#it doesn’t help that we may have to cancel our trip to see my family tomorrow bc we got exposed to covid and my parents r high risk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoseokslefteyebrow · 3 years ago

Text

Bon 4oyage || K.SJ

Episode 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin X Reader Summary: In which you're Jin's girlfriend of 9 years and tag along in Bon Voyage Season 4. Wordcount: 3.4k

" Y/N ah, tell me, do you have any plans for the (random date) till the (another random date)? " Your boyfriend of nine years asks you suddenly.

The two of you are simply chilling in your shared apartment.

" Not as far as I'm concerned, why? " You ask, sitting down beside him.

You were cleaning up the apartment before he asked you.

" Y'know the boys and I will be going on Bon Voyage again, right? " He asks you, lacing your fingers together.

You hum with a pout.

" Yeah, it's my annual miss Jin ti-"

" Not this year love. " He cuts you off, a smile on his lips.

You raise a brow in confusion.

" Not this year? "

" Yeah, I've asked the company, once again. And this time, they actually agreed. " He tells you with shining eyes.

A smile makes it's way onto your face.

" Really?! "

It was, in a way, hard to believe. The company liked you, but never actually approved of Jin having a relationship. When you became a couple back in 2010, the two of you had to keep it a secret for 4 years for the company, and another 5 years to the public. Until now, you didn't think that they would be okay with you going public.

You couldn't believe it. Finally your waiting for each other got paid off.

" Yes. However, there are a few downsides. " He tells you, making a bit of a turtle face.

You subconsciously run your thumb over his hand.

" Just so you know, I will not come if I have to wear a mask for the whole thing-"

" No, no. -" He laughs.

" Even worse. We can't have sex. For like a little longer than a whole week. " He tells you.

You snort at his expression. You can tell it's genuinely bothering him.

" Is that an issue for me or you? " You ask him.

He huffs, turning around so he can lay against you instead. You run your unoccupied hand through his hair. Sure it's basically dead, but you know he likes it.

" Both. I know your sex drive, plus that also means like, no sleeping naked. And I have to share your attention with the other boys. " He pouts.

You grin, bending over to kiss his head.

" Don't worry, it'll be fine, fun even. We'll just have a pg family trip. "

And so you find yourself seated at a restaurant between your boyfriend and Taehyung. They're about to kick off the season, and today you're just going to talk about activities and what not.

" There's trekking and a lavender farm. " Hoseok comments as he looks at his phone.

" That sounds fun. " You comment, as the other boys give their own opinions.

After a bit more of catching up, the staff calls out to all of you.

" You've all done your research, right? " The staff member asks.

You all hum in response.

" Worry about the activities later, pick the accommodations first. " The producer tells all of you.

Soon enough everyone's talking again, figuring stuff out.

" We have to sleep in a campervan for three days. " Yoongi suddenly casually pops when you're drinking your tea.

You almost choke.

" eight of us in a campervan? How is that going to fit? "

" eight of us in one campervan won't be comfortable. " Taehyung agrees with you.

" We'll probably have 2 vans. " Jin tells the two of you.

" Y'know, there's this thing I've always wanted to try- When you wake up in a campervan and then wash up in the river. " Jungkook smiles.

You blink at him.

" You want to wash up in the cold? " You ask him.

He grins.

" If I can manage, yes. It'll be fun. " He nods.

" We didn't do research that thoroughly. " Namjoon tells the crew honestly.

" Forget on where to stay! We'll figure that out somehow. Let's focus on the activities first. " Jin calls out, basically canceling the producer's idea.

Soon enough everyone starts coming with ideas.

Jimin wants to go to Aurora¿ and on a boat. Yoongi just wants to go fishing and Namjoon wants to go on a kart trek.

" I want to go on the swing too." Jin says.

" The swing? " Namjoon asks surprised.

Namjoon had this great idea to go do some kind of bungee jump activity, just with a swing, as if that would magically make it better.

Jin hums.

" Yeah, it'll be fun with Y/N. We can both scream our heads off. " He smiles at you.

You laugh, swallowing your bite.

" Okay. But that does me we really are going, okay? No backing out last minute. " You tell him, knowing he's a scaredy cat sometimes.

He laughs.

" Yah! It's not like you're any better. " He points out.

You laugh.

That's true.

" Okay, okay, I promise. Do you? " You ask him, holding out your pink.

He smiles, taking your hand instead and kissing the top of it, sending you a wink playfully.

None of the boys mind either of you by now, knowing the way you two act longer than a while.

" I promise, m'lady. "

" We just sealed our death. " You laughed.

" We did. " He laughs with you.

" Well, at least we'll die together. " You tell him.

He smiles at you and winks again.

" That we do. "

By the the two of you tune back in, they're talking about trekking.

" It only takes 2 hours to finish. " Yoongi speaks.

Apparently they're talking about Mount Cook.

Soon enough they're all talking, and giving their opinions on it.

" It's really only a few hours, we should do it. " You catch Yoongi saying.

Jin hums in agreement, slurping in his noodles.

You raise your brow at both of them.

" Bet, you two will regret it. " You tell Yoongi, who smiles at you and shakes his head.

He makes an over confident face.

" We'll be fine, we'll have fun, don't worry. " He tells you.

" Should we stay in the campervan the whole time? " Jungkook suddenly wonders.

You make a face but don't say anything.

The editors do catch it, as does Taehyung. He nudges you with a smile.

" We'll all stink by the third day. " You tell him softly.

He laughs.

Sleeping in a campervan with eight people doesn't sound too appealing for the whole week.

" We can play Halli Galli. " Your boyfriend adds helpfully.

" And BTS Uno! " Namjoon adds too.

" Camping for sure. " Someone pops, probably Jungkook.

" Does anyone know anything about camping? What do we need? " Namjoon asks.

" Well, we start with a tent. " Hoseok provides helpfully.

" I've camped a few times with my brother and his friends. Most stuff is usually inside the campervan." You tell them.

Jimin adds onto that, explaining most stuff to Namjoon, like a table that's built in.

" Let me see the campervan? " Jungkook asks.

" It's huge. " Hoseok responses.

" If it's that big, will it be easy to drive? " Jin asks.

" The road will probably be mostly empty. " Namjoon points out.

" We do need shower facilities. It's not like we can shower outside. " Yoongi points out.

" We don't need to shower. " Jin says vaguely.

You give him a disgusted face.

" Oh yes we do. " You tell him.

" I want to too. " Jimin says.

" We have to think of the rest too. " Yoongi tells Jin.

" I normally shower though. " Jin says.

" Yeah I know. " Yoongi grins.

" You better. " You say with a scrunched nose.

Jimin laughs.

" Happy wife happy life, hyung. " Jimin tells the eldest.

Jin turns to you and looks blankly at you for a second. You raise your brows before flipping your hair over your shoulder sassily, returning your attention to your meal.

" No, I do take showers everyday, and my lady knows, thank you very much. " He grins playfully, one of his hands going under the table to rest on your thigh.

After a bit more of discussing about Jin's shower habits, the producer cuts in.

" We do need to choose an accommodation besides the campervan. " He points out.

You breathe happily as Tae grins at you.

For a moment it's a bit of chaos, most of the boys pointing out a 9.7 rated accommodation.

With a bathtub.

As soon as it comes into view, Jin turns to you, and you give him a cheeky smile back, yet shake your head.

Rules are rules.

However, a moment later they're looking at a different accommodation, with cramped rooms.

" it'll be fun. Like old times. " Jungkook smiles.

A moment later they're back at discussing the campervan.

" Jungkook and I will drive mostly though. " Hoseok calls out.

" I don't mind driving. " Hoseok tells the others.

" I'll get a driver's license on our days off too. " Namjoon pouts.

" I can drive. " You tell them.

Almost everyone turns to beam at you.

" No, no. Not you, you drive like we're in Fast & Furious. " He points out.

You grin.

" Then she can be back up driver. " Yoongi gives you fake hope.

" Back up driver? We already have enough drivers though.-"

" Yeah, we can't have you drive on national tv. " Jin says quickly.

You laugh but don't bother with it.

This can only mean you'll be in charge of the audio right?

Soon after they're making a song about Bon Voyage.

You can't really follow, but you clap along anyway.

The scene wraps up with everyone clapping.

A Few Months Later

" Yah! I went shopping with Y/N especially for this! " Jin says as his bandmates bully him.

You don't pay a lot of attention, instead busy with helping the boys pack the last stuff and checking up on everyone.

Soon enough a staff asked you aside.

" Yeah? " You asked her.

" This is for you, as you're coming with and the boys' are sponsored by Fila. The company thought it'd be nice if you'd at least have a jacket of the same brand too. " She smiles.

" Oh, that's really nice. Thank you. " You smile at her.

She hands you a soft pink wintercoat. It's admittedly not your colour, nor your style, but you take the jacket gratefully, happy that they at least thought of you.

" I look good in whatever I wear. " You hear Jin say.

You come up to the mirror beside him, checking out the jacket on yourself.

" Noona, your jacket looks nice on you too. " Jungkook compliments you.

You smile at him.

" Thank you! A staff member gave it to me, it's from the company. " You beam.

And then they're arguing over Namjoon's accent.

" We may be in the same group, but during our days off, I only saw Jimin hyung and Hobi hyung. And Y/N Noona. " Jungkook tells the camera, smiling cheekily at him as you give him a look.

You too went to visit him on his birthday.

" Yah! I called you so often! " Jin argues.

Jungkook doesn't bother with Jin's complaint.

From there the talk is mostly chaotic. First Jin's asking about an extra suitcase (which is really yours), Taehyung is showing of his Ramen noodles, Jimin has finally arrived and you found out that Yoongi's washing up.

" At least someone showers. " You tease your boyfriend as you nudge him playfully, thinking of the small meeting a few months back.

" Yah! I shower too! You of all people know that. " He shakes his head, playing along.

You grin.

Soon enough you engage in small talk with Namjoon, and you can hear Jin somewhere in the back.

" Compared to when you went to Malta-" The staff member begun.

" We took a lot more this time, didn't we? " Jin says.

" My pillow, something to hug when I have to sleep separately from Y/N, a down coat, fleece, pajamas. I also packed some slippers. And some of Y/N's clothes didn't fit it her suitcase, so it's in mine. " Jin laughs.

" Do we need to bring shampoo and conditioner? " Jin asks a few moments later as everyone's seated together on the couch.

" We should bring our own, we might not be able to bring them. " Yoongi points out.

" I'm taking mine with me, you guys can use it too if you don't mind smelling like fruit. " You shrug.

" We can also get them at the airport. " Jungkook suggests.

" Right, Duty-Free. "

And then they suddenly spring to the topic of food, and before hopping over to talking about who's going to be the accountant.

You don't bother adding in on that, you've never traveled with a group of eight before, and you aren't really willing to try when it comes down to it. After that, you're all tacking up your suitcases.

Soon after they're suddenly grabbing some random bags, and Hoseok finds money.

How they forget money, you don't know.

You all sing the new Bon Voyage theme song before you finally set off towards the airport.

" Did you search for 'huge luggage' when you bought your bag? " Yoongi teases Jungkook, though his bag is just as big.

You're walking in front of the two, your left arm linked with Jin's right, your suitcase in your right hand and your backpack on top of it.

You turn to give him a look.

" I'm pretty sure we all did. " You point out.

After a moment of rare silence (The only thing you hear is the rolling of suitcases), Jin claps again.

" Bon Voyage! "

" Why is no one reacting? " He asks the camera with a grin.

" Bon Voyage! " Jungkook pitches in late.

A moment later, the scene cuts, and you all get on the bus.

You sit in the back with Jungkook and Hoseok.

" How did you spend your vacations? " The producer asks them.

They all each start talking about their vacation.

Yoongi mentions his finished mixtape, Namjoon visited lots of museums and went to Europe, Hoseok points out about how he hasn't seen most of them in a while, Jimin basically went everywhere, from Korea to Russia, and Jungkook worked on some songs.

" Jin what did you do in the vacation? " A staff member asks.

You snort.

" I spent half the time sleeping and half the time playing games. " He admits.

" I went on dates with Y/N too. " He says quickly after.

" It's no surprise, at least he made time for you. " Namjoon grins, looking at you.

" I forced him. " You joke.

" I wasn't that bad. But I mostly did play games whenever Y/N wasn't around. Or slept. " He nods along to his own words sleepily.

" Then I realized I couldn't keep living like that, and so I met up with some friends too. " He laughed.

" You had an important realization. " Hoseok comments.

" I did. " Jin grins

After that came the question of Taehyung's where abouts and he mostly traveled the outskirts with friends. Most were shook when he mentioned one of his friends already being married. Jin too gave you a quick glance at the mention of marriage. Taehyung also mentioned working on a few songs too. Hoseok came soon after, and he mostly worked on his solo song 'Chicken Noodle Soup', and chilled at his apartment.

After that they spoke about their pets. When the question came if you had any, you shook your head, though you did mention that your parents owned two cats.

After that you all got a 'travel guide' made by crew for New Zealand. You didn't open it yet, instead opting to read through on the plane.

Before you know it, you've all arrived at the airport.

And before you know it, you and Jin are waving the other boys off.

" Bye guys! "

" Bye! "

" Have a safe flight! "

" So they can't come? " Jimin asked, as Yoongi did so at the same time.

" They can. " The staff answered shortly.

" Huh, so you can't? " Jungkook asks you, still confused.

" No, we can, we'll just have to take a different flight, we'll probably arrive a few hours later. " Jin tells Jungkook.

" We have a connecting flight, we'll probably arrive around the same time. " Yoongi points out.

" As long as you two can come it's fine. " Jungkook comments.

[ Due to issues with Y/N and Jin's travel documents, the two are unable to board the same flight as the members. Luckily, they're able to take a different flight, and arrive an hour later. ]

Time flies, and before you know it, the two of you are walking in the airport, just having checked in.

" Y'know, I might as well have forgotten my password. " Jin jokes.

You shake your head.

The humor appeared to be low budget.

Soon after he's catching up with Army through the camera, simply babbling about his plans as you too listen, until,

" Oh, is that RJ? " He wonders, looking at a shop.

You sigh.

" Oh please not again, we have so many of them-"

" Let's be cute and get matching RJ's Y/N. I'll pay. " He says, pulling you along with him as your arms are once again looped.

Before you know it, the two of you are at the check out, with two matching RJ plushies. He's got a pretty big one, while you've got a smaller, cuter one.

Soon enough it is time to get on your flight, and time,, flies,, by.

" Now, we are going to find the other members. " Jin informs the camera as the two of you finally walk out of the airport.

A crew member tells him it's all good like this, and he turns the camera off, handing it to the staff member.

" Don't you think it's a little awkward to talk to a camera? " You ask Jin as the two of you and two other staff members get on a cab thing to go to the other members.

He shrugs, holding out a hand for you to help you get in the car as the car has a bit of a elevation.

" Not really, we're pretty used to having camera's on us by now. " He tells you honestly.

You hum, and soon enough everyone's in the car, and easy conversation flows through.

It doesn't take all too long before you're at the destination.

Once you are spotted by the other members in the parking lot, Hoseok is the first to hop over, basically jumping on your boyfriend.

You chuckle, being used to their way of greeting each other.

" Y/N! " Hobi smiles, looping an arm around your shoulder casually as he leads to the rest, just as Jimin literally hops onto Jin.

Jimin fetches your suitcases as Jin is quickly waved inside to do training.

As Jin goes inside, you turn to help Jimin, Hoseok's arm falling off as you do so.

" Wait, let me help with that. " You call, jogging over to help him.

The two of you get it done quickly, and soon enough you're being informed by staff of the facility about the campervan.

The water seems to be a bit of a problem.

" Look, how about we all shower together?" Jungkook suggests.

" Except for Y/N of course. " jungkook adds quickly as both you and Jin send him a look.

" Let's coordinate time. " Hoseok suggests.

" Yah, how do we do that? We can't control everything! " Jin complains.

Luckily, the staff comes with a solution.

" There's holiday parks, campervans can go there too. They have shower and toilet accommodations. " He quips helpfully.

" That sounds much better. " You laugh.

" Okay, let's only use the campervan's toilet for emergency. " Yoongi adds.

" If you're about to die. " Namjoon pops.

" Let's shower all at once too. " Jungkook keeps trying.

" We can't shower long. "

" Only 5 minutes, after that, cut the water. " Jin says, as does Hoseok.

A ton of questions later, everyone's once again getting their suitcases, and Yoongi loads it into the campervan. Soon after all of you are clapping along again.

" Jungkook did you bring your dumbbells again? " Jin jokes.

" That's not my suitcase. " Jungkook informs.

" That's mine actually, sorry. " You grin, not actually feeling sorry.

Once that's over with, there's a small discussion about who's driving what car. It settles with Jungkook driving the campervan and Jin driving the SUV.

" Where are we going? " You hear most around you asking.

" The guide book mentioned (a random restaurant). " You tell them.

" Alright, if you say so. " Jin says, already getting the navigation started without further questions.

The other car either can't hear you or doesn't listen, as they instead listen to the producer, who agrees with you.

[ A/N: Oh my god this is a 3.4 k chapter folks,, never done dat before. Anyway, how did you guys like it? Also, no, there will be no smut in this story, but keep in mind that Jin & reader are both of age and in a 9 year relationship. ]

#bts #jin x reader #bts bon voyage #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts ot7 #bts series #bts ff

83 notes · View notes

jamielea81 · 4 years ago

Text

Conversations

Bonus Chapter: Colorado

Description: Takes place a year and a half after the first bonus chapter Back to the Beginning. The reader and Chris are married with life changes ahead. Original description for the series Conversations: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader, Scott Evans

Warning: Slightly NSFW (18+ only!), cursing, talk of pregnancy, fluff, Grumpy and Sassy shenanigans.

A/N: Look who finally wrote a bonus chapter for Conversations! This girl, right here! Just a little timestamp in the reader and Chris’ life. And of course we needed some Scott time. You do not have to read the series to read this one shot, but it doesn’t hurt. Reblogs, comments, asks, what have you, I enjoy.

Italics are internal thoughts

“Honestly, love, it’s fine,” you spoke softly into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice even. The last thing you want is for him to feel worse than he already does.

“I don’t know…” Chris trailed off. “Usually, when women say the word fine, they really don’t mean, fine.”

“Such a guy,” you chuckle. “I promise, Scott and I are going to have a terrific time. He’s taking care of me and promised not to get us into any trouble.” You raise an eyebrow at your travel companion seated next to you in the hired car.

Chris laughed and then followed it up with a groan. “That does not make me feel better. Put me on speaker.”

You rolled your eyes but did as he asked or rather demanded. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“Scott, you better take care of my wife. She’s precious cargo. And she’s carrying precious cargo. So, it’s extra precious cargo.”

You laughed; hand automatically going to your stomach. You were four months along and just starting to show. Family and close friends knew the two of you were expecting your first child, but the tabloids had not caught wind. The two of you had been going back and forth on whether to let People Magazine do an exclusive cover shoot when baby Evans is born. The money earned from People would be donated to charity which was the only reason you were even considering it. Plus, the whole you two breaking the news rather than the public finding out when you weren’t ready. Chris wanted to be the one to introduce his child to the world rather than having paparazzi sneaking into your backyard to get a picture. You couldn’t argue with him there.

“Would you relax! You’re going to give yourself a coronary and then I’d have to take care of both precious cargos and you don’t want that.” Scott shouted.

I really hope the driver doesn’t recognize Scott.

You smacked his arm, taking the call off speaker and bringing it back to your ear. “Chris, we are both going to be just fine. The plane ride was as relaxing as any plane ride can be and we are almost to the hotel. Scott and I are going to pamper ourselves and eat lots of great food. Work is important and I completely understand.”

Chris got called back to Los Angeles for reshoots that he couldn’t get out of. He planned a couple of mini babymoons and this was going to be the first one. Because of your advanced age – insert eyeroll – your doctor had mentioned it may not be safe to travel a lot once you were six months along. Chris took this seriously and booked a trip to Colorado at a gorgeous snowy mountain resort. There wouldn’t be any skiing, just loads of alone time and cuddling by the fireplace. When Chris had to cancel, Scott stepped in and volunteered the cuddles.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you. I’m just disappointed our romantic getaway is now being shared with Scott. My brother,” he said, voice in mock disgust.

“It’s fine. Scott and I haven’t hung out just the two of us in forever.” Scott reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Have a great time and rest please.”

“You know I will. I love you, babe. Say hi to Pedro for me,” you said, smile evident in your voice.

“I will. Love you too.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Evans?” The check in clerk, Barbara according to her nametag asked.

“That’s right,” Scott chimed in, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Newlyweds.”

You forced a smile and bit the inside of your cheek so that you wouldn’t laugh.

“Congratulations!” she replied with a sweet smile on her face.

She tapped her chin with her index finger before going back to her keyboard. “Let’s see what I can do here,” Barbara replied, typing away on the computer in front of her. “We have you in a one-bedroom suite with a mountain view, but,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I’m moving the two of you to one of our honeymoon suites.”

Scott gasped and slapped his hand on the countertop. “That’s mighty nice of you,” he spoke in a fake southern accent.

Where did that come from?

“Me and the misses really appreciate it. Don’t we honey?” he asked, turning his attention back to you.

“My pleasure,” Barbara said before you could reply, laying two room keycards on the counter next to Scott’s hand.

You smiled brightly but kept your mouth closed, so afraid of letting a chuckle out or saying the wrong thing. Scott steered you away from the counter, placing a hand on your bottom.

Once you turned the corner to the bank of elevators, you yanked Scott’s hand off your behind.

“Newlyweds. Really?”

“It got us an upgrade, didn’t it dear?”

The first night you were fine. Scott kept you occupied with stories of the single life and the wonders of online dating. You weren’t sure how he did it. Or rather, how he didn’t. After he told you about the guy who wore Barney the dinosaur underwear in a child’s size husky, you laughed until you cried.

“But did you still sleep with him?” you asked wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Sassy! Of course not. Barneeeeyyyy,” he drawled out.

Shrugging your shoulders, you got up to grab yourself a tissue from the bathroom. Coming back in the room, Scott was on his phone, fingers swiping feverously. You plopped down on the couch, tucking one leg under yourself.

“Here,” Scott said, handing you his phone. On screen was what you would refer to as tall, dark, and handsome.

“He’s hot,” you said, passing the phone back to him.

“Barney.”

“No,” you gasped.

Scott sighed before he started to laugh which got you going once again.

The second day you weren’t so fine. The two of you ordered breakfast in the suite. Pancakes dripping with syrup, crispy thick cut bacon, sausage links, a bowl of mixed fruit, and decaf coffee because Scott was in solidarity with you on your caffeine hiatus.

“Let’s go for a walk. There are tons of trails that the resort clears of snow. I need to work off this breakfast,” Scott said patting his stomach.

“You and me both,” you said, getting up to put on actual clothes instead of the pajamas you were still wearing.

“You are so lucky. Get to eat whatever you want and can just blame it on the baby.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face him, lower lip slightly wobbling. Since the minute you found out you were pregnant, you found it really hard to control your emotions. You knew Scott didn’t mean anything by the commit, but your brain couldn’t help itself.

“I have to work really hard to be healthy. It’s bad enough the doctor said I’m old.” A sob escapes your lips. The tears already starting to roll down your cheeks. “I can’t have any caffeine, can’t eat a lot of my favorite foods, have to cut back on my salt. My salt! You know fries are my jam. Doesn’t help that my husband is built like a fucking Greek God. I’m not a model or an actress. I already feel like Dodger’s poo compared to him.”

Scott was out of his seat before you could utter another word. Strong arm pulling you to his chest while one hand cradled your head.

“Stop that. You are fucking beautiful and frankly my bonehead brother is lucky you agreed to marry him. Do you even know how many times I have had to leave the room in the last two months when he starts talking about you growing his child inside you and that it turns him on?” Scott pulls away slightly an emulates puking.

“Stop,” you said, burying your head in his neck.

“Why is my neck wet, Sassy.”

“It’s snot,” you said with a chuckle, wrapping your arm around him and holding on tight.

“You two are meant for each other.”

After a minute he pulled away and grasped both of your hands. “I’m with you in any way you need. If you need a healthy eating buddy, I am your man. If you want to say ‘to hell with it’, I’ll pick up McDonalds for the two of us every day if you like.”

You wiped at your eyes and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I love you Grumpy.”

“Love you too,” he replied and then clapped his hands together. “So, are we napping or are we walking?”

“Walking,” you stated, making your way into the bedroom to finally get changed.

That evening, the two of you got dressed up and went to your dinner reservation at the hotel where you were addressed as Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Scott stuck to sparkling water even though you encouraged him to get an alcoholic beverage.

“I don’t need to drink to be the life of the party. You know that.”

He wasn’t wrong. He’d kept you entertained even without the raspberry liquor he force fed you years ago.

“I think we need a dance party when we get back to the room. For old time sakes. Before I am too big to shake it.”

“Done and done.”

The night ended in a bubble bath with both you and Scott in your swimsuits in an oversized soaking tub. Dozens of pictures were taken with many going to your husband. Rather than a text in return, he called.

“What is this? My brother movin’ in on my wife?”

“Babe! You know that it was me and Scott from the start,” you teased.

Chris chuckled. “You go away for a couple of days and it’s like that.”

“You know you are my one and only. Scott’s just making me smile.”

“I know baby. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you said.

The next day you were weepy. As much as you tried to put on a happy face, you were missing Chris. Pregnancy hormones or not, Chris had been working a lot and you had barely seen each other. This romantic babymoon wasn’t what you had in mind. Yes, spending it with your best friend was great, but it wasn’t the same.

The fire place was roaring while Magic Mike was queued up on the flat screen. You and Scott were dressed in jeans and cable knit sweaters with fuzzy socks on your feet. The snow was coming down heavy which was fine with you since neither of you had any place to be.

Pop in hand, though you wouldn’t let Scott hear you call soda that, diet for you, regular for him, the only thing you were needing was Dodger’s wet nose on your stomach and Chris.

“You know, Chris can do that,” you said pointing at the screen where one of the dancers picked up an audience member like she weighed a pound.

“No. Stop. Do not ruin this movie for me. I do not need to picture what you and my brother do.”

“Scott, you do know where babies come from, right?”

“Gross.”

You chuckled, standing up to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Why you brought up Chris when you already cried twice this morning was beyond you. After using the bathroom, you cleaned up your face and stepped back into the living room of your suite.

Scott draped himself over the couch, phone in hand, eyes shifting between the screen of his phone and the TV.

“I think I’m going to take another bath. Need to relax a little bit.”

Scott looked up. “Not too hot.”

“Yes, dad,” you said, offering him a mock salute.

You kept the bath water warm, but added extra oils and bubbles to make it feel more luxurious. The lights were off but a few candles were lit and your phone played 90s R&B. You snapped a pic of your soapy legs and sent it to Chris. Within a few minutes you had a reply.

Chris: My brother better not be in there

Y/N: I’m all alone

Chris: We can’t have that

You heard the door open and you scolded yourself for not locking the door. This text conversation seemed to be heading into rated R territory. You did not need Scott to witness that.

“Scott,” you drawled out. “I’m not wearing my suit tonight. Get out of here.”

When you heard the distinct sound of a belt buckle, you turned around. Rather than Scott dropping his pants, it was Chris.

You gasped, mouth hanging open.

“Room for one more sweetheart?”

You nodded your head unable to form words but those tears had no trouble forming.

Chris continued to undress while you tried your best to compose yourself. He joined you a moment later slipping in behind you.

“How? I thought you were working.”

“I put in some long hours so that I could get to you. I was miserable without you.”

“I know that feeling,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest. Chris lightly rubbing your stomach before sliding his hands up to your breasts, fingers tips rubbing against your nipples. “Babe, did you lock the door?” you asked.

“Don’t worry, I got Scott another room.”

You reached your left hand behind you grabbing on to Chris’ head bringing his mouth to yours. Chris kissed you deeply, your back automatically arching at the taste of his tongue.

“Was he mad?” you asked.

“I don’t even care,” he replied, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Neither do I.”

Tagging: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @xoxabs88xox @heartislubbingdubbing @twittytelly @linki-locks11 @ab-baybay @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @rvgrsbrns @icanfeelastormbrewing @kitkat1690 @smilexcaptainx @dangerouslovefanfic@kelbabyblue @sweetlittlegingy @dont-need-another-fandom @chrisevansforever @evansxxx @southerngracela @bitterstar88 @squirrelnotsam @kitkatd7 @marvelislove10 @the-doctors-fallen-angel @hista-girl @cocomel0613 @also-fangirlinsweden @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7 @lakamaa12 @deidrashouseofpain @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @zestygingergirl @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng @michelehansel @fanfictionaffair @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today @jessyballet @capstopavenger @wiczer @titty-teetee

#chris evans #scott evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fic #chris evans imagine #conversations

268 notes · View notes

loving-all-for-loki · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! May I request a Loki x reader fic Hogwarts AU pleaseee. Student Loki and reader being frenemies, always fighting and playing pranks. On a particular day they cause chaos in potions class, so Prof Snape chew them out and gives them detention. Some detention fun. Eventual smut is highly appreciated 😁 I really hope you will write Hogwarts au and is okay with this request 💜💜💜

A/N: I am so okay with this request, are you kidding?! I’ve been so nervous to write AUs for some reason so I needed this push, haha. This is going to be a three part story so I’ll post part two tomorrow and part three the next day. This one is a little short, but the other will be longer. I hope you like it!

Never Meant It Pt. 1

Summary: Loki Laufeyson and Y/N has never gotten along in school, that is until Prof. Snape sends this to detention and they have to face their differences.

Pairing: Slytherin!Loki x reader

Word count: 1467

Warnings: Hogwarts AU, frenemies, angst, language (lots of language)

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Loki Laufeyson is a pain in my ass. Somehow, this year the world decided to screw me over and put me in every class with him. It could be worse, though. We have our moments where we hate each other, but he is funny and kind. I can’t lie, but moments like this make me so mad at him. I hate detention and the only reason I’m here is that idiot.

Loki comes from this big powerful family, kind of like the Malfoys. My uncle would tell me about that family and the terror they’d reign because of their power and control and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the Odinsons are some relatives. Loki is the only one I can stand in that family and I think it’s because he’s adopted. His brother Thor and sister Hela are irritable, constantly trying to prove themselves better than the others. Fortunately for us, the prankster brother Loki gave up that competition our first year at Hogwarts. I think he fears Snape and Dumbledore more than his siblings.

So instead of reigning terror on others, Loki decided to reign terror on me. Why? I’m not sure. The other girls in my house say it’s because he likes me, but I highly doubt it. They overheard him talking about some girl he likes, but they didn’t catch a name. I think they just filled in my name because they have a crush on him and him liking me is the closest they’ll ever get to him liking them back.

I’ve never talked to Loki about that conversation because I don’t want to look like a freak, but I am curious. He’s talked to me from time to time until last year when he decided he wanted to be my best friend, but quite the contrary, we became frenemies. He’ll prank me or tease me, I’ll get mad and yell at him, then he’ll apologize. Sometimes he’ll trip me in the hallways in front of his friends, but then buy me a butterbeer whenever we go to Hogsmeade.

A couple of days ago, Loki must have woken up on the wrong side of his bed because all day he had been in a mood. His raven black hair wasn’t styled like how it always is and he didn’t bother putting on his uniform except for his robe. He was sleeping during classes and skipping lunch.

As I wandered my way to potions, I spotted Loki walking up the stairs with a somber look on his face. I’ve never seen him so sad before. He’s usually so full of energy and mystery. It almost hurts to see him this way even if he bothers me so much. His friends are nowhere to be seen so I kept walking to potions.

I sat down in my seat and waited for Loki’s arrival. Professor Snape wasn’t in the classroom yet and some of the students started to get restless. They were excited that class might be cancelled but my mind was stuck on Loki. He finally entered and sat down next to me, resting his head on his arms. I looked at him for a while, waiting for a jest or insult, but nothing came.

“Loki?”

“Shut up.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and kept staring at him. He’s never been so direct with me before. There was no humor or a joking tone in his voice.

“Is everything okay?” “I said shut up.”

“No, I’m not going to. You’re not okay and I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be. Don’t pretend like you care, you mewl.”

Rage flowed through my body. He’s never been like that. We make fun of each other, but it’s always a joke. We never really meant it and here he was an ass. I readjusted myself in my seat and looked forward at the other students who are now throwing paper airplanes and making things levitate.

A loud slam flowed through the classroom as Professor Snape walked in. He must have had a rough morning too because he seemed more stoic and irritated than normal (which says a lot because he always looks highly annoyed).

“Stop the shenanigans and open your books. We will be learning the Draught of Peace potion today. Gather your materials.”

The students opened their books and ran around for their ingredients. I noticed that Loki didn’t move from his seat, but instead held up his head with his hand. Feeling bad for him, I gather two of each item for him. I placed them down on his portion of the desk. I didn’t expect a thank you, but he didn’t even acknowledge the act which made me even more mad.

“Now, start following the instructions.”

Professor Snape isn’t my favorite professor because I think half the time he doesn’t care about us learning something, but instead just wants to see us fail and then yell at us for it. He just likes us drinking potions and getting injured. I think he's a masochist.

I turned to see Loki sheepishly making his potion. His hands were shaking and his eyes were dashing all over the place. He was a wreck. About ten minutes go by and the whole class had finished their potions. Loki put in his last ingredient and Professor Snape looks relieved. He’s equally annoyed by Loki’s attitude.

“Wonderful, now, find a partner and have each other drink the potions. We will discuss the effects, history, and use after you embrace the effects.”

I don’t agree with Professor Snape's hands-on take in the classroom, especially since these are potions and anything can go wrong. I watched as the other students eagerly drank the potions and they seemed to react alright. They were giggling and happy. Looking over to Loki, he stared down at his desk, not asking anyone to drink his or bullying one of his friends into doing so.

“I can try yours if you want,” I offered.

Loki just grunted under his breath so I swapped our drinks. He took a sip of mine and sat up. His eyes woke up as if nothing had happened and he was his usual self. Loki looked at me and smiled, waiting for me to drink mine. Based on the name, the potion must be some kind of peace or calming drink which is probably why he perked up so quickly. Confidently, I took a drink of his potion.

I had never felt such pain in my stomach before. It felt as if someone took a knife and jabbed it in there, twisting it at a rapid speed. I fell over clutching my stomach. Loki quickly stood up in panic and stared at me before kneeling down to my side. The other students stared at me in shock, rushing to my side in fear. Professor Snape pushed past the kids and looked into my eyes before frantically turning to Loki.

“What did you do?”

“I- I don’t”

“You idiot children. Thinking with emotions.”

Snape ran around the room and quickly made up a potion we didn’t know. Rushing to my side again, he made me drink it. Slowly the pain in my stomach went away but my anger at Loki didn’t. With the help of the students, I stood up and turned to him.

“You fucking dickbag! I’m sorry you’re having a bad day but that does not give you the right to make my day bad either!” I screamed.

Everyone gasped at my sudden outburst and Professor Snape stood by. Loki’s eyes went wide and started tearing up. I quickly second guessed my words at his reaction. He looked sorry.

“Y/N that is no way to talk to a fellow classmate, no matter the wrong they did to you,” Professor Snape scolded.

“But he-”

“I know and he will get what he deserves. Both of you detention Thursday.”

“WHAT?!” Professor Snape shot me a look of anger which sent me back in my seat with my arms crossed. I did nothing but yell at Loki for being a jerk all day, but here I am in trouble. At least Loki got in trouble as well.

Loki sat back down in his seat and didn’t say a word to me for a couple of days, no matter how awkward it was during class. Now, I’m sitting in detention with a silent moping Loki. He hasn’t talked or even looked at me the whole time. It’s been twenty minutes since we sat down and Snape locked us in for the hour.

“Y/N, I-”

“Don’t even try,” you sigh.

“Can I at least explain myself?”

You look over to him. His eyes are full of that pity look again, the one he had when he made the potion wrong.

“Fine, you have a half hour.”

#loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki #loki laufeyson #loki hogwarts au #au!loki #loki x reader angst #loki mini series #lovingallforloki #anonrequest #loki fanfic #loki x reader au #loki x reader hogwarts au

71 notes · View notes

pocketfulofrogers · 4 years ago

Text

Planes, Trains, and Firetrucks

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Summary: What’s a polar vortex to a desperate sister trying to get home? With a little determination and the luck of a stranger, you might just be able to pull off a Christmas miracle.

Notes: So I got drunk with my aunt and uncle on Thanksgiving and watched the only Thanksgiving movie to both exist and be quoted in it’s entirety by my whole family. I woke up with a google note that said ‘Planes, Trains, and Automobiles but make it a love story.’ Kinda wished I had payed more attention to the movie now.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to reign in your frustration. You had been all over this airport for the last six hours desperately searching for any way to get home. So far, you had only been strung along.

“Is there anything to Chicago at all? I’m just trying to be back for even a portion of Christmas. Seriously, at this point I’d saddle up a horse.”

The woman scrunches her nose as she scrolls through her computer, a sense of defeat looming over you until she smiles quickly. “I found a 5am to Detroit that connects…” She trails off and begins to frown again. “Just canceled.”

“Seriously?!” The word explodes from your mouth unwarranted and much louder than intended and your hand flies to your mouth in embarrassment.

Before you can begin to apologize profusely, you hear the man behind you mumble under his breath. “Probably because of the giant winter storm and white out conditions covering the entire North East.”

You whip your head behind to glare at him, but he’s too focused on his phone to even notice that you had overhead him. Defeated, you turn back around and quietly apologize before grabbing your phone and sulking away, the guy behind you chuckling slightly.

Mom: Your sister just got here, she’s so excited to see you!

Barely managing to suppress your groan, you lean against a nearby pillar to type a response that hopefully won’t break anyone’s hearts.

The man pockets his phone and approaches the counter. “Hi, can I get a hotel voucher?”

“We’re prioritizing vouchers for flying families and couples first.” She smiles.

“Really?” He groans, loud enough to grab your attention and hears your chuckle from what he assumes you think is karmic justice. But when he locks eyes with you, he gets an idea. “That is so kind of you guys!” He exclaims with a smile. “My wife will love that.”

In the middle of trying to explain to your mom that you couldn’t have left any early, chuckles steps up in front of you with a grin, holding up a pamphlet and you narrow your eyes. “Be my wife for a night, cow girl?”

You roll your eyes and walk away from his laughter and fake apologies, not stopping until he calls your name. “This?” You gesture between the two of you. “This is creepy.”

He holds up his hands before sliding the voucher in his dark jean jacket pocket. “They wouldn’t give me the voucher unless I put another name down so I just said you were my wife.” He shrugs his shoulder as if he can’t see the problem. “Now I can’t check in unless you’re there.”

You grab your bag and start walking again. “Not my problem.”

To your dismay, he keeps up with you. “We’ve been running around this place all day, so you have got to be at least a little tired.” You really were. “I let you use my charger.” He did do that, but it doesn’t seem to him that his small act of airport kindness has swayed you. “How about we get some sleep and then I promise I will help get you to Chicago?”

This causes you to pause again and look him up and down, almost hating yourself for even considering it. Those piercing blue eyes didn’t seem to hold any malice, nor did his small smile. He was charming, that much was obvious, but so was Ted Bundy.

You cock a hip to the side. “You could be a serial killer.”

The smirk he flashes makes you a little weak. “So could you.”

“Fine, but we’re stopping for pepper spray.”

Each time Kelly closes his eyes and feels his exhaustion begin to pull him under, he hears you curse under your breath. You had been obsessively scouring the internet looking for a hail mary, but each time you hit a wall.

He had given up somewhere between the last car dealership left in a 100-mile radius to endure your guilt trip and the proposition of hitch hiking. Honestly, he was more concerned than surprised when you seemed disappointed at him shooting down the idea.

Despite this budding friendship, you had offered no details of yourself, even when asked. You made another serial killer joke when he asked you why it was so important you get home, but he didn’t miss how guarded you became.

The next time you groan is when he also gives up the idea of any form of rest. Kelly sits up quick enough to see you throw yourself back into the creaky swivel chair.

“Is there a battery pack on you or something?” His voice is gravely, thick with exhaustion and just a hint of frustration.

You wince. “I know, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe that there’s not a single taxi or rental car available.”

“You could just buy a car.” He suggests it as an outlandish joke, but then your eyes light up.

“You’re a genius!”

Standing out in the middle of an alleyway, snow coating your hair, you can’t say your not a little nervous. Kelly is stood beside you despite very loudly voicing his opinion on how this was a terrible idea. Actually, that it was maybe the worst idea you’ve ever had.

“If anyone is going to be a serial killer, it’s going to be this guy.” He mumbles another remark, shifting his eyes to check your surroundings again.

You shoot a glare at him, but have to admit he’s probably right.

There wasn’t much in your bank account to spare, especially when you consider the price of a decent car. Craigslist offered one result in your price range within reasonable walking distance and you didn’t really stop to think it out.

Now you were in a barely lit backstreet leaking a smell you’d rather not name.

“You didn’t have to come.” You state, again.

He scoffs. “With your lack of self-preservation and this piece of shit that won’t make it out of the state? I won’t be responsible for you ending up on a milk carton.”

You want to comment that that’s not a thing anymore, but he had stuck by you for the last few hours and that’s more than you can usually expect from a stranger. “Aw, you care.” You reply instead.

It smells, terribly, but if you roll the windows down enough, you can hardly even notice. Wearing enough layers to not fell the cold is another story. You had expected Kelly to bail on you, insisting you wouldn’t blame him for running back to the warm comfort of clean sheets that weren’t his own, but again he shook his head.

He slept for the first six hours, grateful that you seemed to be a decent driver, but you tossed and turned in the back for about four before you climb back up front and ask to take over. There was only a little bit of gloating each time you passed through a city and grinned an ‘I told you so’ at him.

He doesn’t tell you, but he finds your giddiness contagious.

You don’t notice, but he keeps watching you whenever you’re not paying attention- intrigued by the woman who is actively going to hell and back just to get home. Matt told him he was insane, but there was something about you that he just couldn’t let go of.

He had watched you give up one of the only plane tickets left to a younger woman. Feeling touched as she cried in your arms. When you bought lunch for an unaccompanied minor and let her use up the entire battery life of your phone to watch a few movies, he knew he had to at least talk to you.

The only opener he had was a charger and it seemed to have been enough to get your trust.

“You know,” He starts, pulling his jacket tighter around him, hoping the rising sun would bring some form of warmth soon. He wasn’t hopeful. “I think I’ve earned a few questions.”

You glance at him and raise a brow. “Fine.”

“Are you always like this?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Your surprise makes you laugh.

“Prickly.” He clarifies.

“I’m not prickly, I’m stressed.” You defend yourself. “How are you not? Aren’t you trying to get home too, to see your family?”

He shrugs. “It’s out of my control, and the only family I have are people I get to see pretty regularly.” He smiles at you. “Guess I’m pretty lucky.”

“Well, it seems I’m definitely not.”

As if on cue, there’s a loud pop from the front of the car and it begins to sputter and smoke. Kelly is quick to calm you down and ease you into pulling off the road in the most soothing voice you think you may have ever heard.

Sitting on the side of the road, you only pick up your head from your knees when you hear a loud sigh and the hood slam shut. Kelly wipes the dark grease on his pants and gives you a solemn look.

“It’s toast.”

You let your head fall back onto your knees, not paying much attention to the encouraging words he tries to use to raise your spirits or the almost comforting hand on your shoulder, not even when they both disappear.

It isn’t until he’s grabbing the bags from the worst impulse buy of your life that you decide to check back in. “What are you doing?”

He points back to a semi-truck stopped not far behind with a smirk. “I told you I’m lucky.”

Your elbow bumps the trucker again and you pull you arms in closer to your body, try to scoot further away while being mindful of Kelly pressed close to you on your other side. Why you agreed to sit in the middle, you’ll only understand once you figured out why you agreed to this in the first place.

The man seemed nice enough, but it was two hours to the next city and you hadn’t slept in 36 hours.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do when we get there. Maybe find some wifi and look for our next ride?”

Kelly purses his lips. “How about we take an hour?”

“What are we supposed to in Dyersville on Christmas day?”

There’s a sparkle in his eyes when he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright. This was a good idea.” You mumble around a mouthful of the burger you were trying to not inhale.

Somehow, Kelly had managed to convince a food truck to kick out one more order before packing up to get home. The smell hit you just as your hunger did and it didn’t take long for you to start stuffing your face.

He picks up his drink beside him on the bench and nods. “We needed this.”

“So bad.” You gush. You look around and finally feel like you can breathe again. “Maybe my luck’s turning. It’s a beautiful day, we’re so close, and this just might be the best burger I’ve ever had.”

He starts to laugh, but stops suddenly when he looks past your head. Before he can even react, the man he had been eying grabs your purse and takes off, Kelly quick on his heels. You yell after him, almost taking off too, but then his feet catch a patch of ice.

He goes down, hard and you rush to his side.

“Kelly? Kelly are you okay?” He’s touched by your concern, but he doesn’t have the breath in his lungs to convey it.

“Fine.” He grunts out.

“You folks alright?” A man with peppered hair and a thick grey mustache approaches behind you in a white button up. “We were just fixing our lights outside when we saw what happened. We’ve got two EMTs grabbing their bags if you’ll just stay where you are, son.”

Kelly waves him off, calling him chief, and tries to sit up. “Guy got her bag.”

You shush him and quickly help him up. “There’s nothing in there that can’t be replaced.” You assure him.

“Holy shit, is that Kelly Severide?” A woman calls out from across the street before jogging over. “Can’t wait to let the boys know that the great Lieutenant got played by a kid.”

Kelly chuckles at your confusion as he wipes his dirt covered hands on his jeans. “Gomez, nice to see you again.”

“You know each other?” You ask.

Gomez nods. “Lieutenant Severide here held a rope rescue training, whipped us all into shape. What brings you back here?”

Kelly sighs, adding a voice to the very rough time the last 20 hours had been. “Got snowed in just outside of Seattle. This one,” He points over to you and raises a brow. “Just had to get home and dragged me on and insane trip.”

Your jaw drops. “Dragged? You definitely refused to leave.”

“Only because I whole heartedly believed you’d get yourself killed.” He winks at you and you can’t suppress your smile.

The chief contemplates for a moment before offering up an old battalion car to get you through the final stretch. Kelly looks to you, smile beaming and makes another comment about his impeccable luck.

“So, you’re a firefighter.” You begin when the silence becomes a little too thick. “Is that why you were in Washington?”

Kelly nods. “Small city fire departments don’t have the resources we do. I try to go to a few a year to teach them how to use the stuff they have for difficult rescues.”

“Wow…” You trail off.

“You can’t ask me that question and not answer it for yourself.”

Rolling your eyes, you have to agree. “I was there for an interview. Some doctors there created a revolutionary treatment, and I was able to witness one of the surgeries.”

“Must be important for you to give up your Christmas Eve.”

You shrug. “My sister got really sick a few years ago. She’s okay now, but we weren’t able to see her for a really long time. Doctors saved her life and this could save someone else’s. It’s important information.”

“That’s why you wanted to get back?”

The moment becomes a little too heavy, but you manage a sad smile before you feel compelled to look out the window. “It’s her first Christmas since, it’ll be the first time I’ve seen her.”

He grabs your hand and your attention after a moment of silence and his stare is intense. “We’ll be there soon.” He assures you.

12 hours into shift and Matt Casey is as bored as he’s ever been on a Christmas. No calls, no Christmas spirit, and most importantly Christmas dinner was a bust. So, when Severide open his office door, covered in dirt and oil and grime, he was intrigued at least.

“You look like hell.”

Kelly rolls his eyes. “I need to borrow your truck to take Y/N home.”

Casey’s eyes widen. “She’s here?”

Kelly isn’t sure why he seems so excited until he hears him grab almost the entire firehouse to lead them to the floor. To you. Despite his protests, Gabby is positively thrilled. You however, surprisingly, are not overwhelmed by all the greetings and hugs. The environment is so warm and welcoming that you can’t help but slide right into conversations.

“She is gorgeous.” Gabby tries to keep it to a whisper. “Your texts do not do her justice.”

Kelly nods, well aware that just a few words typed while you were focused on the road could never be enough to describe how incredible he believed you to be.

“This isn’t it, right? You’ve got to see her again.” Joe butts his head between Kelly and Gabby. “We already like her.”

The drive to your house is quiet, somber. Not a single sound besides tires crunching through packed snow. There’re so many questions you have unanswered based solely on the fact that you don’t know how to ask them. Staring out into the night sky to watch the snow fall is no longer enough to comfort you.

It isn’t until he pulls up and puts the truck in park that you start to feel the pit in your stomach become overwhelming. You’re worried you’ll never see him again. Worried that the past day will be the final one and that thought is terrifying.

“Stay.” You blurt out.

He’s caught off guard by your request, but still smiles. “My family is back at the station and this is too important for you to be worrying about your parents meeting me.”

Your nod acknowledges that he’s right, but your eyes convey your sadness. “Merry Christmas, Kelly.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“I cannot believe you just let her go!” Matt walks in on Gabby yelling. “You liked that girl, she invited you in, and you left?!” She’s pacing back and forth in front of a freshly showered Kelly. He looks like a puppy in trouble and Matt’s smart enough to know not to butt in.

“That was not a first impression I wanted to make.” He tries to defend himself.

Gabby turns to Matt, exasperated, and he raises his hands.

As if someone were listening to his silent prayers, Capp comes in to tell Kelly that he had a visitor on the floor. His heart began to race, filling with hope that maybe, just maybe…

He rounds the corner and there you are, dressed up with a delicate smile. For a moment he’s breathless, the only thing he wanted to see. He wants to open with something witty, but you beat him to it when you hand him a tupperware container, stepping close enough that he can smell the light layer of perfume you’re wearing.

“This is to thank you for letting me drag you and your luck all over the northern states.”

He laughs. “I believe it was me that refused to leave.”

“And I probably would’ve made the national news for being missing if you hadn’t.” Your smirk makes his heart skip a beat. “You know milk cartons aren’t a thing anymore, right?”

He laughs. “Well, how am I supposed to thank you for pretending to be my wife?” You laugh until you realize he’s being serious. “How about dinner tomorrow night?”

“I would love that.”

When he leans down slowly and presses his lips to yours, you have to laugh at the cheers that erupt from the background.

#kelly severide x reader #Kelly Severide #Chicago Fire #chicago fire imagine #kelly severide imagine #kelly serveride fanfiction #matt casey #gabby dawson #christmas

202 notes · View notes

boredoverlord · 3 years ago

Text

Bucky X Reader - Hold the Line

I came in here to show you a good time, so here's my personal work and my very first fanfiction of all time. And because I'm a thirsty bitch, of course it's smut.

Summary : As a young and talented psychologist specializing in difficult people in prison, you believed in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with the SHIELD. Turned out you were tricked to work for HYDRA.

For three years they made you do horrors in the name of an ideology you despised, but you may have found the occasion to finally make a change for the good, when they introduced you to your new patient.

The Winter Soldier.

Rating : Explicit, please kids, look away ( of course you won't because you're cute little rebels, but please do it)

Word count : 6.4k (chapter 1)

TW: Light BDSM (for now) Because Bucky is a massive Sub and it seems nobody agrees with me, so I have to do the lord's work here.

Foul language, mention of violence and murder, Masturbation, male orgasm and a tiiiny bit of choking. I started lightly

Please consider reading this on Archive of our own or read it below the cut. Lemme know what you think !

Chapter 1: A Story of Almost Everything

You never were the type to brag. But one thing you know is : you’re damn good at your job. Years and years of psychology studies, you barely got to parties, you hardly made any friends, and your sleeping schedule is still a nightmare. Those were sacrifices you did for one sole purpose : helping others. To be the last resort for people who have lost everything. You always firmly believed that you could make a change in the world, even the slightest, even for just one person. That would have been enough to make your lifetime worthy. What's more noble than just a genuine try to make it better, after all ? So you wasted your youth on studies, without a damn blink. And never one ounce of regret. You did it because it felt right. You’re not very brave, but you decided to face your fear a couple of times. You even were an intern in a high security prison, talking to broken men and women who hated your guts. Trying to lead them to another path of life. You heard stories that could break any mind. Only time could tell if you actually helped them. But that’s part of the job. Hope. And hard work.

That’s why when you started to have a growing reputation, at 26 after five years of studies and several years working in prison and rehabilitation, you were ecstatic when S.H.I.E.L.D contacted you. You quit everything, starting with your homeland in Europe, to fly to Washington DC, to visit the headquarters. The new building, the thrill of novelty, the clean rooms, the medical wing, and Alexander Pierce himself coming to shake your hand and telling you personally the wonders they have in mind for the psychology field. You could prepare people to save the world, you could have all the resources to make research, and fix minds that were supposed to be beyond repair. It was supposed to be just a quick trip, but the visit wasn’t even done when you looked at your guide with enthusiasm : you weren’t going home. Just cancel the fly. You’re taking the job immediately. It was three years ago.

Enough to understand how fucked you are.

You didn’t save anyone, you didn’t even work to make the world a better place. Oh but you did work to make a change. A change for HYDRA. They tortured you to make you swallow their ideology, but even if your body surrendered, your mind didn’t, even if it was still a perpetual work on yourself. You never believed in this masquerade, but you know it doesn’t matter. Because HYDRA knows how good you are at your job, and you’re a precious asset. So precious that they pushed all your buttons to make you obey. You tried to act and escape. Their last resort is the Damocles sword they put over your family’s head. Next act of rebellion, heads will roll. And it won’t be yours : no, no. HYDRA won’t give you this relief. It will be your loved ones. So you’re doing what you have to do. It’s the most cowardly choice, you know it. And you’re ashamed. But you’re too terrorised to make it otherwise. So you’re here to twist people's minds to swallow whatever Hydra wants. You make them understand the importance of the organization, when they can’t take it anymore, you make them understand that not only they can, but they must . You saw vulnerable people giving their life to this awful cause, and you are the person to make them understand it was the right thing to do. They gave you kind people with dreams, morals and passion, and you turn this into anger, hate and war, worshipping a crazy doctrine that spoils everything you believed and fought for. You have blood on your hands. You’re THAT good at your job.

So when they called you for a highly secret mission, you weren’t exactly surprised. Just disgusted by them, and mostly yourself. In the guts of what was called the Ideal Federal Saving Bank, you’re obediently following the chef himself : Alexander Pierce, to your next place of action. “I believe you have read your mission’s order, Y/N ?” “Yes Sir.” You said. “It did mention I will have the whole file today, though. I need to take a look at my patient so I can work in proper condition.” “Whatever you call it.” He said, opening the door of the clandestine laboratory in the now abandoned bank. If not for the machinery, we could still believe that those art deco walls filled with safes would still contain treasures of a lifetime for some people. Now there is nothing of value in here, not even the very skin of every PoS present. And you were including yourself. Making your way in the middle of the heavy set up, you slowly reach the pod in the middle, chewing secretly the interior of your cheeks. You know what’s inside, and it makes you want to puke. Mr Pierce continued “Doctor, as your mission was presented to you, your one on only assignment will be the physical and mostly the psychological perfect condition of the Winter Soldier, for the entire length of this mission on american soil.” Basically, be sure his brain is a fucking slushy. You reluctantly nodded and drew closer. “What’s his condition ?” At the top of your height, barely 5’3, you tiptoed to actually look at him by the window of the cryostasis chamber, since you never got this close of a look, not without the file and basically crumbs of info that were thrown at your face. They expected you to keep a dog on a leash, not making actual work on him, and it shows. White man, late 20s to early 30s, approx 5”7, long dark messy hair, not shaved, geez, it seemed like the poor guy was barely cleaned up before being pushed here. Good physical condition, breathing was steady. You could see the steam of his breath on the glass. He may be clinically asleep, but she highly doubted he would be in his best shape. He looked uncomfortable, and tired. It wasn’t a restorative sleep. It was a prison. You couldn’t help but notice his prosthetic arm, even if that was the only thing you knew about him. It’s a fascinating work of science, that’s for sure. And even if transhumanism and biomechanical wasn’t your forte, you wanted to have a closer look, to satisfy your curiosity. One of the scientists watching his screen responded : “He’s gently defrozing, should be half conscious in 5 minutes. You may want to take a step down.” You ignore that, and lean your hand to your superior. “May I finally have what I have been asking for ?” With the most irritating smile, he gave you the Winter Soldier’s File and you quickly opened it to have a first look at all the fuss. Basic physical information, previous missions report, date of entering and ending of cryostasis, bare minimal medical record, notes by her predecessor, fucking trigger words to make him kneel like a 12 years old in front of any boysband... nothing about his previous life, his antics, his name, actual disorders, no name, nor adresses… You glaced a bit at Pierce and threw a polite smile. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows you know. You’re extremely good with very violent patients. You have endured rapists and murderers spiting in your face and swearing to bite your head off and fucking your skull. You were traumatized and you cried yourself to sleep, but the following day you did your job again. You’re just here to handle the worst of the worst. And you’re going to do it.

Or he’s going to break your neck and fuck your skull. You’re fine with that.

“Thank you it’s going to be very helpful.” As helpful as a band-aid on a wooden leg. “What’s this device ?” You point your chin to another machine not far away from it. One of the two men finishing installing it, raised his head to look at you. “A memory suppressing machine. Usually he doesn’t need it as much as he used to, but it’s mainly for safety. He must be prepared.” “He’s in a state where he willingly takes it. So don’t hesitate if he’s starting to be annoying, or excited. That can happen. But that mean you would probably have to work more with him to make him fully ready for his mission,” “Understood, thank you for clarification gentlemen.” You smiled and they smiled back. You’re a woman, so you’re used to it. Basically this shit was supposed to hack his brain, and it must be painful. “I would strongly recommend not using it at such a time. From what I quickly read he needs stability and time. Wiping everything out will more likely create more confusion.” You took a look at the file again and took it upon yourself to not have your eyes double in size and screaming at this bunch of idiots. “... and it does seem he’s using it a lot.”

“We want the asset to be as focused as possible.”

“I understand that, but that's a temporary solution at best. He’s got a brain, not a harddrive. We still don’t know how it can store information, and if it can…” “The last time we used him was five years ago…” Started Pierce, with diplomaty, but also with a tone that wasn’t allowing any more debate on the matter. “And this mission is an absolute priority. The asset is strictly under cryostasis procedure as soon as he’s not needed anymore. The machine will be used if needed.” “I understand your point.” You absolute psychopath. “Then my request is simply to be here if it happens, and to be able to control the shocks. Also, I insist that he must be in perfect condition when you launch the procedure, I’ll personally make it happen and give you a green light.” “Thank you for your hard work.” He said, raising his hand, that you promptly and politely shook. You could feel the angry grasp. “I know you’re the perfect woman for this hard job. Your work is an inspiration for us all.” You wish you could end your life right here right now, instead of being told such atrocities. But you think about your mom and dad. At this time of year they start to prepare the pool for the summer, for the future neighborhood barbecues where they will brag to everyone about their incredible psychiatrist daughter who is doing secret stuff over sea to help save the world. You have to be strong. At least for them. At least for now.

“Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.” You responded, while your tongue feels like sandpaper.

“Ok he’s starting to wake up…” Someone warns, as Pierce leaves the room, unbothered. The pod opens before your eyes, as the asset -you hate this term- is being roughly handled and carried away by two dudes to his seat. The one dangerously close to the memory suppressing machine. You squatted in front of him, the time for him to blink several times and look around him. Confused, but it’s not exactly his first rodeo either. His eyes are quickly focused on the first thing in front of him : you. He looked like he was trying to remember who you are, but quickly realized he didn’t know you. Two blue spears digging right into your soul. That’s making you a bit uncomfortable. The same weird feeling of unease you have when a cat is watching you taking a shower. “Hi.” You started, in english, even if he could be from italy you had no freaking clue. You guessed that he was probably slavic. But the file says he’s speaking more than ten languages. And it wasn’t specified when and how the hell did he learn that. “Can you hear me?” He took a few more seconds to look at you, probably the time to finish reading every embarrassing moment of your life, right into your eyes, like your drunk 18th birthday when you finished in your panties swimming in a city fountain, but he nodded eventually. You actually know this look. But it’s the first time you have a super soldier in front of you so it’s of a rare intensity. He’s dissecting you. Gathering information. His eyes moved slightly down : a recent scar on your neck. Right : an ex piercing on the top of your ear, now unusable. Down left : he just realized you’re slightly unbalanced so he knows you have a hip issue. And down right : he’s looking at your hand, you don’t really know what he saw here, maybe calculating how to break them ? You were literally a foot in a viper’s nest. Were you terrified ? Absolutely. Will that forbid you to do your job ? Nope. “Can you follow the light ?” You asked, moving slowly your phone’s lamp from left to right in front of his eyes. He did it without questioning. “Ok good.” You tried a smile, not really knowing why. If he was at least a tenth as clever as the file said he was, he perfectly know that you’re here to fuck him up. But you couldn’t help it. Poor dude. He was visibly more or less your age. He could have been a prince, or thief, a womanizer, or a priest, whatever, HYDRA took everything from him. From his free will, of his right to grow old, to his sleep. “Can you tell me your name ?” He frowned, perplexed. “Winter Soldier.” Shitty answer but at least he was fully aware, and his tongue was working properly. “Nice to meet you, I’m doctor Y/N. We’re here to work together in preparation of your next assignment. Do you understand ?” He nodded, unimpressed. “Good, can you get up ?” He did, so you did it too. And he realized that you were… very short. His eyes literally went up and slooowly down. That was a bit mean, actually. You carefully took a glance behind you, and your eyeroll could probably trigger an earthquake. “Can you all nice gentlemen let down a bit of their weapon ?” You said at the 6 dudes with rifles literally fixed on him, ready to shoot at the wrong twitch of muscle. No wonder he wasn’t talkative. “You won’t say that when he will break your neck with two fingers, ‘mam.”

“He’s pretty stable for now. Plus he’s not fully awake, let’s give him time before threatening him, shall we ?”

Nobody moved for ten seconds before one of them complied, since you didn’t move. The rest of the bunch reluctantly followed . You looked at your patient, hoping that that would have made him a bit more relaxed. Nope, he didn’t give a shit. He wasn't even looking at them. He was looking at you. You’re the mystery of this room to him. But you didn’t need extra vision to understand that Docs treated him like a guinea pig, so he was very understandably extra careful with you. Standing on his feet, all his muscles ready for action, that’s the exact moment you realized how close you two were. Indeed, if he decided to, your jaw would fly across the room in a single move. You never had such a display of sheer raw strength, and you could feel the heat of his body radiate.

“He needs a shower, and clothings.” You said, having a look at his 5 years old combat suit still reeking the smell of his sweat. It was intoxicating. They didn’t even allow him to clean himself. Poor dude was frozen in his own filth for the last five years. And you didn’t know why you took an even deeper breath. “And I’m talking about comfy workout clothes, no combat suit. Please escort him and handle him with care, before bringing him to my office.” You actually decided to be sure he wouldn’t be mistreated, by waiting outside the man’s bathrooms. You weren’t certain of how he could react, and you didn’t trust anyone here. If one of them decided to do a piss contest with your patient, it could end badly. So you put your hands in your pockets, looking at the two armed men waiting for the most dangerous assassin in the world to finish scrubbing himself with soap. The atmosphere was heavy and the silence was loud in itself. Even the sound of the shower was stressful and menacing.

When the Soldier was escorted to your improvised office into the archive, directly linked to a storage room that will be your bedroom for the next weeks, you let him take a seat and promptly blocked the access to the room of the two escort members. “Thank you sirs, that will be all. Please wait here.” They look at you like you just told them you were dating their daughters. “Sorry Miss, but we can’t…” “Sorry Doctor , and I can’t work properly with weapons in my office.” You raised your hand, showing your device on your wrist. Something that would not only call for aid by a simple pressure, but could stun an opponent. Neither them nor you were stupid : it wouldn’t stop The Winter Soldier, maybe he would blink a second at most. But you really wanted to be alone with him. Was he dangerous ? Yes. Were you absolutely certain that you would leave this room alive if you closed this door to their face ? No. But it’s been three years since your priority wasn’t your survival anymore. So you forced a smile and slapped the door. They needed you more than you needed them, so they will obey.

“Douchebags.” You muttered to yourself while coming back to your desk. Your patient didn’t even move a muscle at your little argument. He wasn’t totally inexpressive actually, mostly terribly broody. His hair was still wet from the shower he took, wearing cargo pants, heavy boots and hoodies, generic clothes by HYDRA. You got those too, since you’re not allowed to carry anything personal for mission to mission. You had a tablet for books, music and movies, but that was it. You haven’t opened your shelves yet, but you know it’s full of ugly clothes and generic black panties of doom.

You took a large inspiration, sat on your desk in front of him, and started : “Ok ‘Winter Soldier’... how are you doing ?” He didn’t even flinch. He was staring into your soul with his eyes lost into dark circles. Depriving someone of proper sleep is a basic rule for brainwash. “You enjoyed the shower ?” Nothing. You waited for a bit to see if he would finally respond. Ten seconds. Twenty. fourty. a minute. When he gathered that you were actually looking for an answer, visibly a first one for him, he finally gave you the courtesy of one. “Yes.” “Perfect.” You didn’t hide your slight smile and tiled your head. “I’ll be sure you’re in your best condition for your next mission. If something’s on your mind, I need to know about it. Nothing will get out of this room. Both of our priorities are your goal, and your condition is the key to success. Which makes you , my high top priority. Do you understand me ?” “Yes.”

“Ok so let’s get going.” You took another file, and took a picture out, ready to handle it to him. “Is the name : Nicholas Fury, ringing some bells to you?” “Yes.” He took it inside his titanium fingers and finally moved his piercing blue eyes away from you to look at the picture. “In two weeks, you’ll be in Washington DC. An entire squad will be deployed to assassinate him. Fury is the leader of the S.H.I.E.L.D, not a mere target. He will break free and fight back. That will be when you’ll show up.” He wasn’t looking at the picture anymore. One thing for sure : at least he was paying attention to you, and what you were saying. And that made you actually kind of proud of yourself. “That was part one. I’ll personally supervise your training with the VR machine and your physical health and condition. I really need you to communicate with me all the time about anything that could be in your mind. The more focused you are, the more Hydra’s plan will succeed.” And what’s that plan ? You have not a single clue. You were a cog in the machine, disposable. Not much more than him. “Do you understand ?” “I understand.” Oh shit, two words this time!

“Good.” You smiled. He didn’t. You move your hands closer to him, to take a grip on the picture. He opened his prosthetic hand, leaving you to take it back. Nothing in his gesture seems dangerous. Just normal, somehow cordial. “I must ask : are you in any pain right now ?” His eyes significantly get from right to left. He must probably wonder why you are asking him that. Did nobody ever ask him such basic questions like : ‘are you in pain?’ This man's sole purpose was to fight, that made no damn sense for you.

“Sir ?” You insisted for an answer, even if the ‘sir’ sounded absolutely ridiculous to your ears. You didn’t know his name, and you don’t feel comfortable calling him “Winter Soldier” , “Soldier”, “Sir De Winter”, “Hey you,he soviet assassin” so it will be “Sir” for now. “Sir are you in pain right now ?” “I’m not in pain.” A complete sentence, that’s progress. You breathed a bit better “Ok good.” You got up from your desk, which was honestly barely taller that him remaining on his chair. He didn’t let go of your eyes and you decided to make a bold move. For now, he was always being responsive so you slowly moved your hands toward him. To his prosthetic hand. “May I take a look, please ?” You glanced at each other, nobody made the first move. In complete silence, if it wasn’t for both of your breaths. You’re almost sure that it has been at least 5 minutes since you decided to speak again. Slowly, and gently, with no signs of confrontation in your body language or speech. “I will not do it until you comply. And you can refuse the contact.” He didn’t answer right away but he finally nodded.

Slowly, you took his hand into yours, lifting it from his thigh where it was resting. At the beginning it was just taking a look. But he wasn’t making any moves, so you decided to take your observation a little further. You used your other hands to start to move each finger separately, taking a step closer to him. Finally, you made one of your hands slowly sliding into the hoodie, to feel the muscles, the nerves, how it feels like a real arm. It was cold, but you felt it shudder to your touch. That was the line you decided to not take it further.

“Thank you, Soldier.” You said with a smile, taking away your hands from him. You moved behind your desk, opening your notepad to take a bunch of notes, breaking the contact with him. Just a second. But when you raised your eyes again, The Winter Soldier wasn’t in sight.

You shuddered and didn’t make a single move. If it wasn’t for your fingers grasping your desk. You did your best to have a steady respiration and not start to panic. Your throat dried up immediately. You took a deep breath and say : “Please, get back to your seat.” You slowly moved your head to look right back at him. He was standing. His eyes were black, taking loud deep breaths, fixing your behind your shoulder. Tall. Dangerous. You were terrorised. And he could smell it. He didn’t move so you stood up as well, and slowly faced him. You try to remain in total control of your body and not start to fidget. You could scream for help, but for whatever reason, you still had the feeling you could handle the situation. Trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t the first time a patient was disobedient. The only difference was that this one could crush your skull in a bat of an eye,

“Get back.” You said once again, bearing his piercing eyes, but he didn’t budge. So you took out your hand and put it on his chest. You felt like an ant against a mountain, but you pushed him a bit. “We will go nowhere this way.” You resumed trying to get a step closer, even if it will be creating a proximity that could be even more lethal to you. “So please, get back to…”

Something happened. It was obvious, and clear as day : you felt the bulge between his legs. Right above your navel. Hardening even more now that he could feel your body. You decided immediately to repress the shameful feeling of your very inside warming up and tickling you. “Winter Soldier.” You growled, angry but trying your best to remain as professional as you could. Of course, of fucking course. This guy was gorged on serum and hormones, quick, violent actions, and adrenaline. Pumping in his veins, burning 24/7. His body was on the edge all the time, and he just awoke from a dreamless slumber. He was a human, whatever all these idiots were thinking, not a freakin’ cyborg. When was the last time he saw a woman that he didn’t smash the head on a wall ? You even suspected that Pierce was counting on it. Nonetheless, you were alone in an office, literally glued with the world's most dangerous assassin, who was having a massive hard-on. Throbbing against you. You had your share of very awkward situations in your short life time. But nothing, nothing prepared you for this. And you had even less of an idea of what to do because he was doing nothing . He was feeling uncomfortable, that you could say, but he wasn’t really doing any moves to attack you, or even take you. He was standing here, with heavy breathing, his eyes still piercing you. And you slowly slided your gaze to his lips, finding the vision of his hard laboured breath strangely mesmerizing.

Short of ideas, your reflexes took the best (or the worst) of you, and without you realizing it, your hand was around his neck. Your palm pressured on his glottis, and you clearly felt him swallow. As clearly as you felt him becoming even harder. Your breath was starting to shake, as you felt a not-so subtle chill coursing your spin. You drew his face and your face closer, as you finally moved forward, forcing him to move as well. Forcing was a strong word : the last time you hit a punching bag, you hurt yourself and sobbed for an hour. But for whatever reason, he did whatever you wanted. As if he was testing your resolve to make him obey. But there was nothing on his file about this behaviour. He tried to attack, kill and escape. Nothing about testing the limits of anyone.

“You. Will. Sit. Down!” you spat, through your teeth, forcing even more your grip around his neck, as your other hand was reaching for his hair. You pulled it, not too harshly, but you could definitely smell the musk, and the wetness of what stayed of his shower.

You did it. He was sitting down again. And your bodies departed for one another. For once he tried to escape your gaze, which was a strangely human reaction. You both managed to get your breath back, before you decided to call the guard to adjourn your observation.

As soon as the door closed behind them, you felt your legs giving up and you sat on the ground, back against your desk, a small wimp leaving your throat. You felt your eyes starting to wet, and your teeth rattled a bit so you tried to cuddle yourself to try to retake control on your body. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably as his intoxicating smell was still all around you. It was by far one of the most terrifying experiences you ever felt, and it was all clouded by the phantom feeling of his body against yours. You could still feel his gaze, his heat, his… well, his cock against your belly. You were still chilling, trying to repress whatever you were feeling at this instant. Because it wasn’t right, for you. Nor him. Everyone in this godforsaken organisation was treating him like a dog, just here to attack and do tricks, but you swore to yourself not to do the same. You will succeed at your mission, but you’ll do it from the crumbs of humanity and morality that HYDRA left you. You will do anything possible that the mission will be complete, the most painless possible for this broken man you just saw. Wait a second.

Painless .

You jumped on your feet, ignoring the numbness of your legs caused by the shock, and you ran at the door, screaming at the three men at the end of the corridor. “HEY !” The guards startled a bit and looked at you “I changed my mind. Bring the Winter Soldier back to my office.” They briefly exchange what seems to be a bunch of insults about you, but they comply to bring the Soldier back. Him ? He seemed absolutely unbothered.

You closed the door behind the both of you, to the face of the guards yet again. He was standing here, showing his back as you slowly got back in front of him. Hands in your pocket, not really sure of what to do nor how to do it. He was looking at you, this same feeling of unease than before. And for reasons : a small glance confirmed that he was still rock hard. You didn’t make any move for a long time, until you finally put your hand on his chest. You felt his breathing becoming slightly quicker. “You’re not in pain.” You whispered, and he shook his head, negatively. “That was the wrong question. I’m sorry... “ Without you noticing, you had the palm of your hand on his cheek, scrubing lightly his stubble with your thumb as an apology. You breathed in, just couldn’t believe what you were about to say. “Do you need help ?” His expression didn’t change, but his eyes ? They became a bit brighter, you could even see a bit of relief when you saw him nod.

You swiftly move your other index on his pillowy lips as you still lower your voice. “They cannot hear us.” He nodded again as the only feeling of your finger as close to his mouth made him shiver with anticipation. He was literally dying of anything that could relieve him. And for what you understood, as your conversation continued, he trusted you with his body, to provide him with the sweet touch he has been totally deprived of. You slowly push away your index to gently slide your thumb between his lips, and he sighed with pleasure as he took it with an eagerness you would never have believed possible. The most deadly assassin in the world, the legendary Winter Soldier that everyone wishes he wasn’t real, was purring while sucking your finger. If you weren’t the shrink, you’ll be needing one immediately. You gently moved him to make him sit in his chair, he was way too tall for you to handle this with ease. “What about the showers?” You asked him, as you removed your thumb to make it gently slide on his lips, your other hand crawling across his chest to his pants. He swallowed before whispering. “I could but... “ his well built square jaws started to tense, with a visible revulsion. “... They can watch.” Disgusting. He couldn’t even close the damn door of the shower. “You’re safe here.” You said as your hand was finally reaching the bulge behind his Hydra cargo pants. You didn’t know what you expected but… it was way beyond that. He hissed a bit at the feeling of your hand as you started to touch it gently over the fabric.

Now he was panting, looking at you as you were a single oasis after years of thirst in the desert. “Please…” You heard, barely audible when he was starting to lose it. “I got you, but you have to promise me to be good.” “Anything. Please…”

And at your very surprise, you obliged him. Using your hand to plunge into his pants, while the other fast pressed into his mouth, muffing the immediate deep moan that escaped at the very second you touched his pulsing penis. He started panting even more, as he used his flesh arm to drive you onto him. His forehead against yours. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer and closer. Actually you let go of his -massive- erection a second to just drop out his pants, and his breach. You stopped a second, only to watch him begging you with his eyes, as you could feel his saliva at the palm of your hand while you muzzled him. It was it. You realized what kind of power you have over this man. He has been used and abused in every single way, but for once : someone’s finally doing what he wanted. You had his pleasure in your very hands, and for once in years, you could finally help someone. So you’re gonna do it, you’re going to make him feel good. Very good. “Good boy.” You muttered, without knowing where the hell that could come from, and you reached him again. Stroking your hands up and down his shaft, nourishing yourself over the vibration of his muffled moans against your hand. His eyes weren't leaving yours, if it wasn’t for when they seemed to roll to the sky. His vision periodically blackened by the waves of forbidden pleasure he was feeling over his body, who was barely him anymore. Your eyes were gorging on the vision of his handsome muscular man, surrendering himself to your touch, sweating, trembling and panting for you. You were saluted by an utterly satisfied noise the moment you decided to lean over his manhood to drip a large amount of your own saliva moist what was already on the edge of ruin. You rolled your thumb against his tip, massage his veins with just one finger… anything to make him feel something. Anything that wasn’t pure anger, hatred or apathy. You were inclined to believe the file saying that he was nothing but a perfectly built weapon for HYDRA to command. But now, when you tickled, teased and made him shiver, and you felt all his sincere gratitude, you were certain : There is a man in here. And he was finally feeling good .

But soon, it wasn’t enough anymore. Seeing his bare thighs, powerful, thicken by years of training and super soldier serum, tensed by all the nerves and muscles deliciously answering to your call, made your inside warmed up. Your core was aching, screaming for proximity and intimacy, and before you understood what happened, you sat astride on his left thigh. The soft flesh between your legs immediately responded with delight, making you shiver. Almost instantly, you felt his grip on your hip, of the cold metal digging into your flesh with despair. It was a super soldier, with the stamina of several dozen men, but it’s been so long, and you were touching him with perfection. You felt his head on your shoulder, and slowly you started licking his temple, tasting the very fruit of your hard work : his sweat.

Galvanized by his intoxicating smell, and the thrusting he started giving to your hand, you started to move like a snake, rocking against his skin, looking for some pressure despite the fabric of your pants, mercilessly acting like a barrier of your own pleasure. You could get it off, but it was a limit that you forbid yourself to cross. But it’s true, as you were working him, you couldn’t stop yourself to think of how this would feel. Sliding inside you. You were so very short and fragile, and compared to your hand, his phallus was gigantic. He could ruin you, split you in half, using his bare hands and make you do anything. But the only person in control here, were you. And only you. You never felt anything like this before. And it’s highly probable than neither did he. You tried to vanish the thought, but the more you could feel his thigh between yours, the more you became obsessed.

The more he was approaching, the more eager the soldier became. Both of his hands firmly gripped on your behind, almost certain that it will leave bruises, but you didn’t care at this very moment. His grunts against your hands became more and more intense, and you started to feel he was about to give in. In between your fingers, small drips of salivas were started to escape. You couldn’t give up your grip now, so you made it even more tight, drawing your lips closer to your hands, you whispered as your sore wrist fastened its path “I’m here for you. Give everything to me.”

His panting became incontrolable, his eyes rolled out, his head dropped back, before he finally reached his peak. You felt the deep vibration of his ultimate cry on your hand, as your other hand was dripping of hot seed. You slowly removed your other hand from his face, and could contemplate your masterpiece : the Soldier absolutely looked like a mess, with his red face, his eyes blinking furiously, covered with his own saliva. You left his leg, both your hands dripping of his bodily fluids. You used the one that was on his lips to pick his head and forced him to look at you. You ravished your vision of this man who absolutely surrendered to your good care, deeply satisfied with your attention. You cradled his face, and you took a large lick of his spit from his chin to his mouth. Where he leaned for a wet and warm kiss. You took a good taste of him, intoxicated by whatever pheromones he could diffuse around you.

You look at him another few seconds, before recluandly moving away, to the bathroom where you not only washed your hands, but came back with a wet towel. You first cleaned with infinite care his face, and then his genitals, making sure he wouldn’t have any kind of unpleasant sensation as he had a big day ahead of him. You were his doctor and caretaker, and he had a mission to prepare. He seemed to respond well to the cleaning, not really expressive, but he made no sudden move. You could see him sighing with ease, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek in your palm again, when you were caressing him with the wet towel. You could still hear a loud satisfying purr. If you didn’t specifically ask him to kill someone less that an hour ago, you would actually find this absolutely adorable.

You breathed in and out, making sure he was okay. “Are you feeling better ?...” He nodded, visibly relaxed, as he was closing his pants but not much more expressive than before. He stood up, in front of you, like nothing happened. “Yes.” But to your surprise he added a second later. “Thank you, doctor.” You smiled at him as you couldn’t keep yourself from making your knuckles caressing his cheek, and finally tracking the shape of his jaws. “Good boy.” You heard yourself say, wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.He didn’t react. All the shivers, purring, sighing, and moans disappeared as soon as his pants closed. It was for the best, and you quickly took your hand back, clearing your throat. You call the guards. The Winter Soldier was fully ready for his mission preparation, and you asked them to give him some time to recover from… his cryostatic, before you would start the procedure.

In the meantime, you need a shower. A long, hot, steamy, shower.

42 notes · View notes

alexiessan · 4 years ago

Text

The brother you never asked for - One Shot

AO3

@neakco asked: "I saw an ask for prompts so I would like to request a sibling Jasonette where Jason is in Paris trying to win a bet with Dick over who can find the best pastries, which is how he finds/meets Marinette. Everything else is open to the freedom of your imagination."

Here is Jasonette Siblings :)

@justafanwarrior @animegirlweeb

Why was Jason running in the streets of Paris at seven in the evening again?

Ah, right. To win a bet against Dick.

The two oldest adopted children of Bruce Wayne had agreed to accompany their father on a business trip to the French capital. Damian still had school to attend and Tim was to manage the company while the CEO was away.

He didn’t really need any of his children to accompany him, but who would say no to a trip to Paris?

Bruce had a lot of meetings planned for the two weeks trip, and it took only two days for the two men to get bored. Paris wasn’t new for them and they’ve already seen all the touristic spots.

And so, they were just watching some movie in Richard’s hotel room when he had a craving for pastries.

“Let’s go to Ladurée! They have awesome macarons!” the oldest exclaimed, his mouth already watering at the thought of chocolate macaron.

Jason frowned. “Eh, really? It’s overpriced and overrated there.”

“But they are the best I’ve ever had.”

“That’s because you didn’t try to find the very best. It’s France, there are bakeries in almost every street. There must be one that makes better pastries than Ladurée.”

La maison Ladurée was a famous bakery in Paris, known for its macarons. Every tourist always ended up going there at one point or another during their stay in Paris.

While their macarons were good, it was too much of a tourist spot for Jason’s taste. There probably was a bakery out there that sold better macarons than the famous Maison Ladurée.

Urgh. Even the name sounded made him want to cringe. Snobbish much, huh?

“Then, let’s find it,” said Dick with a serious voice.

Jason looked away from the TV to face his brother. “Huh?”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Get your ass up this couch and let’s go find the best bakery in Paris!”

The second oldest of the Wayne siblings raised an eyebrow. “Do you realize how many bakeries there are in just Paris? We can’t possibly try them all.”

“You’re right. That’s why,” Dick paused, showing Jason his smartphone, “I’ve researched the best bakeries of Paris. I found two lists with a top ten of the best bakeries of Paris, and they don’t have one in common with the other!” he grinned, “so, I suggest we each take a list and try them all, and come back with a box of macarons from the one we thought was best!”

Jason looked at the list. If he tried them all and figured that the best one was one of the first he tried, it would mean going back there to buy a full box of macarons. It would be annoying to go back there again, but doable.

“What does the winner win?” he finally asked.

“Eh… Bragging rights?” at Jason’s expression, he tried again. “We’ll figure it out later.”

“Right. Then, may the best man win.”

They shook hands and were off in a matter of seconds.

This is how Jason found himself in front of the last bakery of the list — the one ranked second in the list, but it was the one the farthest from their hotel, and thus, the last one he tried — hoping it was closed yet. He really hoped this one would be the best because he wouldn’t have the time to go back to one of the other bakeries before closing time.

When he opened the door, he was met with a lot of pink. It was a cute and cozy bakery, making you want to find a seat, drink hot chocolate, and read next to the window while it was raining outside.

At the desk was a teenage girl around Damian’s age — sixteen, seventeen-year-old top — who looked visibly upset over something on her phone. When she heard him enter, she put the phone away, blinked several times to get rid of the tears that had gathered in her eyes, and smiled at him.

“Welcome to Tom et Sabine boulangerie pâtisserie! How can I help you?” she greeted him in French.

Jason made his way to the counter, looking over the different pastries. He glanced at the girl, patiently waiting for his order. She had black hair and blue eyes, half French and half Asian he guessed. She had a smile on her face, and not just a customer one, giving that she was visibly upset when he arrived, but a genuine one.

It made him want to ask her if he had to go and threaten someone, but he didn’t know the girl, and she didn’t know him, and what right did he have to ask?

“I’ll have a chocolate macaron, please,” he answered in French but with a heavy American accent.

She noticed and switched in English, which he was grateful for. He could speak French, but since he didn’t have the opportunity to practice it often, he was a bit rusty in the language.

“Of course, a big one or a small one?”

“A small one, please.”

She put the small macaron on a towel with a clamp and put it on the counter. “It will be one euro, please!”

He thanked her while paying and wasted no time in eating the small treat. The teen girl laughed when she saw him eat it in one bite.

“You know what?” he began after swallowing, deciding that this was the best one he had in his search. “I’ll take a whole box of these. I’ll even take two big ones!”

“Alright! That will be nine euros and fifty cents, please!” she said with a smile before preparing his order.

“Thanks again!” he said while handing her the money. “If the other pastries are as good as the macarons, you’ll see me again.”

She laughed. “I’m not exactly impartial, but the pastries are really, really good! So I guess I’ll see you again.”

He barked a laugh. “You can bet on it then!”

“Have a good night, sir!”

“Thanks!”

When he got back to the hotel room, Dick was already there with his own box of macarons, and they didn’t waist one more second before tasting the other’s finding.

Jason won, of course, and demanded fifty bucks as his reward.

And wasn’t it good to win a bet against his brother.

Just like he said he would, Jason came back to the bakery, with Dick with him. They tried all sorts of pastries, and even some quiches for lunch and everything was delicious. Dick made sure to note the name of the bakery somewhere on his phone so they could come back the next time they would come to Paris.

The teenage girl was still there, managing the desk and talking with the two of them when they stayed a bit longer to enjoy their food.

They learned that her name was Marinette and that she was seventeen — making her Damian’s age, just as Jason thought — and that she was the daughter of the owner. Since it was summer vacations, she helped her parents since they had more clients than ever thanks to tourism.

They learned that she was a fashion designer and that she learned English because of it. Since she wanted to start her own business one day, someone recommended that she learn English if she wanted it to be international. Speaking only one language wouldn’t do well, she explained.

While she was still in school, she had a small customer base already and did everything that needed to be done for it to be legal, and thus, was a freelance in fashion design. She was still in high school, entering her last year in September. She even expressed her desire to go to University in America, in a double major — fashion and business.

They visited the bakery every day for a week, learning to know each other a bit, but never once did she tell them anything that was upsetting her.

And Jason couldn’t help but wonder what could bring such a cheerful and positive girl like Marinette so close to tears.

It was on their last week in Paris that Jason found out.

He was on his way to the bakery to get his daily dose of pastries when he saw Marinette sitting on a bench in the park near her family’s business and home.

And she was crying.

He didn’t think about it as he made his way to Marinette and sat next to her.

“So, tell me, whose butt do I need to kick?”

She almost jumped, not having noticed him.

“God,” she breathed, “you scared me, don’t do that again.”

“My bad,” he apologized. “But tell me, what’s wrong?”

She let out a joyless laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you with my teenage drama.”

He playfully elbowed her. “Now, now. I’ve been a teen too, you know. And I know all about teenage drama. And I know that it’s not just nothing to you, right now. Maybe, later on, you’ll think so, but it matters to you now, so it’s important, you understand?” she nodded. “Just because you’re a teenager, it doesn’t mean your problems are meaningless, alright? I know adults tend to downplay teenager’s problem, but not me.” he ruffled her hair. “Now, tell everything to your big brother.”

She laughed and shoved him playfully. “You’re not my brother!”

“Well, now I am! I’m the brother you never asked for but got anyway. Deal with it.”

She laughed again, and he felt like he succeeded a little in cheering her up. “Alright, ‘big brother’, I’ll talk.”

She took a deep breath before facing him.

“It’s my boyfriend. He canceled on me. Again.” she laughed. “I know I shouldn’t be upset to be stood up, and I wasn’t the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But I’ve lost count of the times he ditched me for his friends, or for an event that just happened. And I tried to be understanding at first. It’s just… I’m doing everything to make our relationship work. I plan dates, even double dates because I know how much he loves his friends — our friends. But it feels like it’s one sided,” she paused, taking another deep breath. “But I haven’t properly talked to him in months because he keeps standing me up. I just… Does he want to break up with me? Is that what’s he’s trying to do, but is too much of a coward to do it properly? I… I guess I’m just realizing now that we haven’t be fine for months now.”

Jason sighed. “I can’t tell you what he’s thinking, and what is his reasoning behind his behavior because I don’t know him, but I’ll tell you this: it takes all the people involved in a relationship for it to work. If the other doesn’t put any work in it, it can’t work. It can be fixed, however, but you already tried, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Then, since you already try to fix your relationship, you have to ask yourself this question: are you happy with him?”

Tears gathered again in her eyes and she shook her head. “No… No, Jason, I’m not happy anymore.”

He opened his arms, inviting her in a hug, and she immediately threw herself in her arms.

“Then, I think you know what to do.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Marinette stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, I barely know you and I just dumped all my problems on you.”

“Hey, when I said that I was now your brother, I meant it. I take my duties as a big brother very seriously.”

The fashion designer laughed. “What, you just picked people on the street and claimed they are now your sibling or something?”

“No, you’re just special.”

She laughed. “I’m nothing special, but thank you. For listening to me and offering me friendship. I really appreciate it.”

He patted her hair. “Anytime, chouquette.”

They exchanged numbers before parting ways, this time without any pastries with him.

The next morning, Jason received a text from Marinette, stating that she broke up with her boyfriend. He asked for details, and she explained that he has been oblivious to it all and didn’t understand why she was breaking up with him. She said that she gave up on explaining anything and that they were just over.

He and Dick spent the last week at the bakery, trying to cheer Marinette up, which was not as hard as he expected it to be. While Marinette was sad that her relationship was over, she was also relieved. She had been hurt too much, and it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be hurting anymore.

Their two weeks stay unfortunately came to an end, and it was time to say goodbye to Marinette.

“Say, what do you think about going to Gotham for university,” he asked her with a grin. “We could see each other much more then.”

She snorted. “Yeah, right. Going to the most dangerous city in America. No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

He pouted. “But I would protect you.”

She laughed. “I have no doubt you would, but I think I’ll go to New York. I have an internship offer there than I can do alongside my studies,” she paused. “But hey, Gotham and New York are pretty close, no? We can still see each other.”

“One of my brothers is actually going to university in New York too next year! I’ll tell him to look after you!”

“What?! Come on Jason, I don’t need anyone looking after me!”

“Tutututu! Let your big brother handle it!”

“But you’re not my brother!”

#maribat #jasonette siblings #ooc characters i guess #ml x dc #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc

333 notes · View notes

justlovej2 · 4 years ago

Text

My J2 au fic recs

I thought it was time to make a list of some of my favorite j2 fics. This is au only. Not au coming next. Enjoy.

Absence from those we love

by mournthewicked

Word Count: 41,000

Link: https://users.livejournal.com/-mournthewicked/354607.html

Summary: Jensen Ackles led a great life. It just wasn’t the one he planned on. Now he’s newly single, stuck at a job he hates, and sharing an apartment with his lovably psychotic best friend. When he’s given the chance to go back and do it all over again, he leaps at it. Only he soon comes to realize that no matter what’s in front of him, it’s impossible to leave the past behind. Considering what he’d be giving up, he might not even want to. (17 again j2 style)

Like a music that holds my hands down

by saltandbyrne

Word Count: 22,891

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15310197

Summary: Perpetually-single pediatric dentist Jared lets his best friend Misha talk him into going to an anonymous BDSM party. Jared hooks up with a gorgeous stranger, but panics after their encounter and leaves before he can learn more about him. A year later, Jared is stunned to recognize Jensen Ackles as the father of one of his new patients and the guy from the best one-night stand of Jared’s life. With some encouragement from Jensen’s co-parent Danneel and Jared’s plucky office manager Genevieve, Jared realizes that he and Jensen might be perfect for each other after all.

Inked Verse

by non_timebo_mala

Word Count: 43,593

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/344780

Summary: Jared's been dying to get tattooed by renowned tattoo artist Jensen Ackles for ages. When he finally walks into the shop, he discovers he wants a lot more than just ink.

Gently play upon your heartstrings

by Cleflink

Word Count: 11,576

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032133

Summary: Jensen is the superstar lead singer of the world's hottest rock band and, as such, is totally not bitter about getting turned down by Jared fucking Padalecki. Too bad the guy manages the hotel that Jensen lives in and is incredibly difficult to ignore.

Superheroes suck, or, the unfortunately extraordinary life of Jensen Ackles

by Cleflink

Word Count: 33,055

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468711

Summary: Jensen hates superheroes. Having grown up with not one, but two of them in the family, he's more than aware of just how much having a spandex-clad alter ego can cock up the rest of your life. Luckily, his own powers tend towards the more passive, hippie florist side of things which - while embarrassing - means that all that superhero crap is someone else's problem. Or it would, if not for the frequent interference of superhero-obsessed friends, hostage situations, hotshot new superheroes and irritating relatives. Not to mention a boyfriend who has the uncanny ability to go missing whenever bad things are going down somewhere else in the city. Sometimes, Jensen's life is kind of bullshit.

The beat of our noisy hearts

by Cleflink

Word Count: 47,890

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909642

Summary: In a world where heartbreak is a literal condition, it's Jared's job to sew, fill and patch the physical wounds left in people's hearts by lost loves, misunderstandings and betrayals. Jared's own love life is more than a little dire, largely because Jensen doesn't date and Jared doesn't do one-night stands, but he's got good friends and a job he loves, so he figures that he can't complain too much. When a killer attacks Jensen, Jared discovers that a needle and thread, desperation and a sharp scalpel are enough to save Jensen's life, but at a cost that is going to change Jared's life forever and tie them both together in a way that goes far deeper than flesh.

And the rest, as they say, is history

by Raina_at

Word Count: 17,728

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012887

Summary: Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history.

A different kind of team building

by ashtraythief

Word Count: 8,924

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683401

Summary: Jensen is a facts and graphs kind of guy; he never should have started working at a hipster California startup. His boss is insane, everybody’s wearing beanies, and Jared, the tall and cute head creative designer, thinks Jensen is too stuck up to work at One Tree Solutions. And now they’re going on a company retreat. But when the sleeping arrangements don’t work out as planned, Jensen realizes that maybe he didn’t have all the facts after all.

Hustle & Heart

by righteousbros

Word Count: 16,819

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143701

Summary: Jensen is the star quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers and he lives and breathes the game of football. Then at a charity signing event he runs into Jared, his former teammate and his former flame. It's been years since they've spoken, but Jensen hasn't been able to let the feelings he has for Jared go. To complicate matters, Jared is on the brink of a major decision that will change his life and the history of the sport forever. Now Jensen has to decide if he has the courage to speak up and claim his chance at happiness too.

Cuffs

by TwoBoys2Love

Word Count: 87,156

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283929

Summary: Detective Ackles gets a new partner who may be a bit of a challenge. They have different views about everything. Ackles picks up some work on a new case that reveals his partner's secret and dredges up the past.

The American Bachelor

by dugindeep (hotsauce)

Word Count: 21,415

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774633

Summary: Jensen Ackles is the first openly gay president, but that's the least of his worries. He's battling the press on his continued international trips to keep the peace, he has a 12-year-old to raise on his own, and he's trying to make something happen with the hot florist he just met. Jared Padalecki, on the other hand, is trying to not go insane at the prospect that the country's most eligible bachelor, and the world's most powerful man, is trying to woo him.

Splintering in slow motion

by cyndrarae

Word Count: 30,881

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526416

Summary: Jared has been fighting the ‘darkness’ for as long as he can remember, until he can’t, or doesn’t want to anymore. He decides to treat himself to one final weekend of fun before laying down his arms, so to speak. The last thing he expects is a gatecrasher, someone who might derail his best-laid plans for good.

Apocalypse: Cancelled

by jeyhawk

Word Count: 28,000

Link: https://jeyhawk-fic.livejournal.com/62095.html

Summary: July 7, 2008 at 2 a.m. in the morning a comet will hit Earth, destroying all human life. Humanity gets 54 hours to prepare and chaos ensues. A chance encounter has straight architect Jared Padalecki saving the life of deeply closeted movie star Jensen Ackles. The unlikely couple cling to each other during what they think will be their last days on earth, but what happens to the relationship they built when the world doesn't end after all?

Slowly, with each touch and each kiss

by whisperedstory

Word Count: 24,136

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607546

Summary: When Jensen starts coming to JD's, the cocktail bar where Jared works, Jared is instantly interested in him. What starts out as a one-night stand quickly becomes a casual arrangement that Jared could easily see turning into more. But Jensen isn't looking for something serious and Jared would rather settle for being friends with benefits than not having Jensen in his life at all.

Baby, it’s cold outside

by Merenwen76

Word Count: 35,245

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177129

Summary: Christmas is the best time of the year for Jared. But this time he's caught in a blizzard. With his boss, of all people. - Jensen Ackles This one not only hates Christmas but is also extremely hot.

A song in the stars

by strive2bhappy

Word Count: 39,813

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11224314

Summary: Jared Padalecki has dreamed of taking to the skies since he was five-years-old. When he becomes an adult and builds a spaceship of his own, he gets to do just that, looking for adventure -- little did he know the adventure waiting for him. Jensen Ackles is born part human, part Terryn and his life as an outcast is difficult -- music is his only real escape. When he's captured by the Dominion, an organization hell-bent on taking over every galaxy in every way they can, he's used as a lab experiment to see how his special, combined heritage can be advantageous for them. Fleeing Dominion control, he vows to himself, they will never find him again. A chance meeting between Jared and Jensen helps both of them get what they're looking for -- and the way things end up, it may have been more than just chance. From various planets throughout different galaxies, to nights under the stars in space, Jared and Jensen find in each other something worth fighting -- and possibly dying -- for.

#j2 fics #j2 au fic recs #j2 fic rec #au only

72 notes · View notes

vldkeith · 3 years ago

Text

Dolphin Kisses

a/n: This fic is based/inspired from my experience at this boat ride thing I went on some time ago and I just klance-ified it lol. Anyways this whole fic is just some super cheesy stuff my brain barfed up and yeah, I have nothing else to say besides enjoy <33 -Klance Day

☆°☆°☆° ☆

Lance wanted to go on a date with Keith; but not just any date. The perfect date. So Lance finds himself in front of the wheel, driving Keith to the oceanfront. It was a really pleasant day outside. The scent of the salty sea grew stronger as the scenery changed from suburban family homes to tourist attraction stops and stores. Radio songs hummed in the background and filtered out from the open car windows. Lance peeks at his right to Keith, just to make sure that he was having a good time. “‘You excited to be on a boat, mullet?” he asks cheerfully. “For the last time, Lance, I don’t know. It’s my first time.” “I know, I know. You’re worried about getting seasick,” Lance nonchalantly waves off. “But not to worry, babe. If you feel the slightest weakness, don’t be hesitant to fall into my arms.�� Keith scoffs at his dramatics. “Sure.” ☆°☆°☆° They finally reach The White Lion boat ride dock, and Lance parks the car on the old, cracking concrete below it. The two walk out and start heading towards the ticket and tour center, but to be honest, the “center” was more of a big shack with dull yellow and pink paint peeling right off of it. Lance pulls out his phone and shows the lady at the front desk his reservation time. She nods wordlessly and hands him two white tickets. Lance smiles and runs back to Keith, waving the paper slips in the air. “Let’s go!” He points towards the line on the dock to the boats. A few boats line the edge of the water. Lance motions his hand to the purple one with waves. “That’s the boat we’re getting on." Keith grins and scoots a little closer to Lance as more people fill up the wooden platform. Lance plants a light kiss on his head. A few minutes later, a bulky man walks by the clustered line. "The 4:30PM White Lion’s Roar boat tour has been canceled due to an engine malfunction,” he starts. Lance’s heart drops to his shoes and frowns. He glances at Keith, who wears a similar expression. “You can get refunds at the ticket center and come back another day, or book for a another boat at a later time,” the man finishes. “We are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused. Have a good evening.” As soon as the man walks away, dissapointed murmers ripple throughout the crowd. They all start to disperse and head towards the ticket desk. “I’m sorry,” Lance sighs. So much for a perfect date, he thinks. “It’s okay,” Keith comforts. “We can just go on another boat.” He grabs Lance’s arm and tugs as they walk back to get new tickets. This time, Keith is at the desk, and Lance stays back. He blows out a puff of air, slightly smiling at his boyfriend. Sometimes, he still can’t believe that they’ve been dating for almost four months now. Keith reaches back to Lance to show off their new tickets. He starts to explain, “I got another boat tour for five o'clock. Don’t worry it’s the same price and we got refunded from the first tickets. It’s a slower boat, but it goes farther, and it garuntees dolphin sightings.” Lance smirks. “That’s my Keith,” he responds. ☆°☆°☆° Twenty minutes later, a new line has fully formed for the new, bigger boat. Two kids and a grandma are chattering beside Lance and Keith. “Look, there’s a Poké-Spot on the boat!” one of the kids cheers. “Quit your Pokémon Go-ing,” the grandma snaps. Lance chuckles and turns his attention back to Keith. Soon, people began boarding. Right before they stepped on the boat, a young lady with a White Lion t-shirt stops the two boys. “Excuse me sirs,” she raises her camera. “But we are offering pictures for the boat ride that you can purchase at the end of the ride. Would you like to take a picture?” “Sure,” Lance replies as he wraps his arm around Keith and makes a peace sign with his free hand. “Smile!” The lady clicks her camera. “Thank you for choosing The White Lion boat tours,” she welcomes. ☆°☆°☆° Lance and Keith both decided beforehand that they wanted to go to the second floor of the boat, so they scurry quickly up the stairs in hopes to get a good spot. Thankfully, they manage to grab spots at the front. Lance sits down on the bench and Keith plops right beside him. As soon as the boat starts humming, a voice comes to the speakers. “Hello, and welcome to The White Lion’s Pounce boat tour,” a supposedly Australian man cheers. “My name is Coran, and I will be your guide on this trip. Firstly, let’s go over some safety rules.” The man goes on to explain where the life jackets are, what to do if you feel seasick, and other various things to know when on a boat. Lance can tell the Keith’s attention has already wandered from the peppy voice’s informative talks. Right now, Keith is staring out onto the long stretch of water before them, and Lance couldn’t help but smile. “But Lance! I don’t even like the beach!” He could still hear Keith’s complaints from a couple days ago. “It will be fun, babe! New experiences and all,” Lance persuaded. “Besides, I already bought the tickets, so we have to go.” Lance’s pleading worked, of course. It’s just his natural charming boyfriend skills. ☆°☆°☆° The boat finally made its way out of the dock and through the mouth of the small river into the ocean. People fishing on the edge of the big rocks and stones waved as the boat went by. Eventually, Lance stands up to the railing, and looks out. The boat was gently gliding on the water, rocking slightly with the dips and peaks of the waves. Keith joins him in a little bit, placing his hand over Lance’s, which was already on the rail. Now, the scene was different. The boat is gliding at a steady pace parallel to the boardwalk. From the distance, the people, umbrellas, towels, and small tents looked like blended spots dotting the long stretch of beach. Behind them stood hotels and restaurants varying in size, color, and shape. Lance spots a Marriot, a Hilton, and a Holiday Inn as they pass by. The Marriot looked the newest with its glassy, black exterior. Soon, the long and busy boardwalk mellowed down to the more open, lesser used beach. Hotels turned into private rental houses, and the crowds faded. Lance pointed to a small lilac house. “'You wanna stay there someday for a vacation?” he jokingly asks Keith. The other boy scoffs in response. “As if. More than a day at this sandy giver of salt and sunburns and I will actually die.” Lance giggles. “Okay, you vampire.” Keith glances away as his mouth turns upwards in a slight grin. ☆°☆°☆° A few more minutes pass when the boat halts to an even slower turtle’s pace. The speakers crackle as Coran begins to speak. “We are approaching our dolphin sight-seeing spot, folks!” he says with almost too much enthusiasm. “While you keep your eyes peeled for them, take a moment to look again in front of you to our very own Seagull’s Peak Lighthouse! Originally built in…” Lance’s ears blocks out the rest because his eyes are busy darting around for any signs of dolphins. Finally, a gray fin popped up from the water. “Dolphin!” Lance yells. Keith turns his head around to where Lance’s eyes were staring. “'Looks like we spotted our first dolphins! Ladies and gentlemen, look out for more.” The crowd oohed and ahhed as more and more dolphins appear splash around the boat. Coran continues, talking more about the dolphins. Lance spots Keith grinning excitedly at the intermittent dolphins. He smiles to himself, content with the fact that his boyfriend was enjoying this too. ☆°☆°☆° Eventually, the boat turned around and they were heading back the way they came. Keith had prompted that both of them go downstairs for a change, and Lance happily agreed. The boat was shaking and rocking back and forth as it made its way through the water, so it was hard to balance when walking. Fortunately, Keith and Lance had each other’ hands to hold on to, so they walk to and down the stairs and towards the front much easier. “Woah,” Keith gasps when he sees rests his hands on the railing, looking on to the ocean from a much closer view. “Yeah. This thing’s going pretty fast, isn’t it?” Keith opens his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a random child squealing. “Mommy! Look it’s a rainbow!” Keith and Lance look up to see a faded, but visible arch of colors that the girl was pointing too. Other families took notice and began to stare in awe. “That’s kinda gay,” Lance jokes, lightheartedly jabbing Keith’s side with his elbow. Keith snickers along. He smirks, arching an eyebrow. “You think?” ☆°☆°☆° “And that concludes our boat ride! Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for choosing the White Lion! Photos are available for purchase at the docking point of the boat. Have a wonderful evening.” The speakers crackle again after the announcement before playing random pop songs as it did at the beginning of the tour. Soon, the air fills with sounds chatting and talking as the passengers filed out of the boat onto the dock. Lance and Keith were among one of the last people to go out, so it was less crowded when they finally step onto the platform. The lady from before handed them their photo from the start of the trip, and soon, the two were back in the car. This time, Keith was in the driver’s seat. “So,” Lance starts. “How did you like it?” he asks in a sing song voice. “It was good,” Keith responds, putting on his seat belt. He should have been happy, but Lance deflates from how monotone Keith sounded. “That’s all?" Keith must have taken notice of Lance’s grimace because he quickly rushed to add a supposedly forced, "It was great! The dolphins and rainbow were very cool!” “I thought you were enjoying it,” Lance reprimands, his lips pursed and brows tight. “I guess not.” “No, Lance, it’s not like that,” Keith trails. “I had a really good time.” “You don’t have to lie about it.” Keith pouts in response, but doesn’t press any further. He plugs the key into the car, and they leave the parking lot in silence. ☆°☆°☆° Lance stares out the window, taking in the busy streets of the oceanfront. He expects that in a few minutes, the sight would be gone as they leave the area, but as more time passes, it seems that they were going deeper in. “Hey, are you sure we’re going the right way?” Lance asks, not even moving his head to face Keith. “Yes.” He hears in response. “But it looks like we’re heading towards the beach,” Lance counters, finally turning his attention to his boyfriend. “It almost seems like that’s the point,” Keith replies, voice sarcastically high. “Are you taking us…?” Lance doesn’t finish his sentence, and Keith doesn’t bother to fill it in. ☆°☆°☆° The car comes to a halt on a sandy parking lot. A couple of children chase and run around eachother as adults pop open their trunks to take out various beach toys and towels. Keith’s seat belt clicks open, and opens the door to come out. He motions his hands for Lance to come out as well, but Lance was still trying to process what they might even be doing here. “Come on,” Keith drags. “We don’t have all day.” “Okay..” Lance tags the word with suspicion. He steps out and joins Keith. The two walk down the sandy ramp to the actually beach. They walk wordlessly, until finally, they reach the water. Keith plops down on the semi wet sand, and pats down next to him for Lance to follow. He sits down. Now, Lance was throughly confused. “What are we doing here?” He finally asks. “You, like, hate the beach.” “Yeah, but you love it.” Lance’s face flushes when he sees Keith give a small smile. “I thought that I could make it up to you if I brought you here. I’m sorry for not being enthusiastic enough,” Keith mumbles. Lance perks up, and he waves his arms. “No, Keith! I’m sorry. I should have trusted you when you said you were having a good time,” he huffs. “I was just expecting a little more response than a ‘It was good.’ But it’s okay, I know you meant well.” He slowly wraps an arm around Keith and pulls him closer. “Thanks for bringing us here,” Lance whispers into Keith’s hair. “I appreciate it.” The Sun dips behind them, creating a soft blend of blues, oranges, and pinks all around the beach. Waves peacefully crash up and down, creating one of the only noises on the lesser crowded beach. Lance pretends nobody else is there but him and Keith as he leans forward to kiss him. One kiss turned to two, to three, to more than he could keep track of. Soon enough, they were both smiling so hard, none of them could continue. The giggle and hug; Lance only occasionally pressing his lips against Keith’s forehead. “Hey, you,” Lance sighs contently. “Hey.” “'Wanna know a secret?” The other boy smirks. “Yeah.” Lance leans to Keith’s ear before whispering, “I love you.” Keith stifles a laugh. “That wasn’t a secret, idiot.” “But it still made your heart race, didn’t it?” Lance light heartedly retorts. Instead of giving a proper response, Keith pulls Lance in for another kiss. “'Love you too,” he finally says with a barely audible voice. Sometimes Lance wonders what he did to deserve someone as wonderful as Keith. He doesn’t know, and probably never will. That doesn’t stop him from loving Keith, though. He’ll never stop loving Keith.

#voltron #klance #klance fanfiction #lance mcclain #keith kogane #I LOVE IT KLANCE DAY...SO CUTE 🥺🥺🥺#makes me want to go to a beacha sdkjghfdsjkghfjdsk #txt

14 notes · View notes

snarksandkisses · 5 years ago

Text

What I think about COVID-19 this morning - Malia Jones, PhD, MPH

What I think about COVID-19 this morning

March 5, 2020

Maybe I'm the closest thing you personally know to an infectious disease epidemiologist. Maybe not--I'm not an expert on this virus by any stretch, but I have general knowledge and training from studying epidemics that is applicable, so here are my thoughts.

First and foremost: we are going to see a tremendous increase in the number of US cases of COVID-19 in the next week. This is not because of some new pattern in the spread of the disease, but rather due to a major change in the requirements to be tested. Until yesterday, if you had flulike illness but had not recently traveled to China, Italy, South Korea, or Iran, you could not be tested. This is just the way healthcare works, you get tested if you meet the case definition and the case definition included travel.

As of yesterday, you can be tested if you are sick and have a doctor's order to be tested. So expect things to feel a lot more panicky all of a sudden. We will see hundreds or thousands of new cases as a result of testing increases.

Second: is that panic legitimate? Sort of. This is not the zombie apocalypse. The death rate of 30 deaths per 1000 cases is probably a wild overestimate. (The denominator is almost certainly wrong because it is confirmed cases--and we only confirm cases when we test for them). That said, even at 3 per 1000 cases, this would be a big deal. A very big deal. By way of comparison, the death rate for influenza is between 1 and 2 in 1000 cases. So, yeah. Roughly 0x to 30x worse than a huge global flu pandemic? That's a problem.

Unlike flu, COVID-19 is not *particularly* dangerous for children, so that’s some happy news. It is dangerous for older adults and those with lung conditions, so we need to be extra careful to protect those populations from exposure.

Also, for millions of Americans, getting any serious illness requiring a hospitalization is a major problem because they can't pay for it. And our health care system is probably going to struggle to keep up with it all. And with China basically closed, our global economy is going to take a huge hit and we'll feel the shockwaves for years. Those are real concerns.

What can we do? Our focus should be on *slowing down the spread* of this disease so that we have time to get caught up. Here is my advice:

1. Wash. Your. Hands. Wash them so much.

The current best guess is that coronavirus is transmitted via close contact and surface contamination. A very small study came out yesterday suggesting that the virus causing COVID-19 is *mostly* transmitted via contact with contaminated surfaces.

I have started washing my hands each time I enter a new building and after being in shared spaces (classrooms especially), in addition to the standard practice of washing after using the bathroom and before eating. Soap and water. Hand sanitizer also kills this virus, as does rubbing alcohol (the main ingredient in hand sanitizer).

There is no need to be obsessive about this. Just wash your hands. A little bit more effort here goes a long way.

2. Don’t pick your nose. Or put your fingers in your mouth, on your lips, or in your eyes. Surface contact works like this: you touch something dirty. Maybe it's an elevator button. Virus sticks to your hands. Then you rub your eye. Then you touch your sandwich, and put the sandwich in your mouth. Now there is virus in your eyes and mouth. See?

You may be thinking, but I don’t pick my nose because I am an adult! An observational study found that people sitting at a desk working touched their eyes, nose, or lips between 3 and 50 times per hour. Perfectly normal grown-ups, not lowlifes like my friends.

2a. There was one note that came out suggesting that face masks actually promote surface contamination because you're always adjusting them--i.e., touching your face. I don’t know if that’s true. But face masks should not be worn by the public right now, unless you are the person who is sick and you're on your way to or actually at the doctor's office. The mask’s function is to prevent spit from flying out of your mouth and landing on things when you cough or sneeze. It flies out of your mouth and is caught in the mask instead. If you are the person who is sick and not on the way to the doctor, go home. Let the people who really need them have the masks. Like doctors.

[ETA on 3/6/2020 honestly people I am getting so much push back on the mask recommendation!! The world is running low on masks. If everyone wants a mask so they can feel ok about keeping their Daytona Beach Spring Break plans and then hospitals in India can't buy them anymore, shame on us.]

Coronavirus does not appear to be airborne in the sense that doesn't remain floating around freely in the air for a long time, like measles does. You are probably not going to breathe it in, unless someone is coughing in front of you. If someone is coughing in your face, feel free to tell them to get their ass home and move 6 feet away from them. (Yeah I know, if you have a toddler, you're screwed.)

3. Sanitize the objects you and lots of other people touch, especially people outside your family--like door handles, shared keyboards at schools (brrr), salad bar tongs, etc. Best guesses are that the virus can live on surfaces for 2-48 hours, maybe even longer, depending on the surface, temperature, and humidity.

Many common household cleaning products will kill this virus. However, white vinegar solution does not. You can make your own inexpensive antimicrobial spray by mixing 1 part household bleach to 99 parts cold tap water. Spray this on surfaces and leave for 10-30 minutes. Note: this is bleach. It will ruin your sofa.

4. "Social distancing." You're going to get so sick of this phrase. This means keeping people apart from one another (preferably 6 feet apart, and sanitizing shared objects). This public health strategy is our next line of defense, and its implementation is what will lead to flights and events cancelled, borders closed, and schools closed.

For now, you could limit face-to-face meetings, especially large ones. Zoom is an excellent videoconferencing option. If you spend time in shared spaces, see #1. Ask your child's school about their hygiene plan, if they haven't already told you what it is. If I were in charge of a school setting, I'd be hand sanitizing the s*** out of the kids' hands, including in and out of each space, and taking temperatures at the door. I am planning to email our school nurse right after this to ask if they need my volunteer help cleaning surfaces.

If you can telecommute, do that a little more. If you are someone's boss and they could do their job remotely, encourage them to do that.

Avoid large gatherings of people if at all possible, especially if they are in an area with cases OR places that lots of people travel to. If you attend group events and start to feel even a little bit sick within 2 to 14 days, you need to self isolate immediately. Like for a tiny tickle in your throat.

5. All your travel plans are about to get screwed up. If you are considering booking flights right now, get refundable tickets. ETA: most trip insurance will not cover cancellations due to a pandemic. Look for "cancel for any reason" trip insurance.

Considerations for risks related to that trip you’re planning: how bad would it be if you got stuck where you are going for 3 to 6 weeks? How bad would it be to be isolated at home for 2-3 weeks upon your return? Do you have direct contact with people who are over 70 and/or have lung conditions? If those seem really bad to you, rethink your trip, especially if it is to a location where there are confirmed cases.

6. If you are sick, stay home. Please! For the love of all that is holy. Stay at home. Your contributions to the world are really just not that important.

7. There is a good chance some communities will see school cancelled and asked to limit non-essential movement. If someone in your family gets sick your family will almost certainly be isolated for 2-3 weeks (asked to stay at home). You could start stocking up with essentials for that scenario, but don't run out and buy a years' worth of toilet paper. Again, not the apocalypse. 2 weeks' worth of essential items. Refill any prescriptions, check your supply of coffee, kitty litter, and jigsaw puzzles.

8. I do want to remind everyone that when public health works, the result is the least newsworthy thing ever: nothing happens. If this all fizzles out and you start feeling like ‘Wah, all that fuss for nothing??’ Then send a thank-you note to your local department of public health for a job well done. Fingers crossed for that outcome.

9. Look, I think there are some positives here. All this handwashing could stop flu season in its tracks! We have an opportunity to reduce our global carbon footprint by telecommuting more, flying less, and understanding where our stuff comes from. We can use this to think about the problems with our healthcare system. We can use this to reflect on our positions of privilege and implicit biases. We can start greeting each other using jazz hands. I'm genuinely excited about those opportunities.

There is a lot we don't yet know about this virus. It didn't even exist 90 days ago. So stay tuned, it is an evolving situation. The WHO website has a decent FAQ. Free to email or text with questions, and you can forward this to others if you think it's useful.

May the force be with you.

Malia Jones, PhD, MPH

[email protected]

I’m an Assistant Scientist in Health Geography at the Applied Population Laboratory at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I study social contact of humans, and spatial patterns of infectious disease, among other things.

P.S. The number one question I am getting is, did you really write this? Yes. I wrote this.

I didn't write it for professional purposes, so I didn't put my work email on it. It was really just meant to be an email to my friends and family in advance of what I expect to be an escalation in the panic level. But it was apparently welcome information and went viral on FB. I've decided not to edit out the swears, even though I wrote this with a much smaller audience in mind.

Thanks for checking your facts! Go science!

#COVID-19 #coronavirus #wash your hands #Social distancing #don't panic #but maybe just a little panic

1K notes · View notes

castiel-loves-pudding · 4 years ago

Text

Okay, hear me out,,,

I’ve recently once again come across the show Pushing Daisies (Bryan Fuller creator of Hannibal also made this show. Do what you will with this info.) I remember seeing this show when I was younger and loving it. I really, really recommend it to anyone who loves a quirky love story with a side of fantasy crime. (Heads up though, the series was unfortunately cancelled and was left on a cliffhanger. So if your poor heart can take that, knowing you won’t have a happy ending, go for it.... *cries* but some of you may already be used that. Haha am I right?! *bum dum tss* I’ll see my way out.) That being said, watching it again there was one thing that kept popping up in my mind. This could be a perfect AU for Destiel.

I have a feeling I’m not the only one who’s had this thought. But I haven’t seen a post, but there MUST be other people who’ve felt the same way as me. Let’s start with the basics of story,

First up we have Ned, the Pie Maker

That’s right, the Pie maker. Now let’s think for a bit, who do we know loves pies. Probably dreams about them too. *taps chin* Ah, could it be out very own Dean Winchester.

Why yes, I think that’s our guy. Okay okay, let’s move on.

The love interest and Lover of Bees and Honey, Charlotte “Chuck” Charles.

Now that also sounds very similar. A fan of bees and honey? Whoa there. Kind of sounds like the blue eyed angel we all know and love. Castiel as a matter of fact.

Then last but not least, Emerson Cod. A business friend and fellow Private investigator, who with the help of Ned, solve crimes.

Apart from being a sassy investigator who reminds me a lot of Sammy, Emerson also knits when really stressed. And let’s just say, I would love that for Sam.

Okay I think that should cover it for who would be who for now. But trust me, there are other wonderful characters in the show, who would also be fun to swap and place supernatural characters. Now let me give you further details to the story, for those who aren’t too familiar with the show.

Ned the Piemaker can bring dead people back to life with a single touch. Of course there are consequences:

Touch a dead person (or any life form) once, they come back

Touch alive person again, they die (again) permanently this time though

Revived person can only stay alive for about a minute, if longer then another life form (equal to the one revived) has to takes its place and die. That’s the consequence.

Pretty straight forward right? So Ned and Chuck, what’s their story. It all starts when they’re kids, neighbors across each other who play together. Ned soon enough has a crush on Chuck but before anything else can happen, Neds mother dies (from an aneurysm I believe). Ned knowing he has the gift to bring people back, touches his mother.

As of now, Ned has no idea of the rules regarding his gift. So when his Mother passes the minute mark, Chucks father dies in her place. Ned is aware of this and feels guilty. Later in the day when Ned is placed to bed, his mother kisses him good night... killing her instantly. This is where he learns about not being able to bring people back a second time. Now both parents dead on the same day, a week later both have funerals on the same day. Where both Ned and Chuck see each other for the last time. And overcome with emotions and what not, they have their first kiss. This would be the last time they see each other. For now. Ned is immediately after sent to a boarding school, father practically leaving him to start up a new family. (*cough* just as bad as J*hn Winchester *cough*) And Chuck, she goes to live with her two aunts who are antisocial.

20 years later, Ned now has a grasp on how his gift works and currently works as a pie maker. One day a perp was running away from Emerson and jumped off a building. His body immediately bounces off of Ned, who had been taking out trash in the back alley, and comes back to life. Knowing what he has to do, he runs after the guy and touches him again. Emerson saw everything and is now the only other guy who knows about Neds gift. They get to talking and form an alliance as business partners solving crimes and splitting the cash reward. Ned questions the dead and both figure out the rest. That’s when suddenly, Chuck is in front of Ned as a deceased person with a questionable death.

Doing what he does, Ned brings back Chuck, but is immediately bombarded with his feelings of her and rekindling his crush from childhood. Taking a long time to think and finally letting Chuck live past the minute mark. (Someone else dies.) Ned explains their current situation to Chuck, and how he can no longer touch her, specifically no skin contact.

Now this is the fun part, these two being in love, but having to work their way around being intimate with each other. And that’s where you get amazing solutions to their affection seeking. Because we really don’t want Chuck to die.

Kissing like this

Ooor like this :)

Holding hands by imitating the feeling like this

🥺🥺🥺

Gosh I’m a sucker for that. Sue me.

This is all great stuff, right!! Now imagine all this, but Destiel. I know I know.

😔🤚

I’ll give you minute to let that sink in.... okay now it’s been sunk in. But think about it! Like in the show, there would be moments where Castiel would trip and Dean would (against his very will) won’t catch Cas. And when Dean wants to hug Cas, he’ll ask Sam to do it in his place. (Later on they find they can hug safely with a plastic sheet.) But in the meantime Sam has to (reluctantly) offer the comfort Dean wishes he could give Cas.

Cas with his bees making amazing honey, that gets glazed onto Deans wonderful pies 😋. Solving crimes alongside with Sam (who sometimes is 100% done with their antics. Because he really doesn’t have times for this bs, they have to solve the case!)

Both Dean and Cas sleeping in the same room on separate beds. (Later a plastic sheet wall is placed on a bed so they can now sleep together.) Dean telling Cas to sit in the back seat of the car so they don’t accidentally touch each other in the front. Soon Dean modifying the front by placing a plastic wall and a glove hole so they can hold hands. (Ahhh me corazon 😫🫀 it hurts.) Dean getting extremely jealous when other people catch Cas, preventing him from falling. Or holding his hands. (I’m dead. That’s it. I’m gone.)

#seriously though there must be other people who thought of this #right?!?!#I mean look at that #piemaker and bee lover???#that’s as clear as day Destiel content right there #please anyone #you see it to right #dean winchester #jensen ackles #misha collins #destiel #supernatural #sam winchester #deancas #pushing daisies #I will most definitely be adding to this #just you wait

57 notes · View notes

restmyheadatnightcontent · 4 years ago

Text

speak the language of love (like you know what it means)

"Have you had any experiences recently that have caused you stress or anxiety?”

Yennefer snorts.

“Well, I went from living in a 3000 square foot penthouse flat in Cintra to a hotel room in the middle of nowhere so—”

Geralts eyes widen. “That sounds like it would do it.”

Julian Pankratz, one of the Continent's most famous playboys, always invited to the hottest parties, always seen with the best of the best, is enjoying his lavish life in his huge Cintran apartment when he suddenly gets cut off by his parents and is sent to live in the middle of nowhere.

It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to him.

(aka the incredibly indulgent schitts creek au that I wrote)

Bloody hell, Jaskier thinks to himself again as he dragged his suitcase through the mud. Well, one of his suitcases. One of his many, many suitcases. Looking at the small army of luggage surrounding him, he might be willing to admit that there may be a small chance he has overpacked and maybe the driver had a right to be annoyed but it’s too late to worry about that now. And what was he supposed to do? Receiving the news that he was suddenly getting kicked out and cut off meant that he wasn’t exactly in his prime packing mindset. Hence, he seems to have packed everything he owns, and who knows when he’s going to be going home.

If he's going to be going home.

Nope. Not thinking about that. He’s saving his breakdown about all this until he has had time to find lots of chocolate and lots of wine. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he somehow manages to drag himself along with his suitcases towards the front door.

The Cock & Bull.

The Cock & Bull in Prickwell.

Despite it all, he has to admit the name is funny. He just wishes it wasn’t where he was going to be living for the foreseeable future.

Pushing the door open to the small hotel, he enters what he can only assume is the reception. It’s not a particularly large room and seems to be worse for wear (understatement of the century) but right now its most redeeming quality is its distinct lack of rain.

“Hello, welcome to the Cock and Bull. I’m Yennefer,” the woman behind the desk says tiredly, without looking away from her computer “How can I help you?”

“Hello – hi – I, uh - I believe there’s a reservation for me?” he asks “It should be under Pankratz, Julian Pankratz.”

She types the name into her computer and then frowns “I’ve got nothing down here.”

Shit. “Maybe under Alfred Pankratz?”

“Still not seeing anything.”

“Shit. Right,” he was hoping to keep this information private but without this place he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. “Erm so long story but my Dad kind of owns this place? And, I uh may have been slightly cut off? So my Dad booked me a room here as a punishment. He said forever but I’m pretty sure that was a joke and he’s just trying to teach me a lesson so he probably booked it for like a week or something?”

“Oh, that’s you. I assumed that email was a joke. But yeah, there is a room that I can put you in.”

“Great, so is it like a penthouse suite or-?”

“It’s a single room. Sorry, all our suites are booked up.” She replies with what he thinks may be sarcasm “Here’s your key. It’s room 4, just up the stairs on the right. Breakfast is from half 7 to 10 in the morning. If you need anything else, I’ll be here.” “Right.” He looks at the mountain of luggage behind him “So is there like a concierge or someone to carry my bags?”

“Do we look like the kind of place that has a concierge?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you’re here maybe you could—"

“I have to watch the desk,” she says simply.

“Well is there a lift or anything?”

“Round the corner, but it’s a bit temperamental. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Great.”

It takes him an embarrassingly long time and an embarrassing number of trips but eventually he manages to get all his bags up the stairs into the room.

He looks around the room. It’s not the worst place he’s ever stayed, but its close. His bags take up almost fill the room, not that there is much else in it: a small bed, a bedside table, a tiny wardrobe that can barely fit half of suitcase in it, a small TV and the most disgusting wallpaper that he has ever seen.

The one saving grace of the room is the window, or rather the view out the window. Out of the small window, in the distance he can just about make out a sandy beach and the blue of the sea.

A shower. That will make him feel better.

He steps into the tiny cubicle and lets the lukewarm water trickle over him, but instead of making him feel better, the only thing running through his mind is the conversation he had with his parents only a few hours ago.

“We’re cutting you off, Julian,” his father announced, storming into his bedroom and ripping open the curtains.

“I’m sorry?” He glanced at the clock and realised he had only been in bed for about 2 hours, having been out all night and stumbling in at 6am. He was not prepared in the least for a visit from his father. At least this time he hadn’t brought anyone home, the last time his father had barged in for a morning lecture they had had to wait awkwardly whilst the model he had spent the night with gathered her clothes and left.

“We’re cutting you off,” Alfred repeated, “You’ve been gallivanting around and partying far too much and wasting all my money and I’m sick of it,”

“Well its on my card so technically its my money!”

“No it isn’t! It is my money that I earned by working, and I will not have you waste it whoring yourself out all over the place!”

“I am not ‘whoring myself out’! And you gave that money to me and put it on my card so it’s mine!”

“I gave it you in the hopes that you would do something worthwhile with it but you’ve just pissed it up the wall, wracking up debts and you’ve turned this family into a laughing stock.”

“Well, I’m sorry for having a bit of fun! Gods.”

“Well, the fun is over now. I’ve cancelled all your accounts and I’ve sold your flat, which should just about cover the debts and we’re sending you away—”

“What do you mean ‘you’re sending me away’? I’m not a fucking child! I’m an adult and you can’t just sell my house and kick me out onto the street like some kind of dog!”

“I’m not kicking you out. I’ve booked you a room in a hotel.”

Oh well, that changes things, he had thought. A few nights in the Savoy while he waits for them to calm down won’t be too bad.

“The car will be here to pick you up in 20 minutes and it will take you to your flat to sort your things before taking you to Kaedwen.”

“Kaedwen? Why the fuck is it taking me to Kaedwen?”

“I told you – I’ve booked you a room on a hotel. And you’ll stay there for two months until you’ve sorted yourself out.”

“But why Kaedwen? Wait – are you sending me to that hotel you bought ages ago for a joke?” His father just nods and Jaskier lets out a manic laugh. “Of course you are. Fine send me off to the middle of fucking nowhere. But why are you selling my flat if I’m only there for 2 months?”

“Oh, you won’t be coming back. I’m only paying for the room for 2 months, and then it’s up to you,” he says matter-of-factly.

“But – I – you can’t!”

“Oh, I think you’ll find I can and I am,” his father says calmly “Ten minutes Julian.”

So he was taken to his flat and given half an hour to pack his belongings whilst the driver – Jon or Jan or Pieter or something – stands and watches on, whilst he frantically he throws all the clothes he can find into a suitcase, grabbing whatever he can. He at least got some help carrying his bags down to the car and throwing them in the back. Then with another glare he was shepherded into the back of the car and they were off and, well here he is.

He steps out the shower and dries himself off with towels that seem to be made from carboard, cursing himself for not packing his ones from his flat. He picks out some dry clothes and makes his way downstairs to reception.

“Do you have towels?”

“Are there not any in your room?”

“If you mean the two sheets of sandpaper that seem to be lying on my bed then yes there are. But I cannot use them.”

“Why not?” “Why not? Did you not hear me say sandpaper?”

“Those towels are perfectly fine”

“If you don’t value your skin then I suppose so.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“My towels?”

“You’ve got your towels.”

“Are you always this rude?”

“Only to people who deserve it.”

“And what I have I done to deserve it? I am in an extremely stressful situation right now, and all I want to do is take a bath, preferably with a toaster, and forget that this whole thing is happening ok?”

Yennefer stares at him, and he prays that she can’t see the desperation that is almost certainly plastered across his entire face.

“Fine, I think I have some new towels in the back. Give me a minute,” she says whilst moving towards what he guesses is the back “I’m only doing this so that you’ll leave me alone.”

She pauses at the door and turns to him, “And because you called me rude. I take that as a compliment.” And with that she’s gone.

Jaskier turns and takes another look at the room he now finds himself in, and what he now realises, with sinking heart, is going to be his new home for a while. It’s a fairly plain room, blank white walls with a few cracks running through the old plaster. There are old beams running along the ceiling and there’s a nice stone fireplace in the corner and on any other day he probably would go so far as to call it nice – a sort of country chic right out of a cute rom-com. But right now the sight of it just makes him angrier.

He is snapped out of his reverie by towels being shoved into his face.

“Here.”

Jaskier takes them and runs his fingers over them. They are still nothing compared to the lovely Egyptian cotton towels that are sitting back in his flat, but they’re better than what he had. They’ll have to do. Standing up from his chair, he suddenly realises how hungry he is.

“Is there somewhere I can get something to eat?”

“There’s a café across the road that’s open all day. There’s the pub as well if you consider an ancient packet of crisps as food.”

“Café it is then.”

read the rest on AO3!

#the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #geralt #yennefer #ciri #triss #my fic #my writing

14 notes · View notes

mhdiaries · 4 years ago

Photo

Freak Du Chic Gooliope Jellington Diary

5, April

“Family Night” at Freak du Chic is always a little bittersweet for me. On the one claw it’s a joy to sometimes see three or four generations of a family sitting together and enjoying the show, but on the other I know that it is something I will probably never experience. Of course, I never say anything to any of the other performers because I know it would hurt their feelings. In fact, just tonight I heard Jitterwing say to one of the customers, “Oh, that’s Gooliope. She’s the Ringmaster’s daughter, but every monster on the midway claims her as their own.” When I heard that it made me feel I was being ungrateful for the unlife I have, but when the show closed and everything was quiet and still, I came back to my tent and opened my trunk. There, inside the glass jar that was my first “crib” is a well-worn note. I always expect it to say something different, to mysteriously change and tell me something it didn’t before, but it never does. On one side is typed:

Experiment 816 Batch 8708

And on the other side is:

To Whom It May Concern: A cold, sterile world is no place to raise a little goo. I can give her everything, except a community where the only thing about her that will ever be measured is the size of her heart. I know that you can give her the unlife I cannot. Sincerely, R.S.

One day maybe I will find R.S., or maybe R.S. will come and find me. Until then then note goes back into the jar, the jar goes back in the trunk, and I will try to go to sleep, for tomorrow everything must be broken down and packed to move. Then it’s on to the next location with my family.

9, April

I have heard that when unlife gets creepy crazy, some monsters threaten to “run away and join the circus.” I think if they knew what unlife in the circus was really like they would threaten to “run away and join a team of dragon dentists” or something equally eventful. I guess I don’t blame them, though; the Freak du Chic really is quite magical when there are daring acts under the big top and the midway is hopping; when the cadence calls of the pitch monsters ring and the deadlicious smells of scarnival treats rill the air. Then there’s the excitement of travel. Moving from town to town, seeing new scenery and constantly meeting new monsters does have an adventurous mystique about it. But... it takes hours and hours of practice to make those daring acts look flawless, and our audiences never see the bumps, bruises and sprains that come before the perfection. Yes, scarnival food is indeed clawesome, but there are only so many fried cheese stuffed pies on a stick you can eat before all you really want is an apple. Traveling can be exciting, if you can actually stay awake long enough to see the scenery between stops. I mean, after we’ve finished packing tents and wagons and rides and concessions, and everything else that makes the Freak du Chic what is is, being able to sleep is a real treat. In fact, I think I’ll treat myself now before we get to the next location and the magic and adventure start all over again.

12, April

Today the show was “dark,” so some of the crew went into the local town to get some supplies. They asked me if I wanted to go, but I said I had homework to catch up on so I couldn’t. When I was just a little goo I loved making those trips into town, but I wasn’t very little for very long, and now that I’m 15 feet 2 inches tall it’s impossible to be inconspicuous. It was scary sweet of them to ask, but I really never feel comfortable away from the scarnival. I guess I don’t mind so much when monsters stare at me during the shows because that’s part of the reason they come to Freak du Chic. Here, I’m a performer; out there I’m an oddity.

18, April

Today is my birthday and no one acknowledged it. I spent the whole day trying to convince myself that it was okay that no one remembered, but I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. I just kept thinking that somebody would SAY SOMETHING, and when no one did I went back to my tent and threw myself a pity party. It was a good one, too, complete with “no one loves me” and “who needs a stupid 16th birthday anyway?” I was even getting ready to unwrap “if they don’t appreciate me here I’ll just go find someplace where they do” when the FDC emergency siren went off. It didn’t take me long to forget about myself, because that alarm is only sounded when every monster’s help is needed. I ran as fast as I could to the place where we were all supposed to gather in an emergency, but when I got there no one else was around. Then the lights went out and I was like, “What’s going on?” That’s when I noticed candles coming towards me through the darkness. The candles, of course, were on a ginormous birthday cake. As it got closer I could see that Dad and Mom were carrying the cake, and behind them came everyone else, and they began to sing “Happy Birthday.” I was so surprised that I almost started crying. Dad and Mom said, “You didn’t think we forgot your birthday, did you?” I had to admit maybe just a little bit. I got some scary cool presents, too! The scarousel monster gave me a killer pair of shoes with horses for heels and a callope hair comb. The tent monster and seamstress used canvas and sillk to create a beautiful dress and epaulettes just my size. The wagon monster and blacksmith gave me earrings made from wheels. The clowns got me two ginormous jars of my favorite gummy candy. Actually, only one of the jars had candy; the other was a trick jar that shot out spring-loaded bats. Clowns. Finally, Dad and Mom gave me a necklace with an 816 pendant. Then I really did choke up. They are the best parents any goo ever had, and I’m so grateful to be a part of this family. It was the BEAST. BIRTHDAY. EVER.

1, May

Dad has a big map of the wall of his ringmaster’s trailer. He uses different colored pins to show where we’re going, where we’ve been, and even a color for places on his “casket list.” This year he was able to change one of those out for a “place we’re going” pin. The place is Monster High. Dad said he’d always wanted to take the show there, but the schedule could never be worked out. This year one of the towns where we usually play canceled because a giant sinkhole opened up under their scare grounds, so now we’re going to Monster High! Dad says we’ll be there for two weeks, and he thinks that we should make enough money to repair and upgrade a lot of our equipment during the off-season. I really hope that it turns out like he hopes because I know he’s been worried lately, although he would never admit it.

10, May

When it comes to working around here, there really can’t be any dead weight; because if one monster doesn’t do their job it means someone else has to work twice as hard to pick up the slack. That’s never been a problem with our crew. In fact, most of the time whenever someone finishes the work they’re supposed to do, they go and find someone else to help. So when monsters started coming down with the boo flu we all just did what was natural. Even so, we were down to a skeleton crew when we put up the tents this morning. After that they all pretty much crashed. This is the first time we’ll be performing at Monster High and it’s a big show for us, especially since it’s the last one before we take a break for the year. I guess I should be thankful I was born in a lab, because I never get sick and I’ve been able to help take care of everyone. Only... I’m starting to worry that without some help the show might not groan on. So I’ve made up my mind that in the morning I am going to go find some help. The very thought of it makes my entire body feel wobbly, but there are monsters that I love who are counting on me and I will not let my family down.

#monster high #monster high diary #freak du chic #gooliope jellington

122 notes · View notes

johnny-and-dora · 4 years ago

Text

kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dancefloor

46. “i caught the bouquet” requested by the loml sara @macperalta!!! used a harry styles lyric just for you bb 💐💕

read on ao3 -

Jake wouldn’t call himself a domestic god, per-say.

He supposes that his best efforts to haphazardly fold laundry qualify him for at least a bronze in the boyfriend category, although he anxiously suspects he’s somehow done it wrong. The silverware that he’s laid out all fancy and the pizza he’s shoved in the oven in anticipation of Amy’s arrival should score him some hefty bonus points, though. And the fact that he even attempted to vacuum earlier means he must be eligible for some sort of domesticity award at least.

(The celebratory domestic bagel he ate afterwards may have resulted in him getting crumbs all over the carpet again, but it’s the thought that really counts.)

So maybe he’s not quite god-level yet – really, he’s only doing the bare minimum of what’s expected of a functioning adult/good boyfriend/super sexy roommate. But he’s kept their apartment relatively clean in Amy’s two-day absence. He even remembered to use coasters and where she keeps the fabric softener. In short, he is the champion of total domestic bliss.

Jake grins as he pours two glasses of red wine and fist pumps at not spilling a drop on Amy’s favourite fancy tablecloth, knowing that she’ll be home in a matter of minutes and find a nice, non-takeout candlelit dinner waiting for her. He steps back to admire his handiwork – there’s even a full salad bowl, which he has no intention of eating from – and smiles, content. He’s totally marriage material.

As if on cue, he hears Amy’s key in the lock. She barely has time to kick off her shoes before he’s practically tackling her, revelling in the sweet sound and feel of her laugh buzzing against her lips as she melts into his embrace.

“Hey, babe.” She says sweetly, a knowing and loving glint in her eye. “Did you miss me?”

“Maybe a little.” Amy rolls her eyes, but then her gaze leaves his and lands on their dining room table, just visible over his shoulder. When they unfurl from each other her expression has gone all soft and he can’t help but feel some scattered embers of pride start to flicker and spark, putting his nerves at ease.

(After all this time, he still worries about being too much sometimes – but any fear or doubt usually crumbles when he looks to her and realises he must be doing something right.)

“What’s all this?”

“Dinner.” He says, a little shy, rocking back and forwards on his heels slightly. “I thought you deserved something nice after the drive from Jersey.”

“Oh, this is perfect.” She leans up on the balls of her feet to kiss him – for all his love of her sensible work boots and her strappy heels, he’d hide them all to spend more time savouring their height difference. “Thank you, Jake.”

“It’s no big deal. How was the wedding?” He asks as they move to the kitchen and he hands her a glass of wine. She hums in content, leaning back against the counter.

“It was beautiful. Almost beautiful enough to distract me from my entire extended family asking probing questions about my love life.” She teases, reaching out to playfully poke his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Jake says gingerly, feeling a sting of disappointment at the thought of leaving her at the latest Santiago wedding without a date. He had actually really been looking forward to meeting the rest of Amy’s brothers and a whole swarm of other relatives, but an ill-timed new lead and a crucial stakeout had put a wrench in that plan at the last minute.

“It’s not your fault, babe. You know I would have cancelled if it had been me. Besides, I showed them some cute pictures of us and that shut them up. My aunt thinks you’re adorable.”

“Oh, well I’ll have to give her a call.”

“I also…might have…caught the bouquet.” She says sheepishly, her gaze hooded and apprehensive. It takes a second for his brain to hurry up and realise what that means, and his heart does a funny thing where it trips up on itself. Sort of like mentally slipping on a banana peel.

The whole weird who’s getting married next thing. Which isn’t a problem, actually – if anything it works in his favour, because the plan absolutely is for them to get married. He would propose here and now if he’d found the right ring yet (Gina has been unsurprisingly unhelpful in all four of the jewellery places they’ve visited so far) and if he didn’t have the beginnings of a really dope proposal plan that he really wants to pull off.

“Oh, really?” He has this irrational fear that his voice might have jumped up two octaves, but thankfully it remains even enough, yet still making it very clear that he’s trying to remain as casual as possible.

“Yep. In front of my entire extended family. Who then proceeded to give me embarrassing knowing looks for the rest of the evening.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Oh, it was the best.”

They share a grin, but it’s still hanging in the air. Amy’s still looking at him in that shy, uncertain way, as if she doesn’t already know that she’s the love of his life, and that absolutely won’t do at all.

“Well, you know what that means.”

“…I do?”

“Yep. You better get the binder started now.” His heart is in his mouth as he’s saying it, because it’s not a proposal but it’s a hey I’d love to get married someday soon and that’s only slightly less terrifying. He feels like he should be holding some flowers at least, or else anything else but a dishcloth.

But he’s smiling, smiling, and then her eyes get this glowing shiny quality as she smiles back that just really makes Jake want to kiss her, so he does. And it doesn’t feel scary at all, giving some voice to the visions he’s had of Amy with a ring on her finger he’s been having since late April.

It just makes him feel even more like the champion of domestic bliss when he’s crowding her up against the kitchen island he thoroughly dusted earlier and he knows he wants this forever.

“I may or may not have possibly made some vague wedding-related outlines on the flight home.”

“That’s so hot.”

The oven timer goes off before they can get into any specifics, which is good because the whole of Brooklyn can probably hear Amy’s stomach growling, and because he’s about two seconds away from keeling over with joy if they talk about their hypothetical wedding any longer.

It’s not like he ever really doubted that the feeling wasn’t mutual. But knowing that Amy’s thought about it, that she has a vague outline somewhere just as he has a few plans and ideas hastily typed at 3am on his phone, knowing that she wants to be married to him someday – it’s a warmth, a security, a rare kind of love that he can’t quite put into words.

It doesn’t come up again for the rest of the evening. Instead, they clink their wine glasses together and dance while they do the dishes and make-out on the couch until it’s time for bed. Amy laughs while Jake regales tales of Charles bringing an actual portable cheeseboard to their stakeout, and Jake listens as she fills him in on the latest scandalous Santiago family gossip, gasping in the all the right places.

It’s not until he’s staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to crash over him that he even remembers the subject coming up – quietly, tentatively, he listens out in the quiet, still darkness of their bedroom to see if Amy’s still awake.

“Hey, Ames?”

“Mmm?”

“You…you know that I’m all in, right? Like this is it, for me. You and me. I mean you probably already knew that, I just wanted to double-check because of what we talked about before, and I thought-“

“I do know.” She says softly, a soothing balm to his thundering heart. “And you should know that it’s the same for me.”

“Cool.” He says, a little breathless, easily overwhelmed. “I love you. And hey, I promise not to miss our wedding for a stupid stakeout with Charles and his obscure cheeses.”

“That’s all I ask.” She says mock-seriously, shifting closer to him as he laughs and knows that he is truly home whenever she is beside him.

That night, Jake falls asleep with a smile on his face, content with knowing that he may not be a domestic god, but Amy still wants to marry him, so that’s got to count for something.

He’s always valued her opinion more than anyone else’s anyway.

#b99 #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #brooklyn 99 #happy anniversary to these nerds #god i love them #shut up sian #my writing

151 notes · View notes