#jim street x sibling!reader

[achilles-rage]

Off Limits

summary: you're street's foster sister and a hacker for swat, and rocker can't keep his eyes off you. one night a case you helped rocker with leads you into danger, landing you in the hospital. rocker's protectiveness of you has street a little confused, and it takes a while before street finally realizes that your feelings for each other are real, leading to confessed feelings.

word count: 6.7k

request- @melodyflowersblog: What about a swat fic with rocker X fem reader, where is street or Chris sister who is always at their work, either she is like a hacker or some other reason, and her and rocker get closer as time goes on and no one knows until there is like a shooting and reader gets hurt and he gets protective of her even when she's cleared from hospital, and everyone can see the love in his eyes or something like that

A/N: i decided to make the reader street's foster sibling so it could be race inclusive! pls let me know if i wrote anything that was not race inclusive! and i don’t know anything about computers so if anything i wrote doesn’t make sense just close your eyes<3 and also

plot hole!!! big dumb idiot alert!!! apartments have those doors at the front you need a key to get into!! get over it!!!! and street leaves the apartment after helping rocker drop reader off!!! and he has no car!!! just pretend he took an uber!!!! that's all, enjoy<3

warnings: reader's house is broken into and she's held a gunpoint, making out at the end lolz, flirty rocker<3, no use of y/n, plus size!reader fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Miss me, sweetheart?” you hear Rocker say as he walks into your office, winking as you turn to look at him, forcing you to fight back a smile.

After your brother Street helped you get a job at SWAT, everyone was quick to welcome you with open arms, but Rocker had seemed to take a special interest in you. You, Street, and Nate were always close growing up, living in the same foster home, with them coming to your rescue when the other kids teased or picked on you. With the trouble Jim and Nate had gotten into as kids, you took it upon yourself to help them out of their predicaments, learning that knowing how to hack let you erase security footage, and blackmail some bad people they had gotten themselves tied up with.

You were a breath of fresh air to Rocker at SWAT, your introverted personality a stark contrast to the officers he worked with. You were brilliant, and you had an eye for figuring out things that the other tech assistants couldn’t. And your pretty face and gorgeous, soft body definitely had nothing to do with his infatuation.

“What do you need, Rocker?” you ask softly, face growing hot as you turn back to your computer, rolling your eyes. You feel him lean over your shoulder, hand on the back of your chair, looking at the words and numbers on your screen, pretending to know what the hell he was looking at.

“Can’t I visit my favourite girl without needing something? Maybe I’m just here to see your pretty face,” he teases, looking down at you, a smirk on his face.

Rocker had been flirting with you for months, loving the way you react to his words, his looks. He’s used to flirting with people sometimes to get what he wants, but with you, he seems to go the extra mile, not stopping until he leaves you a flustered and stuttering mess. He loves the way you look down, muttering something about getting back to work, or how you look up at him with those doe eyes, breath catching in your throat. 

“Shut up,” you whisper, fingers slightly shaking, hovering over your keyboard. “What do you need?” you ask again, biting your lip as you stare at the screen, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips as you feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“We found out who the head of that cartel the squad is working on is, but he’s up in the air. Is there any way you can work your magic and find anything else on him? I’m desperate here, princess.” he explains, and you can’t ignore the way his voice grows more stressed as he nears the end of his sentence.

You nod, smiling softly, as your fingers begin to move, eyes combing over credit card uses and security cam footage of various cartel members, hoping to find something to set him on the right track. 

He watches you work, eyes gazing down from your screen to you. The way your hair looks perfectly styled, how he can see a glimpse of your chest from the angle he was standing over you, the softness of your thighs spread across your chair. He had to look away, clearing his throat quietly as his mind began being overrun by your thick thighs and how they would feel wrapped around him.

“Why didn’t you ask Jacobs to do this? He knows more about your case than I do.” you ask softly as you work, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his features. You’re glad he was here regardless, happy to spend a few minutes with him, despite the hammering of your heart in your chest and the way your breath quickened. You may or may not have a small crush on him, not that it could ever happen. Him and Jim may be friendly now, but you can tell that they butt heads every now and then, and with how protective Jim is of you, you know better than to ever do anything about your silly little work crush. You’re too shy, anyway. No matter how giddy his advances make you, you know nothing will ever come of this.

“Yeah, but he’s not near as fun to talk to as you. And you’re good, sweetheart. I have a feeling you may find something that he’s too stupid to catch onto.” he teases softly, looking down at you, smirking, his eyes not leaving you as he studied your frame.

You shake your head, fighting back a smile as you continue to work, trying to ignore the way he leaned in closer to you. After a few minutes, you make a small noise of victory, turning to look up at him, smiling.

“1435 West Park Avenue, room 219.” you whisper, watching his eyebrows furrow. “His right hand man. He has two aliases, but nothing was coming up for either of them, so I put the first name of one with the last name of the other. It’s being used at a shitty motel downtown, and it’s being paid for by a credit card that was just reported stolen. The credit card payment said he checked in the day the cartel leader went MIA. I hacked into the motel’s security footage. That’s him, right?” you ask, excitement flooding your body as Rocker looks at the slightly blurry security footage, a smile breaking out onto his face. He leans down, kissing the top of your head, laughing softly.

“That’s my girl. You’re a genius, sweetheart.” he says happily, earning a giggle from you as you shake your head.

“It was a lucky guess,” you whisper, biting the inside of your lip as you break eye contact, face getting hot.

“And yet, Jacobs didn’t find it, you did. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re doing this so that I’ll come to you more often. Especially when you’re wearing clothes you know will drive me crazy,” he teases, smirking, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, eyes glancing down to your cleavage peeking out of your low-cut shirt.

You look back up at him with wide eyes, scoffing as you fight back a smile. “I’m not doing anything,” you protest, trying not to look away as his intense gaze meets yours.

As Rocker is about to respond, your brother walks in, looking at the lack of space between the two of you. How Rocker was standing in front of your chair, arms crossed, smirking down at you.

“What’s going on in here?” Street asks, eyebrow raised, leaning on the doorframe. You look up at him, smiling softly, shaking your head as you try to collect your thoughts.

“Nothing. Just helping Rocker with his case. What’s up?” you explain, standing up from your chair as Rocker backs up. Rocker shoots you a wink before turning, walking out the door, nodding to Street as he walks past him.

“Thanks again, sweetheart!” Rocker shouts as he steps into the hall, Street’s eyes narrowing as his eyes follow Rocker down the hall.

“What the hell was that?” Street whispers as he turns back to you, walking into your office, arms crossed over his chest.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. He just likes getting a rise out of you, you know that.” you tell Street, letting out a soft exhale, trying to calm your nerves. Why did it feel like you’ve been caught doing something wrong? Other than the less than pure thoughts running through your head, nothing had actually happened.

“Yeah, whatever. He’s a flirt. Just…don’t get attached or anything, okay? I know you. You fall for people too fast. Remember that guy we met at the beach when we were 15? You wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks,” he teases, laughing softly.

“Alright, we were 15, and he promised he’d take me to that concert I wanted to go to that you and Nate refused to go with me to,” you argue, rolling your eyes, smiling softly at the memory. This earns a snort from Street as he shrugs, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying. Okay?” he says, eyes softer as he grabs your shoulders, ducking his head slightly to meet your gaze.

You nod, muttering a quiet ‘okay’ as you look up at him, giving him a small smile. He smiles back, patting your shoulder before letting you go, backing up towards the door. 

“Team’s going out for drinks tonight, if you wanna come? They’d love to have you there,” he tells you.

“Nah, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just gonna head home, have a night in,” you tell him, sitting back down at your desk, waving him off. “Now get back to work before Hondo fires you. Again.” you tease, turning your chair around to face your computer.

You hear him laugh as he walks away, letting you get back to work. As you continue doing some digging for various cases SWAT has open, your mind trails off to Rocker. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. The biggest reason he makes you so flustered is the way his eyes scan you whenever he sees you. You were a little surprised at first, noticing how his eyes fell from your chest to your plush stomach, your thick thighs. Your tits, you were used to, but you could feel your body grow hot as he examined all of you in a way you weren’t used to. He was good with his words too. Always knowing what to say to make you stutter, your palms growing sweaty as your eyes trailed down to the way his arms flex in his tight uniform shirts. 

You look at the bottom corner of your screen after a couple more hours of work, noticing the time as your brain returns to the task at hand, your thoughts still foggy with thoughts of Rocker and his stupid attractive face. You stand up, grabbing your purse and walk out of your office, making your way to your car to drive home. You say a quick goodbye to everyone as you walk out to your car, noticing 50 squad pulling into the parking lot, returning from the motel you sent them to earlier.

“You get him?” you call across the parking lot as Rocker steps out of the armored truck.

He turns to you, a smile breaking out on his face as his eyes meet yours.

“All thanks to you, sweetheart!” He yells back, winking at you.

You laugh softly, smiling to yourself as you reach your car, eyes looking down as you shake your head.

It’s almost 11PM when you hear a crash coming from your living room. You sit up quickly in bed, breath catching in your throat as you put a hand over your mouth, listening to the quiet that envelopes you.

You wait a moment before you hear a quiet voice in your hallway, whispering to someone, then you hear two sets of footsteps slowly getting closer to your room. Your eyes widen, and you quickly get out of bed, silently making your way to your doorway, masked by the darkness of your room.

You tense as you see one of the men you were looking into earlier; one of the lower level members of the cartel you were helping Rocker’s team with. You tiptoe to your closet quietly, grabbing your phone on the way, dialing the number of the first person you thought of as you close your closet door, hiding yourself behind some of your clothes.

“It’s late, sweetheart. I wonder what you could be calling me for…” Rocker teases softly once he answers your call, a smirk on his face.

“Rocker,” you whisper, almost inaudible, tears welling up in your eyes as the gravity of your situation suddenly becomes quite clear.

He tenses as he hears the fear in your voice, standing up from his spot on the couch, jaw clenched.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” he whispers, grabbing his keys and gun, jogging out to his truck, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he unlocks the door, climbing in.

“The cartel, they’re in my apartment.” you whisper, putting a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing as you hear one pair of footsteps growing closer to your room. 

“I’m on my way. Where are you exactly? How many of them are there? Do you have a weapon?” he asks, his voice hard, as he starts to drive, weaving through traffic as he drives well above the speed limit, trying not to imagine what they might do to you if they find you.

“In my closet. There’s two of them. I don’t have anything.” you whisper, shrinking further back into your closet, mind racing to figure out how and why they found you.

Suddenly, it hits you. You didn’t log out of your computer when you left work. You had a program open, the same one you used to find the cartel leader, trying to track down some of the higher ups in the cartel that got away, when you noticed it was time for you to go home. While that program is good, it’s dangerous, and with the right training, the people you’re trying to find can find you as well. Leaving it open meant they had more time to track you down, finding your name, your job, and your address. 

“Stay on the phone with me, baby. I’ll be there in 2 minutes. If they find you and try to take you out of your apartment, I need you to fight. I’ll get to you, I promise. Just buy me some time.” he explains, listening to your ragged breathing over the phone, picturing the fear etched onto your face as you hide in your closet.

All of a sudden, he hears your closet door open and a stifled scream as your phone falls to the floor. The two men grab you, pulling you out of the closet as one slaps a hand over your mouth.

“Got you, you stupid bitch. You thought you could get our boss arrested and we wouldn’t track you down?” Rocker hears over the phone, his whole body tensing as he pulls into your apartment complex’s parking lot. He throws it in park, not bothering to kill the engine as he runs inside, gun in hand.

You thrash in their grip, trying to break free as one holds onto you, the other aiming a gun at your head.

“Struggling is pointless, darling. We’ve got a job to do. Now, you’re gonna tell us everything you found out about us, and we might just let you live.” the one with the gun spits at you, eyes never leaving yours as he smirks. He waves the gun at the man holding you, signaling him to take his hand away from your mouth.

“You don’t have to do this. I didn’t find anything. Just where your boss was hiding, and he was caught. That’s all I know, I swear.” you lie, trying not to look at the door. They didn’t seem to notice your phone before you dropped it, so you hoped if you didn’t do anything to make it look like you were waiting for someone to show up, Rocker might have the element of surprise on his side. 

“Bullshit. You’re gonna tell us, or we’re gonna make sure that your death is extra long, and extra painful. Did you see the way we torture people while doing your research? It’s not something you want,” the man with the gun says angrily, the sound of him cocking the gun ringing in your ears, making you flinch.

As you’re about to reply, you hear two gunshots. You shut your eyes tightly, a high pitched noise escaping your throat. Rocker steps into the room after taking down the man with the gun, gun raised at the man still holding onto you tightly, a new sense of urgency in him as he notices the red spot growing on your shirt. You open your eyes once you feel the sharp pain in your side, knees growing weak at the feeling. You make eye contact with Rocker as he stands in front of you, his eyes quickly looking down as he bends to grab the man’s gun and puts it in his waistband, keeping his own pointed at the man behind you. 

“Duck,” he says to you quickly, noticing the man’s grip on you faltering as the realization of what just happened crosses his face.

You drop to the floor quickly, hand moving to your side, trying to put pressure on the gunshot wound, flinching as you hear another gunshot, keeping your eyes to the ground. You hear the man behind you drop to the floor, and almost immediately after, you feel Rocker’s hands on you, forcing you to lay down on your back, grabbing your hands and forcing them to cover your wound. When the man with the gun went down, his finger was still on the trigger, sending a rogue bullet into your abdomen as he fell.

“Baby, where’s your phone?” he asks, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“Dropped it when they grabbed me,” you whisper, breath quickening as the searing pain in your side grows.

He quickly runs to your room, grabbing your phone, dialing 911 as he races back over to you, moving your hands gently before using his own hands to cover your wound, trying to slow the bleeding. You wince, crying out softly as he applies pressure, growing dizzy as he gives the 911 operator your address. 

“Stay with me, sweetheart, you gotta keep your eyes open, yeah?” he whispers to you as your vision gets blurry, your eyes blinking slowly, fighting to keep them open.

“Look at me, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes.” he says louder, hands still pressing your wound, watching as your eyes flutter closed, the sound of sirens getting closer.

“Come on, don’t do this to me. Open your eyes, baby,” is the last thing you hear, the pain subsiding as everything goes black.

You wake up to the sound of beeping, wincing softly as you open your eyes, blinded for a moment by the fluorescent lights shining brightly over you.

You hear a loud exhale from beside you, someone’s grip tightening on your hand as your vision comes into focus. You look over, seeing your brother sitting beside you in a hospital chair, a worried look on his face.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me, we didn’t know if you’d make it.” Street whispers, standing up to kiss your forehead softly. 

You look up at him, swallowing as you try to sit up, wincing louder.

“No, no, Stay there. You were shot. You have to rest. I’ll go get everyone, they’re all waiting in the lobby.” Street says, letting go of your hand and walking to the doorway, waving everyone in.

You look to the door as Chris, Hondo, Tan, Luca, Deacon, and Rocker walk in, looks of relief on their faces.

They all take their turns of saying how glad they were that you’re okay as you smile weakly at them, eyes glancing to Rocker as he makes his way over, jaw clenched and hands in his pockets, refusing to look you in the eyes. A look of sadness fills your eyes as you see him standing toward the back of the group, a hard look on his face as his eyes focus on where your wound is. You look back over at Chris as she tells you how glad she is that you’re okay, thanking her as you try to take your mind off of Rocker.

After a while, the team all look exhausted, and you tell them to go home and get some rest. They agree after much convincing and leave, while Street tells you that he’s staying whether you want him to or not. You laugh softly at his insistence, wincing as you feel a pain shoot up your spine, Rocker’s eyes immediately lock on yours, moving beside your bed as he glances down at where your gunshot wound was, before looking back up at your face, eyes softening.

You’re so caught up in Rocker’s presence that you don’t hear Street tell you that he’s going to grab some snacks, his sentence stopping short when he sees the way you and Rocker are looking at each other. He watches for a second before backing out of the room, letting you two have a moment, brows furrowed as he tries to figure out if the emotions he saw between you two were the product of his lack of sleep.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Rocker, turning your palm face up on the bed, moving it closer to him.

“Goddammit, sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me. Do you know what I’d do for you?” he says, sitting down in the chair Jim had pulled up to your bed, moving to cradle your hand between his own.

You let out a shaky breath at his words, chest feeling heavy as the weight of his words hit you. You’re unable to form words as you look up at him, the way he was looking at you expressing all the emotions he was feeling for you in this moment. The fear of possibly losing you. The adoration he felt for you. The guilt he felt for you being in this situation. He felt like it was his fault. He was the one that asked you to do some digging on the cartel.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you. I kept thinking about what I might walk into, what they could’ve done to you. I know this cartel. The things they would’ve done if I didn’t get there in time,” he trails off, head dropping as his eyes fill with tears.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching out to put your hand on top of the hand on top of yours, “I’m okay. You saved me. I’m right here.”

“You got shot, baby. Because of me.” he whispers looking back up at you, face red.

“I’m alive because of you. You saved me. I called you because I knew you’d save me.” you tell him, giving him a look that you hope conveys all the things you want to say to him, but are too scared to say.

He lets out a shaky breath, wiping away a tear that falls down his cheek as he nods.

“I’m never gonna let anything like this happen to you again,” he whispers. He leans down, kissing your hand softly before looking back up at you, holding eye contact.

After a moment you look down, face growing hot at his intense look. Leave it to Rocker to make you feel flustered even after being shot.

As you both sit in silence, your brother walks back in, stopping as he sees the way Rocker is staring at you, holding your hand in his.

Rocker quickly stands up, dropping your hand as he nods at Street, a hard expression making its way onto his face again.

“You got her?” Rocker asks Street, standing up straight as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Street nods, giving Rocker a ‘what the fuck’ look as Rocker starts walking towards the door.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?” Rocker says in a much softer voice, looking over his shoulder to you as he gets to the door.

You nod, smiling softly, watching him until he’s out of sight. You look back over at Street as he clears his throat, looking at you with a raised brow.

“What the fuck?” Street whisper-yells, sitting down on the chair beside your bed as you look at him sheepishly.

“What?” you ask, looking down at your hands, fidgeting with them.

“I was a little confused on why you called him and not me, other than him living closer to you. But now I see why,” he tells you, leaning back in the chair, putting his feet up on the bed.

You sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing, Jim, I swear. I was helping him with that cartel today. I thought he was the best one to call since he’s more familiar with them.” you explain, biting the inside of your lip nervously, hoping he doesn’t try to call your bluff. 

“Right,” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “I’m telling you, don’t get too attached, please. It’s his job, he did what he was trained to do.” he tells you, opening up the bag of chips he bought.

“Why do you hate him so much?” you ask, looking back over at him.

“I don’t hate him. I just know guys like him. Trust me, you don’t wanna date a cop.” he tells you, his focus going to the chips in his hand, offering the bag to you. You shake your head, sighing.

“You know guys like him; you don’t know him. He’s a good guy.” you argue softly. As much as you love your brother, he can be really overprotective of you. You’re generally very trusting, and a lot of the time, he feels the need to make sure you’re giving your trust to those who actually deserve it.

“I’m not saying he’s not a good guy, he’s just not good for you. He’s cocky, and arrogant, okay? I promise, the attraction will wear off soon.” he tells you as you roll your eyes.

“So, he’s like you?” you tease softly, not wanting to argue with him right now, still feeling weak.

“Exactly,” he teases back, shoving more chips into his mouth as you laugh softly, wincing. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll stay here with you tonight. Doctor says we can leave in the morning.” he tells you with his mouth full as you nod. You lay your head back on the pillow, sighing as you drift off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up to Street’s snores, looking over to see him in an awkward looking position on the chair. You sigh, rolling your eyes, groaning softly as his snores echo through the room. You look over at the table beside your bed, reaching for your phone once you notice it. As the screen lights up you see a text from Rocker.

Rocker: I cleaned up your apartment. It’s all ready for you when you get discharged. And I set up some blankets on the couch. I’m staying there until we catch the rest of the cartel members, and I don’t wanna hear anything from you about how I don’t have to. I’m not letting this happen again.

You smile softly as you read the text, replying a quick ‘okay’ before setting your phone down, knowing that arguing would be pointless. A few minutes later, Street wakes up, looking over at you and smiling softly, sleep still in his eyes.

“Morning. How are you feeling?” he asks, closing his eyes again, yawning loudly.

“It still hurts a little, but these pain meds are helping,” you joke, sitting up slowly. “When can we go?”

“I’ll go get the doctor. She said we can leave today. We’ll probably just have to fill out some forms or something.” he tells you, standing up, stretching.

You nod as he walks out the door, smiling again as you think about Rocker’s text. As quick as your smile appears, it disappears. He’s staying at your house. For God knows how long. While his protectiveness has your heart beating loudly in your chest, it could also very much be credited to the nervousness you feel from having him in such close quarters.

Later that day, Rocker pulls into your apartment’s parking lot before jogging around to the other side of his truck, opening your door for you and grabbing your arms to help you get out. Rocker told Street he would drive you back to your apartment, Street hesitantly agreeing because he knew driving you home on his motorcycle wasn’t really an option. You thank Rocker softly, feeling two arms wrap around your waist, one Rocker and one Street’s, both of them trying to help you walk inside. 

“I got shot in the side, my legs still work,” you tell them softly, rolling your eyes at their focused expressions.

“Yeah. You got shot. And you’re gonna accept our help for the next few weeks until you heal.” Rocker says seriously, careful of your wound as they lead you to your apartment.

They guide you to your couch, sitting you down softly before backing up, making sure you’re still okay.

“Okay…I guess I’ll go…” Street says, looking between you and Rocker, noticing that Rocker wasn’t moving, feet firmly planted in the middle of your living room.

“And Rocker?” he says, eyes narrowing as they meet each other’s gaze, finger pointed at his chest, “Don’t fuck my sister.” 

Your jaw drops at his words, face growing hot as you look between them. Rocker’s reaction is similar to yours for a moment, before it’s quickly replaced by a neutral expression.

“She just got out of the hospital, Street. I’m not that big of a douchebag,” he says sarcastically, glancing over at you to give you a wink.

“I’m serious,” Street says, eyeing you.

“It’s not gonna happen, Jim, I promise. Thank you. I love you. I’ll be fine.” you tell him, your arms making a shooing motion.

He puts his hands up in surrender, backing up towards the door. Telling you he’ll check up on you later before leaving. 

It’s a long few weeks as you slowly recover, Rocker refusing to leave your side, keeping his word and sleeping on your couch every night. He talked to Hicks, both agreeing that a uniformed officer would stay outside your door while Rocker was at work, making sure nothing further happened to you.

It was hard to be in your apartment at first. Many nights involved waking up with tears in your eyes, clutching your side as you relived what had happened. Each time you woke up, Rocker was already at your side, shirtless and hair messy, hearing the sounds you made in your sleep. He would softly brush the hair out of your face, whispering that he was there, that he would protect you. If you weren’t so scared, you would’ve noticed his bare chest, and the soft look in his eyes as he calmed you down.

One day he came back to your apartment from work, a large grin on his face as he walked over to you sitting on the couch, kissing your forehead.

“We got them,” he tells you, “All of them. They’re all in prison. You’re safe.” 

“I was already safe, Rocker. You made sure of that as soon as I came home.” you tell him, smiling.

You had gotten used to his company. The longer he was there the less flustered you got around him, his presence only really affecting you when he really laid on the charm.

“Yeah, but now you really don’t have to worry about them again.” He says happily, sitting down beside you on the couch, leaning back as he lets out a long sigh, finally feeling a weight off his shoulders.

“I guess that means you can go home.” you say softly after a few moments of silence, sadness in your eyes. You had liked him before this happened, but now, your feelings have increased tenfold. And he felt the same. He loved coming home to you, making sure that you were okay, he didn’t wanna give that up. You both really didn’t want him to leave, but it made no sense for him to stay, and you both knew that.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he says, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice as the realization hits him. “Hey, didn’t the doctor clear you for work? When are you going back?” he asks, trying to distract himself from the idea of leaving your apartment. 

“Mhm, I go back in 3 days. I’m excited to get back to it,” you tell him as he nods, eyes unfocused as he tries to burn the feeling of being in your apartment into his brain. Sitting on your couch with you, both comfortable in each other's presence.

“I’m gonna go make dinner. Pasta?” he asks after a few minutes pass, standing up and looking at you. You nod, smiling softly as he goes to the kitchen, sighing as you think of what it would be like to have him here all the time, not just when he feels the need to protect you from the cartel.

You walk into SWAT headquarters with a smile on your face, waving at your coworkers as you pass them, happy to finally be back. Making your way to your office, Street jogs up to you, lightly putting an arm around your shoulders, still wary of your wound, even though it has pretty much healed by now. 

“Glad you’re back, sis. I was gonna throw you a welcome back party, but Rocker said you’d kill me,” he teases, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“And he was right. I’m glad you didn’t,” you tell him, fighting back a smile as you both walk into your office, sitting down. 

As you and Street continue talking, Rocker walks in, a smile on his face once his eyes land on you.

“It’s good to see you back in here, sweetheart.” he says, winking, leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You need something, Rocker?” you tease, turning to look at him, giving him a smile.

“As much as I’d love your help on this new case, I’m not asking you for anything else. I’m not putting you at risk again.” he tells you seriously.

“I told you, it wasn’t your fault, it was my mistake. I’ll help with anything you need, you know that.” you tell him, matching his tone.

“Not taking any chances. Now I’ll just be in here to catch up, tell you how pretty you look,” he says, smirking as his eyes scan your soft frame.

Your face grows hot as you look down, fighting back a smile. 

“Get back to work, Rocker.” you say softly, turning your chair back to Street, hearing Rocker say a quick goodbye before walking to the locker room. 

“Maybe I was wrong about him,” Street whispers, looking over at you, smiling softly as he notices the way Rocker’s words are affecting you, “He’s a good guy for you.”

“Yeah?” you ask in disbelief, your eyes widen as he says this, lips parting in surprise.

“Yeah. He really cares about you. He stayed with you for weeks to make sure you were okay. I thought that maybe he was just flirting with you for fun, that he was just leading you on. But he clearly likes you,” he tells you sincerely, hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. “I give you my blessing.” he jokes, patting your shoulder gently.

Your laugh, raising a brow. “Your blessing? I didn’t realize this was the 1800s,” you tease.

“Yeah, but I know you were holding back because of what I said. I don’t think you should.” he tells you, standing up from the chair beside yours, slowly walking towards the door. “Tell him how you feel!” he says loudly, winking at you. He turns, walking away, leaving you alone in your office laughing softly.

You think for a moment, biting your lip as you try to figure out what to do. You can’t just tell him you like him. Sure, you let him flirt with you, and sometimes you muster up enough courage to say something flirty back, but you can’t tell him. The thought of him rejecting you was too much, and even if you knew he wanted you, you’d still be too scared to say the words.

Little did you know, Street had left your office and went to find Rocker, which led to a weird conversation about you and Rocker’s relationship, and Street’s “blessing.” 

You tense as you hear a knock on your door that night, slowly making your way to your door. You sigh in relief as you see Rocker through the peephole, opening the door and motioning him to come inside with a small smile on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he comes in, running a hand through his hair as he turns to face you. You shut the door, spinning around to look up at him, brows furrowing as you see what you swear is nervousness on his face.

“Do you want me?” he asks quickly. He had written a whole speech in his head on the drive over, but now that he was standing in front of you, that’s all he could say.

“What?” you whisper, not knowing what else to say, feeling your heartbeat quicken and breath catch in your throat.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long. Do you know how much it hurts to see you every day at work? Not able to do anything but stare at you? Flirt with you? But only when I needed something, because Street would skin me alive if I did anything more than that? God, you drive me crazy.” he tells you, stepping closer to you, your back almost touching your front door as you stand there, stunned.

“I-” you whisper, trailing off, letting out a shaky exhale as his gaze burns holes into you, feeling the heat radiating off of him

“Just say yes. Please,” he practically begs, hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to pull you into him and run his hands down your body.

“Yes,” you breathe out, immediately feeling his hands grip your hips, pulling you into a rough kiss as your hands move up to his chest.

You whine slightly as he pushes you backwards, your back hitting your front door, your arms quickly moving to wrap around his neck. One of his hands moves up to your jaw, tilting your head up more as he deepens the kiss, his hips slowly grinding into you, forcing a moan out of your mouth.

He smiles into the kiss as you moan, the hand holding your jaw trailing back down your body, moving both hands to the backs of your thighs.

“Jump,” he whispers against your mouth, bending down slightly.

“Don’t wanna crush you,” you whisper, pulling back from his lips, looking up at him, breathing heavily.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I’ll be fine.” he teases softly, a cocky expression on his face. Not wanting to wait for you to jump, he instead roughly grabs your thighs, pulling one of your legs up to rest on his hip before forcing your other foot off the ground, wrapping your other leg around his waist as you shift your weight.

You squeal softly, giggling as he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall again. He wastes no time in finding your lips again, pressing against you as his hands squeeze your thighs.

Your hands find his hair, weaving through them as you kiss him back, tightening your legs around his waist. He can’t get enough of you. The feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around his waist, how they feel in his hands. The way your chest and tummy feel against him. How your lips feel against his.

Suddenly, one of his hands travels up your back, pulling you off the wall as he turns, before it trails back down to the back of your thigh. 

You pull back from his lips as he moves, turning to look at where he’s going. You bite your lip as he makes his way to your bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this, sweetheart.” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss under your ear before throwing you on the bed.

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[xan-izme]

Dubble Life (ACTSV x Reader x Batfam) 3

A/n: I forgot to mention that the universe reader is in is earth-42. So, the Prowler is Miles, but he switches with Aaron here and there. and reader has the same last name as Miles.

Part 2, Part 4

Summary: Life with the Waynes so far was pretty good. Damian is still being a brat, so reader decides to be a good big sister. Someone from the past shows their face. In the need of readers help, for Spider-woman.

"I win!" Tim couldn't help but smirk in triumph. You stare at the 'Game over' on your screen. "Nah, nah. You gotta be cheating! Bro what is this!" This was the third time you have lost street fight with Tim.

"You two are acting like children." Damian spoke, watching two play video games for almost 2 hours. You rolled your eyes and gave Damian a look. "Cuz we are. You're like what, 9?" Tim chuckled as he packed his things.

"I am 12!" Damian argued. "Boy, like that makes any difference." Damian began to argue with you, you just stared down at him an announced you were getting a drink from the kitchen. You poured yourself a drink. Suddenly, your Spidey senses were warning you. You quickly turn around, just to see Damian. You scoffed.

It was funny how your Spidey senses always acted up when it came to Damian. You wondered if he wanted to hurt you so you couldn't take the Wayne throne. You turned back and continued to take a gulp from your cup. you paused for a moment before glancing to Damian you was eating a snack that Alfred made.

You thought that maybe the reason that you two haven't fully gotten along was due to both of you not even trying. So why not be the bigger person and try to be nice.

You slide yourself to the table Damian was at and set yourself in front of him. The boy frowns as he sees the smirk you had.

"What do you want, you bug."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. If only he really knew.

"Look, demon. I think we haven't really gotten the chance to bond as siblings." You leaned in with a smile. Damian looked at you with distaste. "Did father put you up to this? What are you planning Davies?"

"No, I ain't planning nothing. What's wrong with wanning to hang out with you?" You arched your brow and leaned back into your chair. Damian sighed "I don't have time for you. I have work to do. So, if you'll excuse me." Damian stood from his chair and walked away.

"Alright, if you change your mind my door is open!" Literally, you leave your door open sometimes. You just forget to close it. A habit to try and get rid of.

After a few days. Damian did come to your room.

"Oh, look who's here. Is there something my little demon needs? hugs, kisses? whatever sisterly love can provide?" You smirked as you watched him give you a look of disgust.

"I don't want your useless affection. Father wants us to go with him to a meeting. Please wear something that doesn't look like a Hippe made it." With that, Damian walked out. He paused and took a glance of a picture you had hung on the wall; it was of a woman. Your mother no doubt.

You sighed and got yourself ready. Wondering why the hell Bruce wanted you to come along.

"Hey Alfred. Do you know why Bruce needs me at the meeting today?" you asked. Alfred handed you a drink you requested for

"It is a meeting at the Wayne enterprise. You will mistily be there to observe the working environment and understand what the Wayne family is about." Alfred escorted you down and helped you fix your dress up, so it was perfect.

Bruce couldn't help but smile as he watched you come down those stairs in one of the dresses Dick picked for you.

Once you reached the bottom, Bruce took your hand into his "You look beautiful."

Your smiled. Your smile faltered.

Remembering the time, your mother had a date with some man you didn't approve of.

It was cold out. Your mother was going to be with a man named Jim Bolton. You were happy she was happy. But you didn't trust this Jim guy. You asked, practically begged your uncle Jeff to do a background run on the man.

Jim was married at the age of 22, awfully young. He got divorced and has two daughters 3-4 years younger than you. he also had 3 DUI's. Your mother has told you he doesn't drink anymore. But you still didn't like him.

You watched your mother walk down the stairs, with a red dress on, her hair fixed up. Shinny jewels on. She looked amazing. You already saw her as a goddess, this just added onto the beauty you already saw in her. You couldn't help but look at her fondly.

"Okay, remember to lock all the doors. Your uncle Aarons going to be here in an hour to watch you and- . . . what?" Your mother noticed that small smile on your face. You were being silent. Just staring at her.

You chuckled and held her hands to yours "Nothing. . . you just look beautiful."

You missed her. You've been trying to not think too much of her. Not think of the time you two spent. Not think of her hugs. Her smile, her voice.

You have night terrors of what happened that day. At times you stay awake, too scared to close your eyes. Afraid to see every wrong thing you've done as a daughter. You make it worse for yourself by calling her number, only to hear no answer.

The Wayne building was big. Many people in uniforms rushing too somewhere. Rushing to get work done, rushing to get home.

You walked beside Damian. He has been quite this whole time. You wonder what was making your dear little weirdo so silent.

You sat in one meeting with Bruce and Damian. It was rather boring. But you did think Bruce was cool with the way he took over. Bruce had two other meetings that suddenly came up. He was going to take the two of you downtown to look around, get something to eat. Go to the movies even.

"It's alright. Me and De- Damian can go and hang around with Alfred. Can get a little Sibling bonding out of it." You held yourself back from calling the boy, demon. Almost let it slip for a second there.

Bruce liked the sound of that. When he agreed, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Bruce isn't the best with affection, but you have been doing these little gestures, hugging, the kisses on the cheek. You would even do the occasional 'I love you's Bruce is starting to think that you might just be getting closer to him. So, he buys you more things.

Sometimes you decline so he just gives you money.

Damian rolled his eyes as you dragged him to the car. Alfred Started the car and you two were now going to be closer than ever. Well, you hope.

"So, little brother, you have anyone that has cached your interest?"

Damian frowns "That is none of your business."

"I see, you must really her then. Or him, I don't discriminate on who you love." You felt a smirk creep up when you catch a glimpse of the look on the young boy's face. It just felt so fun toying with him like this.

"I don't have time for something like dating. Stop talking, you're giving me a migraine." Damian did visibly look tired of you, which made it even more enjoyable for you.

The first few weeks that you came to the manor. This boy has been activating the need for violence. You can't just cuss him out and flip him off like you did with Miguel.

You can tell Damian ain't stupid. He's sharp and very aware of his surroundings. One slip up and your done for. So, you decide to do what you did best.

Be annoying.

Damian ignores you more when you act like that. On top of that, you loved the reactions you got out of him.

You and Damian went to a music shop where they had those old timey records that you liked.

"Why do you need these things. You know you can listen to music like this on your phone, right?" Damian watched as you picked up a record and held it like it was precious. The most fragile thing in the world.

". . .The neighborhood I used to live in. Was loud. I could hear screaming, gun shots. And other things I wasn't supposed to hear." You gently put the record down and continued to walk down the aisle. Damian and Alfred followed behind.

"One night, there was a gang fight right outside. I got so scared. I ran into her room crying. She played a song. . ." You found a song you haven't seen in a while and grabbed it.

"She held me. . . and said, 'son solo sondios, mi amor.' and told me to listen to the music. Let that be the only thing you hear." You let yourself laugh, remembering at how much you cried.

"So, that's what I do. Instead of listening to sounds that give me fear. I listen to these."

Damian watched you happily go through the records.

Damian scoffed to himself. It was the first time he saw a real smile from you. Of course, you smile a lot. But everything was fake. You were putting on a facade. He didn't like fake people.

Lying all the time. People who lie, can't be trusted. And you lie a lot. he knows. You just haven't been caught yet.

But that, what you just did. You were actually being real. You don't seem too bad. For a bug.

"What's this?" Damian spoke up when he picked up a record that had big words on it with a blue background.

"Oh, Boney M. I love these guys." You know Uncle Aaron had full blown collocations of the band.

You looked down to see the look of confusion on Damians face. "Oh, my Go- Come on man. You really don't know these guys?"

"No, should I? . . . My mother wasn't like yours." Damian mumbled. He sets down the record. You stared at him, then glanced to Alfred. You don't know much about Damian's mother. Just that she left him with Bruce.

Due to the boy's uptight attitude, you assume his mother was strict. And based on Alfreds expression, she probably wasn't the best.

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Let's go watch a movie. Yeah?"

The movie was a comedy, it was funny to you. Even more funny that Damian couldn't understand the jokes in the movie. Just watching you laugh so much just because he wasn't understanding the jokes, Damian couldn't help but laugh himself.

"I liked the ending." Damian spoke as you two exited out the theater. "What? for real? . . . why? The ending was kind of butt." You say, Wanting to know why Damian actually liked the ending.

"Well, the main character, Lisa. She found out she was being played by that Moses guy. Even if he caught feelings for her at one point, he didn't have those feelings when he went with that dare. When he kissed her at the prom as some stupid form of an apology, she just slapped him. She knew her worth."

You just stared in utter disbelief. You couldn't help but giggle, then burst out laughing.

"What? Why are you always laughing!'' Damian was scolding you as you continued to laugh and try to explain why you were laughing.

Suddenly you felt your Spidey senses go crazy. Thats when an explosion was heard.

"Oh shi-"

people started running in panic. "It's joker. . ." You heard Damian mumble. You quickly grab Damians hand and try to get to the car where Alfred was parked. Damian let you drag him. So many people were crowding up in a panic.

Damian looked up at you, then to the multiple explosions Joker was dropping. Hearing his damn laugh echo. He was putting his Job as Robin first. And let your hand go. You felt him let go. You quickly turn around. Panic sets in you. You called out his name as you tried to shove people away so you could get through.

"DAMIAN!" You tried to help a few people who got hurt by the falling rubble around them. But all you could think of was Damian. You kept calling the boy's phone. But it would go straight to voicemail. You cussed multiple times.

You went back into the theaters, calling out for Damian, asking anyone if they had seen a little boy come back in.

You didn't know he had left to fulfill his role as Robin.

You were currently in an alleyway. Trying to get to Damian on the phone, no answer. You try to contact Bruce, you lost service. You got frustrated and decided to just run around like an idiot to try and look for the boy.

But you accidentally ran into someone and knock them down.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry Ma'am. Are you alright?" You were quick to help the girl up.

"Thanks. . . you look good, Y/n."

You paused. Who was this? how did she know your name. Your look of confusion started to fade as you recognized the voice. You began to step back.

The girl fully showed her face. Starring you right in the eyes.

"Gwen?"

--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--

tag list: @lockofspades @redsakura101 @ruby-izo

[writings-of-a-demigod]

S.W.A.T:

Imagines:

Being deaf and working with S.W.A.T

Always arguing with Street and Luca finds it funny

Going skiing with Jim Street

Having a sibling relationship with Street

Luca being in with love you and you get hurt

Having a day off after a rough week

Working in a library and Street asks you out on a date

Jim Street bringing you a dog to look after you while he's at work

Telling the team the most random facts at the wrong time

The team getting you every thing iced because you're hot

One shots:

Wrong place, wrong time (Jim Street x wife! reader)

| going into labor while visiting Street at work and being stuck due to a lockdown.

[jayfortheday]

Hey! I liked your previous Vance x reader one shots so much and I thought I'll request something for him. Could you write a scenario where Vance somehow survives the kidnapping and him and reader reunite? Just lots of comfort and fluff, it'd be so heartwarming compared to what actually happened in canon 😭 Thank you and have a nice day!

Back To Me (Vance Hopper)

Pairing: Vance Hopper x GN!Reader (romantic or platonic)

Word count: 1112

Description: When Y/N hears the news of Finny being found alive, they expect to hear the worst about Vance. However, they find him quite injured, but alive

Tags: Blood, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, canon divergence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the TV displayed the news of Finny being found, you experienced two simultaneous emotions. The first being relief that the Grabber hadn’t claimed another victim, the second being dread, dread that the next news you would hear would be far worse.  You closely listened for Vance’s name, any indication of what may have happened. 

Soon enough, the news mentioned four bodies being found in an empty house across the street. Your lip started to tremble as you listened intensely for something else. 

“Among those bodies, we found one living boy, one Vance Hopper,” the news relayed. You froze, processing the information you had just been fed. Slowly but surely, a wave of relief washed over your body and into your soul. You listened for any more information.

“Currently, both boys are being held at the general hospital downtown.” Tears of unknown emotion began to roll down your face. That was all you needed to hear. You stood up from your seated position in front of the TV and practically ran out the door. You grabbed your Dad’s car keys off the hook and into the garage.

Technically, you weren’t supposed to drive by yourself yet, but you figured these were special circumstances. You jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. The car stalled for a second before roaring to life. You backed out of the driveway, into the road, and sped towards the hospital. 

Once you arrived and had found a place to park, you quickly turned off the car, hopped out, and ran into the front entrance. Surprisingly, there was no line at the reception desk. Just a small, older woman typing on the computer.

“Hi, I-,” the woman held up a finger to cut you off.

“One moment, dear,” she said, typing slightly faster before turning to you. “Alright, how can I help you?”

“I,” you inhaled deeply, catching breath you didn’t realize was gone. “I need to see Vance Hopper.” You gripped the granite desk in front of you tightly, your knuckles turning white. 

“I’m sorry, dear, but we’re only allowing familial visitation right now,” the woman responded, looking at you with slight pity. 

Your heart sank a little.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Please, I need to see him, it’s been so long, I need to. Please.” The woman sighed and looked to her left then her right. 

“Alright,” she said. She pulled a name tag off a sheet. “Name, please.”

“Uh, Y/N,” you said hurriedly. 

“Alright, Y/N,” the lady said, finishing her writing on the tag. “For today, you are a sibling. This should get you in there. The room should be labeled.” She pointed to a hallway on the right. You smiled widely at the woman, feeling the urge to cry again.

“Thank you, you don’t know how much this means,” you smiled at her, starting off into the hallway she had pointed to.

You looked closely at the name tags next to the doors, looking closely for Vance. Jim Sanders, Erica Hudgins, Skylar Moore, Vance Hopper. You paused in front of his door. You cautiously peered inside the small glass window on the wooden door. Inside, you saw no one, with the exception of a lump on the bed, hidden under sheets pulled up almost over his head. The door was cracked open slightly like someone had left recently and neglected to close it all the way.

Cautiously, you brought your hand up to the door and knocked.

“I told you I’m fine, leave me alone!” Vance shouted from inside, without turning to look at the door. You pushed the door open slightly so you could enter the room.

“Vance,” you said softly. Vance stiffened slightly at the sound of your voice before sitting up and turning to face the door. 

He looked strange, but not unfamiliar. He sat in a hospital gown that was a little too big and his hair was matted. 

“Y/N,” he said, a questioning tone in his voice, almost asking if it was really you. You smiled weakly and waved at him. You entered the room fully, closing the door softly behind you. You then walked forward and sat in the chair next to Vance’s bed. The entire time he looked at you with bewilderment in his eyes. 

You fidgeted with the fabric on your thighs before looking up to meet Vance’s gaze. In just his face alone, you could tell how injured he was. You wanted so bad to reach out to him, to touch his face or stroke his hair, but you didn’t want to hurt him. 

“How you doing, V,” you asked, crossing your arms on your chest to keep yourself from reaching out. “And don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine, I’m looking right at ya.”

Vance sighed and laughed a little. 

“I actually think I am fine right now, but only because I haven’t thought about it. I haven’t let myself think about what’s going on and then everything feels fine. Aside from the fact my whole body hurts.” he smiled at you and you smiled in return, powering through the concern you felt. 

You could feel yourself staring at Vance’s hand. You wanted so badly to reach out to him, to hold him, to make up for all the time you had lost. Vance must have noticed and held out his hand to you with a slight smile. You stared into his eyes, asking if it was really ok. He held his hand out a little further and you gladly took it. 

It felt so good to feel his hand in your again, to feel the heat radiating from his palms and the transition to cold in his fingers. You stroked the back of his palm with your thumb, taking him in again. Once again, you could feel tears trying to push their way through, to make your emotions known. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t stop them. The hot tears made their way down your face as you quickly averted your gaze from Vance. 

“Hey,” he said gently. “Look at me.” You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze again. As you looked closely, you could see his eyes start to glisten with the same tears. “I’m glad to see you too, Y/N.” You leaned forward and rest your head on Vance’s bed, the top of your head just barely touching his side. He freed his hand from yours and reached out to stroke your hair. 

“I’m gonna be fine,” Vance said, scratching your scalp softly. 

“Yeah?” You asked, looking into his eyes for any indication otherwise. You could find none. He smiled.

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Sorry that this one took me a little longer, life has been kinda busy lately, which is why I was so glad when I finally had time to sit down and write this :)

[frostandflamesfanfic]

The Last Three Years (Sherlock x Reader) - Prologue

Prologue: Year Zero

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x Watson!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: Reichenbach. Enough said.

Summary: Takes place from Pre-Reichenbach Fall (S02 E03) to The Final Problem (S04 E03) -- WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS! You had found the love of your life in the most unlikely companion: self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath, William Sherlock Scott Holmes. When he was taken from you much too soon by the clever Jim Moriarty, your whole life is flipped upside down. Old habits die hard, memories of past mistakes come flooding back. What happens when it all becomes too much? Will you ever find happiness again?

Note: This story will be as close to canon as I can make it, but it mainly focuses on the lives of fan-made characters, including the reader (John’s younger sibling) and Elora Holmes (Mycroft and Sherlock’s younger sister, Eurus’ elder). Following the typical trope, the reader and Elora live in 221A — the flat just below the infamous 221B.

“What are you doing?” 

“This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note.” 

There was a moment of hesitation.   

“It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?” 

“Sherlock, no. There has to be another way.” 

“Goodbye...darling.” 

“Sherlock!!” 

Your breath caught as you watched a figure make its way into your field of vision. It couldn’t end like this. After everything the two of you had been through, this was not how your story was supposed to end. Your heart sank to your feet as his body made contact with the concrete down below. Even though it was impossible from your location, you could practically hear the snap of his bones. 

He was gone. 

And there was nothing you could do about it. 

It was like an out-of-body experience. The scream of agony. You and John racing through the street to get to him.

“Sherlock!” you felt your voice cry out, as you neared the increasingly busy scene. People were gathering around the body- his body- taking pictures and murmuring amongst themselves.

“Is that Sherlock Holmes?” 

“He’s dead? Guess he couldn’t handle the pressure.” 

“Accepted he’s been exposed, the bugger.”  

“Riley did a bang-up job in her article. Really showed his true colours.” 

You couldn’t take it. “Shut up,” your voice spoke for you. “Shut up and step away! Let me through.” Pushing past people, you made your way to the body on the concrete, gripping his hand. 

It was cold. It was whiter than usual. It was very much lifeless. The blood pooled around him and streaked across his forehead. You lifted a trembling hand to wipe it clean and close his eyes. It would kill you to see them open. Usually, you would find yourself getting lost in the blue-ish green hues, but you couldn’t bear to take in the dead stare. 

Your brother trailed in shortly after. “Let me through,” he protested. “I’m a doctor and he’s my...he’s my friend.” You heard him clear his throat through tears. “He’s my friend. ”

You glanced up at the top of the building. You knew what awaited you up there, but you couldn’t let yourself think about it. Telling your best friend what happened would kill you even more than the sight currently in front of you. Gripping his hand tightly once again, you let the tears start to stream down your face. 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

The funeral procession was small. He didn’t have many friends, but those who mattered were there. They made the time to come not because they wanted to come, but because they knew they owed it to him. To many, Sherlock Holmes was a disagreeable man. His prickly exterior made it difficult for others to get close. Alone was what he had. It was what protected him. 

He may have been strange, but if someone took the time to get to know him, they would see the truth: as much as Sherlock Holmes himself would have hated to admit it, he cared for others. Sometimes, a little too much. You knew that. Hell, you even saw it firsthand. 

Every time you would even try to get close to him, he would just shut you down. His younger sister (your best friend) told you it was because he did care, but you could never shake the feeling that you weren’t enough. Try as you might, he would never see you as you saw him. There wasn’t a chance he would want what you did, anyway. “It wasn’t his area,” he’d say. Relationships were futile. Destined to be over within a week. One could easily find the proof in her brother’s past relationships. A new woman every week. You could never keep up.

That wasn’t what you wanted, though. You wanted something real; you wanted to be able to feel something. The last time you dared give your heart away, it came with unsatisfactory results that sent you packing. You were left to start over, picking up the shattered pieces while telling yourself it was okay. 

Your thoughts drifted to Sherlock’s sister, Elora. That day, you had found her lying unconscious on the rooftop, leg covered and sticky with blood. Apparently, she had gotten shot at some point during the showdown. Ever since, Elora had never been the same. She was more closed off. Other than what was necessary, she would barely talk to anyone. When she did, it was humming and talking to herself.

John had tried to convince you to take her to the hospital, but every time you refused. On the day of his death, you made a promise to look out for Elora. Come what may, you were going to be there to support her. Even if you didn’t know how to at first. 

As the casket was gently placed in the ground, you reached over to squeeze Elora’s hand. No response. 

In an attempt to hold it together, you cleared your throat and stared at the casket. It had a rich dark mahogany exterior with gold accents-- no doubt the best Mycroft could afford. You hadn’t heard much from the eldest brother, besides for the funeral arrangement. The headstone was rather simple. Just a name, no birthdate or death date. John had questioned it in the beginning, but it just felt right. 

Why give the world more information than they need? He had done his service to it, but how did they repay him? They took his name and raked it through the mud. Any tidbit of information sent the media into a spiral. Whatever they could get their hands on, they would use to tarnish the good he’s done. He didn’t deserve that. The world needed to see what you saw; the man behind the stiff and emotionless mask. 

How you wished the coffin would be empty. You wished it was just a dream; a dream where you could just wake up and he’d be there. He’d let out some quick-witted response about how your appearance indicated you would go to bed alone or end up eating chilli. You didn’t care how berating his comments were. As long as it meant he was there - alive- you’d be happy. You just missed him .

Heaving a sigh, you were about to move your hand when you felt the sensation of a faint squeeze. “He loved you,” Elora’s faint voice said. “He didn’t show it, but he did.”

Three little words. That’s all it took to break a person. You closed your eyes to slow the tears before they came rushing out. Elora could never know, neither could John. It was a secret you’d take to both of their graves...because you knew it wasn’t true. 

John had been on the phone for a while now. Every so often, he would remove the mobile from his ear and stare up at the rooftop. The rooftop where he was standing. “Alright, stop it,” he shouted. “Stop it now!” His eyes closed for a brief moment. There was a period of silence before he glanced in your direction. “I’m not the one you want to talk to, am I?” 

Another period of silence.  

A second later, John’s phone was thrust in front of you. You gave your brother a confused look, but when you didn’t receive a response, you shrugged and lifted it to your ear. “Hello?” 

“Darling, whatever happens next,” Sherlock’s voice said in your ear, “I want you to know it’ll be okay. Just keep your eyes fixed on me,” You could hear him attempting to keep it steady. “Please, will you do this for me?” 

“Do what?” you remember asking. “What’s going on, Sherlock?” 

“This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?” 

The mobile phone in your hand almost slipped to the ground. “Leave a no-note when?”  

“I-,” he started. You could have sworn you heard a sniffle. “I’m truly sorry. All of it was a lie. Every single thing I said since we’ve met has been a lie.”  

"What are you talking about?” 

“I’m a fake. Nothing but a fraud.” 

"Bullocks.” You clenched your hands into fists, angered by what you were hearing. “Don’t think I’ll believe any of that for one second. How else would you know about the debt?” You lowered your voice. “Or-or the scars?” 

“The internet. I used Elora’s computer to hack into your records. I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. I- I just wanted to impress you. Nobody could be that clever.” 

“No one except for you.” 

“It’s a trick, Watson,” his voice was breaking now. “ Just a magic trick.” 

You couldn’t take much more. The tears were already flowing and you didn’t bother stopping them. You couldn’t lose another person close to you. Not again. Even if he treated you like utter rubbish sometimes, you couldn’t lose him. “Sherlock, no. There has to be another way.” 

“Goodbye, darling.” 

“Sherlock!!” 

Just before the line disconnected, you detected a hesitation. He never hesitated. Then, out of nowhere, came the words you never once expected to hear. They were so faint, you still swear you only imagined them. Maybe you did. Maybe it was all in your head. However, you can still hear his deep voice whisper to you – sharing a secret only the two of you would know...  “I...I love you.” 

Then, he jumped...and left you alone all over again.

“W hat are you doing?” 

“This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note.” 

There was a moment of hesitation.   

“It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?” 

“Sherlock, no. There has to be another way.” 

“Goodbye...darling.” 

“Sherlock!!” 

Your breath caught as you watched a figure make its way into your field of vision. It couldn’t end like this. After everything the two of you had been through, this was not how your story was supposed to end. Your heart sank to your feet as his body made contact with the concrete down below. Even though it was impossible from your location, you could practically hear the snap of his bones. 

He was gone. 

And there was nothing you could do about it. 

It was like an out-of-body experience. The scream of agony. You and John racing through the street to get to him.

“Sherlock!” you felt your voice cry out, as you neared the increasingly busy scene. People were gathering around the body- his body- taking pictures and murmuring amongst themselves.

“Is that Sherlock Holmes?” 

“He’s dead? Guess he couldn’t handle the pressure.” 

“Accepted he’s been exposed, the bugger.”  

“Riley did a bang-up job in her article. Really showed his true colours.” 

You couldn’t take it. “Shut up,” your voice spoke for you. “Shut up and step away! Let me through.” Pushing past people, you made your way to the body on the concrete, gripping his hand. 

It was cold. It was whiter than usual. It was very much lifeless. The blood pooled around him and streaked across his forehead. You lifted a trembling hand to wipe it clean and close his eyes. It would kill you to see them open. Usually, you would find yourself getting lost in the blue-ish green hues, but you couldn’t bear to take in the dead stare. 

Your brother trailed in shortly after. “Let me through,” he protested. “I’m a doctor and he’s my...he’s my friend.” You heard him clear his throat through tears. “He’s my friend. ”

You glanced up at the top of the building. You knew what awaited you up there, but you couldn’t let yourself think about it. Telling your best friend what happened would kill you even more than the sight currently in front of you. Gripping his hand tightly once again, you let the tears start to stream down your face. 

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

The funeral procession was small. He didn’t have many friends, but those who mattered were there. They made the time to come not because they wanted to come, but because they knew they owed it to him. To many, Sherlock Holmes was a disagreeable man. His prickly exterior made it difficult for others to get close. Alone was what he had. It was what protected him. 

He may have been strange, but if someone took the time to get to know him, they would see the truth: as much as Sherlock Holmes himself would have hated to admit it, he cared for others. Sometimes, a little too much. You knew that. Hell, you even saw it firsthand. 

Every time you would even try to get close to him, he would just shut you down. His younger sister (your best friend) told you it was because he did care, but you could never shake the feeling that you weren’t enough. Try as you might, he would never see you as you saw him. There wasn’t a chance he would want what you did, anyway. “It wasn’t his area,” he’d say. Relationships were futile. Destined to be over within a week. One could easily find the proof in her brother’s past relationships. A new woman every week. You could never keep up.

That wasn’t what you wanted, though. You wanted something real; you wanted to be able to feel something. The last time you dared give your heart away, it came with unsatisfactory results that sent you packing. You were left to start over, picking up the shattered pieces while telling yourself it was okay. 

Your thoughts drifted to Sherlock’s sister, Elora. That day, you had found her lying unconscious on the rooftop, leg covered and sticky with blood. Apparently, she had gotten shot at some point during the showdown. Ever since, Elora had never been the same. She was more closed off. Other than what was necessary, she would barely talk to anyone. When she did, it was humming and talking to herself.

John had tried to convince you to take her to the hospital, but every time you refused. On the day of his death, you made a promise to look out for Elora. Come what may, you were going to be there to support her. Even if you didn’t know how to at first. 

As the casket was gently placed in the ground, you reached over to squeeze Elora’s hand. No response. 

In an attempt to hold it together, you cleared your throat and stared at the casket. It had a rich dark mahogany exterior with gold accents-- no doubt the best Mycroft could afford. You hadn’t heard much from the eldest brother, besides for the funeral arrangement. The headstone was rather simple. Just a name, no birthdate or death date. John had questioned it in the beginning, but it just felt right. 

Why give the world more information than they need? He had done his service to it, but how did they repay him? They took his name and raked it through the mud. Any tidbit of information sent the media into a spiral. Whatever they could get their hands on, they would use to tarnish the good he’s done. He didn’t deserve that. The world needed to see what you saw; the man behind the stiff and emotionless mask. 

How you wished the coffin would be empty. You wished it was just a dream; a dream where you could just wake up and he’d be there. He’d let out some quick-witted response about how your appearance indicated you would go to bed alone or end up eating chilli. You didn’t care how berating his comments were. As long as it meant he was there - alive- you’d be happy. You just missed him .

Heaving a sigh, you were about to move your hand when you felt the sensation of a faint squeeze. “He loved you,” Elora’s faint voice said. “He didn’t show it, but he did.”

Three little words. That’s all it took to break a person. You closed your eyes to slow the tears before they came rushing out. Elora could never know, neither could John. It was a secret you’d take to both of their graves...because you knew it wasn’t true. 

John had been on the phone for a while now. Every so often, he would remove the mobile from his ear and stare up at the rooftop. The rooftop where he was standing. “Alright, stop it,” he shouted. “Stop it now!” His eyes closed for a brief moment. There was a period of silence before he glanced in your direction. “I’m not the one you want to talk to, am I?” 

Another period of silence.  

A second later, John’s phone was thrust in front of you. You gave your brother a confused look, but when you didn’t receive a response, you shrugged and lifted it to your ear. “Hello?” 

“Darling, whatever happens next,” Sherlock’s voice said in your ear, “I want you to know it’ll be okay. Just keep your eyes fixed on me,” You could hear him attempting to keep it steady. “Please, will you do this for me?” 

“Do what?” you remember asking. “What’s going on, Sherlock?” 

“This phone call – it’s, er ... it’s my note. It’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note?” 

The mobile phone in your hand almost slipped to the ground. “Leave a no-note when?”  

“I-,” he started. You could have sworn you heard a sniffle. “I’m truly sorry. All of it was a lie. Every single thing I said since we’ve met has been a lie.”  

"What are you talking about?” 

“I’m a fake. Nothing but a fraud.” 

"Bullocks.” You clenched your hands into fists, angered by what you were hearing. “Don’t think I’ll believe any of that for one second. How else would you know about the debt?” You lowered your voice. “Or-or the scars?” 

“The internet. I used Elora’s computer to hack into your records. I researched you. Before we met I discovered everything that I could to impress you. I- I just wanted to impress you. Nobody could be that clever.” 

“No one except for you.” 

“It’s a trick, Watson,” his voice was breaking now. “ Just a magic trick.” 

You couldn’t take much more. The tears were already flowing and you didn’t bother stopping them. You couldn’t lose another person close to you. Not again. Even if he treated you like utter rubbish sometimes, you couldn’t lose him. “Sherlock, no. There has to be another way.” 

“Goodbye, darling.” 

“Sherlock!!” 

Just before the line disconnected, you detected a hesitation. He never hesitated. Then, out of nowhere, came the words you never once expected to hear. They were so faint, you still swear you only imagined them. Maybe you did. Maybe it was all in your head. However, you can still hear his deep voice whisper to you – sharing a secret only the two of you would know...  “I...I love you.” 

Then, he jumped...and left you alone all over again.

------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Hey there, this project has been an ongoing experiment for me about a year now. The idea came to mind after long conversations with a good friend (and fellow Sherlockian) of mine when we did our first watch-through of the series. We wondered what life would be like during the hiatus between TRF and TEH (something we saw in the mini-sode on YouTube: Many Happy Returns). I do promise that all Trigger Warnings, if applicable, will be at the beginning of every chapter, as to allow for maximum comfort and enjoyment for everyone. BBC Sherlock will hold a special spot in my heart and I really hope to do the characters justice!

I also want to provide a thank you to Ariane DeVere on LiveJournal for putting up the episode transcripts for the entire Sherlock series, which has made my writing process a little bit easier to manage. Don’t forget to leave a heart, comment, and a reblog if you want to see more of this story! :)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader is looking for her teenage sister’s service dog one day, she runs into Dean Winchester who thankfully saw him run past. When she arrives, her sister is fine aside from a sprained ankle but Dean’s decided to follow along and help get her sister home...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, mention of car accident/death

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Please enjoy this first part! …

_________

“Toast! Toast!” you shouted as you ran down a street. “Toast boy!”

“Uh, you okay?” said a guy walking on the other side of the street. He was raising an eyebrow and you shook your head.

“Toast is a dog,” you said.

“Oh, gotcha. I thought you were nuts for a minute,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t seen a german shepard around have you?” you asked.

“I saw one run down the block a few minutes ago,” he said. You looked the direction he pointed and you started sprinting. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Can’t talk!” you shouted back. You ran down the block and across the street over to the park. You ran over to the basketball court and saw Toast there next to Tessa. She was sat up and holding onto his vest when you jogged over to her. “Tess. Are you okay? Did you have a seizure?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. She was holding her ankle and you saw the swelling. “I think I broke it playing. My phone’s over in my bag. I told Toast to get it but I guess he ran home and got you instead.”

“He barged in through the doggy door, I thought he was just nuts at first,” you said. You heard footsteps behind you and the man from the street was there panting.

“You found your dog,” he said as he caught his breath. 

“Yeah,” you said, the man wincing when he saw Tessa’s ankle. “We’re all set.”

“She needs a doctor,” he said.

“Tessa, you okay here while I run home to get my car?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said. “Toast’ll stay.”

“I can carry her,” said the man. You both stared at him and he shrugged. “Save you a trip.”

“Are you some kind of weirdo?” you asked. 

“Says the woman running through the neighborhood shouting Toast,” he smiled back.

“Alright. Tess if you’re cool with it…” you said, the man nodding.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean will carry you back to the house and I’ll drive you to urgent care,” you said. “If you do try anything though Dean, Toast will rip your face and junk off, just to be clear.”

“Got the message,” he said. Tessa climbed on his back and he was careful of her ankle while you grabbed her bag. You walked with Toast by Dean’s side back the few blocks towards home. “I think it’s just a sprain actually. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You play basketball?” you asked.

“No. I’m a doctor is all. First glance it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Are you single? Y/N’s single,” she said.

“You’re a little shit, Tessa,” you said. Dean chuckled and Toast bumped his leg. “He wants you to get on the sidewalk.”

“Will do,” he said, Toast giving some space once he’d stepped up off the road. “He’s very intelligent.”

“We’ve only had Toast two years but he’s been very good with us,” you said. “He’s Tessa’s. I just feed him and pick up his poop.”

“I have school, loser.”

“I have work, loser,” you said. 

“You guys must be sisters,” he said. “I’m a big brother. I would know.”

“If your younger brother is single and half as good looking-”

“Keep it in your pants, Tess,” you said. 

“I like you two,” he chuckled. “Sorry Tessa but he’s probably a little too old for you.”

“They always are,” she sighed.

“You’re seventeen. You’re fine,” you said. “Besides college has way more attractive guys and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, Elmdale community college. Known for it’s hotties,” she mumbled.

“Elmdale University has some good choices,” you said.

“I thought it was too expensive,” she said.

“Well I was gonna tell you this at dinner but I applied for a different job awhile ago. I heard back this morning. I accepted. It’s double what I was making before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With your grades you can get a half-ride and I figure between inheritance and my new salary, you can do your four year out of the gate without loans,” you said.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly. “Really.”

“You still need your part-time job if you want to get stuff for yourself though. I’m sorry. I can’t make it work if-”

“S’okay,” she said. “I can’t believe I can go to the university.”

“I called up the school earlier and talked to your guidance counselor. We gotta work on your application but we can make it work,” you said.

“Can I get a car? I know I can’t afford room and board but maybe I can get something used so you don’t have to drive me all the time?” she asked.

“Tessa…” you sighed. You knew you couldn’t afford insurance on two cars at the moment and everything else and she wouldn’t make enough part time to cover all the car expenses herself. “I-”

“I can pick up more shifts,” she said.

“Tessa, I want you to enjoy college. I sure did. I’ll give you rides whenever you want. I’ll drop you off in the morning and pick you up at night. That would work, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t even care about my ankle. I can get my art degree!” she said.

“Tessa.”

“I’m joking,” she laughed. “Art minor?”

“You can minor in whatever you like but please for my sanity major in something you can get a job in?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. You rounded a corner and started to walk up a driveway, Dean setting Tessa down in the passenger seat of your car. You opened the back and Toast jumped in, Dean smiling when you shut both the doors.

“Thanks,” you said. “For helping us out.”

“Sounds like you two know how to solve problems on your own,” he said. “Happy to help. Here.”

He dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card.

“If you ever need a doctor, I’m two blocks over,” he said. “Or just to talk.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, Dean.”

It was around nine when you were sitting on the front porch with a glass of whiskey in your hand. You drank slowly, eyes catching a man in a baseball cap and reflective shirt jogging by.

“Do you always run at night?” you called, Dean stopping at your front walkway. “Cause I never see you run at night and I sit out here a lot.”

“Whew well let’s stop that charade cause running is so not my thing,” he said. He breathed hard for a moment as he walked up the steps. You nodded to the other chair and poured him a glass, Dean drinking it down. “Your sister okay?”

“Yeah. Just a sprain,” you said. “Still gotta pay the deductible for the x-ray though.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” you asked.

“Thirty one,” he said.

“Twenty eight.”

“Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They and Tessa were in an accident two years ago. It’s just us two now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m slowly getting used to be a guardian,” you said.

“I raised my little brother. My parents are still around but they fought a lot. I get becoming the parent when you’re not ready.”

“Do you ever get to just be a sibling again?” you asked.

“Yes. But they have to grow up first and you got a few more years ahead of you before it happens,” he said.

“I figured.”

“What does she have? Toast is a service dog I saw.”

“She gets seizures sometimes. It’s from the accident. She hasn’t had one in seven months. Fingers crossed we got her on the right mix of meds finally,” you said.

“So who takes care of you?”

“My buddy Jack Daniels. Sometimes I hang out Jim Bean too.”

“I’m partial to Johnny Walker,” smiled Dean.

“Very nice. I don’t drink much. Too tired most of the time,” you said.

“So nobody takes care of you then.”

“Who takes care of you?”

“Good point,” he said. “But I didn’t have it this rough.”

“We’re getting by. We always do.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” he said. “Take care of yourself every once in a while is all.”

“When she’s done with school I will.”

“She’s got five years left. You won’t last that long,” he said.

“Watch me.”

“Who worked on your sister at the urgent care tonight?”

“Dr. Novak. Why?”

“Cas is a good friend. I’ll see about getting that x-ray test off the bill,” he said as he stood up.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, heading down the steps. “You want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“...No.”

“You want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at noon? I’m buying. Nothing too fancy,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He smiled and nodded, spinning around and sliding right off the last two steps to his bottom. You rushed down them and he groaned, shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he said, grunting as he stood. “Oh my ass hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said, Dean laughing.

“I definitely like you,” he said as you helped him take a few steps. “I’m alright. I’ll swing by tomorrow then.”

“Bye Dean,” you said.

“Bye Dean!” called Tessa from her bedroom window upstairs.

“Oh my God, go to bed!” you shouted back.

“It’s nine and I’m not twelve,” she said.

“Goodnight ladies,” chuckled Dean, waving as he headed back down the path. You gathered up the bottle and glasses, bringing them inside and locking up for the night. A few minutes later you were upstairs in Tessa’s room, frowning as she giggled while looking through her phone.

“Oh come on,” she said as she rolled her eyes at you. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor, he’s single and he’s a dork that just fell on his butt in front of you cause he’s so nervous and trying to play it cool. Like what is wrong with him?”

“Nothing. We have a date tomorrow,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“We used to talk about guys,” she said. 

“I know,” you said. You picked at the wood, Tessa putting her phone down.

“Y/N. You’re not my mom. I know you gotta act like her sometimes but you’re not. Mom and dad would want you to go on dates and stuff. I haven’t seen you do anything fun in years.”

“I barely knew how to be an adult for just me,” you said. “You’re my priority now.”

“I’m not in a hospital bed anymore. My seizures are under control and I got Toast to watch out for me just in case. Dean had a point. You gotta take care of yourself,” she said. “Including me going to community college.”

“Tessa-”

“It’s both our inheritance and you can’t spend all of it on me. I can do two years at community and transfer to the university after.”

“Tess. You don’t have to do that. I did the math and it’ll work out.”

“When’s the last time you bought something for yourself? Seriously when?”

“I bought a new bedspread two weeks ago.”

“You needed one. That doesn’t count. When-”

“Before mom and dad died, Tess. Is that what you want me to say? They made good money but you had medical bills. Do I want a new winter coat? Sure. Do I want to splurge and by myself a nice pair of leggings? Of course. I want things. But I want us to stay in this house. I don’t want us to get shoved in a tiny apartment. I want you to be able to go to college like I did and not worry about this crap. I’m the grown up, not you. I choose how to spend the money.”

“Fine,” she said. She grabbed the crutch by her bed and got up, going to her dresser. She opened her jewelry box and grabbed a wad of cash, holding it out to you. “It’s three hundred. I want you to have it.”

“Tessa, no.”

“I earned it. I get to choose how to spend it,” she said. “You’ve always told me that. Buy a coat and leggings and whatever else you want.”

“Tessa. It’s yours. You were saving up to buy an iphone.”

“I don’t need a fucking phone. I need my sister to stop looking like she cries herself to sleep every night. Just take it,” she said. You shook your head and she shoved the money in your hand. “Y/N, take it.”

“Alright,” you said. 

“Good.” She waited a beat before pulling you into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “You got plans tomorrow night?”

“I was gonna sleepover Hailey’s house if that’s okay?” she said.

“Yeah. You guys have fun,” you said. “Just be careful on your ankle.”

“Duh,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I’m kinda beat. Sunday for sure?” you said. 

“Okay. Night,” she said.

“Night, Tess,” you said. You went next door to your room, opening your desk drawer and opening the envelope inside. You counted the money she’d given you and added it to the front. You definitely had enough for her phone now and her birthday was only a few weeks away. You smiled and put it away, writing out a few bills before you gathered up your pajamas and walked down the hall to the bathroom. You kept going though, down to the shut door. You pushed it open, the room cold and dark. You flipped on a light, a coating of dust on everything again.

“Y/N?” said Tessa from the other end of the hall. You turned off the light and shut the door, Tessa by the bathroom when you walked back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna shower quick before bed. Shout if you need something.”

“Yeah. Night.”

Dean POV

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean after he’d gotten out of the shower and was laying in bed. 

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” asked Sam on the other end of the phone. 

“I think I just went full on weirdo on this girl I met today.”

“Well that’s obvious but what’d you do? You didn’t like stalk her or anything.”

“She lives in the neighborhood. I kinda went jogging past her house tonight and she was sat on the front porch.”

“Okay that’s kinda creepy,” said Sam. Dean ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I gave off creeper vibes but she might have just been polite. I don’t know. We’re going out tomorrow,” said Dean. He was quiet as he shut his eyes. “Which sucks cause I really like her too. I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird.”

“Maybe she’ll have pity on you and let it slide. Where’d you meet her? I thought you swore off women after your last hookup went bad,” he said. Dean didn’t speak and ran his hand over his face again. “De I know something happened that night.”

“Sammy I got tired of hooking up. I’m too old for it. I just want a girl to go home to at the end of the day and laugh with. That’s all there is to it,” said Dean.

“Dean I was still living with you at the time. You were off for days. I know-”

“If you’re gonna bring this shit up again-”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to hear you excited about a girl again...and you can tell me anything. Anything, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re twenty seven. You’re a kid,” said Dean. He rolled over on the bed and lay on his stomach, putting his hands under his chin. “Some things I just don’t tell you about, Sam.”

“Dean, I asked you to stop raising me awhile ago. You’re not my father anymore.”

“I still gotta protect you from stuff,” said Dean with a shrug.

“I get that. But my mind has gone to the worst case scenario on this more than once. Just promise it wasn’t that,” said Sam.

“Sammy, I called to talk about a girl.”

“You want things to work out with her? Then figure out whatever the hell happened in the past so it doesn’t happen again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Dean. 

“Whatever. Just crack a joke next time you see her,” said Sam. He hung up and Dean looked at his phone, sighing before he jammed his face in the bed. He gripped the sheets tight and felt his heart rate pick up, bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Stop. It,” he said to himself, forcing himself to sit up. He wiped off his eye and dropped his head to his chest. “It’s just a fucking girl. It’s just a girl, it’s just a date. It’s all it is.”

He saw his phone light up and Sam’s name appear. He swiped and put it on speaker before he faced away from it.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam. 

“It’s okay,” said Dean, freezing when he sniffled. He stared at the phone and Sam cleared his throat.

“You alright?” Dean stared at the phone and shook his head. “De, you there?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes…” said Sam. “It’s just me.”

“You repeat a word of this to anybody or you laugh or you tease me or-”

“Hey. I’d rather we not have this conversation over the phone. I can be there in an hour.”

“...Fine but you better bring some pie with you.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Dean.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[disasterfandoms]

Masterlist

Doing this so people on mobile have access as well! pray for me, this one is going to suck.

Last updated: 6/29/22 at 4:24 PM

*** = smutty

911

Evan “Buck” Buckley:

Dating Evan Buckley ~ Headcannons

Everything Will Be Okay ~ Imagine

Riding Evan Buckley ~ Imagine ***

Evan Buckley x Strand!reader headcanons

Strand!Reader Proposal ~ Headcanons

A Little One of Our Own ~ Imagine

Fluffy Alphabet ~ Evan Buckley Edition

The Scariest Day ~ Imagine

NSFW ABC ~ Evan Buckley Edition ***

Blue Octopus ~ Imagine (Flufftober)

Eddie Diaz and Bobby Nash:

Guilt ~ Imagine

Eddie Diaz:

Smutty Alphabet ***

Dating Eddie Diaz ~ Headcanons

After Hour Diner ~ Strand!Reader imagine

Adult Sleepover ~ Imagine ***

9-1-1 Lone Star

Marjan Marwani

Sibling Surprise ~ Ryder!reader imagine

Judd Ryder:

Being Judd Ryder’s sister ~Headcanons

Judd and Grace:

This is Your Home Now ~ The Ryders x teen!reader imagine

Judd and Grace’s Love Story

Wine Dance ~ Judd x Grace x bestfriend!reader imagine

Mateo Chavez:

Dating Mateo Chavez ~ Headcanons

Nervous!Mateo Asking You Out ~ Headcanons

First Kiss ~ Headcanons

Protective!Mateo ~ Headcanons

Mateo Has A Crush On You ~ Headcanons

Fluff Alphabet: Mateo Chavez

First “I Love You” ~ Headcanons

Birthday Surprise ~ Headcanons

Married To Mateo ~ Headcanons Affectionate!Mateo~ Headcanons

TK Strand:

Being TK’s Twin Headcanons

Carlos Reyes:

Being Carlos’s best friend ~ Headcanons

S.W.A.T

General:

20-David’s Reactions to Street’s Breakup ~ Preference

20-David + Rocker’s Hobbies ~ Preference

Bad Day ~ Preference

Jim Street:

Fake Social Media

Dating Jim Street ~ Headcanons

NSFW Street Headcanons

Donovan Rocker:

Dating Donovan Rocker ~ Headcanons

Jim Street x Donovan Rocker, aka Dim:

Dim Dating ~ Headcanons

A Letter To You ~ Imagine

It Will All Work Out ~ Imagine

Chris Alonso:

Dating Chris Alonso ~ Headcanons

David “Deacon” Kay:

Dating Deacon ~ Headcanons

Dominique Luca:

Dating Dominique Luca ~ Headcanons

Fluffy Alphabet ~ Dominique Luca Edition

Anniversary Surprise ~ Imagine

Nervous, Can’t Show It~ Headcanons

Victor Tan:

Dating Victor Tan ~Headcanons

Love You Until The End ~ A Bonnie Lonsdale x Victor Tan story

Let’s Make a Family ~ A Victor Tan x Bonnie Lonsdale Story

Jim Street x Victor Tan

I Can’t Lose You ~ A Jim Street and Victor Tan One Shot

Prodigal Son

Malcolm Bright

Dating Malcolm Bright ~ Headcanons

Magnum P.I.

General:

S/O Injured || Preference

Thomas Magnum

Date Night with Thomas ~ Headcanons

Cuddling Thomas Magnum ~ Headcanons

All I Want ~ Imagine

Juliet Higgins:

Dating Juliet Higgins ~ Headcanons

Gordon Katsumoto:

Dating Gordon Katsumoto ~ Headcanons

Sex with Gordon Katsumoto ~ Headcanons ***

Station-19

Jack Gibson:

Jack Gibson’s Instagram

Dating Jack Gibson ~ Headcanons

Car Accident ~ Imagine

Seal Team

General:

Seal Team Preference: How they comfort you during a bad and and/or ill

Jealousy ~ Preference

Seal Team Preference: Self-Defense Training

Testosterone Time: A Seal Team Preference

Date Nights ~ A Seal Team Preference

Hurt S/O ~ A Seal Team Preference

Protective Bravo Team ~Seal Team Headcanons

Fallen Eagle ~ A Seal Team Oneshot

Sonny Quinn:

Dating Sonny Quinn- Headcanons

Moving in With Sonny Quinn ~ Headcanons

Going Through Hell ~ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Proposal ~ Sonny Quinn Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet ~ Sonny Quinn Edition***

Fluffy Alphabet ~ Headcanons

Clay Spenser:

Dating Clay Spenser ~ Headcanons

Moving in with Clay ~ Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet: Clay Spenser ***

The Proposal ~ Headcanons

Daddy-Daughter Fun ~ Imagine

Stress and Relax ~ Imagine

Fluffy Alphabet: Clay Spenser

Future Home ~ Headcanons

Trent Sawyer:

Dating Trent Sawyer ~ Headcanons

Fluffy Alphabet ~ Trent Sawyer Edition

NSFW Alphabet ~ Trent Sawyer Edition ***

Brock Reynolds:

Fluffy Alphabet ~ Brock Reynolds Edition

Smutty Alphabet ~ Brock Reynolds Edition ***

Meet My Dad ~ Brock x Carter!Reader Imagine

To Deploy, You Go~ A Brock Reynolds x Carter!Reader imagine

Dating Brock Reynolds ~ Headcanon

Eric Blackburn:

Breakfast in Bed ~ An Eric Blackburn imagine

Meet My Love ~ Imagine

Full Metal:

Sex with Full Metal~ Headcanons***

Trent/Full Metal:

Hold On to the Stars~ Imagine

Trent Sawyer & Full-Metal Series:

After Action Argument ~ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The Sister Becomes Known

You Shouldn’t Be Alone Part 1

CODA SERIES MASTERLIST The Carter-Sawyer Collection Part 1

The Blackburn Collection

The Reynolds Collection

The Carter Collection

CSI

Gil Grissom:

Sex With Gil ~ Headcanons ***

Chicago PD

Jay Halstead:

NSFW Alphabet ~ Jay Halstead Edition***

Criminal Minds

Derek Morgan

Dating Derek Morgan || Headcanons

Spencer Reid

First Date with Spencer Reid

[childrenofthenightt]

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

------

Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?  

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her  pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - Trollhunters/3Below | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count:  1,445

Warnings: swearing i think?

A/N:  Last chapter before we’re back to wizards

Tags: @furblrwurblr​ @rainningdoom​ @fluffydmonkey @blondie0458​ @sitherin-mxschief

Back | Next

--

Jim Lake Jr.’s mom was really familiar.

Fortunately, she didn’t recognize you, even as you studied under her at the hospital and watched out for her son in your free time.

Protecting the Trollhunter was something you had stumbled into.

After your return from a place you’d rather not think about ever again, you found Arcadia.  A safe little town in California where you could hide for the time being.

Then the trolls found you.

It wasn’t your fault that you’d nearly killed Blinky.  He snuck up on you, and you were very jumpy.  Fortunately, you’d figured out that you weren’t under attack before you could do any real damage.  It wasn’t too long after that when you found out your new mentor’s son was the Trollhunter, protector of trollkind and slayer of Gumm-Gumms, wielder of the amulet created by your first mentor, Merlin.

This kid was in way over his head.  

You had to protect him.

So, you helped to teach him how to use a sword, how to fight and how to survive.  You helped his friend, Toby, to throw a decent punch and knock out a human opponent with pressure points.  You were a cool older sibling who they could talk to about the stress of the job.  And girls.  

When Claire joined the party, you helped her practice magic.  You helped her learn to control it. 

You were quite the gang.  One immortal, who everyone believed to be a college student, and three high schoolers in charge of kicking the darkness back to whence it came.  

You protected those kids and their troll dads.  You made excuses, forged notes, fought off Mr. Strickler, the whole nine yards.  Somehow, you’d avoided sharing your past with the prying teens.  They didn’t know you’d once been a Gumm-Gumm spy.  You were just a cool mage who hung around for fun.

That all came crashing down when Bular crawled out of the woodwork, revealed your identity, almost killed your friends, and got you in a chokehold for a solid two minutes.

Centuries of work were finally paying off, he would, at last, have his revenge!  He would regain his honour after being so shamefully defeated the last time he fought you.

Then Jim killed him.  Rip.  

You got your old sword back though.  That was nice.

The trollhunter may have saved your life and given you your sword back, but the damage was done.  You all avoided each other after that.

That was a lie, you were still looking out for these damn kids.  You owed it to Barbara, who had grown up to be a fantastic doctor and who still had a few plastic bones in a box in the attic.  She had been so kind and welcoming to you, you had to make sure her son came home every day.  It was a difficult task when said son was all too willing to yeet himself into the Darklands, but you managed for the most part.

And when you heard a voice that followed you for centuries talking to your kids, it was the Darklands all over again.  There was nothing you could do but watch.

You could have laughed at how much Jim hated Douxie.  The kid had no idea he was telling a centuries-old wizard to go back to where he came from.  You kept your eye on the conversation, waiting until it ended.  Then, with no other choice available to you, you followed after the wizard.

How Douxie had built himself a life in Arcadia without you knowing was incredible and you respected the hell out of him for it.  But you didn’t know if you loved it.  

You followed behind him, silent as the night.  And then you realised just what was happening.  You stopped and went home after that.

And when you got there you screamed.

You screamed, and threw a sword at the wall, and broke several plates because this wasn’t supposed to happen.  You weren’t supposed to see him again.  Now he was in danger, and it was your fault.

You didn’t leave your house for a few days.

Then the teachers at Jim’s school went nuts, and you figured you should get back in the field.  

You’d been monitoring Claire’s sudden illness from afar when he showed up again, this time a waiter at whatever restaurant this was.  At some point, Claire left, and came back, and was acting... weird.  Something was very wrong.

But that didn’t matter because there he was again.  It was like you couldn’t escape him.

It was an active struggle to keep yourself away.  Literally, an active struggle.

You’d tried to put it out of your mind, but the more you saw him, the more you remembered.  The things that took you hadn’t only tortured you, trying to turn you into their full-time servant, but they’d also put some kind of spell or curse on you.

It was after the third one left if you remembered correctly.  The remaining duo had been so angry, specifically at Merlin for some reason, so they put some kind of curse on you, forcing you to make attempts on Douxie’s life whenever he was in your general vicinity.  

Why they went after Douxie instead of Merlin himself you’d never know.  The wizard was an easier target while he slept, but nope.  They went for Douxie.

You were confused, angry, and hurt.  At both parties.  You had been tortured for ten years.  Had he not felt any of it?  Had he not cared enough to help you?  Or even stop your pain which he must’ve been feeling?  It felt like a betrayal of sorts.  He kissed you and then didn’t come for you when you were in danger.  Was that all he wanted?  

Even though you were upset by your apparent abandonment, you didn’t want Douxie dead.  This wasn’t the twelfth century anymore, and you had to admit to yourself, you were still in love with him.  You weren’t going to kill him.

So you clung to the roof, even after Douxie had left for the night.  You stayed in place until the sun rose, struggling not to go after him.  Eventually, you let go, moving on with your day, avoiding Hisirdoux Casperan to the best of your ability.

You actually did a decent job until the Eternal Night.

It was a pretty nasty battle, but you were handling it pretty well.

Or you were until you got yourself backed into a corner by yet another Gumm-Gumm calling you a traitor, probably facing certain death when someone struck the thing with a guitar.

“Casperan!?”

“(Y/N)!?  What are you doing here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, crawling to your feet, trying to keep yourself from throwing the sword in your hand at Douxie’s head.

“I- you’re right.  Are you okay?”

“No, I-” your voice broke and you backed away further, “I’m not.  Get away from me,”

You ran before you could see the pain leak into Douxie’s eyes before you could see the heartbreak on his face.

Ten minutes later the fight was finished.

A little after that, Jim and Claire were off to New Jersey.

You stayed behind.

Why did you do that?  You asked yourself the same question.  Staying in Arcadia put Douxie in danger and forced you into close proximity with the man who’d left you for dead.  

But still, you stayed.

Maybe it was to protect Toby and Arrrgh, maybe it was because you liked your small apartment, maybe it was because you knew there was more trouble on the horizon.  Or maybe it was because you were still in love with that stupid wizard.

You lost a lot of sleep over it.  You saw his face in your sleep, thought of him when you practiced medicine.  Every time you woke up from a war-related nightmare, you remembered how comforting his presence was.  You remembered every hug he’d ever given you, the jokes he made, and that kiss.  You remembered that kiss.

All you had was memories because if you even looked at his face, you’d kill him.

You did your best to distract yourself.  You teamed up with Toby, Arrrgh, Steve, Eli and the Akiridions to stop an alien threat.  It still wasn’t enough.

And when the alien threat was gone, you felt pain all over your body.  It didn’t belong to you.  You weren’t too alarmed, usually, torture was worse than this, but it kinda felt like Douxie had been dragged down the street by something for six(teen) blocks.

You were about to mention it when your posse ran into a familiar familiar.

“Beware!  You, you!  Are in grave danger!”

“Archie?”

[sherlockfanficwriting]

Sherlock “Tragically Taken”      (x reader)

Summary - Being Sherlock’s sister has gotten you a lot of attention, but not all of it is good. Jim Moriarty was always obsessed with you, but one day he takes it too far. How do you get yourself out of his grasp? Will Sherlock be there for you? 

Warnings - Angst, violence

A/N - hello guys sorry I have been slow but I have been busy, truly. I loved writing this because as you know angst is my specialty. I am still doing your requests and I am trying to get some ideas of my own. Send me some more and be patient I know I am a snail...but enjoy the story of these wonderful men and the sister. You guys like the idea of a more humane sister and I do too, if you wanna see more request some! :) @fanfictionsilove​ @bakerstreethound​ @redheaded-hobbit​ @theartisticscientistsworld​ @dancezwithwolvez​ I forgot my tag list hehe

“Sherlock, I know!” You said to your brother, running ahead of him. 

“No, (Y/N), really!” Sherlock sped up to you. You were walking with him on the bustling London streets after getting finished with a case. 

Sherlock grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. “I-I’m sorry.” You laughed at him, causing him to look confused. 

“I’m not mad at you for losing my watch, christ. You are way too gullible.” You loved playing with Sherlock. Quite often, being torn between loving him one minute and hating him the next, you were confused by the ambivalence of your feelings. Playing with him was one way to balance it out. 

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Sherlock said as you continued walking on with a huge smile on your face. He knew that your smile often had ambiguous meanings. 

“Okay, so where are we going?” Sherlock asked. 

“Scotland yard first. Greg wants to meet us.” 

“Just making sure you remembered,” he said, standing over the curb, waving his hands for a taxi. One came speeding by and you hopped in it, pushing your brother over, causing him to lightly punch you. Ever since you were young kids you were always fighting with each other.

“Scotland Yard.” Sherlock told the driver as he zoomed away. You looked out the window at all the shops and buildings, examining all the people - one of the spectacular traits you had with your brother, although you argued you were far more intelligent. You were also more human than your brother. You had loved someone before and quite frankly, you act like a normal human. You also felt emotions - something that you valued a lot. 

“What do you think he’s going to tell us?” You asked Sherlock. 

“Something serious, probably.” 

The taxi slowed down to a halt in front of Scotland Yard and you left first, leaving Sherlock to pay. 

“Really? Third time this week!” He said, getting out of the car. 

“Be a gentleman,” you said, laughing with him. You walked inside with Sherlock. Noticing Anderson near a front desk, you approached him. Leaving him no time to greet you, you asked him, “Where’s Lestrade?” 

“Down that hall. Third door to the right. (Y/N), I didn-.” 

“Great, thanks!” Sherlock said, carrying your arm with him, almost tripping you. His legs were twice as long as yours.  You turned around and waved at Anderson, winking at him, which caused him to blush. You didn’t like Anderson but you were always polite and willing to talk if he wanted, unlike Sherlock who was always like this. Also, you knew that everyone adored you...you weren't sure why, but it was probably the likable personality. You walked down the hall and into Lestrade’s room without knocking. He was scribbling down something on a paper. 

He looked up at the two of you and stood up. “About time!” 

“What happened?” 

“He’s back.” He opened a drawer and pulled out about three papers with pictures on them. “There he is.” 

You bent over to see them and you saw him. Moriarty. He was walking around somewhere, god knows doing what.

“He’s going to do something.” Lestrade said. 

“It’s not going to be good.” Sherlock added. 

You looked at them. Sherlock was worried and so was Lestrade. It was obvious. You tried to stay calm. You heard of the crimes this man committed, but you never studied his cases much or interacted with him, like Sherlock did. 

“Do you have security around?” Sherlock asked. 

Lestrade nodded. “They’re everywhere, but you wouldn’t know. We can’t risk this man bombing a building or a mass shooting somewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised. He could do anything.” 

“Have any clue where he is?” 

Lestrade shook his head. “That’s where you help us.” He picked up the papers with Moriarty on them and handed them to Sherlock. “I know where he is, we have people there right now.” 

Sherlock examined the pictures and said, “We’ll go. Right now.” He walked out of the door and Lestrade followed. He turned around to look at you and asked, “(Y/N), we could use you. Aren’t you coming?” 

You gave him a smile but shook your head. “Not now. I’ll probably stop by soon. I have to do something.”

He smiled at you and jogged out of the room to catch up to Sherlock. You began walking out the other direction for an exit. You weren’t in the mood at all to go with them. You didn’t know why, but you just were. You needed a break - something like that. Time to think. Plus, you were scared of Moriarty. It was almost as if he was everywhere.

He doesn’t even know me

You shook off your paranoia and held your head high, the feeling of fear slowly abating from you as you walked. For a few mere minutes, you walked along blank hallways of Scotland Yard. You had no idea where you were. The closed white doors looked the same as well as the floors. You walked to a near door and stood on your tiptoes, trying to peer inside. You couldn’t see anything, so you opened the door. You stepped inside to pure blackness of a desolate room. The door shut behind you, leaving you alone. You were curious where you were and ran your hands along the wall, searching for a light. You groaned and tried to look for the door. You felt it, but something was odd. 

No handle

You tried pushing the door, but it didn’t budge. You took a few steps behind, when suddenly someone wrapped their arm around your waist forcefully, dragging you back. You screamed, but they pressed their hand over your mouth, obscuring the sound. You were panicking. Who did this? You couldn’t see anything, which made the matter even worse. You tried kicking whoever this was and succeeded, but then they squeezed the skin on your abdomen, hard, causing you pain. You felt them walk backward, but you didn’t feel the floor. Your legs were barely touching it. All of a sudden you felt your body slowing down. Your thoughts processed at the rate of a normal human. Your energy drained as your body slumped in their grasp. 

----------------

You quickly opened your eyes and darted up from the ground. You looked around the room you were in, examining each and every part of it. 

Scotland Yard

You were still here, just in a different room. You tried to get up but noticed your legs were tied together tightly as where your wrists. You felt minimal pain in your stomach and suddenly remembered what happened before. It was quite clear you were kidnapped and you knew it would be hard to get yourself out of this. 

“Hello!” You cried out. You heard footsteps approaching nearby and suddenly the door in front of you swung open. There he was. Moriarty. You didn’t know you could feel this scared, until now. Fear pumped through your body, but you made sure not to show it. He walked up to you with a wide smile and crouched down to you. 

“How did you sleep?” He asked. 

You looked at him, puzzled. “Why am I here? Why did you do this to me?” 

He pursed his lips. “Because I can.” He placed his hand around your chin, pulling it up to him and then he ran his fingers through your hair. You let him. You didn’t have a choice, but you didn’t want to be on his bad side. He grabbed your neck and pressed his lips against yours hard. You didn’t do anything. You just let him. 

“You are so pretty.” 

“Thank you.” You said blankly, showing no emotion. 

“I’m surprised you’re related to Sherlock.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You’re different. I know it. I’ve seen it. You’re an anomaly among your siblings. You can feel all the emotions. He has yet to prove to me he feels them. You possess an everlasting intelligence that others would die for.” 

“I guess I do.” 

“Since you’re related, you know about Sherlock. You know everything.” 

“A-about what?” 

He walked up to you and lost the smile from his face. “Everything. You’re going to tell me where he is right now first.” 

You thought for a moment. “Where you were seen earlier. It was by an alley.” 

“You’re not lying?” 

“I’m not,” you said candidly. 

“What does he know about me?” 

“I don’t know. That you’re dangerous?” 

He laughed madly. “Oh really? That’s it?” Suddenly he kicked your leg, causing you to wince in agony. “You’re bad at lying.” 

“I-I’m not.” You said. He kicked you again, this time in your stomach. You were sure he broke a rib along with a bruise. You were helpless. 

“If I knew something, I would tell you. I’m serious.” 

“What crimes did your other brother have to save him from?” 

Crimes?

You didn’t know all of them. Which were they? He forcefully tilted your head to face him. 

“Answer me.” 

“He shot someone. I don’t know who.” 

Moriarty slapped your face and wrapped his hands around your neck. You felt tears escape from your eyes. You didn’t want him to hurt you. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to die. His grip tightened on your neck. 

“You’re useless. You’re lying.” He squeezed your neck tighter, constricting any air you took in. You looked into his eyes. They were fierce, full of danger. He released his hands, causing you to slump to the floor. 

“Useless.” 

You prayed Sherlock was coming to get you. Someone. You didn’t know the time and hours could have passed since you last talked to them. They had to have known something happened. 

---------------

“I know, something happened” Sherlock screamed at Lestrade. He closed his eyes, trying to think fast. 

“She was last at Scotland Yard. She had to do something somewhere and said she was coming soon.”

“Hours have passed! She says that when she doesn’t want to come.” 

Lestrade scratched his head. “We can go check.”

“Something happened. She wasn’t mad. Someone bad. Dangerous. Call Anderson, have him look at cameras everywhere. Now.”

----------------

Moriarty paced around the door, pondering about something. You eased yourself back up. The pain wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t pleasant. You could endure it. 

“Is Sherlock inspired by me?”

The question caught you off guard. Inspired? Is this guy a joke? What answer did he want to hear or was this a trick question? 

“In some ways.” 

He directed his gaze over to you. “How?” 

“You’re relatively discreet and don’t let anyone stop you.” At this point you were making things up. You only knew he was a bad person, but you didn’t know the specifics. Just by spending however long it was with him, you knew nobody stopped him or got in his way. 

“Is he coming for you?” 

“He doesn’t know where I am.” 

He walked over to you, causing your body to shake from fear. “Answer my question.” 

“Yes.” 

Moriarty strained his neck left and right. “Well in that case, we wait.” He placed his hand in his pocket. “This is going to be good.” He pulled out a gun. Your heart dropped. You couldn’t be this dumb to think he wouldn’t carry one. 

“I suppose I’ll untie you. I’m sure you want to die feeling free.” He pulled out a small knife and cut the wires over your body. It didn’t feel much relieving to you knowing that you might die at any time. You didn’t budge.

“How much do you value your life?” 

“A lot.” It was true. You loved your life. You didn’t deserve this.

“That’s too bad.” He walked up to you, pulling your chin up to face him. “Too bad such a beauty has to die.” 

All of a sudden you heard fast footsteps accompanied by the door bolted open. Your heart raised. You saw Sherlock, Lestrade, and three other men standing there. Moriarty’s facial expression didn’t change. The gun was still pointed ever so slightly at you. Sherlock looked worried, sad, and angry. It killed you to see him like this, but you knew it killed him too. 

“Moriarty, you don’t have to do this.”

“That’s funny, but I do.” 

“No - stop! You don’t. What do you need?” 

“Her.” 

Moriarty moved his hand near the trigger but all of a sudden opened his mouth to pull it. Sherlock eased back as did the others, but at the last moment he swung it over to you, shooting you. The shot was followed by another. You didn’t believe it. You were actually shot. Was this really happening to you?

“(Y/N)!” Sherlock cried, rushing over to you. You looked at your stomach. Blood formed a large circle through your white blouse. You looked up at Sherlock, who wrapped his arm around your back and placed a firm hand on your stomach. You felt the pain from the bullet immensely as it tore through your skin. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re going to be fine okay?” He hugged you and squeezed your hand. 

“I’m not. This is it for me.” His face dropped when you said this. 

“Don’t say that. It’s not. You’re just feeling pain. This was all my fault.” You didn’t know how you knew you were going to die, but you just knew it. It was an unusual feeling, the blood pouring from your stomach quickly. The energy draining from you. 

“Don’t blame yourself. This had nothing to do with you. Tell Mycroft too.” 

“No. This wasn’t your fault. I love you. I love you so much. You can’t leave me.” His voice quivered. You stared into his eyes, now pouring tears. 

“I love you too. I had an exciting life with you. So many memories.” Your eyelids felt heavy and it was getting difficult to talk. You closed them.

“Just hold on a little longer.” Sherlock turned around to face Lestrade who mouthed something to him. Something bad. 

“I love you.” 

Your eyelids were completely relaxed now. You felt Sherlock trying to shake you. Your thoughts processed slower. You felt the process start. Your heart slowed down. Your movements slowed. You heard Sherlock crying for you. He wrapped his arm around you tighter. He screamed for you, trying to wake you up. 

Those were the last things you heard, following with the inhuman agonizing cry of a man who just lost someone that meant the world to him. He vowed himself to protect you, but his actions proved useless. 

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Medicine - Jim x fem!reader // Part One

I’m doing this guys.

Multi part fanfiction on Jim losely inspired by multiple songs on my playlist. The whole thing is following Medicine by The 1975 but each chapters will have a different theme within it besides this one because it’s mainly exposition.

Description: In a desperate attempt to “make things work” in a marriage already shattered a decade ago, (Y/N)’s parents move in Palos Verde where she meets Medina, a newfound hermit like her.

Warnings: mention of dysfunctional/toxic relationships, alcohol and drug abuse.

Word counts: 1.6k+

She hated being the new kid in town. She hated the attention it brought to her as she wandered the confusing halls of her new school. She hated the eyes glued to her as she sat alone at her table at lunch. She hated having to introduce herself over and over again to her classmates. She hated the spotlight and the stares.

Her gentle footsteps carried her to the lockers, looking down at the 93 scribbled on her palm, scanning the metal doors and looking for the number she had been assigned to in the ocean of students pacing up and down the hall.

 “Hey, you’re (Y/N), the new girl, right, a gentle voice spoke behind your as you snapped out of your search.

- Oh, yeah, hi! She turned to the girl, probably around her age, standing next to her. We have classes together, don’t we?

- I think so, yes, I’m Medina.”

 With a friendly handshake and her best smile, the blonde girl helped (Y/N) locate her locker and settle. The next couple of classes where spent in hushed whispers and sassy comments about diverse people walking past them or throwing glances in their direction.

 The outcast had found another hermit with who she could moan about others with and it made their afternoon slightly more tolerable.

As the bell rang the end of the day, the two young women took their own paths home, Medina jumping on her bicycle and riding down the road aside a tall brunette. She had never mentioned a boyfriend but she didn’t know the blonde to take any sense of betrayal in her blood.

 Kicking up a stone or two on her way to the house she had barely got the chance to settle in, she was lost in her thoughts, trying to remember the information that had been unfurled in front of her throughout the day. The voice of her father welcomed her in the house. All she could see was the blinking colours spewing out of the TV and the back of the elderly man’s head on the couch as she climbed up the flight of stairs carrying her to her bedroom.

The door gently swayed closed as she sat at the brand new corner desk begging to be used. Unpacking her bag’s content on the desk, (Y/N) quickly worked on her tasks for the night after putting her favourite playlist on for motivation.

 Her gentle features bobbed to the beat of the music while she could hear the ocean’s harsh waves crashing on the rocks a hundred feet away from her window.

Her mother must have opened it during the day during her daily compulsive cleaning sessions. What a strange woman she was, the young one thought. After her father had caught his spouse in bed with another man, she had spun their world around and condemned herself to a life of a full time housewife, losing her mind in cleaning products and a pair of rubber cloves, the chemicals becoming some twisted medicine to her unfaithfulness.

 What a strange man her father was, accepting the multitude of apologies her mother webbed over the years. She had given up her work to tie herself to his will. As a child, her parents were the only idea of love she could base herself on which is mostly the reason of her own relationships failing. Her shifted idea of what a man and woman should act as when together was shattered when the time for her to have her first boyfriend came.

 And before she could remember the night said boyfriend broke her poor little heart, the creaking of her door pulled her out of her daydreaming, her mother standing in the frame. Her voice, raspy from decades of smoking, invited her to join them for dinner.

That’s one thing she hated too. The questioning. Yes, her day had been fine. Yes, she was making friend. Yes, her homework were finished. No, she hadn’t developed a crush on the neighbour yet. Her eyes rolled so far she fear it might disappear at the back of her skull.

 “We have been invited to a little gathering after dinner, would you care to join, the voice of her father pushed the clouded thoughts of her day out of the way.

- Sure, where is it?

- Down a few blocks, there will be a bonfire and you could bring your doodling stuff, the mother carried on.

- Yeah okay, I guess I could walk home if the adult talk become too boring, the teenager concluded as she pushed her last broccoli in her mouth, chewing on it for longer that she should.

- Great, we’ll be heading there when you are ready, sweetie”.

 The urge to roll her eyes once more was intense but she held back. The family dynamic had been broken all those years ago when the cat had gone out of the bag about her poor mother. Or poor father? (Y/N) didn’t know which one to pity the most. Their empty drive to “make it work” had smothered their daughter.

She found a way out in art. She would try her hands at any mediums. Sculpting was her favourite and she lavished herself in bringing bodies and forms to life from her nimble fingers, calloused and blistered by the hot clay. But what she was the best at was with a pencil.

 Many a sketchbook had been filled with grotesque cartoons and semi realistic portraits and stills. The comfort that sketching a frame of her vision on the blank pages somewhat made up for the lack of a mother or father figure, the two of them too busy trying to work on each other.

After shoving the dirty cutlery and plates in the dish washer, she jumped up the stairs and gathered her supplies before kicking her shoes on and following her parents to the car. There was no need for conversation as the vehicle sped down the empty streets and there was also no need for a car ride altogether.

 The smell of burning wood hit (Y/N)’s nose, offering a pleasant change from the brine and seaweed. Stepping out of the car, an unknown voice welcomed you to join the group of mingling adults at the back. A series of new introduction took place as her father shook hands with multiple strangers.

“You must be (Y/N), ‘the new girl’ Medina talked about. I’m Phil” his large hand reached forward for hers, which she shook while noticing that glint in his eyes.

The same sad glint she had seen in her father’s eyes. With the same palm, he quickly pointed to the large bonfire 200 ft forward on the beach. “She’s over there if you look for her” he mentioned causing her to whisper a quick thank you and darting towards the large dancing flames surrounded by a handful of teenagers.

 Once the sand pooled too much in her shoes and she cursed herself for wearing them, she quickly pulled them out, gingerly walking towards the only figure she recognised. Medina’s 6th sense must have been tingling because she turned around to the hesitant silhouette approaching, inviting her to sit by her side.

 “I didn’t think my dad meant it when he said you were invited tonight” the blonde suddenly blushed as the spot next to her got filled with her new acquaintance. Enquiring about the content of her Y/N, sparked a lengthy conversation about art and drawings, learning that the other outcast’s outlet was to surf with her sibling.

As if mentioning her twin was a magical incantation, his hazy body walked into view. The boy she had mistakenly assumed was the boyfriend your new friend was only his brother. He slumped next to her, his words slurred and somewhat jumbled while carrying the lingering smell of weed and booze.

 “Y-You’re not going to introduce me, he nearly choked, his head slumping forward in a playful wave.

- That’s (Y/N), she’s new here, she looked at her brother then turned to her friend, that’s my brother Jim, he’s… not new here.

- Very nice to meet you, his hand reached forward, sawing wildly.”

 Hesitantly shaking his hand, (Y/N) shared a somewhat worried look with Medina. His broad shoulders fell backwards in the sand while he gazed at the stars but her eyes were set on the display of the waves.

The blonde excused herself for a second, muttering she needed the bathroom, before her figure disappeared up the sandy slope to the house. The awkward tension thickened as the young woman felt Jim’s gaze read her features.

 She was not the conventional type of pretty. But damn did she look gorgeous as the amber lights of the flames licked her skin somehow highlighting her flaw in an array of beauty. It was probably the alcohol clouding his mind or most likely the drugs fogging his eyes. Fishing out her notepad, she started to stain the pages of her notebook with the beauty of the ocean she was witnessing as the moon was coasting on top of the waves.

The gentle footfalls of Medina brushed against her ear while (Y/N) consumed the night, her nose stuffed in her pencils and charcoals, the conversation between the twins losing itself in the blur of her focused gaze darting between the water and the her paper.

 How could he focus on the words leaving his lips when this otherworldly apparition was so deeply enthralled in her mind? Her fingers greyed and stained by the lead she was smearing on the pages. And he noticed it. That broken glimmer in her eyes. Because she was broken too, maybe more than he was himself but in her own beautiful way. And maybe he could fix her. For a split second where her eyes fell deep within his, the haze of his inebriated mind, he sobered up.

_________________________________________________

Taglist anyone?

[controloffandoms]

Paparazzi (J.A.)

Prompt: Requested by anonymous for a friend. (I’m sorry, I lost the ask so I came up with this without the prompt)

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader, slight Thomas Padalecki x reader

Words: 3193

Warnings: cursing, Paparazzi, panic, anxiety

Notes: I may or may not have been reading a lot of fics about the daughter/dad relationship between Jensen and his daughter, the reader. For the purposes of this story, Thomas is 17, Shep is 10 and Odette is 5. JJ is 8, Arrow and Zep are 4. Maison is 13 and West is 16. Obviously I’m changing the years of birth :)

Part 2

Ever since you could remember, you had been put in the spotlight. Your father, Jensen Ackles, was a huge star in the show Supernatural and everyone wanted to know about his personal life...and that included you. Not to mention that you had a weird family from the cast of Supernatural. You had your Uncles Jared, Misha, Jim, and so on. You had you Aunts Ruth, Kim, and so on.

The nice thing was that you could shield your younger siblings from the paps. You could almost make their life normal. You were the oldest, you could grab all of the attention in the room in order to keep your siblings at a safe distance from those who would try to get too close to your younger siblings.

You weren’t Danneel child biologically. You did call her mom, though. Your mother had dropped you off at Jensen’s when you were just a baby. That had been eighteen years ago. You’d met Danneel in 2007. It had been a while since your father had met someone and you knew he was seeing someone, but you hadn’t gotten to meet her until about a year after they had started dating. You were seven at the time and loved her instantly. When you turned nine, Danneel and your father were expecting their first child and you finally got your wish for a little sister. When you turned thirteen, you got two more siblings and you loved them all unconditionally.

You would do anything for them. Which is why you were in your current situation. “You remember the store Mom went in, right JJ,” you asked her quickly.

“Yeah, the Victoria Secret store,” she replied.

“Good, take your brother and sister into the store and find Mom, okay? Tell her that we need to be leaving soon,” you gave your sister a tight smile, trying to keep calm.

You watched as they left through the back of the music store. You watched as some of the paps went to follow and you had to think fast. You started playing the piano in a rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody accompanied with the singing. That certainly drew the paps eyes. They swarmed you and you inwardly cringed. You hated singing and playing any instrument in front of anyone, let alone paparazzi.

As you finished the small segment of the song, you stood from the piano and tried to make your way out of the store, but there was no out. Your breath picked up slightly. You hated being trapped. The paps just kept shouting questions at you. Some of them on how you learned to play the piano and sing, others on very personal matters, others you couldn’t distinguish. “I need to go-please.”

You tried to push through the paps, but they kept pushing you back. “P-please, I need to leave. I have-I have to go,” you whispered.

They kept shouting questions and kept preventing you from leaving. Your breathing continued to get faster as tears started to prickle at your eyes. You don’t know how long it was until someone was pushing their way through the crown and putting an arm around your shoulder, shouting back at the paps and forcing his way through the waves of men and women trying to get a story.

Once you were a safe distance from the store, the person stopped walking. “Hey sweetheart, are you alright,” he asked.

“Daddy,” you buried your head in his chest and wrapped your arms around him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you just as tight, placing his chin on the top of your head and talking calmly to you.

“It’s okay, don’t work yourself up. I’m sorry they attacked you like that. I thought y’all would be fine for a couple of hours by yourselves,” he hugged you even closer, running a hand over your back in an attempt to ground you.

“They-they just came out of nowhere and I was-I was with JJ and the twins and I knew that they would be scared if they stayed and I told them find Mom and then some of the paps wanted to follow them so I had to distract them and then they just all crowded me and they wouldn’t let me out and they just kept coming and screaming at me,” you sobbed slightly, holding your dad tighter.

“I’m sorry baby. I should have been there sooner.”

“Are Mom and the kids okay,” you asked after a quiet moment.

“They are just fine. They’re waiting in the car. Dani’s worried about you,” your father responded, pulling away from you slightly. “Ready to go, kid?”

A couple of weeks passed and you were finally feeling less afraid of leaving the house. As you walked through the door of the house after your classes, you were met with an eight year old running into your legs followed by the four year olds stumbling over each other as they ran towards you. “Hello, what’s the occasion for you all to attack me the second I get in the house,” you raised an eyebrow at your parents as they rounded the corner with smiles on their faces.

“Mommy and Daddy can’t take us to the park and said that maybe you could! They have work,” Arrow smiles up at you.

You chuckle but nod. “Hmm, I’ll have to check my schedule. Let’s see, I did have that scheduled tickle monster attack for my siblings at 3 PM, but I guess I could bump that up in order to take y’all to the park, Munchkin,” you raced towards JJ and picked her up, tickling her relentlessly.

“No, stop it! (Y/N),” she whined. You laughed and put her down.

You turned to your parents and smiled, “when should I be expecting y’all back?”

“We will be going to dinner at Jared’s house around seven. Do you think you could bring your siblings over? Dani and I will be coming directly from work.”

“Sure, Dad. We’ll go to the park, maybe get a light snack and either do something in town or come back here until it’s time to come over for Dinner,” you stated.

“Great, thanks baby, you’re the best,” he responded, placing a kiss on your head and doing the same to your siblings.

“Really, you’re amazing. I don’t know what we would do without you,” Dani added as she brought you into a huge hug while kissing the top of your head.

“Mom, it’s not a big deal. I love watching out for the little ones. They remind me of the energy I use to have and wish I could get back.”

“Don’t we all,” she responded.

“Alright, Miss JJ, I need to change and then we’ll head out. Help your brother and sister with their shoes,” you called out. An excited ‘okay’ was called back to you and you went to your room to change.

“JJ, don’t go to far away. I need to be able to keep an eye on you,” you called as you pushed the twins on the swings and JJ played around with a couple of the other kids at the park.

“Single mom,” the woman next to you asked.

You laughed slightly, “no, oldest sibling that only has two hands.”

“Think of it this way, the day you have your own family, it will come much easier after doing all of this now,” she responded, “and I’m speaking from experience.”

“I would hope so.”

JJ came running back over, “can we go get snacks,” she asked, face flushed from the running around she did.

“Yes, please (Y/N),” Arrow yelled, clapping her hands.

“Snacks,” Zep asked.

“Okay then, let’s go find a place to get something to tide you over to dinner.” You grabbed the twins hands and instructed JJ to walk close to you.

You walked a couple of blocks until you found a place to go. “How about we get ice cream? Just don’t tell Mom and Dad,” you winked at JJ.

“Yes,” the twins shouted. JJ nodded, bouncing on her feet. You decided to save yourself some trouble and sit the twins down with JJ in charge of making sure they don’t get up. You went to get the ice cream for the four of you.

You paid for the ice creams and sat a table. JJ took a huge bite out of her cone. You set your ice cream aside and get Zep and Arrow ready to eat theirs by trying to protect their clothes the best you could. Finally, you gave them the cups of ice cream and turned to yours, taking a bite. “Try not to get it on your clothes, Jay.”

You spent a couple of hours walking around town until it was about six twenty. “Okay, who wants to go see Uncle Jared and everyone else,” you asked. You got variation of happy sounds so you headed towards the house.

You were almost there when things turned sideways. You tried not to stop, but they swarmed you. You gave your phone to JJ with your dad’s number already dialed. You put had her get on your back. You put a twin on each hip and hugged them close and they returned the favor by burying into you. The second you heard one of the twins start crying, you lost it.

“HEY! BACK THE HELL UP, YOU ARE SCARING THE CHILDREN,” you yelled. The paparazzi went quiet, but you didn’t stop. “You guys would do anything to get a damn story and I’m fucking tired of it! There are better ways to get your stories than ganging up on people! Back the hell up and let me through or I swear to God it’s not going to be pretty,” you glared at the paps in front of you.

They moved slowly to let you through. JJ quietly handed your phone to you as you moved through the crowd who was slowly starting to get louder. “Dad, yeah. I’m three blocks away. Concord Street. Please hurry, I think they’re gonna start up again,” you quietly whispered through the phone.

Not only were the paps freaking your sibling out, but they were freaking you out, but you didn’t get to hide away from them because you were protecting your siblings. You sure as hell weren’t going to let them be even more freaked out by the jackasses.

You backed up from the paps-who were starting their shouting again. “You want a story? Why don’t you write about how paparazzi don’t understand the term ‘personal space’ or how the paparazzi are willing to scare the hell out of three children in order to try and get the juiciest story? I don’t care if you swarm me when I’m alone, but don’t you dare do it when I have my siblings with me! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

More questions were shouted your way and you ignored them. “You wonder why no one wants to talk to you and this is why. You take and take and take and never give back. You do anything for a story that isn’t even true. You twist the words and situations and you give bad reputations to people who deserve so much better than that. Fuck off and stop scaring my family,” you growled, chancing a look behind you to see your father, Jared, and Misha hurrying towards you.

You placed Arrow and Zep down and they ran to your father. You let Misha take JJ and Jared took care of you. Before you could completely walk away, you turned back and got out of Jared’s grip. “And another thing, why don’t you try being decent enough human beings to try and get the stories straight. Stop scaring the shit out of people and book an appointment to talk to someone. Or is that too complicated for you to follow? You should all be fucking ashamed of yourselves! You made children cry, you scarred them and for what? For me to yell at you? For me to yell at you and you to make up a story about how mentally unstable I am? To shine a bad rep on my family? Yeah you should be fucking ashamed,” you growled and let Jared lead you away.

You climbed into the car, biting your lip. All attempts to talk to you slowly died out once you got to Jared’s house. You quickly got out of the car and walked into the house. You bypassed Dani and the others, heading straight for a bathroom. You locked the door behind you and looked into the mirror. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying.

You wiped your tears and let out a couple of shaky breaths. You turned the sink on and splashed your face multiple times before wiping it off. You looked at your form in the mirror, seeing the shaking easily and you took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

A knock shook you out of your head. “Just a minute,” you called out quietly.

“It’s Tom, open the door, Ackles.”

You debated for a minute before unlocking the door to let him in. He walked in, closing and locking the door behind him. You had sat leaning on the cabinet before Tom had turned to look at you. He joined you on the floor, sitting close enough so that the sides of your bodies barely touched.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Tom spoke. “They don’t know when to stop. They don’t know boundaries and they think that they can do anything. I’m scared of them too. I hate being in the spotlight. It’s okay to be afraid,” he stated.

You leaned a head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist, “I know...it’s just like they’ve been targeting me and Jay and Arrow and Zep and they freak me out but I can’t show that to my siblings or else they would be even more scared. So I push it back and handle it. Then it all catches up and it crashes down all at once,” you whispered back. Tom’s arm pulled you closer, his head resting on top of yours.

“It’s going to be okay. They’ll find someone else to chase after soon enough.”

“But they shouldn’t! It’s fucked what they’re doing and they know it. They made all three of my siblings cry today, Tom! That’s not alright,” you brought a hand to your face, wiping away your tears.

“I know that. Them making you cry isn’t alright either...but there’s not much we can do about it. We just have to keep moving on and making sure you and your siblings are alright.”

You sighed and nodded slightly. “Yeah...but I need a moment to pull myself together,” you responded.

“And I’m right here to help you get it together.”

Everyone had decided to stay at Jared’s for the night. He had plenty of rooms to share anyway. You couldn’t sleep though. The paparazzi swarm had really gotten to you. Slowly over dinner, you had forgotten about it, even if it was just for a little while, but now it was coming back full force.

You got yourself up from the bed and quietly made your way to the kitchen. You grabbed a glass and filled it with water. You sighed and leaned against the counter. “Couldn’t sleep,” Tom asked from the doorway. His tall frame was covered in shadows.

You shook your head. “My brain won’t shut off,” you whispered.

Tom walked into the kitchen and began getting things out from the cupboards. “I have an idea.”

You shook your head as Tom started putting ingredients into a bowl. “You are insane, Thomas Padalecki,” you laughed and started to help him.

You relaxed into the couch, Tom sitting beside you as you both were eating the cookies you’d made and were drinking the milk. “I’m surprised, they actually taste good,” you looked at Tom.

He fake gasped and placed a hand to his heart, “I’m offended. I am a wonderful cook and baker.”

“The last time you cooked, you burned the pasta.”

“That was one time,” he quietly exclaimed. He placed an arm over your shoulder and leaned further against the couch.

You relaxed even more against him, feeling sleep pull you in. “Thanks for this, Tom. You didn’t have to stay and put up with me,” you yawned.

“I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile on your face,” he responded as you fell into the arms of sleep.

You slowly woke to the sound of muttering voices. As you slowly became aware of everything around you, you felt the arm around your waist. You could also feel the mattress below you moving….wait, that wasn’t a mattress. You opened your eyes and squinted at the light. Somehow during the night, you and Tom had moved to lay fully onto the couch with you on top of Tom.

The voices got slightly louder as they entered from another room. “We should wake them up,” your father stated.

“It looks like they had a long night, Jens, let them sleep,” Gen replied.

“Yeah, let them sleep,” Tom’s chest rumbled under you. His voice was deeper from lack of use. His arm around you tightened slightly as he started to doze off again.

You flushed slightly and bit your lip. “You should see your faces,” Misha lost it. Curious, you looked over the couch to where your father and Jared had varying degrees of shock, excitement, and amusement on their faces.

“Your faces are kind of funny,” you mumbled and placed your head back on Tom’s chest, feeling the tiredness sink in again.

“Oh no you don’t,” your father responded. “Time to go (Y/N).”

“I don’t want to,” you grumbled and snuggled more into Tom’s chest, wishing to go back to sleep. You heard multiple choked laughs at the response. You assumed your father was giving them a look that made them try to be serious.

“Tom, (Y/N) needs to go,” Misha stated.

“No,” he responded.

You laughed quietly. “We can do this again sometime. We can talk later,” you whispered, not really wanting to make your father angry.

Tom made a sad noise but his arm slowly released you. He sighed and sat up. Because you were on his chest, you went with him. “Hello there,” he smirked as your faces were inches from each other.

“H-Hey. Um, I have to-I’ve got to g-go,” you quickly got off Tom and leaned down to give him an awkward hug. “Talk to you later,” you rushed.

“Yeah,” he smiled genuinely. “Maybe next time we won’t be so rudely interrupted,” he smirked.

Your face flushed even redder and you made a couple of unintelligible sounds. “I-uh-I d-don’t think-that’s not-I-bye Tom,” you stuttered and hurried out of the room, catching small glimpses of the adults’ faces. Most were close to cracking up. Jared had a proud but amused look on his face and Jensen’s was stone hard. This was going to be a fun ride home.

Supernaturalites

@dragon-star-light @lifelovelaughangell123 @clarinette07 @jessikared97 @the-wintergirl

[swanimagines]

Masterlist

You can find all my written works here c: In case you want to read more of my DBH writings, check my old DBH imagine blog masterlist! Link

And PLEASE check my fandom list before requesting! I have stated there if there’s characters I don’t write for or how many seasons I have watched some TV series. + It would be nice if you checked out the rules before requesting.

CLICK HERE TO VIEW ALL MY WORKS

ASSASSIN’S CREED

Ezio Auditore

Disgrace to the Creed

Oh, Sweet Death

ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE

Audrey

Save It for Later

Kida

I Love You

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Madame de Garderobe

Imagine sneaking into the castle and Madame de Garderobe giving you a makeover

BIG HERO 6

Tadashi Hamada

Understanding

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN

General/multiple

Short reader headcanons

Your Choice

Connor

Thank You

Imagine pampering Connor after him having a rough day at work

Imagine Connor helping you when you have a heart attack

Little One

Before Lunch

A Shooting Star

Imagine dating Connor, Hank’s son

Imagine telling your father, Hank, about your relationship with Connor

Imagine feeling like siblings with Connor

Here For You

To Feel

Imagine Connor being interested in your love for pottery

Daniel

Daniel & the reader’s daughter headcanons

PreDBH! Daniel x reader headcanons

Don’t forget

Fixed (2) (ignore the title in part 2)

Fear

Imagine Daniel having a separation anxiety without you

Imagine Daniel feeling secret jealously over you, but he acts like he hates you

Hank (platonic)

Imagine being Hank’s daughter and him being super protective over you because of what happened to Cole

Ralph

Not Alone

Imagine Ralph calling you by your favourite flower and bringing you flowers every day

Imagine Ralph seeing you pass out because you’re sick

Friends

Rupert

Healing

Not from Tennessee

Markus

Someone to Care For

Hope

North

Imagine North being in love with you, a human, and helping you while you’re sick

Simon

Headcanons with an s/o who has had a hard time with their family

EDWARD SCISSORHANDS

Edward

Safety

FANTASTIC BEASTS

Newt Scamander

Worried

Being a Magizoologist

Imagine Newt shyly asking you to the Yule Ball

Theseus

Believer

GOTHAM

Bruce Wayne

Surprises

A Confession

Edward Nygma

Dating Game

A Silent Voice

Riddles and Secrets

Imagine being a child, killing your abusive parents, bonding with Ed in Arkham and him adopting you

Jerome Valeska

Fake text messages (also fits for Jeremiah)

Prince of Crime

A Helpless Duckling

Living with a Crazy

A Lucky Day

Imagine your big brother Jim finding out you date Jerome Valeska

Roy

Street Rat

Oswald Cobblepot

A Dear Friend

A Songbird

Everything She Needs - aaand part 2

Watch Me

The Loved and the Damned

Imagine being a kindergarten teacher, Oswald never hearing you yell, but then he sees you yell at the kids to get them pay attention

Sid

Just A Scratch

HARRY POTTER

Fred Weasley

A promise

Ron Weasley (platonic)

A friend

Remus Lupin

Children’s Stories

Oliver Wood

Waffles and Walnuts

MARVEL’S SPIDER-MAN (PS4)

Peter Parker

Dating headcanons

Plastic look-a-like

Secrets

Giving Hope

Imagine dating Spider-Man, without knowing who he is in real life

MCU

Peter Parker

About a Girl in the Tower

Carol Danvers

Imagine Carol meeting you again after you were dusted in the Snap

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

General/Multiple

Jealousy preferences

The boys having a crush on the reader

Peter Pevensie

More than enough

Between the Distances

Coming Home

Finally Home

Edmund Pevensie

The King, the Wound and the Princess

Adding Shadows

Her King

Prince Caspian

Dating Prince Caspian would include...

Forgotten

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

Elizabeth Swann

A Strong Heart

Will Turner

The Odds of Loving

THE 100

John Murphy

Fierce

Betrayal

Imagine running away with Murphy

One Day

Raven Reyes

1 AM

SLY COOPER

General

Imagine being a doctor and traveling back in time to treat Sly Cooper in ancient Egypt

WATCH DOGS

Aiden

General Aiden x reader headcanons

Plastic

Sleepy-head

Things Never Said

Aiden Drabble

Marcus

Imagine being an informator for DedSec and ending up helping Retr0 with one of his jobs

Wrench

Family

Hidden

Headcanons with an s/o who loves his mask

Painful Memories

Headcanons with a nonbinary reader who loves piercings

Headcanons with an attentive reader

Imagine Wrench seeing you after 3 weeks, when he thought you were dead Headcanons with a reader who continuously gets catcalled because she is showing her skin 

[boogiewrites]

Don’t Call Her Annie 14

Title: Revelation & Revelry

Characters: Jim Hopper x Reader (OFC)

Word Count: 4700+

Summary:  Annette Horowitz is Joyce’s younger sister. She hasn’t been the perfect sibling or aunt but after she finds out Will is missing, she finds herself crashing back into Hawkins to do everything in her power to help, driven by a need to prove herself. With the tension finally broken in a confession of feelings, she and Hopper are reminded of what it’s like to feel young and in love. Is the life experience since their youth enough to make it work out this time around?

Notes: Two dorks in love.The kids. Domestic Fluffs.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

You can check out my other work on My Masterlist.

Your pen taps against the legal pad on the counter in front of you to the beat of the weeks Top 40 hits. The rain is coming down outside the record shop, you're in the post-lunch lull, your attention focused on reading an article in The Rolling Stone. The bell chimes from the door and you're plucked out of your thoughts and back into your body. It'd been three days since you'd seen him last. That last being before you'd driven home on your bike from the farm. The smile blooms across your face as you turn to face him

"Afternoon, Chief." you practically sing out, putting one hand on your hip.

"Afternoon Annette," he says with a tip of his hat. His eyes move around the open space of the shop. "You by yourself today?" he asks low, voice mischievious.

"Depends on who's askin'." you retort with a small laugh, moving towards the front door.

"Chief of Police would like a word with you." he says with a grin full of bad intentions.

You flip the sign on the door without looking at it and keep your narrowed eyes on him until you pass, heading to the back office. "Just in time for my break." you grin. "You've got 15 minutes, Chief." you say as he walks into the small office behind you after unlocking it. You close it back and his lips are on yours immediately. You clumsily hit the wall to turn on the light. You toss his hat onto the desk as he pushes you against the door. You enthusiastically mess up his hair with your roaming fingers.

"Mmph...missed you." his lips fumble against your own between kisses, his fingers buried in your hair.

"Missed you." you purr back, your arms tightening around him.

"Can't stop thinkin' about you." he groans, kisses turning to loud exaggerated smooches as he pecks them down your neck. "I saw you walkin' into work this morning and couldn't stop thinking about how you looked in this." he chomps down on your shoulder with a low, rumbling noise. You chuckle at how his facial hair tickles when your hair is pulled back, leaving the sensitive skin vulnerable. "You know how good it feels to finally admit that?" You let out a content hum as his mouth brushes against your ear.

"I have an idea." you sigh out, he huffs a laugh out against your skin.

"And now I get to finally do this..." his voice drops low and his hands slide up the outside of your thighs and back to grab big pawfuls of your ass. You laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck before pulled back and showing his strung-out expression, lip between his teeth at you.

"I've been waiting for you to do that too." you say with a suggestive tone, sharing the same expression he wore. He looks over your body in the short sleeved burgundy print, thin fabric sundress, hands kneading your hips. "Although I was hoping you'd do it on a day I wasn't wearing anything under this dress." you give him a sly closed mouth smile.

"Is that something you do often?" he inquires with a raised eyebrow.

"You've been staring at my ass, you tell me." you say with a chuckle, raising your chin to kiss him.

He growls and his hands go back to roughly grab your cheeks. "You never wore anything under your dresses in my dreams." he gave a playful retort, grinning down at you.

"Then I'll have to wear my favorite dress for you next time I see you."  you purr.

"Oh? Why's that?" he asks in a rumble, kissing you softly.

"Because it's really tight across my tits and I don't wear a bra with it." you bite out in a whiney whisper that makes him noisy exhale. "And no panties if you promise to fuck me like you did in those dreams of yours." you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and flick your tongue across it.

"Fuck, why you doin' this to me Ann?" he asks with a laugh, shaking his head. "That mouth is just as dirty as it was in my dreams, that's for damn sure." he chuckles as he returns to kissing you.

"Oh it is filthy." you say, shaking your head and an animated expression of enthusiasm followed by a laugh.

"When can I see you again? Panties or no panties, when can I see you again?" his tone more sweet, a deep laugh bubbling out of him. He goes back to his hands on your hips, distancing himself more, except for his lips which were moving close to your ear.

"Since the promotion I work afternoons and I'm out by 8, off Wednesdays, work Friday nights, Saturday mornings, off Sundays."

"I wanna see ya Sunday then." he gruffly requests, pulling back to look at you while he spoke.

"You can find the time real easy now that you know you'll be getting some, huh?" you laugh, your nose scrunching up at him.

"Nah. I wish." he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. "Since it's so close to the kids going back to school I'm letting El have the others over for game night at the cabin. Tell me this isn't a massive mistake, please." he asks, taking one of your hands in his with a grin and nervous chuckle.

"I've hosted it plenty at Joyce's. It'll be loud but you can do it. Especially with me there to run interference." you give him a supportive peck on the lips. "Let them have one room to themselves, " you shrug and narrow your eyes flirtatiously at him. "We hide out in the other room." you say slowly, one eyebrow raising.

"And I thought I would have trouble with the kids." he scolds in a deep voice, his finger coming up to point into your face.

"If you think I'm not going to indulge in some very old fantasies of sneaking around and making out with you then you don't know me very well." you admit with a warm laugh. "Also you owe me for helping you with this." you smirk and tilt your head for a moment as you shrug.

"That's reasonable." he grins and picks up his hat, adjusting it on his head.

"I'm a reasonable woman." you state obviously. Smoothing out his shirt along with the hair down around his ears.

"Very much so." he admits with another kiss. "I'll see you Sunday then?"

"Of course. You can just ask me these things now, Jim. Since we're...ya know" you move your finger back and forth between the two of you, "Doing whatever this is." you say with the shake of your head, turning the knob of the door behind you.  He puts his hand on the door before you open it. His other hands holds your face again, as you look up at him.

"I guess we should make our intentions clear shouldn't we?" he says quietly, looking over your face.

"Now is as good of a time as any." you say supportively.

"I want us to be together," he states with no hesitation. "Exclusively." he adds in an obvious tone. "Because of El I don't think it would be best to be open about it just yet." he says, looking away from you with unease.

"I totally agree." you let him know quickly, as you saw he was afraid you might take offense. He exhales noticeably.

"Oh, thank God." he says with a huff of a laugh.

"Reasonable, remember?" you explain, motioning to yourself with your hands. "You gotta protect the girl, I get it, I agree. I take no offense." you say sweetly, kissing him. "I don't want anyone else but you anyway so don't worry about it." you instruct, your hand patting his chest. "But can I tell Joyce?" you ask with a tense joking smile.

"Jesus, of course Annie." he shakes his head is brow furrowed."Wait, you haven't told her yet?" he says with a higher pitched amused laugh. "I wanted to make sure I knew what was going on exactly before I told her. She'll have a ton of questions so I wanted answers. For her sake and mine." you add with raised brows and a smile.

"Well tell her I said I finally manned up. And that I love you and you're mine and that's all she needs to know." he hugs you, entrapping your arms.

"If only it was that easy." you say wistfully as he kisses you again with a squeeze.

"Never is, is it?" he nods and laughs, kissing your head and letting you go. "I'm gonna get back to work." he pecks you again. "You call me, alright? Don't be a stranger." he says against your lips, one last noisy smooch and he reaches for the doorknob himself.

"I'll miss ya Chief." you coo at him, tugging him by the hand and planting one last kiss on him before you went back to reality.  He raises an eyebrow at you with a charming smile. "Love you. Behave yourself." you instruct sweetly with a pat to his butt.

"Love you too." he says in the sweetest way, humming against your lips. "I'd tell you to behave but there's no point is there?" he chuckles against you one last time and sighs, one last long press against your lips.

"Smart man." you flirt, your hand squeezing his butt one last time. "Some of us have to work for a livin', get outta here!" you call out after him your voice teasing but your eyes hearts, leaning against the door frame. He waves his hand at you but doesn't turn back, but you see his shoulders moving as he laughs, you see him suck in his bottom lip to suppress his smile as he walks down the street and out of sight. ------------------------------------------------------------ You drive quickly to Joyce's from work so you can have time to talk to her before the boys get home from school. You're sitting at the kitchen table, chewing the inside of your cheek and not making eye contact. She slides a glass of water in front of you and sits next to you.

"What's wrong?" she asks before you even look at her.

"Nothing." She groans aggressively at you, she was still adorable even when she tried to look mean. "It actually is nothing. For the first time in a long time there's nothing really wrong." you laugh a little crazily at the thought. You sigh and meet her very intrigued stare.

"What happened?" her tone casual, leaning in closer to you, giving you her ear.

"Uh..." you say, snorting, "A few things happened?" your voice high pitched, running your fingers through your hair. "Well, just one big thing, really." you close your eyes and let the laugh move your body.

"You're lying." she says fast and shoves your arm.

"I didn't say-" you retaliate loudly, still laughing and leaning on the table with your arms.

"You two finally-" she says, her words moving fast, her hand flat on the table as she leans in.

"We did." you say erupting into laughter.

She slaps your arm a few times in her enthusiasm, meaning no harm by it. "ANNIE!" she hisses in excitement too close to your face. "You better NOT be kidding!" she scolds, her lips pursed, her finger pointing at you aggressively.

"I'm not! Why the hell would I lie about this?"

"I don't know-I just-" she shakes her head as if her operating system was failing.

"He told me he loved me." you say with a scrunched nose and in a deep bashful tone, waiting for her to hit you again. Huge grin planted on your face.

"HE WHAT?!" she puts her hand on her chest. "When? Where?" she shakes her head and hands back and forth, clearing her mind. "Just tell me EVERYTHING." she demands, pulling her chair right next to you like you used to when you'd tell her about crushes you had when you were kids.

You tell her everything. -------------------------------------------- Jonathan is standing in the kitchen, his eyes wide at the way his mom had just shouted his name and demanded he come immediately into the kitchen. She pats the table top by the seat on her unoccupied side. She speaks quietly as Will has gone into his room after being chirped at lovingly by her already.

"I know I didn't raise you to be a man who gambles but it seems that a bet we made has finally been settled."

His eyes snap over to you. You're not surprised at the bet's existence, not with the way Joyce looked at you after she saw your face anytime Hopper would talk to you. Not when Jonathan had called you both out in the earliest stages last summer, you knew they had to have many snarky conversations about the two of you.

"Who said it first?" he asks.

"It being," you lower your voice "I love you?" you ask, leaning in towards the table.

"Yeah." he nods obviously.

"Technically he did. He said the words first."

"So we were both right on that one." he says as he swings his face over to Joyce for a moment. She nods in agreement.

"I can't believe you two." you say with a chuckle, crossing your arms and leaning back in the seat, shaking your head.

"I can't believe you two." Jonathan smartly replies back. "I lost my bet on it taking past the year marker of the incident for you two to finally admit it." he states quietly, motioning over to his mother.

"I guess that means you took the under?" you ask as Joyce with a raised eyebrow.

"I just thought ya know, that maybe one of you would finally break with the summer heat and all. Since I saw how you reacted to him last summer." she says with a smirk, her chin lowering slightly in a tease. Jonathan's eyes narrow as he doesn't know about the lumberjack incident and you'd like to keep it that way.

"Don't ask, hun. Trust me, you don't wanna know." you say with a huff of laughter, shaking an open palm at him. ---------------------------- You kick the door to the cabin, your arms full of paper bags from the grocery store

"I let everyone in even though you had the key." El says, walking up to you from the group sitting around the tv.

"Oh that's fine, don't worry about it, sweetie." you say, patting her on the back as you set the bags on the counter.

"I had to use my powers to do it." she states, her eyes pointed up at you. You respond with a furrowed brow in question at her.

"Hopper doesn't like it when I use my powers in front of other people." she whispers, as you lean in to her slightly.

"Well they already know about your powers, right? No one who doesn't know about the lab saw did they?"

"No." she says, eyes darting about the kitchen.

"I don't think he'd be mad about that." you give her a comforting smile and shrug. "How about..." you begin with a grin, "if he doesn't ask about it, we just won't bring it up?" you offer to cheer her up. "And if he does ask, be honest. But I'll back you up, alright?" you say, bumping her with your hip as you hug her shoulders with one arm for a moment.

"Alright." she says with a nod.

"Took you long enough, Annette!" Dustin shouts from the couch where he and Lucas are playing a video game.

"Better watch that mouth Henderson or you're not gonna get what's in these bags." you scold playfully.

"What's in the bags?"

"Well looks like we've got, junk food. Junk Food. And beer." you laugh at the last addition.

"Ann you always come through." Dustin praises, nodding, leaning forward towards the screen.

"Beer's for me so don't get too excited, kid." you chuckle, putting away the candy, cakes and frozen food.

"I'm bringing in the pizza so wrap that up if you wanna eat." you say, motioning your hand to the tv as you walk across the room to your bike with the small trunk on the back, big enough to sit medium pizzas in. You plop them on the table and walk into the kitchen. The Will standing back with El, as Dustin stormed the table, slamming himself into a seat clumsily, as Lucas pushed him trying to get to the other set. Mike is handing pieces to Will who hands it to El. "Can you behave while I go out and out and smoke?" you ask, pulling the pack out of the back of your denim shorts. "Keep them in line for me, sweetheart?" you ask El with a wink as she smiles mischievously and takes bites of pizza clumsily.

You light your cigarette and jump slightly as you hear the door behind you to see Will following you out.

"Hey baby-" your voice lilts. "Oh, wait.  I won't call you that around them if you don't want by the way. Old habits die hard." you say with a shrug, inhaling.

He gives you a small sweet laugh, his shoulder shrugging. "No, it's fine I guess." he asks, slowly standing next to you, both looking out into the woods.

"Something bothering you, hun?" you ask, bumping him with your elbow. You couldn't believe how tall he'd gotten in the last few months.

"No, I'm fine." he says, not looking at you. "I just overheard you and mom and Jonathan in the kitchen the other day and I wanted to know if that was something I should keep to myself or-?" he asks, now looking up at you with narrowing eyes in question.

"Oh no, what was it I was running my big mouth about now?" you ask lightheartedly.

"You and Hopper." he says quietly.

"Oh hell." you say with a laughing, sputtering out smoke. "You're an angel for asking me first so thank you." you say sharing a smile with your nephew. "You haven't mentioned it to anyone have you?"

"No, that's why I was asking. I knew he was going to be here later and I wanted to be smart about it.

"This is you being very smart about it." you nod enthusiastically. "I hate to ask you to keep a secret for me, because that's kind of jerk thing to do." you say with a slight frown, lowering your voice. "We are keeping it a secret though." you say with a sigh. "If it doesn't work out we don't' want to bother El with it and he's such a prominent figure in town and you know how people talk-" he cuts you off as you show your anxiety through the speed of your words.

"I get it." he says with a toothy grin, holding his hand out at you as if you stop you. "I won't tell her." he says nodding his head at you. "Or anyone else, but that's kinda obvious." he says with a quiet chuckle.

"Ugh. Thank you." you say, smooching the top of his head.

"Okay now that you can't do in front of them." he says laugh and pushing you away.

"That's fair. Auntie Ann just loves ya baby." you say with a laugh and he opens the door to his friends. ------------------------------------------------------- As soon as Jim gets home he's barking at the kids and you're rolling your eyes, hand on your hip watching him point and give smug glares to back talk.

He sweetly squats down next to the chair El is in and speaks to her softly, ruffling her hair and rising.

"Hey. What'd I tell you about feet on the table?" he groans as he smacks Dustin's feet as he makes his way through them, making them tidy their space and be quieter, turning down the tv himself.

"I bet you're a blast at parties." you say with a smirk. As he looks up at you under a heavy brow with an annoyed look on his face.

"Can you not make these kids behave?" he asks, playfully defensive, a grin on his face now that he's talking to you. He works to take off his belt and hat.

"They were behaving." you say with a shake of your head. "They were also happy and now you gone and spread your grump onto everyone." you say with a chuckle.

"You let them act like that and the place'll be a mess later."

"Yeah and you tell them to clean up before they leave. You end up a handful of dishes, and your garbage taken out, it's not a big deal." you explain, smug look on your face in the delivery of your personal experience with the kids as proof you were correct.

"And you've got them to do that before?"

"Every time at Joyce's," you say obviously, moving your hand out to emphasize your point.

He looks you up and down and grunts at you, moving to the fridge as you go to bring pizza boxes into the kitchen to clean up a bit. He stands arm to arm with you by the sink, taking a piece of pizza from the stack of boxes.

"Remind me," he begins casually, shutting the box and leaning in close as he turns back around and says quietly, "To kiss you later for bringing beer." he settles back on the countertop and his stomach moves with laughter, his face lazy and chewing.

"Don't have to ask me twice," you say with a grin, washing the last dish in the sink. "Let's get these kids in the other room. Let them get their game going, we get the tv. I finally get to eat." you say with a with a smile, turning and moving to the group of kids.

"Alright, who wants to get away from the mean ass bear-" you moved back to Jim who is standing in the kitchen looking offended while the kids snicker.

"Hey!" he says in defense of himself, not moving but glaring just the same.

"And get the game started in the other room so you can yell and I can shut the door so Hopper doesn't also start yelling because you're too loud and then I yell because he's yelling and everyone yelling at once and it turns into a bad Monty Python sketch and no one wants that." you say with a strong nod and a loud clasping together of your hands. Everyone but Dustin looks confused who is giving you a nod of approval at your reference. ------------------------------------------- The kids are deep into a dungeon, you believe you heard them say in their heated shouting when you'd pulled the door to.

You run your fingers through Jim's hair as you stand behind the couch, scratching his scalps as he lets out a deep groan. "You wanna come smoke with me, handsome?" you ask, looking down at his tired face, eyes moving behind his lids as your pet him.

He stands on the far end of the porch, you shut but doors behind you as he hands you a cigarette as you approach him.

"The air's starting to feel different isn't it?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific." he chuckles, mumbling through the cigarette between his lips.

"It's near the end of summer." you take a deep breath and cross your arms, listening to the crickets. "You can feel that little extra chill in the wind at night." you explain, leaning closer in as you speak, hugging your leather jacket that was sitting on your shoulders over your thin and soft from wear, concert tee.

He hums. "When you put it that way it makes sense." he nods.

"The air doesn't feel like this in the city." you ask, your gaze far away, all the way to New York in your mind.

"No it does not." he says slowly, half smiling at your musing.

"It's one of the first things I realized when I came back." you say with a lazy smile. "I never slowed down enough to feel a breeze or take a few deep breaths and take in the air when I was away from here." you say with a sigh, taking another drag.

"Things move slower here. Gives you the chance to breathe."

"I didn't appreciate it when I was younger." you shake your head with a grin. "But now I do." you let out another happy sigh, all your weight leaning to one side.

"Yeah." he groans in agreement. "Slowing down isn't exactly a young man's game." he chuckles, putting his arm around your shoulder.

"It seems like no matter how slow the place you live in is, kids always make time speed up, don't they?" you laugh, taking a drag and thinking about how the past, going on two years now, had flown by. "I mean they start school in less than a month." you say with an already exasperated tone.

"Believe me, I know." he says, taking a particularly long drag.

"Oh, are you nervous about it, Daddy?" you ask in a baby talk and bump him with your hip.

He gives you one of those deep low laughs and shakes his finger at you with a scolding expression.

You snort in a laugh when you exhale, your shoulders shaking with it. "I've done it with the boys, there's no need to worry about it. It's overwhelming at first when you see all the things you have to get done, but as you're actually doing it, it's not that bad. Especially if the kids are excited." you say with a sweet smile, remembering the year before. "And  I can help you with," you shrug, "Whatever you need, really." you say obviously, rolling your face his way.

"She's very excited." he says enthusiastically. "I'm scared shitless but she's very excited." he says very matter of factly then he starts laughing at himself.

"I'm nervous for her too. I'm being cautiously optimistic about it though." you offer as help to ease his worries, reaching up to hold the hand that rested on your shoulder. "She's very smart. Those kids in there love her to pieces and will watch out for her on the inside. She's got a whole village behind her, Jim, you can't give the kid a better fighting chance than you have." you praise him, knowing he needed it.

He moves his eyes to your face and a lazy smile grows as you give his hand a squeeze. He looks behind you. You knew the pinned down curtains blocked the view of the porch from the inside, and with two doors to get through and them engulfed in their imaginary world, you knew you had a degree of privacy.  He leans in to kiss you with a peck.

"That's for the beer." he says with a grin.

"You're welcome." you say as you roll your eyes at him playfully, pecking him back.

He tosses his cigarette and you mirror the motion. As you're about to turn back his way he's grabbed you and kissed you again. He gently walks your back against the wall of the cabin, hands in your hair.

You moan from the unexpectedness of the passion behind it. Your hands squeeze his strong arms as he keeps going in round after round of lips and tongue coming at you and you greedily accept it all. He pulls back, breathing heavily, thumbs on your cheeks.

"That's for being so sweet."

"Sweet? When was I sweet?" you ask breathless, your eyelashes fluttering up at him and he laughs at your stuttered delivery in your distracted state.

"Talkin' 'bout the stuff with the kids." he says obviously. "It's good to know I have your support." he says, kissing you much more sweetly, moving his hands delicately away from your face as he pulls away.

"Of course you do, Jim," you say with a minor pout. "Don't be silly. I only act like I don't like you." you tug him back down for a slow kiss that leads to a handsy make-out session that you let your younger self indulges in fully.

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Tags marked through won’t work! Sorry!

[malereaderrecs]

Young Reader (aka Parent Character) List

Key: M = Male reader N - Gender neutral reader T - Trans reader

Avengers Avengers Greetings from the Avengers base (+) M

Clint Barton Being Clint’s kid and acting a lot like Nat (+) N Clint talking to you, his child, when Laura finds your binder (+) T Joining your father Clint in fighting Thanos (+) N Being a kid living on the street that Clint adopts after the battle of New York (+) N Being Clint’s child would include... (+) N Being Natasha’s sibling and told by Clint that she’s gone (+) N

Loki Being Loki’s kid and going into battle with him (+) N Thor finding out Loki took you, a superpowered teen, in (+) N

Natasha Romanoff Going undercover as mother and son (+) M

Steve Rogers Being Steve’s son and going through your first heartbreak (+) M Being Steve’s son and him helping you deal with school stress (+) M Being Steve’s son and running away (+) M Being Steve’s son and having fire powers (+) M Would Include: Being Steve’s son (+) M Being like Steve’s son and getting hurt on a mission (+) M Being Steve’s son and worrying that you aren’t good enough (+) M

Stephen Strange Coming from an abusive home and Strange adopting you (+) M Being Strange’s kid and getting into a fight about magic (+) N

Tony Stark Headcanons: Coming out to your dad, Tony, as trans (+) M, T Headcanons: Being Tony’s kid and having depression (+) N Your dad Tony finding out you self harm (+) N Being Tony Stark’s stepkid (+) N Unfillable expectations (x son!reader) (+) M

Thor Being Jane’s kid and Thor’s step kid (+) N

Chicago Med/Fire/PD Antonio Dawson Being Antonio’s son and landing in Med (+) M Being Antonio’s kid and getting a binder (+) T

Criminal Minds Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner Being Hotch’s kid and getting suspended from school (+) N

DCEU Oliver Queen/Green Arrow Your older brother Oliver helping you through a panic attack (+) N

Doctor Who 9th Doctor The Doctor being like your father and taking care of you (+) M Meeting the Doctor as a child (+) N The Doctor being protective of you, a young trans man (+) M, T

Gotham Jim Gordon Headcanons: Being a street kid Jim adopted (+) N Being adopted by Jim and getting grounded (+) N Jim catching you, a street kid, in his apartment (+) N

Harry Potter Remus Lupin Being Lupin’s son and both of you surviving the Battle (+) M

House M.D Dr. House House introducing you, his trans son, to his team (+) M, T Being House’s kid and playing guitar at the hospital (+) N

The Old Guard Joe and Nicky Being young when you discovered your immortality and Joe and Nicky treating you like their kid (+) N Travelling with Joe and Nicky after they take you in (+) N Headcanons: Being part of the Old Guard and closest to Joe and Nicky (+) N

Once Upon A Time Henry Mills Having a sleepover with Henry (+) M Going on a date with Henry and getting interrupted (+) M Being Henry’s secret admirer (+) M

Peaky Blinders Tommy Shelby Being Tommy’s kid and coming out as trans (Part 1)(Part 2) M, T Being Tommy’s son and coming out as gay (+) M

Peaky Blinders Preference: Being a younger Blinder and calling them mom/dad (+) N

Sherlock BBC Mycroft Holmes Being Mycroft’s kid and having anxiety (+) N Being Mycroft’s son (+) M

Sherlock Holmes Being Sherlock’s son and coming out as trans (+) M, T Being Sherlock’s son (+) M Coming out to your dad Sherlock (+) N

Twilight Carlisle Cullen Being Bella’s trans younger brother and asking Carlisle to take you shopping (+) M, T Headcanons: Carlisle being a father figure to you (+) N Meeting Carlisle and Esme when they save you (+) N

White Collar Neal Caffrey Your dad Neal needing your help with a con (+) N

The Witcher Jaskier Headcanons: Being Jaskier’s child (+) N

X-Men Charles Xavier Being Charles’ son and having the same powers (+) M

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Our College Years - Dec 24th

Pairing:​ ​​Jensen​ ​x​ ​Reader AU

Warnings:​ none really.

Word​ ​Count:​​ 468

A/N:​​ ​This one is part of my College!Jensen one shot/drabble series AU but it can like all the others also be read as a stand alone.

It’s done for @webcricket’s advents challenge. I am a little behind but I decided to do this one for the Christmas Eve prompt. 

Unbetaed and fast written - All mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: Everyone in Jensen’s family is named Ackles, since well duh... but Jensen’s family is Samantha Ferris, Jim Beaver, Jared Padalecki and Felicia Day.

All of Y/N’s is named Collins except for her stepdad but they are Steven Williams, Kim Rhodes, Misha (we know this lol) and Alexander Calvert.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

MASTERLIST

You couldn’t remember ever being happier than you were Christmas Eve. Your mom’s were gushing about the prospect of becoming grandparents while cooking together.

Jared and Felicia hit it off with Misha and Alex right away, while Steven and Bobby spent the day bickering about a crip the two of them had quickly agreed they would build for their granddaughter. The how to on the other hand didn’t come as easy, but the two men genuinely appeared to like each other under the arguing so you didn’t pay much attention.

The food was amazing and everyone was all smile. You were so excited when you learned that Alex, Jared and Felicia had all applied to you, Jensen and Misha’s college. Your younger siblings wanted to be closer to you as well as their new niece.

After dinner you all went for a walk around the block, watching the beautifully lit houses and politely greeting the Ackles’ neighbors who seemed to have the same tradition. You smiled, wrapping your arms around Jensen’s waist, when he pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head.

“Are you tried?” he asked a little concerned, making you beam up at him.

“Yeah but it’s a good tired. Thank you for this Jay. I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas,” you sighed and Jensen’s face split into a huge grin.

“Maybe we can do this next year too? I mean it’s a long flight to Washington and I am sure everyone would wanna spend Christmas with Peanut.” A fond expression glimmered in his eyes as he gently placed his free hand over your growing belly. Both of you laughed when the baby kicked against his hand and you pressed a kiss to Jensen’s cheek.

“I think she agrees. But right now Mommy can’t wait to get back home and snuggle with Daddy on the couch watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa,” you giggled, making Jensen chuckle and pull you in front of him as he came to a stop.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Your heart almost stopped as you looked up into his adoring eyes, that almost appeared golden in the Christmas lights of the streets. Jensen gentle cupped your face with one hand wrapping the other around your waist, tugging you closer with a smile on his face.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N/N” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned down, brushing his lips over yours, before deepening the kiss. In the distance you heard your brothers and Jensen’s siblings whistle and cheer in mockery but you didn’t care. In that moment there was only Jensen and your love. He had truly made your Christmas a magical one even with finals, work and stress and you loved him all the more for it.

Jensen Tag Team 

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OCY Tag Team

@mrswhozeewhatsis @staticweekes @deansgirl215 @valerieshubin @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @anathewierdo @teamfreewill92 @gabriels-trix @ashlyn-98 @bradygabrielle-blog @16wiishes @multifandombackpack @kingkenzieo @daddy-kink-confirmed @mrspadalackles @my—heroine