themselves inside you, and a thumb finds your clit as he continues to stretch you to what seems like impossibility. 

“Sing for me,” he sighs. “I want the spirits in these forests to awaken to the sounds of your pleasure.”

“I need you inside of me,” you mutter, mustering up enough strength to look at him again. “I want you inside of me.”

“Soon,” he assures, quickening his pace until you feel the familiar pressure pooling at your entrance. “I need you to let go first.” As though compelled to, your body releases, all manner of reason escaping you as your screams are carried by the wind of the woods. Legs trembling, you lose control of every limb as you pant, completely encased by a coating of fulfillment you thought long gone.

Halsin only watches you, whispering something your ears do not pick up. A faint buzzing interrupts all manner of sound as you relax your body until he’s able to catch you in his arms before you land on the ground. The firmness of his chest greets your cheek, where you are able to pick up his racing heartbeat.

“Are you spent for tonight?” he asks, hand sliding up your back until it reaches the back of your head.

Quickly, you shake your head. “No. I’m just… I didn’t expect this, is all,” you confess. He hums in approval, and positions you atop his thigh while still kneeling. Your leg bumps against his hardness and he hisses, praising the Oak Father’s blessings before turning to look at you.

“You’re pooling for me,” he smirks. “Had I known you were this eager, I would have done this long ago.”

In response, you begin grinding against the flexed muscle, grabbing hold of his bicep to steady your rhythm. It didn’t take long for the need to take hold, and you soon find yourself moaning as you continue moving against his thigh. You glance down to his cock, licking your lips at the sight of the dribble going down the shaft.

As though challenging him, he swiftly grabs hold of your waist, pushing you onto the cold ground with a soft thud. You lay there, blinking up at him. His hand caresses the curve of your body until it reaches your core. There, he spreads your lips apart, sighing approvingly when he hears the squelching sound of your desire for him. Using a finger to trace your cunt, he lifts it to his lips and begins licking away without breaking eye contact. 

“So tender, so delicious…” he comments, sucking his own fingers until only his spit coats them.

You attempt to shimmy, feeling the stickiness of his cock meet your folds once you move closer to him. His head drops at the contact, a growl escaping his lips when he looks down.

“Can you take me, my heart?” he questions, grabbing his member and lining himself at your entrance.

You bite your lip, taking the moment to admire the beast of a man whose cock was prodding at your entrance—tapping with feather-light touches, enough to drive you to moan.

“Yes, please,” you beg again, searching for grace in his expression—the grace that would compel him to fuck you.

He pushes slowly, enough to give you the accommodation you know you will need. Once you feel him coating himself in you is when he finally moans—deeply—slamming a hand against the dirt to restrain himself. Halsin was thickest at the top, and his mushroom-like head felt as though it split through every fiber of your being even with caution. To say you were not expecting him to split you apart so early was an understatement, but when his hand finds your clit, your wincing turns into mewing as you attempt to swallow his every inch.

Taking the time to push and pull against his cock to the same rhythm of your breaths, you find that the druid has some trouble keeping calm.

“You are a tight little thing,” he chuckles. “Let me in. Open up for me.”

His instructions help you relax enough so he can guide his tip inside you. Once there, you let out a long exhale, suddenly aware of the sweat coating your body. The chills going up your spine are soon replaced by hot flashes once he hits a particularly delicious spot on your clit and you grab a hold of his wrist with both arms, keeping him where you most desire.

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he moans. “While I rather appreciate the snugness of this predicament, I would like to bury my seed deep inside you.”

To this, you only groan. Halsin uses his free hand to wrap around your throat, keeping himself steadied as he positions himself fully on top of you. With one more look, he slides himself deeper, and you wince at the size that is piercing through your core. He growls, tightening his grip on your throat as he attempts to exert some control through sheer willpower alone.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head when a second wave of pleasure coats your body, and you open your mouth to scream. No sound comes, but you feel yourself loosen up completely, giving Halsin the chance to push past until he is buried to the hilt.

The pain that you momentarily feel turns into bliss. You ride the orgasm, clutching onto his wrist as you pulsate on his cock, which only encourages him to push deeper—as though he could. Any further and he would surely be inside your guts. Every ridge, every vein, every curve on his member jabs at your insides, teasing every spot deep inside you—stretching and filling you until you may just burst.

He doesn’t dare move, not yet. He heaves, chest rising and falling as he waits for you to settle. You reach up, touching the fuzziness on his muscles, tracing your hand until it reaches the side of his face. He’s warmer than you know him to be, and you smile at him reassuringly when he gives you a questioning look.

He doesn’t continue.

Instead, you feel yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping as Halsin grabs a hold of you with one arm, positioning you so that you straddle his waist while the other rests against the curve of your ass, keeping you impaled on his cock. You find the prickliness of the tree hit your back and he settles you there before pulling out completely.

The loss of contact causes you to whimper. You look down, finding him slap his member against your folds, slowly pushing between the sensitive nerves, but not enough to enter.

The sound that escapes your lips is part frustration, part eagerness. The arm holding you up is firm, keeping you steadied with no effort whatsoever.

“You have no idea,” he sighs once he traps his tip between your folds. “How much I wish you rut into you. To fill you.”

“So do it,” you provoke, rolling your hips until you feel your entrance beginning to consume him. “I need you to cum inside of me.”

Halsin snarls and straightens you both, hitching you higher until he finds a comfortable spot. With one push, he settles inside you, slowly bouncing you—breasts jerking in tandem with his thrusts. You note his stare and fist his hair, pulling him forward until he captures a nipple into his mouth. Sucking away, you moan at the intensity building inside you for a third time.

Your clit feels sensitive, as though a bruise being rubbed continuously. The only reason your legs are managing to hold is because of his grip, otherwise you are certain they have gone numb. But Halsin shows no mercy, reddening the flesh with his love bites, creating a line until they reach your throat. You feel his fingertips digging into your skin, but whatever pain you will feel tomorrow is nothing in comparison to the euphoria that’s electrifying you. His thrusts become sloppy, hips hitting against yours as he mutters something incomprehensible.

“Take me,” he commands.

Two strokes.

“All of me.”

Three more strokes.

“By the Oak—”

He doesn’t finish his words. A gushing of hotness overwhelms your cunt, as thick, spurts of cum cover your insides. You feel it hitting your most sensitive parts, coating you until you feel the urge to also release. He slams a hand next to you when he stills, bursting with enough seed that you feel certain would plug you entirely. Glancing where his cock meets your core, you see some of it spill out, dropping on the mud between the druid’s legs.

Halsin leans forward until your foreheads touch once again, heaving from the exhaustion that surely has taken hold by now. You push against him, encouraging him to move and allow you room to land on your feet—or at least try to. With a wobble, you balance, spreading your legs until you’re certain you won’t topple over.

The looming figure in front of you suddenly lowers, and you watch him kneel between your legs, focusing intently on your stomach. He presses a kiss there, before saying, “This is good, but not exactly what I had in mind,” he taps against the softness. “I need to fill your belly until it swells completely, full of my cum.”

A shiver runs up your spine. With a finger, he reaches for your entrance, as though examining you. He tuts. “It seems I have my work cut out for me, little one,” he laughs. “Keeping you stuffed is what I intend to do for the rest of our nights together.”

[mamabearneeds-her-dietcoke]

Pictures- Daryl Dixon

summary- Slowing taking down built walls

i didn't proofread this so excuse any spelling mistakes

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When Rick's group first arrived at Alexanderia you were delighted. You were do excited to meet new people, and of course keeping your distance but overall being nice and helping out.

After a couple months of them being there they finally started to warm up to everyone. You had made friends with Michonne and Rick, along with Carl. Sometimes You'd have them over for dinner or offer to watch Judith.

You did however, have your eyes on one special person. You worked in the infirmary here and there and when you did see him it was Carol forcing him to have someone treat his infected cuts. He never said anything to you, just glaring at Carol as she shoves him in the door. It startled you the first time, and when you turned around he stoof there looking at you before lifting his shirt and showing the injury.

nothing needed to be said, you just nodded your head and gestured to the bed as you grabbed supplies and cleaned him up. You mumbled a finished as you threw bloodied tissue and such away and he left.

Even though you worked a bit in the infirmary you also went out on runs quite often and had a good say in how things rolled. Whether the runs were longer or shorter, whenever you returned you always saw him near the gates. You wanted to believe he was making sure you were there but you were never sure.

One day, a couple months after Rick's group joined Alexandria, you opened your door to see daryl holding a small box. "Here. Collected these fer ya. ya don' gotta wear em'." He hands you the box and it's filled with jewelrys and small little knickknacks. "Thank you Daryl." You smile and whether or not he'd admit it, there was a small smirk on his face as he walked away.

You took the box to your dining room table and sorted through it. There were all kinds of necklaces and rings. You could tell they've been cleaned and fixed up. You put on some of the bracelets and necklaces, along with a couple of the rings. There's small little animal figurines, and you put those on your window sill above your sink.

Often times you'd find Daryl sitting on your porch, cleaning his crossbow or fiddling with whatever he managed to find on his runs. You'd bring him a glass of water or lemonade, sometimes a plate of whatever you were cooking. Sometimes You'd ask if he'd try a new recipe, other times the two of you would just sit there in comfortable silence.

It's around 6pm, You walk out to give Daryl his glass of lemonade and you start to walk to your chair on the porch when you feel him grab your hand stopping you. "Sit wit' me." Surprised but not upset you turn back and sit next to him. "Why are ya so nice to me?" He asks. "Why not?" You reply. "Others just look at me weird and keep their distance, You smile at me and invite me in. Whatsup with tha'?" He asks. "Because Daryl. People tend to judge all books by their covers. I like to read the book before I say anything. I know you won't hurt me or be a creep. I trust you." You smile softly at him again, and for a brief moment you could see a small part of his eyes soften.

"You trust me?" He asks, his voice a tone softer then usual. "With my life." Your smile stays unbroken and this was the moment you see him smile, fully smile. "Yer stupid." He chuckles softly and shakes his head looking out in front of him.

"Maybe. But it pays off in this case." You laugh and look to him, taking in all his features. "I'll be right back." You smile to yourself and run inside to grab the Instax camera you found on a run.

You rush back out and sit next to him, putting yourself as close as you can be. You wrap your arm aroun him and hd the camera up. "Smile!" You click the button and the flash goes. You move your arm and pull the picture out, waving it hoping it develops quicker.

"Look." You show him the picture, its you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you. "Ma turn." He takes the camera from you, doing the same as you, putting his arm around you and holding the camera up.

When the picture prints he grabs it and waves it. "Look at us." You smile. "Let me get on of you." You take the camera and point it at him. "Smilee." You say. "don' know how ta smile fer pictures." He says. "Imagine Glenn falling down the stairs." You suggest. He smiles, not at what you suggested, but at you trying to make him smile. You take a picture and grab it.

You smile at the picture you took of him, and you look to him still smiling as he calls your name. Theres a flash, followed by "Daryl!"

"What?" He says. "I could've looked bad and im that I wasn't ready!" You say. "Ya never look bad." He waves the picture in his hand. "You think?" You ask. "If anything I'm the one who looks bad." He looks at he picture in his hands. "See?" He hands you the picture. "Ok I guess its not that bad." You give it back. "Here I'll keep the one of you and the one you took, and you keep the one of me and the one i took." You hand him the other picture.

He puts them in a pocket of his vest. You look at him, his eyes eventually meeting yours, and you can't look away, you see him lean in, a look crossing his face asking for permission. You lean in further connecting your lips with his. "Mind if i spend the night?" He asks. "Not at all." You smile as he kisses you again, moving his arms around you, the same arms that'll be holding you as you drift off to sleep.

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yo what up guys🗣️🗣️

so I have an idea for an angsty pt2 if yall wanna see that, lmk.

don't be afraid to send in requests‼️‼️

peace out luvas see yall later🙌🙌

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: no angst in this one, mostly fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 2,588

A/N: This one was more on the slower side but things are developing and I hope this chapter was still enjoyable for you all

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six (here) | Chapter Seven (coming soon)

———————

Zoro was trying to not read too much into things but he couldn’t help it. Yes he kissed you back because of a moment of pure weakness and selfishness on his part but he still had no clear answer about why you initiated it in the first place. Had it been as you said? That you truly didn’t know the driving force of your actions. Or could it have been a case of some of your memories beginning to trickle to the surface? Instinct taking over whenever you finally felt his touch winning out over your current state of rationality that your amnesia brought. He’d spent most of the afternoon training, pushing himself harder than normal just to take his mind off of it all. He only stopped when he noticed how dark it was getting and knew you needed to eat.

When he knocked at the door to the medical room he waited for you to answer. In the short time he stood there he still couldn’t get used to the fact that this was where he had to go to find you. It felt wrong, it was the main reason he couldn’t sleep restfully anymore. His body had gotten so used to having you beside him night after night for so long that the abrupt change of sleeping on his own again had completely thrown him and not even his intense training and sheer stubbornness was enough to help him find peaceful sleep. Zoro was brought out of his thoughts when the door slowly opened and he met your face coming into view. He knew that initial hazy expression well, you’d been sleeping and then he felt a small sense of pride to see the look of appreciation slip in when you looked him over. In a way it was reassuring to see that even with your memories gone, your physical attraction to him was still there.

Quickly he focused to discuss organising dinner with you seeing as the others still hadn’t returned to the Sunny. It wasn’t strange for long trips on a new island, and coupled with the fact he knew everyone intended to drag out their time before returning to the ship so you and he would be completely alone it was likely no one would return until late that night. Once he agreed to meet you in the kitchen, he turned and headed for the washroom to shower as quickly as he could. He wasn’t a great cook by any means but he didn’t want all of the work to go to you. After he was washed and changed into fresher clothes he walked into the kitchen to the smell of food already cooking on the stove. At the sound of Zoro’s approach you turned and gave him a small smile. “Good news is Sanji left stuff already prepared for us to make dinner. Guess he didn’t trust us to fend for ourselves.” 

“More like he thought I’d destroy his precious kitchen.” Zoro muttered, feeling that the stupid cook had done this to gain a point against him. To show off his fancy cooking skills even when he wasn’t here. 

“Who’s to say I’m not capable of burning the kitchen down?” You asked playfully before turning to stir the food simmering on the stove. “It could be me he doesn’t trust.”

“For one you’re a good cook and two even if you weren’t that moron would forgive you for anything.” Zoro shrugged and stepped further into the room taking charge of the vegetables on the chopping board that needed cut. 

Together you both cooked in content silence, the first real sense of calm settling between you both since the day you woke from your accident. In a way you were glad of nearly falling down the steps and the inexplicable and heavily inappropriate kiss you both shared because it seemed to help get some of the tension out of you both enough to make things bearable. Also the memory you had while you slept also helped settle some of your previous animosity towards the swordsman. Knowing that you had been a part of the crew and that you cared enough to tend to his wounds had only proved what they’d told you from the beginning; you were a pirate like them. You’d joined them, you were a friend. Cautiously you cast a quick glance at Zoro, more than a friend it seemed with him. 

You remembered his defiance to tell you anything just this morning unless you genuinely wanted to know and would listen. Were you ready now? If you were asking that then the answer was probably no. You considered that if you’d had one of your memories come back on their own then perhaps the others would too without outside influence of the others telling you the stories. You jumped when Zoro’s hand touched your shoulder and looked at him, snapping out of your daze. Anxiously you lowered the flame to stop the food from burning in time. Nervously you laughed. “See? Told you it was me that could burn everything.”

“You okay?” Zoro asked, studying you carefully. It was hard to know what was stepping too close to the line or pushing past what you were comfortable with now. If it was still the you that had all of your memories he would have known to ask what was on your mind, able to see for sure that something was heavy in your thoughts, pulling your focus. Now? He had to be gentler than he wanted to be, a simple question without being direct. It was rare for him to have this approach since he favoured the swift and direct method. Zoro lifted his hand away from your shoulder when he realised he’d been touching you all this time. 

The second his hand lifted your eyes flickered to the shoulder, registering the lack of warmth that the momentary touch had brought. Quickly you pushed back the way your body wanted to lean into his hold. You nodded and to Zoro’s question and forced a small smile. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming…”

“About anything in particular?”

“Nothing really.” You mumbled, lifting the spoon to your lips to test if the food needed salvaging after nearly burning it. It was good but it still needed something. “Just letting my mind wander…” Zoro stepped back to let you walked around the kitchen with purpose. You opened one of the cabinets and lifted a small unlabelled jar before returning to the stove. With precision you sprinkled some of the contents into the food and stirred. You took a taste and smiled in satisfaction. Lifting another spoon you took a small helping and offered it to Zoro who was staring at you evenly. “Try.”

Zoro hesitated for a second but took the spoon from your hand to taste the food. Delicious as he knew it would be. “It’s great.” He told you, turning away sharply to grab the plates. “Always is.”

“Good to know but what’s wrong?” You asked, serving out his portion and then your own and took a seat at the table, watching Zoro steadily as he took the spot opposite you. “What did I do?”

“The seasoning.” Zoro finally admitted. “You went straight for it even though you haven’t cooked since waking. You knew where it was and what it was for even though it wasn’t labelled.”

“Oh…” You glanced at the jar on the counter only now seeing how strange it was. “I didn’t even realise. What is it anyway?”

“Something you found way back for me when the stupid cook’s dishes are too sweet.” Zoro explained with a small smile at the memory that he quickly hid by shoving food into his mouth. Even telling you that much felt like he was pushing too much, like he was influencing your thoughts even if it was the truth. He wasn’t going to lie but he felt a small sense of hope when he saw you immediately take the jar. Like it was a sign something was beginning to shake loose in your mind. It was an insignificant thing but he would take it. Now he worried when you were quiet. “Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologising? It’s the truth right?” You shrugged lightly, it wasn’t something Zoro needed to say sorry for. “Sanji does like to favour sweetness, doesn’t he?” 

“Think he does it on purpose sometimes with my food. Dumbass.” Zoro conceded with a small laugh, glad for the slight diversion from the conversation. You bit back your own grin in an attempt to hide it but failed. 

“Oh come on, you’d be bored if he wasn’t here to argue with.” Zoro rolled his good eye at your teasing and pointed his fork at your food. 

"Just hush and eat before it gets cold.”

When the meal was finished and everything cleaned, you joined Zoro in the Crow’s Nest. With just the two of you on the ship it would mean the watch would be shared between you both until any of the others decided to come back. As you took your seat you looked out the window at the bright lights of the large cityscape on the island, your thumb lightly running along your bottom lip as your mind began to drift again. “They'll be fine. We haven’t heard fighting or Marine alerts yet so they’re actually behaving for once.”

You looked over to where Zoro stood, leaning against the large pane of glass instead of sitting anywhere near you. Deep down you knew he spoke the truth, Luffy’s overwhelming excitement and boundless energy would mean that he was just as loud and obvious when fighting. If the city was calm then you didn’t need to worry about your crew. Quickly you tensed at how you considered them ‘yours’ now instead of just ‘the crew.’ That memory you experienced had affected you more than you initially realised. Your attention was grabbed when you heard Zoro hold back a deep breath, you narrowed your eyes slightly in keen scrutiny. He was holding back a yawn, a real one and not that pretend one he’d made earlier when he claimed he was going to nap. “Lie down and sleep Zoro. I'll take first watch.”

“I’m fine.”

“Again with the stubbornness?” You asked accusingly and gestured to the countless seats he could lie down on. “Just lie down okay? I slept earlier. I promise I’ll wake you when I start to feel sleepy.” Zoro stared at you hard and you refused to back down. “Please.”

Zoro swallowed hard and slowly shook his head, for a moment you were ready to insist again but instead anything you were prepared to shout at him stopped in your throat when he pushed away from the wall with a huff and trudged to the closest section of seats and lay down on his back, tucking his hands behind his head lazily. He would pretend to sleep to keep you happy. At the sound of movement, Zoro cracked his good eye open and frowned warily when you moved to sit closer to his head. You still kept some distance but were within touching distance now. “You look like a deep sleeper, have to be closer to shake you awake if I need to.”

Zoro hesitated at your willingness to be closer in proximity to him but again that selfish weakness that he had when it came to you was creeping back. He’d take anything he could get. Even if it was small, even if it meant that when you returned home like you planned to and even if it meant he’d hurt even more he would gladly accept it all, just for a little bit more of you. His eye closed again as he allowed another yawn to build in his chest and this time let it out. You watched Zoro carefully, unable to stop your small smile to see him give in and sleep. Perhaps now Chopper would be less concerned now that the swordsman would be more rested. 

As you stared out the window you absently let your hand settle into Zoro’s hair, unaware you'd done it at first until you felt him lean into your touch in his sleep. When you looked down again and saw the calm in Zoro’s expression your heart fluttered slightly and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull your hand back. He looked as though some weight he’d been holding had lifted now that he was sleeping and relaxed. You bit your lower lip and quickly looked towards the window again to keep watch while your fingers gently continued to move against Zoro’s hair, occasionally massaging against his scalp in between your slow movements. 

It wasn’t long before you noticed movement and the clear outline of people approaching the Sunny. Thanks to the bright moonlight you could see Luffy and the others had returned. Knowing you didn’t need to wake Zoro you carefully moved your hand away from his head and quietly descended the ladder to greet the group as they climbed aboard. “Nice day?”

“Yeah, the city’s great.” Nami answered first, her bright gaze drifting briefly up to the Crow’s Nest before returning her stare to you. “Lots to see and explore. Can’t wait to go back for more shopping.”

“There’s time to go back?” You asked, glancing behind her shoulder to see Sanji skipping on board with a mountain of shopping bags in his arms. Obviously this was the result of Nami’s shopping trip but you noticed a few bookstore bags in his hold too that belonged to Robin. Franky, Usopp, and Chopper carried crates of ship supplies on board and smiled to you in greeting before disappearing to unload what they’d bought.

“Well yeah…that’s kinda the bad news. For you I suppose.” The navigator broached the subject delicately. “Log pose will take three weeks to set. I’m sorry it’s not sooner than you’d like but it just means we can gather as much to stock the ship for the long journey back to your island. I hope you’re not mad.”

“Oh well it can’t be helped, right?” You asked with a small laugh, surprising Nami. All day she’d been expecting your annoyance and wish to just get home the second they had enough supplies to last them the trip back. “Well I’ll go wake Zoro. It’s Luffy’s turn for watch right?” You asked with a nervous smile before turning to go up to the Crow’s Nest while Luffy bounced happily behind you, telling you about the things he’d seen on the island and in the city. 

Nami stared at you curiously as you left. Did you seem happy that you were here a little longer? She knew better than to ask outright or let on that she suspected a change in you, but she was going to watch you a lot closer now. While she was desperate to know what happened between you and Zoro while you were alone all day she had to restrain herself. Three weeks was a long time and she was certain that there was going to be a lot more to come. She let out an amused hum as she watched you and Luffy appear in the window of the Crow’s Nest, waking Zoro. At the same time Robin stepped beside her. “Three weeks, hm? I could have sworn that store owner told you and I the pose would set in three days.”

“Well what the others don’t know, won’t hurt them. Right?”

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