#we are all just watching as we wait to take him into the vet

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Cute and Fluffy

Summary: The reader drops off a new patient for Dr. Winchester…

Pairing: vet!Dean x reader

Word Count: 700

Warnings: none

A/N: Enjoy!

_______________

“Well if it isn’t my favorite customer,” said Dean, waving you back and into one of the examination rooms. “What have you brought me today, heroine to all things cute and fluffy?”

“This is Champ,” you said setting the carry on down on the table. “At least that’s what we’re calling him down there.”

You opened up the door and put a treat down right outside. A pink little tongue tentatively stuck out and licked it before curling it into it’s mouth. You put a few more down to try and get the little guy to come out on his own, slowly but surely getting the malnourished pup onto the table.

“Hi Champ,” said Dean, bending down to give the scared dog a smile. Dean didn’t reach out to pet him, knowing how some of the rescue animals were when they were new. “He a biter?”

“No, sweetest little thing,” you said, holding a treat in your hand, Champ eating out of it. “Definitely underweight. He was covered in mats and scabs so we had to shave him down.”

Dean looked over the poor guy, taking a treat from you and letting him eat out of his hand as well before he placed a gentle touch on him, patting him softly.

“Probably has an infection. We’ll run some blood work and see about fixing this guy up,” said Dean. “What do you say? Want to get better and find a nice family Champ?”

The dog didn’t do anything really but did lick Dean’s finger. Dean chuckled and picked him up, taking him into the back.

Two Weeks Later

It was about six on Friday night as you checked on the guys and gals one last time before handing off to the night manager. There weren’t that many in your care at the moment which was always a good thing. You always wanted your animals to find good homes and not be stuck in this place for too long.

“Lovely, Y/N, I brought you somebody,” you heard Dean call from the front desk. You smiled as you walked out there, watching him undo the carry cage and pull out a happy and healthy looking puppy.

“Aw Champ! You look so much better buddy!” you said, the dog wagging his tail and acting like he should again. Dean handed him over to you and you looked him over, knowing Dean was a miracle worker with how he got these guys feeling good again.

“Not as good looking as you,” said Dean. You laughed and waved him back with you as you found a nice spot for Champ for the night. Dean went and found some dinner for him and gave you the run down on his history. He’d barely finished eating before he was plopping down on his bed, snoring happily. “He’s so getting adopted tomorrow.”

“Thanks for volunteering to help out in the morning. I really appreciate it,” you said. Dean smiled and took hold of your hand.

“It’s no problem. I like spending time with you. Speaking of which, I kind of made reservations tonight and was wondering if you’d like to go with me?” he asked.

“Your date cancel on you?” you asked.

“Just asked her,” he said with a wink. “Still waiting to see if I’m going to have to go solo.”

“What time is the reservation?” you asked, giving all the creatures one last look over as you heard the night manager come in.

“Eight. Down at Erickson’s,” said Dean.

“Fancy,” you said, walking out with Dean right on your tail. 

“So...yes?” he asked, a sliver of doubt underneath his hope.

“See you in two hours Dean. I bet you look real good in a suit,” you said, walking over to your car.

“Not as good as you’ll look.”

___________

[leyavo]

| I am my father's daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader

PART TWO: Agreeing to let Toff check you over, you make the decision of whether not you want to stay with your dad or just take off, which would be so much easier.

TW: Hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/comfort/ some TF141 too. [Part one] [Series masterlist] 3026words

Toff lived up to her nickname, no letters dropped at the end of her words like the team your dad had around him. No she was posh, well spoken and had the accent of someone that came from old money.

The gold designer watch on her wrist and the rock of an engagement ring, also telling enough. Her fingers prodded the yellowing bruise on your rib cage, the rock dazzling under the light, blinding you each time she moved.

She doesn't fit in, too put together compared to the likes of your father. He's still wearing some sort of hat, whether its the ridiculous army bucket hat or a snug knitted fisherman one, if he's not it's stuffed in his back pocket. You're convinced he's still got the same Levi jeans, a few added scrapes and as he says, they wear well. There's an array of plaid and flannel shirts in varying colours hanging in his wardrobe, like another uniform he wears on his downtime instead of his camo gear.

Your dad had slipped that she went to some prestigious medical school before working in the military. Not that it mattered it to you, you'd see a vet if it meant they wouldn't talk to your dad.

Thankfully she made your dad wait in the hall, her office door shut as she assessed you. If you got this over with, you could leave and not have to speak of it ever again. You could just imagine him pacing the hallway, halting to greet the soldiers calling him captain and then resuming his pacing.

Being the Captain’s daughter also meant you had a shared family health plan with him. One you’d never heard of before. He did use to remind you to go for dental and medical check ups, but moving around when you were younger made it difficult. Your mother reluctant to fill out forms to sign you up to a new doctor’s surgery because she wasn’t sure if the new home was long term. Shocker, they never were.

"You won't, uh tell my dad?" You asked as you rolled the layers of clothing back down.

Toff tipped your chin up with her finger, "all patient records are confidential, even if your dad's Captain Price." She pushed her chair back wheeling it to the desk and picking up a pair of tweezers, sliding back to you.

She peered over her thick framed glasses at you, turning your face side to side inspecting the gash above your brow. The metal of the tweezer cool against your skin, she prodded the tape drawing back with a nod of satisfaction.

"Soap patched you up well," Toff said handing you a plastic cup of water and some painkillers.

"Sorry, what," you blurted out, choking on the water.

Humming Toff nodded, "he's good with light touch, probably why your dad got him to fix you up whilst you were out cold." She managed to get hold of some of your medical records, which she requested last night. No doubt your dad had called as soon as you fell asleep in the car and asked her for a favour.

You muttered a string of curse words under your breath, did the whole bloody army base know what happened last night? Toff was too busy reading your record, brows scrunching as she double clicked the mouse.

"You broke your wrist six years ago, but never had surgery," she said, turning the computer screen for you to see the x-ray. "The follow up on here, shows your bone moved during it was in a cast, but your guardian refused surgery." Her pen circling the area of the screen for you.

"We were moving and it felt fine," you shrugged, looking down at your wrist. You wondered if your dad knew about that one.

"Does it bother you now?" Toff said, returning to you and picking up your right wrist, pushing your sleeve up. "Huh, there's a lump there, does that hurt? Any regular pain? Does it restrict you from doing certain things, this is your dominant hand?" Her hazel eyes snapped up to yours as you snatched your wrist back and shoved the sleeve back down.

All of her questions spun around in your head, you hadn't even thought about the pain when there was other things to worry about.

Toff stood from her chair, palms raised as if you were going to bolt out of the room, you wanted to.

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry. Is that all you need me to take a look at?"

"Yes, thanks,” you snapped, flinging your hoody back on and zipping it up.

You're ready to bid your dad goodbye and never look back, but as you swung the door open you crashed into the back of someone else.

Soap's light touch kept you upright, you're trying not to think of him patching you up whilst you slept. The thought alone making you feel pathetic, small in his presence. Like you can't even look after yourself.

“Captain got called in,” Soap said, as if that’s supposed to mean anything to you. You’re used to him coming and going, more focused on his job than you.

More interested in his team, how he so easily referred to Soap as son. You haven’t even been there for a day and he’s found another family, leaving you to feel like a spare part. You want to hate Soap, but you don’t know him. Don’t know your dad the way they do.

The walls began to press in and you took off down the narrow corridor, your sight on the world outside. You needed fresh air, needed to catch your breath and not fall apart in front of Soap.

"Hey, woah," Soap called after you, his boots stomping as he tried to catch up. "dammit slow down would ya, like a fuckin’ greyhound."

You forced the door open with a bit too much force and they slammed against the stairs railing as you rushed down the steps.

"I am not a dog!" You spun around, jabbing his chest with your finger. The cool air swept your hair across your face, drawing a deep breath from you. You watched Soap's chest rise and fall as if he was coaching your breathing.

He tucked the curtain of hair shielding your eyes behind your ear, "feel better now?"

“I’d feel a whole lot better if you signed me out right now.” You raised your brow, wincing at the tape pulling it tight.

Soap shook his head, falling into step beside you. He waved, signalling for the guard to let you both through the gate back into the residential area “Your dad’s a good man, why don’t you give him a chance?”

“Because I’m not a soldier, he had his chance six years ago.” The three years he didn’t reach out, didn’t bother checking in on you. Only to find out he had another kid, another family.

You didn’t miss the tic of his jaw or the gulp he took. All the little signs you looked for when you said the wrong thing, you were good at noticing the change in people. Knew how even the nicest ones could change like a flick of a switch.

Soap leant down, face close to yours that you could feel his hot breath fanning the curve of your nose. “Look, if you’re only here to piss off your dad, I’ll sign you out right now. Hell I’ll even take the blame for you leaving, just don’t go asking him about six years ago.”

“Got it,” you said, voice low but good enough for him to hear. The tension in your body kept you in place, breath trembling as he backed off and started walking ahead.

You trailed after him, keeping your distance incase he turned around again. The beating of your heart drummed against your chest, palms sweating as you balled them up inside your pockets.

Why were you so pathetic when confronted? You could just hear your dad’s voice in the back of your head telling you to knee him in the groin. Take up some space so they can’t take all of yours.

Space, exactly what you needed after being stuck in house with a team of men. You slipped through the front door, not glancing at Soap as you rushed to the safety of your dad’s room.

Shutting the door, you pressed your back against the wood panel. The lock sliding into place, your body slumping to the floor and arms wrapping around your legs as you brought them into your chest.

Your small area of safety calming you. After a moment of silence, you picked yourself up and climbed under the duvet. The memory foam mattress too hard on your back that you flipped over on your stomach, closing your eyes.

-

The constant buzzing of your phone drew you out of your sleep, your eyes heavy as you squinted at the window. You don't know why your dad opened the blinds, the sun making it harder for you to focus. His half of the bed smooth and tucked underneath the mattress, not a crease in sight till you tugged the duvet.

Numb tingles danced across your upper back, you groaned into your pillow and attempted to roll your shoulder. Searing pain stopping you before you could rise from the bed.

Eying the alarm clock, you stumbled out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. You're glad the others are training this afternoon and you can sort this out yourself. It can't be that bad.

You pulled your hoody over your head, wincing at the pull of your arm stretching the skin across your shoulder blade.

Peering over your shoulder, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and your fingers pressing into the red skin. A weeping wound oozed yellow pus just right of your back below your neck. You'd forgotten about the graze, too distracted by Toff questioning your broken wrist.

You added a little more pressure and clutched the edge of the sink, black dots lining your vision. You heard the thud before you felt your body fall to the floor.

Sweat ran down your forehead, the cool tiles beneath you a welcome addition against the heat of your skin. Since when were you so hot? your breaths quickened as you tried to focus on your phone across the bathroom. Your hand aching to reach for it.

Maybe if you just rested for a little.

John couldn't wait to sit outside and have a cigar. The day had knocked him, your call in the early hours of the morning throwing him off track and his duties as a captain, a father. He hated how he got called away whilst he waited for Toff to check you over, hoping to catch you before you went on another stroll around the base to get away from his questioning.

He pulled his boots off and added them to the shoes lined up by the door, the living room and kitchen were clear. The mumbled tones of his teammates drew his attention to the hallway. He dragged a hand down his face, hoping he wouldn't have to readjust yet another bathroom schedule.

John joined the guys huddled by the closed bathroom door, looking around Soap for a clue of what the hell they were doing. "I mean we could shimmy the door open, pop it out of the frame with a bit of force," Ghost said, his calloused hand tracing the wood.

They’re all covered in sweat from their training session. Thinking they’d revert back to their bathroom schedules like normal, but they’re locked out. Only the new recruits use the communal showers.

"I don't think kickin’ the door in, is gonna make the lass feel safe." Soap said, arm shooting across the guys before they could move. The warped door's been wreaking havoc since they were assigned the house, but they haven't been bothered about taking it off and shaving it down or replacing the temperamental lock. That or wait on the long list of maintenance services.

“What the hell are you boneheads going on about?” John grumbled, their heads snapping towards him as they finally realised he was there. He glanced to the lock picking device in Ghost’s hand and the dagger wedged into the crack of the door.

“The doors locked, she was talking a second ago…” Gaz winced as the captain’s fist banged against the door shaking the whole wall.

John held his hand over his shoulder silencing them all behind him, his head titling as he tried to listen for any movement. Another knock on the door, "hey kiddo, you alright in there? If you can hear me give me something, anything."

A light tap bounced back, the tension in the captains shoulders easing at the sound.

"Can't kick the door in, there ain’t enough room in there for it to fall. Could hurt her," Gaz said, he yanked the dagger out of the door and shoved it back into Soap's hand.

"Could take the window out and go in that way." Ghost added, as if they were planning to scale a building and ambush a rogue team.

Their mumbled voices merged together in the cramped hallway.

"Window it is."

Gaz volunteered to climb through the second floor window and break the lock from the inside. John holding his breath as he waited on the other side, his chest stung at the sight of you in Gaz's arms. The ringing in his ear and the hands pushing him forwards kept him in tow behind Gaz. You were so pale, words slurred and hand dropping over his arm like a dead weight.

John was no stranger to the infirmary, he'd been sat either at someone's bedside or the unconscious one receiving aid. What he wasn't used to though, was his daughter strung up with an IV and sleeping off the medication Toff had given her.

Nurses flitted back and forth from the bed, herding John to the side as they assessed you. Gaz and Soap had gone back to the house to sleep, Ghost fixed the door and the lock and stopped by to give the captain a strong flask of coffee leaving straight after.

The constant questions, ones he didn't know since he'd never been asked before. How could he not know if you were allergic to anything or if there were any underlying health issues? It hadn't even been two days since you'd come back into his life and he didn't know you at all.

Hours had passed since Gaz had carried you through the house and to the infirmary. Your skin pale and clammy, hair sticking to your forehead. He'd never seen you like that, lost for words as he trailed after them.

The marks of another man's grasp circled your bicep, green bruise fading, but visible as you laid in the bed. John thought the split lip and gashes on your head and brow were bad, the wound on your back much worse. Couldn't understand how you carried the pain so well, as if you'd mastered putting up with it. That scared him.

He nodded to the nurse as she finished her shift, the clipboard at the end of your bed falling to the floor. He picked it up flicking through the pages and shuffling them back into the file. His hands hesitating as he read your name, Marston not Price. Was he that detached from your life that you'd dropped his last name? He'd even put his surname for you when he'd signed you into the base and you hadn't said anything when you looked at the visitor pass.

A hand smoothed across his back, chair scraping along the floor beside him. “Lucky girl, Cap. Mild case of sepsis, good that you caught on to it early and brought her in," Toff said, she leant her elbows on her knees and ducked her head to catch John's gaze.

He couldn't glance at her though, his gaze on his hand on top of yours. "You were supposed to check her over," he snarled, more angry at himself for not paying enough attention than at Toff.

"She didn't show me the wound on her back, just some bruising and the marks on her face that were visible. If I'd have known John..." Her words cut off by John's hand patting her knee.

"How she looking?"

"You caught it in the early stages, could be a few days or a week or more. She'll need to be monitored here and make sure the infection has gone. A wound like that though with the placement, would have made it difficult for her to tend to herself." Toff flicked through the medical chart, eyes flitting to the heart monitor as she walked around the bed.

John didn't want to think about you alone, isolated from people that could help and care for you. How you lacked a family and friends to lean on during those times. His mind consumed with finding whoever did this to you. Ghost had already asked him if he wanted him to look into it.

Toff hooked up another bag of IV, silently bidding him goodbye and returning to her office over the other side of the infirmary. Door ajar incase she was needed.

A twitch of your finger tapped against John's, followed by the hurried beat of the heart monitor. You whimpered in to the pillow, rapid movement fluttering under your eyelids.

“You’re okay, kid. Just relax, your old man’s right here,” he said, adjusting your pillow and smoothing your hair out of the way.

“Captain,” you slurred, lazy smile tugging your lips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, but you clutched his pointer finger like you used to as a kid.

You’d called him Captain as a kid, your mother’s doing as she used to tell you stories about daddy becoming one, one day. Playing soldiers whenever he came home and he’d always let you be the captain, your little voice commanding him to play.

"I've got you kid, you're safe."

- thank you for all your lovely comments on the first part!! :) more parts to come soon! Hope you liked it - Leya

[tickettride]

A good dad || J.D.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x wife!reader

in which your daughters want to keep the stray puppy they've found outside, and you have to convince Johnny that it's a good idea. it is, right?

word count: 2,2k

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, allusions to sex, Johnny's such a grumpy dad, sixties relationship clichés?

A/N: : while I’ve convinced myself numerous times that writing one-shots isn't for me, Benny and Johnny have stuck in my mind and never left. why shouldn’t I fantasize about them and share these moments with you?

English isn’t my first language, but I’m having fun and that’s the most important <3

“Oh, your dad’s gonna be pissed,” you sighed, eyeing the girls as they watched you back with cute pouts. 

Maybe cute, but not enough to make you fold. That puppy right there, at your feet, wouldn’t be part of the family for long. You remembered broaching the subject once, trying to convince Johnny that having a dog could only be good for the girls. Running low on arguments, his response to you was just a look with a serious ‘What the fuck would we do with that?’. You had never talked about the idea again.

“We told you he was near the trash cans,” Lynn, your eldest, nearly burst into tears at the thought of letting go of the dog. “All by himself.”

The dog nudged your bare legs, tail wagging. You took a step back, knowing it would be harder to leave him at the vet if you only stroked him once. You were too damn kind for these kinds of things, and the girls knew it damn well.

The brown fur went to nuzzle against Joan next, who scratched him with more intensity than necessary. Her smile was huge, and her little giggle of happiness nearly melted you on the spot.

You shut your eyes for a second. Focus.

“Look at his ears!” Joan squealed, comparing her small hand to his head. 

“Careful, baby,” you warned her, willing yourself to have some sort of authority back. “Don’t scare him off.”

“I want to keep him!”

“And who would be feeding him when you’re at school?”

Your question raised a moment of silence you had expected. It made you sigh loudly again, leaning your back against the kitchen table. 

“That's what I thought. You exhaust me, you two,” you said in a breath, watching the girls hustling back to the living room on a mission to find the little beast a name.

You were fucked. All of you. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you spun around and ignored the noises above your head. You were fairly certain a family of mice had taken up residence in the walls, but it didn’t matter. You had greater issues as of now, starting with the dog jumping around the girls.

While their laughter filled the house, you finished pouring boiling water into your cup and dunked a teabag inside, watching the clear water turn a bloody red. What could you even tell Johnny? Maybe you could lie and tell him the girls’ new school project was to take care of a puppy for a few days. Make them more responsible. After all, your neighbor's son had taken care of a guinea pig once. 

No, you scoffed at yourself. Your husband was more clever than that. He would see right through you and ask for the truth that you would deliver because you were like that. You hated lying to him, just as much as you hated him lying to you. 

Ten minutes later, your eyes were focused on the tea between your hands. You almost jumped out of the armchair when you heard the jingle of keys being thrown into the drawer in the hallway.

The front door closed with a thud and the girls looked up at you, waiting for any instruction. 

And here you were, sacrificing yourself again for those two little monsters. Setting your cup down on the coffee table, you tried to appear as serious as possible and pointed a finger at them.

“Don’t move, okay? Don’t move and keep the dog with you both.”

“‘Kay Mommy,” Lynn grinned up at you, stroking the dog’s head resting on her lap. 

You gave them a brief nod and cursed at yourself when you stepped across the dolls lying on the carpet, those poor things looking as crazy as you. So you quickly smoothed down your hair and waltzed to the kitchen, where Johnny was removing his leather jacket and boots. Seemed like he had finally heard after all those times you had yelled at him to stop getting the floor dirty with soil and grease. 

“Darlin’?” 

Johnny snapped his neck to face you with that charismatic smile he was always giving you, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. He was always making your heart flip too.

You crossed the room in no time, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sometimes you just greeted each other with a quick peck, and that was okay too. But you had missed him more than usual today, huddling up to shed warmth. 

“Hi,” you whispered, hoping you looked as innocent as you sounded. 

His forehead knocked against yours, and you could feel the love rolling off him in waves when he pressed a quick kiss on your mouth. And another. His face went to the crook of your neck, pressing into the sensitive skin as he pulled you as close to his body as possible. So he had missed you too, maybe more.

“We just had dinner,” you muttered, breathing in the scent of smoke clinging to his skin. “Didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny’s lips grazed your cheek. “I’m not hungry tonight.”

“You’ll change your mind when you get a taste,” you grinned, pecking his lips and forgetting for a second about the dog taking shelter in your living room. “C’mere.”

Johnny’s steps were heavy behind you, trailing to the kitchen counter. His body nearly collided with your back when you faced him again, lifting a wooden spoonful of tomato sauce to his mouth and thumbing his bottom lip gently. 

“How’s that?” you asked, biting down on your lip.

“You know it’s fuckin’ delicious, as usual,” Johnny hummed, giving a smile that made you smile too. "Love it."

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” his hand slithered back down your pants, steering around your backside and fondling you. 

A small chuckle escaped your lips, happy to be still feeding your man after six years of marriage. It was almost unimaginable how after all these years of being with him, you still wanted nothing more than to be close like a lovesick teenager.

“Where are the girls?” Johnny asked before he could do anything to you, licking his lips as he stole a glance toward the living room. 

That’s when the dog decided to bark. A low, high-pitched bark that made you want to kick him out yourself.

“Shit.”

Johnny stared back at you, no trace of that amused grin anymore. “What’s that?”

But he was already making a beeline for the other room, and you beat him to it to block his way. 

“Listen to me first,” you ordered, pointing that finger again at his face and swallowing when he looked down at you that way, the same look he gave in bed sometimes. “Alright? Listen. Joan found a puppy in the garden earlier, and I’ve told the girls we can't keep it.”

“And?”

“And they–well, they were waitin’ for you to come home,” you chickened out, making him huff. “C'mon, what was I supposed to do, hmm?”

Johnny scowled, staring impassively at you and skirting past your figure to have a look at the intruder. 

Mumbling another inaudible curse, you dared to look at the scene too. The dog was now curled on Joan’s lap, sleeping softly. They all looked so damn cute. Meant to be, you could say, if your husband didn’t look so unpleased.

“You’re kiddin’ me,” Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight and darted back to yours. 

“We asked everyone around if they knew him and they said no,” Lynn explained enthusiastically. “That means we can keep him. He must have lost his parents.”

“They did ask,” you muttered, though only Johnny heard you. 

“He's gonna be sad if we abandon him,” Joan was now the one gazing at you both dramatically, giving those sad eyes that usually made her father change his mind. 

Johnny stared at the moonlight slanting through the blinds. Ten seconds felt like forever. And eventually, he retreated to the kitchen. 

“Take him back where you found him.”

The girls' protests were in vain. Both were already calling for you, sniffling tearfully while the dog snored like a little king on his throne. They begged you to do something, and you knew you had to try. You hated fighting with Johnny, but you hated your daughters’ heartbreak even more. 

“Honey,” you started smoothly when you found him by the front door, wide shoulders and thick arms, a cigarette dangling between his lips. 

At least he had opened the door to let the smoke out. 

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t,” Johnny sounded casual, as though the matter was already settled. 

Angry, it was now your turn to scowl. You were already getting upset at his close-mindedness. Your dad had been like that–talking to your mom like she couldn’t have an opinion. Johnny knew you despised that attitude, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to let a man get in your way. Even less when it came to the kids. 

You stepped closer to him, speaking lowly so the girls wouldn’t eavesdrop. “So you’re the only grown-up making a decision here? Is that it? You’re being selfish and… and clearly blind. You know how happy it makes them.”

Johnny’s eyes met yours, a breath of smoke separating you for a second. 

“You want the dog too?” his tone was dry. “Keep it then.”

“Hey, you’re acting like a jackass right now,” you snapped, so close to his face you could feel his breathing over your nose. “It’s a decision we both have to make. I’ve never seen the girls looking so excited by the same thing, Johnny. Taking care of that dog would give them a memorable childhood. Like mine.”

He let out a dry laugh, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Playing with my feelings now, aren’t you?”

“I don’t care,” you almost whined, so tired that the discussion wasn’t going anywhere yet. “Do you fear dogs? Is that why you don’t want it?”

“What?” Johnny scoffed. “No. The tiny shit isn’t goin’ to scare me anytime soon.”

“Tiny shit,” Joan sing-sung lowly, making her way toward you both. 

Beside her, Lynn was covering her mouth to suppress her giggles. The sisters exhanged a glance, more hopeful than you really were. 

“Bad word, Joan,” you warned, glancing down at the dog she was struggling to cradle in her arms. 

Deciding any of this wasn’t worth a fight, you let out a sigh and wordlessly turned your back on Johnny, kneeling before your daughters. 

“You’ll have to leave him at the doorstep, baby,” you said quietly, brushing a strand of her hair out of her forehead. “We’ll find him a new family tomorrow, okay?”

“Why?” Lynn asked, a sob catching in her throat. 

Joan was already tearing up, holding on to the oblivious dog like it would kill her to let go. You had no doubts she would be sad for an entire week, if not more. She was too kind, too. 

“We’ll talk about that in the morning,” you nodded at them, waiting for a nod back. When they did, it was truly the saddest thing you had ever seen. It nearly made you cry, too. 

That night, it was Johnny’s turn to tuck them in. You heard his voice from across the hallway, telling his girls he loved them. Small voices said I love you back. 

You walked from the bathroom to the bed silently, Johnny hot on your heels. 

“How long are you gonna be mad for?” his raspy voice broke through your inner thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

You slipped beneath the white comforter, a foot bumping into his.

“I don’t know,” you shuffled, turning your back to him and burying your head in the pillow. “How long are you gonna be an ass for?”

You had been expecting a response, but nothing came. Just a slight touch over your stomach to test the waters, slipping under your top when you didn’t tell him to stop.

“He’s downstairs,” Johnny muttered, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“What?”

“The dog,” Johnny moved your hair so he could kiss your neck lazily. “He’s downstairs.”

Out of instinct, you tilted your head, allowing him to devour the side of your throat. It was hard to stay mad at him. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on his warm fingers. 

“How long for?”

“A week to start with,” Johnny replied, though you knew the dog was part of the family now. A week would turn into two, and then he would just forget about it. “Longer if he’s not a pain in the ass.”

You tried hard not to smile out of victory, reminding yourself how hard he had been to deal with. And how he was a pain in the ass.

Johnny's hand slipped over your hip when you rolled over to face him, a hand beneath your pillow. 

He swallowed, not quite smiling but not frowning either. You knew he was feeling guilty, always wondering if he was doing the right thing. If he was a good man. A good dad. Yet, you couldn't think of any man who would sacrifice himself like he did. Johnny never hesitated to work overtime and make sure you had all you needed, just like he had promised you all those years ago.

Your lips neared his, a bit bashful, just wanting him to know he could be forgiven easily. It was he who made the final leap by pressing his mouth to yours. His large hand filled the dip of the small of your back, remnants of the cigarette he'd smoked on his lips. A shiver trembled down your spine as your hand stroked his cheek gently.

"Don't sideline me," you pulled away, keeping him close to you. "Please. I know what's good and what's wrong for them."

"I know, darlin'," Johnny muttered back. "I wasn't implyin' that you didn't."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on him. “I’m sorry I got upset. I've had a long day."

Johnny’s lips turned into a smile. “And I’m sorry your man’s a jackass.”

You chuckled, eyes boring into his. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. But he’s a good dad.”

He nodded at your words, kissing your temple and holding you as though he would burn down the city for you. Another kiss was pressed on your forehead and all you had to do was drift asleep peacefully, hoping that dog wouldn't betray you.

[peachetteprice]

Stern Captain John Price...

...Who is a total dog guy through-and-through but eventually succumbs to your cat's pretty face. It isn't an evening with him in your apartment without him muttering, whilst he's cooking;

"What?"

"Hey!"

"What's the matter, lovie?"

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Dearie me, you're very vocal today, ain't ya?"

Every time she meows for attention. In a voice so tender that you know he's never used on you. He relentlessly volunteers to feed the poor thing and asks if she can have more biscuits, despite your warnings that the vet advised not to over-feed her (because she's the most determined scavenger you know - you'd think she was a character on Lost with how desperately she screeches for any morsel of food in her immediate vicinity), but he still frowns, waits five minutes, then sneaks her a handful of biscuits - from his palm, which she gladly takes, because again, Lost, as well as him knowing that you'll hear it if they clatter into the dish - all the while, during which, he ensures via a dozen glances over his shoulder that you aren't about to chastise him for it.

Sweet John thinks you haven't noticed the extra chunkiness around her primordial pouch, but you have - you're just too kind to say anything about it (and you secretly adore the way his eyebrows raise whenever you announce that it's feeding time).

Do not be deceived that he won't still insist that he's a dog person.

Because he will.

Every damn time he comes around will he see your cat, fold his arms and say "you know, I'm more of a dog person, I am", only to rush to the couch and wait patiently - never staring, never moving a muscle because he initially assumes all cats are jittery, distrustful creatures worthy of the attention of a God, not a mere mortal such as himself (and he's not wrong with half of that drivel) - until she clambours on his lap and curls into a shrimp.

He gasps the first time it happens and exclaims;

"Love!" And tilts his head to her like she's a statue that he needs a secondary opinion to be given of whether it's moved before he checks (it has not).

Unfortunately, with all of the sweet things he does, he also actively asks if there's any housework to be done whilst he's over. Oh, because he wants to do it like the gentleman he is, considering you routinely give up your bed, body, and fridge for him? No. Silly! He wants to make sure you're running around like a headless chicken so that he can have a few more minutes of your cat sleeping in his lap, because as soon as your arse hits the cushions, she chirps up and crawls over to yours, instead.

He's a little bit confused when it comes to cats. He often watches her sleep, palms his beard, gives her a point - the same one he gives when he tells his boys off - and asks, most sincerely;

"Is she comfy like that, love? Won't her head ache after a while?"

But, oh, John, she's loafing! It's her natural state.

It takes him a long while to adjust to the various positions in which she clumps, the variable number of nicknames you give her on the daily, and the variety of noises your lips make as you call her to you, but John's a fast learner. Soon enough, she'd rather saunter his way and arch herself along his shin with a saccharine meow than respond to the fact that she needs flea-ing, even if you need her here, now.

Otherwise, she'll dirty the place up, and John'll complain about having an itchy beard again!

And we can't have that happen, because he spent all of ten minutes combing his beard - the same one she nuzzled her chin up against a few days prior - whilst you were undressed in bed, sighing, somewhat cold, waiting until he'd checked it thoroughly before he gave himself the all clear to eat you out until you came.

And the very next morning, what did he do?

He opened the bedroom door - only wearing his boxers - and carted her in to wake you up, yowling and purring. And, though you love her, and you wish nothing but happiness for her, it was something of a rude awakening when you'd rather be fast asleep, repenting for the hours of sleep you'd lost from being fucked within an inch of your life. It's something he catches onto, thank God, as he scoops her up by the belly - shit, he's getting really good at that - and tosses her out of the room, before sinking into the sheets once more to pepper kisses along your bare skin until, finally, begrudgingly, you wake up and he can play with her again!

(Oh, but he'll never admit he actually likes the thing. No. Never. Any emotion resembling that of pleasure is purely on behalf of you. It's what he thinks you'd like... and, with that being said...)

God forbid you make the mistake of mentioning wanting another cat because as soon as you do, he'll slam his phone on the counter, give you a positively wide-eyed stare - almost like a kid on Christmas - and insist that you should. Well, only because your cat needs a friend whilst you're both gone (despite the fact that she's four years old already...)

And, of course, with that territory comes a dozen screenshots of cats for adoption from Pets4Homes, Pre-loved and various animal trust websites that he think will be a perfect fit for your cat - when he really should be finalising paperwork - complete with a bemoaning message of:

Not trying to sway you in any direction, gorgeous.

Except he is.

Oh, and... what's that? Oh, yeah. It fucking works.

Because barely three months after he made his mark in your flat, are you placing a carrier containing a little tortoiseshell kitten (his favourite listing that he sent on the daily, and practically wa-hey-ed with delight during a very very serious briefing with Laswell at the prospect of being home that night to meet the kiddo) before the closed carrier of your cat, and - almost as if it was fate, played by the hand of God himself (John, that is) - they're more than happy to co-habit, and John's soon finding ways to sneak them both shreds of leftover roast chicken every Sunday.

The cheeky sod.

| Masterlist |

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[12:09 pm]

(cw: Kira is back as a best friend)

You stood nervously at the front door, thumb nail between your teeth while you waited for someone to open the door. How were you going to go about this? Should you go about this at all? Yeah, you should. You should do it for Kira.

The door flew open to reveal a flushed Fratboy!Jaehyun with a smile, "hey, sweetie. Come on in."

You stepped in nervously, too nervously for someone who had already been in those house too many times to be acting this nervous. You and Jaehyun were boyfriend and girlfriend, you had no reason to be nervous! But then again, was this the kind of thing a girlfriend of two months would bring up?

You followed Jaehyun into his room silently, lost in your thoughts as you soon found yourself in his room. You sat on the corner of the bed, biting your bottom lip while your thoughts swirled around your head.

Jaehyun flopped on the bed beside you, his eyes studying your face. With a look of concern, he poked your cheek, "what's up with you? You're extra quiet and cute when you're lost in thought."

Those words were all you needed to hear as the following words came tumbling out of your mouth, "did you know that Luke was cheating on Kira? Like he was sleeping with other people even though he and Kira were together?"

"I mean... yeah, I knew Luke was sleeping with quite a few girls. I saw them leave in the mornings sometimes," Jaehyun answered with a furrow between his brows.

"So you knew one of your brothers was cheating on one of my best friends and you didn't say anything? To me or him?" You asked with a look of pure confusion. "I mean, I swore I told you he asked Kira out and she really liked him."

He sat up looking more serious than he did before, "Sweetie, are you mad at me?"

"Well, no, I'm not mad. I just thought that you liked Kira... so why wouldn't you tell me that your friend cheated on my best friend?"

"I do like Kira, she's cool. I'm just really confused right now, to be honest."

"You knew that your friend was cheating on my friend and you didn't say anything! For three months!" You exclaim exasperatedly.

Jaehyun runs a hand down his face, "Sweetie, Luke never actually commits to anyone. He's honestly a piece of shit, he only takes girls out to get laid. I'm just sorry it was Kira who got roped into it. And I'm sorry that I wasn't listening when you told me it was Luke Kira went on a date with. I mean, I think I remember but it's Luke! I didn't think he was actually committing to anyone. He's like the shittiest of us all, a total douche."

Your face softens, taking in his look of genuine cluelessness and his sincere apology. You let out a long sigh, "I'm sorry I freaked out. I just spent two days with a freaked out Kira. She was super emotional after she saw him making out with some girl in the library. I should have vetted him with you before they went out. I'm really sorry again."

He tugged you into his warm embrace with a smile, "you have nothing to apologize for. I can understand why you freaked out. I should make it a point to be a better listener."

You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight, "can we watch a movie now?"

[bcolfanfic]

Mollie I’m sitting on my knees with my hands out begging for the young veteran au HC’s with Gale and John’s adopted daughter 🤲🏻

(modern) young vets au - josie cleven-egan’s version™️

they talk about it once not long after they get back to the states- but that conversation ultimately comes down to deciding to revisit it when bucky’s ptsd is more under control.

and if it just isn’t something that works out for them- or bucky doesn’t feel ready ever then that’s okay too.

but bucky wants it. which takes some work, and time and tears and gale wanting to fire every single person at the sheridan VA office.

he gets there though, and gale is so damn proud of his husband.

when they revisit the kids thing they consider going to the infant adoption route but ultimately decide to go through an agency that places waiting kids in the foster system whose parental rights have already been terminated. surrogacy isn't something either of them really bring up except to bypass it.

it’s a smidge because bucky is intimidated by literal babies. just a smidge. 

they eventually get a call about a four year old little girl named josie and the information the social worker sends over about her breaks their sweet hearts. 

they both have their own shit from the war, but they’re grown men and trying to wrap their minds around a four year old having trauma that almost rivals their own makes them sick. 

damn taking a few days to call back like her social worker offers, they call back by the end of the night to ask when they need to be ready. 

sweet little josie shows up with a hello kitty suitcase at 8pm on a tuesday. gale and bucky love her instantly in a way that they struggle to really articulate. 

it just makes sense, her little face looking up at them when she’s sitting on the floor pulling her shoes off. she’s home. 

she clicks with bucky immediately, who takes to calling her jojo which she rolls with happily. but gale freaks himself out about suddenly actually being a parent and takes a little longer to find his footing. 

which makes him a little insecure when she seems more hesitant around him than she does bucky. it doesn’t necessarily help that bucky is the one home all day- and the one time he has to leave for an evening and isn’t there for bedtime poor josie absolutely flips out. 

her and gale both end up in tears by the time she’s actually clonking out, bless their hearts. 

she tuckers herself out and falls asleep in his arms. but man does poor gale feel like he’s absolutely useless having spent the past couple hours listen to her scream for daddy to come home like he’s just some babysitter. 

it hurts bucky’s heart when he’s home and gale is venting about it. he knows that man was born to be a dad and that their baby loves him, they just maybe need a little more one on one time. and gale needs to get out of his head about becoming his own father because, as bucky puts it- he’s nothing like that sack of shit and never will be. 

they spend more one and one time together, gale bringing her to the school he substitute teaches at when he’s just going in to plan over the weekend. she’s content to color on printer paper while he works, parking herself on his knees. it’s the first time she does that, and bucky beams at the photo he texts him. 

my buddy, at last! 👍🏼

the first time she calls gale daddy as opposed to “um, mis-ter cle’n” he cries. bucky cries. everyone cries. 

then raises the issue of figuring out how to differentiate between the two of them. they land on gale being daddy and bucky being papa. 

bucky jokes that it makes him feel he’s on little house on the prairie, but it’s fine. he’d let his darling jojo call him anything she damn well pleased. 

the day they make it official at the courthouse, as many of the guys as are free fly in to be there and celebrate with them. crosby brings his herd of kids and watching them run around with the newest little cleven-egan makes him emotional. 

“you cryin’ croz?”

“thinkin’ about when we were overseas. didn’t know if we’d be alive by the end of the week. but now look at our lives,” he says, swiping at his eyes. bucky smiles and rubs his shoulder, feeling choked up for about the fifth time that day. 

“it all worked out, huh?”

[fourstarsoutofnine]

To get away.

chapter two; Breathing out, and to the inn.

Part 1, Part 3, part 3.5, part 4

Warnings:purposeful cliffhanger ;P

You’d been walking for miles and miles, for hours on end, and you were starting to grow very weary because of it. There wasn’t a town in sight and the champion’s sheikah slate was doing nothing to help—seeing as this wasn’t his Hyrule. You’d all been trying to make your way to higher ground to get a good vantage point on the lay of the land, but it felt like if you took another ten steps, your legs would give out. Your pulse was higher than it usually was, and your chest burned from the heavy breathing.

“Yap city…” the veteran mumbled just low enough for you to not hear. The traveler, however, did hear and that earned the veteran an elbow to the side.

“Be nice. She’s struggling. Not everyone is as in shape as we are, we’ve spent our whole lives adventuring. It’s clear she hasn’t.” He whispered, sounding frustrated with the veteran and his untrusting jabs towards you.

The vet took a deep breath and sighed. Despite being deeply wary of you, he made his way over to walk beside you. “You good?”

You looked over, still huffing and puffing. You nodded, not trusting your lungs to push any more air out than necessary.

“You don’t seem it. Need a break?” He asked, even if he wanted to keep moving. As much as he didn’t trust you, the others wanted to help you and that more than outweighed his opinion.

You looked at Him for a few seconds before nodding and stopping. He called the others to a halt and you leaned against a tree, sinking down. The rancher brought you a canteen of water, which you graciously took and leaned your head against the tree after drinking some. You took a deep sigh and tried to regulate your breathing again.

“Boy, you really aren’t from here, are you?” The sailor looked at you with his head cocked to the side. You shook your head and huffed a tired laugh.

“That’s becoming far more apparent as the day goes on, isn’t it?” You joked dryly.

“Sure is… take your time though! We can wait.” The sailor sat beside you. You smiled softly, feeling a little less like a burden. If anything, this meant they could rest as well.

“The sailor’s right, we have time. There’s enough daylight left, and the rancher said his wolf found a town in the direction we’re traveling, so it shouldn’t be too long before we find it.” The old man said, bringing you even more peace. That peace left when you looked around at them and saw how annoyed the veteran looked. You quickly looked away.

The Vet, however, looked over at you when you averted your gaze. He sighed, giving you the ghost of a sympathetic look. As much as he didn’t trust you, he knew he couldn’t find it in himself to be rude to you—not directly, anyway. He watched the traveler walk up to you and kneel beside you, asking if you were alright or needed anything. He asked if you were hurt, and the Veteran felt just a twinge of jealousy. The traveler was like a little brother to him—they were best friends. Seeing him be so attentive to you sent a pain right through him. He looked away, crossing his arms.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can heal you if you need…” the traveler smiled nervously.

“Absolutely, honey. I’m fine…” you smiled softly, placing your hands on his. He flushed red and nodded.

“Alright, as long as you think so…”

After a few more minutes of rest, you stood and assured the chain you’d be fine to continue. You all walked for another hour or so and entered town the town. It was a beautiful little tow, with lanterns hung up everywhere that lit the path as the sun set.

The chain split up, some going to speak to the townsfolk, and others going to buy resources. You went with the old man, the captain, the rancher and the traveler to check into the inn. There were enough rooms, but you’d have to bunk with someone. You weren’t sure who’d that be, but honestly, you weren’t too concerned with it at the moment. You quickly went up the stairs, your body growing heavier with each step. You entered one of the empty rooms and collapsed on the bed, kicking your shoes off as you slowly drifted to sleep. A little while later, you heard the door open and shut again, and heard someone light the lantern in the room..

[mothfables]

It happened in a crash of thunder.

They were making their way along one of the roads in an unclaimed Hyrule when the storm hit. It had been looming all day, making itself known in tight scars and aching joints.

They had just come upon a rocky cliff when it happened. Thunder boomed out of nowhere, making everyone jump. The rain came a moment later, bringing with it a chill that had some of them gasping.

“Let’s find shelter!” Warriors called. There were enthusiastic sounds of agreement.

Twilight pulled the hood of his pelt over his head only to pause. Something felt off. He did a quick headcount. All of the usual troublemakers - Wild, Hyrule, and Wind - were ahead, eagerly searching for some place to take shelter from the rain. The rest were trudging along as well as they could.

Everything seemed fine. He continued walking.

…Wait. Someone was missing.

The rancher stopped in his tracks, counting again. Wind, Wild, Hyrule- that was three. Time and Wars in their armor, glancing worriedly up at the clouds, five. Sky holding his sailcloth over an unhappy Four. Seven. He made eight.

…Where was the Vet?

Twilight glanced around, trying to spot his missing brother. He turned around and-

Oh.

Legend stood frozen in the middle of the road, hands clasped over his ears and eyes shut tight. Thunder boomed again and Twilight watched as he flinched, curling into himself with a barely-audible whimper.

Oh no.

It was no secret among them that Legend hated storms. Twilight hurried back towards his brother, calling out to try and get his attention.

There was no reaction. Legend remained frozen.

“Lege, hey, lookit me.” Twilight knelt down before him, noting with mounting worry how pale he was, just how tightly he curled into himself. Thunder rolled again and Legend flinched hard with a choked sound.

Twilight frowned. Calling his brother’s name again produced no result; Legend stayed unresponsive. A fourth bout of thunder had him shuddering and Twilight biting his lip.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He hesitated to touch him, but calling his name wasn’t working. Legend hated being touched without warning, but Twilight didn’t see any other way to get him out of the rain. With a sigh, he shrugged his pelt off and draped it over the smaller boy, making sure the hood was securely over his head before scooping him up and hurrying back to the rest of their brothers.

The Captain was the first to notice as he approached, his brow furrowing at the shaking form held close in protective arms. He sent Twilight a concerned look which only deepened when Legend let out a small, scared noise.

“We needta git ‘im outta the rain,” Twilight said. Wars nodded and was about to reply when he was interrupted by a shout.

“We found a cave! It looks like there’s enough room fer all of us!”

Wind waved at them from a large opening in the cliffside. The heroes still on the road hurried over, grateful for the chance to get out of the storm.

Inside the cave was thankfully dry and large enough for them to spread out and have their own space. The roof was even high enough they could have a fire without having to worry about the smoke.

Twilight moved to the back of the cave, as far from the entrance as he could. The sound of rain was quieter there, and he felt Legend’s trembling lessen a tiny bit.

“Shh, shh. I gotcha,” he murmured. “Let’s getcha outta those wet clothes, yeah?”

Legend whimpered and clung weakly to him as Twilight tried to gently wrangle him out of his wet things. Warriors came over after changing out of his own soaked clothes to help. Together they managed to get Legend out of his wet clothes and into something soft and dry.

The younger boy didn’t resist, only pressing closer as thunder echoed through the cave. Twilight and Wars shared a look over his head.

“Reckon he’s small, if he’s actin’ like this,” the rancher muttered lowly.

Wars sighed. “Yes, I think that might be the case. Do you think it was the storm?”

“I dunno what else it could been. ‘e was fine earlier, just grouchy cause his scars were actin’ up.”

Wars nodded before crouching down to be level with Legend and speaking softly. “Hey, bud. Are you feeling small right now?”

A muffled whine was his answer and he exchanged another glance with Twilight.

“Do you want me to hold you while Twilight gets changed? You can go right back when he’s done if you want.”

Legend didn’t respond, instead pressing even closer to Twilight as his right hand drifted towards his mouth. Warriors was quick to catch it, rubbing gentle circles into his palm in apology when Legend made an unhappy noise.

“I know, bud, I know. But Twi’s gotta get out of his wet clothes too. Come here.” He gathered Legend into his arms before shuffling around to sit against the wall with him in his lap.

He held his little brother, still rubbing circles into his hands, as he watched the rest of them work to make themselves comfortable to wait out the storm. Wild had managed to get a fire going and was in the process of preparing dinner. Four was furiously toweling himself dry while Wind went around gathering everyone’s bedding, most likely with the intention to make a nest for them all to cuddle in later.

Things had just gotten to a point where they were calm and relaxed when the weather took a turn for the worse.

Lightning flashed, painting the world a blinding white, followed by the loudest clap of thunder yet.

Legend jolted from his place against Warriors’ chest with a cry. Wars managed to catch him before he fell, wrapping his arms around him securely. Legend let him, staring into nothing for a long moment before he burst into tears.

He wailed, shoving his face into Wars’ chest to hide from the storm raging outside. His brother held him close, covering long ears and rocking side to side in an effort to calm him. Soft humming filled the air, a welcome distraction from the dull roar of rain outside their shelter.

It took time but eventually Legend’s tears slowed. Wars ran a soothing hand through his hair as he hiccuped, letting go of the tight grip he had on the older hero’s shirt to rub at red eyes. The captain gently wiped the tears from pale cheeks before pressing a kiss to his brow.

Wet violet eyes peeked up at him from behind damp hair. Wars smiled and tucked a lock behind one of those long ears. Legend sniffled and moved to nuzzle against his neck. He let him, used to the other boy’s way of seeking comfort.

“You feeling a little better, honeybun?”

A small nod against his collarbone. Wars leaned his head against Legend’s, earning a sigh.

“I bet yer tired, huh, kit?” Twilight murmured, laying a hand against Legend’s back. “Let’s git ourselves t’bed, yeah? Wind’s got a nice comfy nest built fer all’a us.”

There was a beat, then a tiny “…okay.”

“That’s th’ spirit. Awright, let’s go!” Twilight helped Wars make sure he had Legend in a secure grip before standing. Then they made their way over to where the Chain was waiting in the aforementioned nest. Wild was the only one missing, still working on dinner.

Wars settled down near the middle, Legend curled in his lap. Sky crawled over with a blanket and tucked him in with a smile. Then he took Legend’s face in his hands and pressed several kisses to his cheeks with exaggerated ‘muah!’ sounds. Legend gave a wet giggle at the affection.

Sky beamed. “There’s my little bird! Are you feeling better, baby?”

Legend nodded before his face scrunched and he yawned, nose quivering. He laid his head on Wars’ shoulder again with a content sigh.

“You can go to sleep if you want, honeybun. It’s alright.” The rain had died down a fair bit, a quiet patter on the cliff outside. Wild finished dinner and came over, plates in hand, and smiled when he saw Legend cuddled up to the captain.

“I’ll save his for later,” he whispered.

“Thanks, champion. I know he’ll appreciate it.”

Warriors began running a hand through Legend’s hair, feeling the boy in his lap relax at the soothing motions. He leaned more and more heavily into the captain, one hand grasping loosely at Wars’ shirt while the other rested under his chin. A moment later tiny squeaking snores sounded.

Sky cooed. The other heroes exchanged adoring smiles at the sight.

“Alright, that’s bedtime for us, I think,” Wars whispered. “Sleep well, everyone. See you all tomorrow.”

With that, he carefully moved to lay down, Legend still wrapped in his arms and snoring quietly. He felt more than saw someone lay a blanket over him, his own eyes already drifting shut from the assurance of safety and family.

“Goodnight, captain,” was the last thing he heard before he let sleep embrace him.

[koipend]

How They Ask You Out || JJK Men

Character(s): Gojo, Geto, Toji, gn!reader Prompt: How they ask you out on a (first!) date. Category: Fluff / Romance

Gojo Satoru

If it was High school Satoru, I think he'd be awfully brave about it-- scratch that, he wouldn't ask he'd tell you-- or at least pretend to be he'd need Suguru to hype him up beforehand I honestly don't think he would wait long before asking you out. Like to 'decide his feelings' or even just test the waters.

Probably just waltz up to you after class, with that goddamned smirk of his and lean over your desk while Shoko laughed behind him and be like, "Let's go on a date"

He'd make a bigggg deal out of it, especially the you accept. Gloat all about it, and how awesome he is-- and probably how 'lucky you were'

Still, the first date would be secluded and well thought out and despite his teasing personality, I reckon it would be tragically romantic.

"Hey! Yeah-- you!" Gojo smirked, leaning over your desk, his glasses shining in the sun as you look up from your notes, "You free tonight? We should go on a date."

If it was Older Gojo, though, I think it would be much less public, and probably have more build up. There would be flirting, and you'd probably know that he was going to ask you out eventually.

I think he's the type to jokingly ask people out on dates-- especially when you're dating him he would just pout in front of his students and things-- But.

For the first date, unlike younger Satoru, he would do it in private, probably text you to come somewhere, or be hanging out with you and bring out an almost comically large bouquet or your favorite flowers, and ask.

Then of course, when you accept he's going to gloat even harder than high school Satoru, probably to Nanami and his students. And Utahime. He'd tease too--

You glanced at your phone, frowning at Gojo's text, 'Open the door. I'm outside.' Still, you did, cautiously opening the door, only to be met with a large bouquet, shoved elegantly into your hands, as Gojo calls your name.

"C'monnnnn" He said, smiling a brilliant smile at you, "I have reservations at your favorite restaurant, its a date."

Geto Suguru

With Suguru, though, I almost think there wouldn't be a first date so much as a string of hangouts that basically constitute as dates but there's just no... confirmation.

But, eventually, he does get around to it-- probably much quieter than Satoru. He'd probably pull you over during a group hangout, bump shoulders with you and go, "So... dinner tonight?"

It's not exactly a date explicitly, at least, but, the implication is there, and that enough for the both of you

Then, when you accept he'd have this small smile, and take you to an awfully fancy place-- texting for you to dress up beforehand.

I don't think he'd telll anyone really, either, not to say he'd hide it so much as he'd probably only tell Gojo jokingly, and everyone else would only find out when it gained relevance.

You and Suguru were hanging around, everyone else already grouped together, while you both took a smoke break. Shoko had already gone in. You glanced at him, watching his eyes follow you intently.

He says your name, and you raise a brow, "Do you-- wanna get dinner tonight? At that fancy place?"

Fushiguro Toji

THIS MAN MAKES YOU PAY.

Once you get over that fact, I still think he'd be the one to ask you out.

Not gonna lie with y'all, he would either do it over text, or do it after work. Let's say after work, for the weird romance of it. You'd both be drenched in blood, just finished collecting payment and probably heading to a bar or casino.

He'd just turn to you with a laissez faire smirk and ask you out.

He's probably got unbridled confidence, like Satoru, but the kind of casualness that rival Suguru, he's a seasoned vet of life-- so I just can't imagine him being nervous or bothered really.

Of course, once you accept there’s no going back, he'll take you to this place, probably make you at the least pay for your half of the meal, if not his.

You were covered in blood, desperately in need of a shower-- you'd have to drag Toji to get a shower before he hit the bar. Speaking of, you glance over at him, he's counting his paycheck, before he grins and look up at you.

"Say," He starts, "Doll, you wanna grab something to eat with me? We'll make it a date."

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 5)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, angst, language, dirty talk, digital penetration, etc etc.

So sorry for the wait…I’ve been so busy and I’m scatterbrained as it is. I love you all and appreciate your patience as always! My lovelies, you all own my heart ❤️ Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, I’ll add my taglist tomorrow, I promise. Tonight, I’m tipsy and in a turkey coma. xoxo

It’s early when your heavy eyes reluctantly drift open. Quiet. Silent. Save for the serene, rhythmic push and pull of his soft breath against the nape of your neck. In and out, in and out, like a whispered incantation sent to lull you into his placid waters.

Morning light is threatening to steal the darkness away, inching its way into the room, casting a muted, purple glow against the wall. You snuggle in closer to him and watch the moon prepare to fight the battle it wages ceaselessly. It loses to the sun again and again, and this morning will be no different.

How you wish the moon could win just this once. How you loathe the sun for refusing its slumber. How dare it steal this night away from you? How dare it force you to face the gravity of this life you’ve built without him? Of choice? Of pain either way?

Jake has insisted on sending the others along, promising he won’t be far behind. That he’ll take a car, or catch a short flight…vowing to appear on stage for sound check - the prodigal son returning to whichever arena is next on the list.

You hadn’t needed to hear the opposite end of the conversation last night to know that Josh couldn’t have been happy about it…but, even after all this time, you still know them both well enough to know that Jake’s heels were dug in and that Josh - knowing this, too - wouldn’t fight him too viciously.

“You awake?” His voice, gorgeously gruff with sleep, hushes against your skin just before his lips find a place there with a delicate kiss.

A hum rasps out of you as you stroke your fingers down his forearm, not trusting yourself to speak over the lump pulsing in your throat.

If he understands the reason for your quiet, he doesn’t let on, “God, how fucking perfect is this? You smell so good.”

He trails off, nestling in against you as his arms tighten their hold, tucking you right in until you can feel the drum of his beautiful heart tapping a steady beat against your shoulder blade.

“Do you remember the first time we woke up next to each other?” His lips graze across your bare shoulder gingerly as he whispers to you, calming your mind with his soothing cadence.

“Yes,” how could you ever forget? “It was the morning you told me you loved me. Then we went downstairs and Josh shoveled pancakes onto our plates until we were sick.”

His hand disappears beneath the sheets to feather along your breast..tickling over your nipple until it pebbles, “That was a beautiful morning with my beautiful girl, but it wasn't the first.”

Confused, you sift through memories rapidly. So many of them, and so many of them him…flashes of his face, so stunning and serene in his devotion, his voice, his laugh. Darkened eyes devouring you from above, owning you like a deity you are hopeless to deny, his hands, his heart, his love.

Suddenly, there it is - crystal clear as the spring you had visited that long ago weekend. The memory brings a nostalgic smile playing across your lips. You had all been so young then. So naive of what was to come. Untouchable laughter echoing off trees that had been standing, solemn and still, long enough to know it wouldn’t last. “The UP…camping at Indian Lake. You forgot your tent when we were packing up, and Josh had the most fun making fun of you about it because—“

He interrupts with a spot on impression of his twin, “Who the fuck goes camping and forgets their tent? That’s like—“

You chime in as well, “Going to the vet without your dog.”

“I woke up beside you and I just…” he falls silent for a beat and then marches on with a shaky breath, “You were sleeping so peacefully, so sweetly, like an angel - and he was out there by the fire causing chaos and frying eggs. I laid there beside you and pretended you were mine. Made up a little life for us in my head. We had three girls and a cat who sunbathed at their feet during tea parties in the backyard. They looked just like you. I loved you, and you loved me back.”

“Tell me more.” You urge so softly, you’ve hardly made a sound. “Tell me about our life.”

He cuddles in closer, cheek nuzzling into your tangled hair. “I buy you the most beautiful house you’ve ever seen. And it has a great big covered porch where we like to sit in the evenings. We hold hands on the swing and watch the girls make up elaborate games with the fireflies. Our youngest is the bossiest, and you say she reminds you of Josh. There’s a place in the side yard. I leveled it out just after we moved in so you could plant a garden, and I help you harvest tomatoes in the evenings because you always plant too many.”

“I do not plant too many,” your laugh is gentle, wistful. “I make salsa for your stupid brothers.”

“Yes,” he agrees, nodding along as he continues stroking over your chest, abandoning your breast for the thrum of your heart beneath his palm. “You make salsa for my stupid brothers. The girls complain and bargain for time when we tell them it’s time for baths, but you step in and order them inside because I can’t tell them no.”

“You’re no help at all.” You sigh, sinking into the soft domesticity of the picture he is painting just for you.

“Yes, I am.” He argues, kissing along your jaw. “I help with baths, and then I play them all the prettiest songs I’ve ever written for you until their eyes are hazy enough to drift away. And then I hold your hand some more down the hall, and I close our bedroom door, and I lay you down and remind you of how much I love you until you sound like all those pretty songs I’ve written for you.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help the girlish giggle that floats off your tongue. He turns you into liquid bliss so effortlessly, speaking to you like a lullaby until warm, worshipful devotion swells in your chest, leaving room for nothing but Jake.

“Yeah.” His tongue travels over the shell of your ear as he breathes promises into it, twisting and tightening your belly way down deep “And sometimes I remind you slow and sweet…sometimes I hold you like bone china and move gently, and softly, until you’re shaking and fluttering around me, all silk and velvet walls like flower petals. And other times, I give it to you nasty. Fuck you filthy, and dirty, and hard so you’ll remember who my pretty little fuck doll is…and you take my cock like a whore with my hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the neighbors.”

His touch remains far too innocent for the words dripping from his lips like salacious prayers. It’s still playing softly over your heart - perhaps just to feel the quickening of its beats, perhaps just because he has missed it so.

“Touch me.” you shiver as the plea rolls off your tongue, anticipating the way he will give into you, and the way it will feel when he does.

“I am touching you.” He’s burying his face in your hair, breathing you in, filling his lungs with everything he has missed so desperately.

“Don’t tease me.” There’s a pout edging its way into your tone, and he is positively weak for it. He’d like to think that you have never sounded this way for anyone else. He’d like to believe that he has never heard you sound this way…that you have never begged for him with such soft urgency on your tongue.

“Shh, sugar,” he soothes, and the way it slows your pulse like a drug…well, you can almost believe that nothing has ever been wrong with your world. You can almost believe that you’ve lived all of your lifetimes here in this room with him, wrapped up in the sheets, safe and so, so loved. “you know I’m gonna take care of my girl. You just close your eyes, baby, alright? Just close your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter shut as though he has willed them so, and then his fingers are winding the gentlest trail down your body, slipping like hot silk down your stomach, and then to your thigh to pull it to the side, opening you up for him.

“I think about this all the time.” he confesses, sweeping his fingertips against your entrance and then over your clit once his touch is slick and warm. “Lying with you. Talking with you in bed the way we used to. Feeling your hair tickle my cheek. Watching you sigh for me, wet and aching for me, for what I can give you…nobody else.”

“Nobody else, Jake,” you nod feverishly as he begins drawing delicate circles over your swollen clit. “Nobody else.”

“Do you think about me, too?” his mouth hovers over your pulse, tracing an S for his sugar against it. “When you’re all alone?”

His touch is picking up in pace, those goddamed fingers of his that seem to somehow vibrate, they know every inch of you…how to touch you. How to take you apart. How to play you. You are his favorite instrument.

“Yes,” it stutters out of you, inarticulate and clumsily, but he loves it all the more for it.

“Yeah?” there it is, that smug air in his tone that makes your entire body throb with want. “Does my sweet little girl touch herself when no one is around to see? Does my sugar call my name when she slips her hand between these pretty thighs?”

“Jake, please…” your grip has found its way around his wrist, tight and sure, to keep his hand where you so badly need it.

“Stop begging, baby,” he croons, pressing kisses against your temple, “I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you cum, soft and gentle, ‘cause you’re my beautiful fucking girl. And then you’re going to ride my cock filthy, fuck doll.”

A sound that you ought to be ashamed of claws its way out of your chest, feral and furious in your need as you rock your hips into his hand. His pace never falters, never varies, as he whispers praise and vulgarities into your ear, skilled fingers swirling and swirling and swirling over your clit until you’re right fucking there.

“Come on, pretty girl…” more kisses to your temple as adulation tumbles from his lips endlessly. “Give it to me, sugar, give it to me.”

It spreads itself out in your body like a heavy swallow of red wine. unfurling inside you like euphoric heat, curling your toes and prickling your scalp as it trips up your spine. It’s so delicate and light, his touch like a feather against your clit as it trembles and twitches…and just like always, he knows, and works you through it softly, gingerly, reverently, until the tide pulls back.

“You made a mess, baby.” he teases, whispering into the crook of your neck with a smile on his lips and his fingers now curling across the pillow of his tongue.

“Whose fault is that?” you pant back, working hard to chase down your breath.

“I’ll own making a mess of your pretty cunt any day, sweetheart…any fucking day.”

You roll your eyes without much conviction, for you adore his obscene prose “Poetic.”

He rolls onto his back, tugging you along for the ride until you are perched above and straddling him.

He looks like a fallen, arcane angel beneath you, with his hair snarled and knotted against the pillow, eyes clouded with lust and darkened with blown pupils, lips pink and tumid - parted and pretty.

“You’re beautiful.” you shake your head in wonder. He is exquisite. Ethereal. Flawless. Precious.

He shakes his head right back, cupping your cheek, “You’re beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful sugar. I have loved you forever and I will love you always.”

With your cheeks heating under his awestruck scrutiny, you bite down on your lip coyly…you haven’t forgotten that he likes a hint of innocence now and then. “Did I hear you mention something about riding your cock filthy, Jakey? Or did I misunderstand?”

His palm is wrapped around your throat in a breath, pulling your mouth down to his. He licks against your tongue with a menacing hum. “You wanna ride my cock, baby? You wanna fuck me dirty while I lie back and watch you do all the work like my good little girl?”

A shiver shimmies your shoulders as your gaze flutters away abashedly, inexplicably shy.

“Aw,” it isn’t taunting, he sounds genuinely starstruck by the bashful blush coloring the apples of your cheeks. “Look at my sweetheart. Does it still make you a little soft when I tell you what a good girl you are for me? You like that?”

You nod, and this time, when your teeth sink into your bottom lip, it isn’t contrived.

“I know, sugar…” he pets at your face like you’re fragile, made of glass and dear to his heart. “It always has. You are, you know? You’re my very good girl and I love you more than anything in this whole fucking world. Nothing even comes close.”

Emboldened and driven half crazy by the love he is wringing from his heart, you rise up on your knees and issue an order, which doesn’t make you a very good girl at all. “Put it in.”

A huff of wanton breath escapes him, and then, with one hand wrapped around his thick cock, and the other digging into your hip, he pulls you down and buries himself inside you.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart…” it’s a hitching groan that rattles in his chest. “Look at you, wrapped up sweet and pink around me. Pretty as a picture, aren’t you, baby? Taking this cock. So fucking tight. You feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you can’t manage much else as your nails dig into his chest for purchase, head tipping back as you begin to ride him fast and hard, forgoing an easy lead up…you need him too badly.

His tip, so thick and perfect, begins spoiling over the sweetest spot inside you when he angles your hips…knocking against it until the air is punching from your lungs with every downward swivel of your hips.

“That’s the spot right there, isn’t it, sugar?” he voice, rasping and strangled with pleasure drags you closer and closer. “Right there, huh? That’s where my girl needs my cock…right fucking there.”

“Yes! Right there…” you repeat, blathering on with your hands on your own tits, twisting and tugging at your nipples as your thighs burn and scream for mercy you don’t care to give them. “Right there right there right there…”

“Yeah? You want it right there?” his thumb drops to your clit as he drinks you in, savoring you as you work yourself into a frenzy above him. “You take it right there, pretty girl…you just fucking take it.”

You can feel him twitching and straining inside your clenching cunt, and you know desperate little spurts of precum must be steadily leaking from his cock…the thought only serves to make you coil around him even more viciously.

“Sugar,” there’s a frantic edge coloring his tone now. He’s close. “Please, baby…you’re squeezing me…so fucking…fuck, fuck…ease up, sweetheart, please. Relax that sweet little cunt for me. Baby, baby, baby…” he thrashes his head back and forth against the pillow, brow furrowed and tipped up as though he is anguished.

“No.” you’re wild and panting, sweating and clawing at his chest with unhinged need. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh god…” it hushes out of him, winded and ragged, like he’s afraid he won’t make it long enough to get you there. “C’mon, pretty girl, come on. Right on my cock. Soak it, sweetheart. I want you all fucking over me.”

“Fuck me back,” you’re clutching at his shoulders now, scrambling for purchase against his drenched, glistening skin. “Hard. Fuck me back.”

His hips begin driving up to meet you, hard and fast, slamming his cock into you over and over through gritted teeth and gutteral grunts of pleasure and agony as he fights his own release.

Arms up suddenly, he curls them violently around your shoulders, holding you still against his lap as best he can, but you continue to grind into him, working yourself back and forth over his cock, chasing and chasing and chasing that end you so badly need.

“Hold fucking still,” grits out through clenched teeth as your lips press and sway against his sweating forehead, “I’m gonna cum, sugar. Don’t move, don’t move!”

His palm lands hard against your ass in punishment for your disobedience, gripping and pulling at it, but it merely spurs you on.

“You said you wanted me to ride your cock filthy,” your words are airy puffs of taunting breath. “so fucking take it Jakey, take it.”

He doubles over into you, burying his face between your breasts and crying out into their rounded softness as he lets go inside you, painting you warm and wetter than you already were…biting and sucking, consuming you as if he wants to swallow you whole.

It’s your name, whimpering and keening out of him like a psalm that sends you tumbling along right behind him with a gushing pulse and a shaking inward pull of breath that exhales with his name to match your own still lingering on his lips.

A strange calm finds you both as you struggle to breathe wrapped up tight and tangled together in the ruined sheets and humid air. But it is a familiar calm…one that so often crept in between the two of you after you had lost yourselves the way you’ve just lost yourselves.

“No one,” his fingers tap down your spine and linger in the dimples that grace the base, “could ever make me feel the way you make me feel, sugar. No one. Ever.”

“Jake.” you sigh, and he hears a thousand words inside it.

“I know, baby.” he’s stroking through your hair now, pacifying you so all of that feverish energy will seep from your veins gently. “I know.”

~

The sun has bullied its way into the sky fully, washcloth he so lovingly swept over you now rinsed and folded over the bathroom sink, glass of water he carried in, sipped at and now lazily dripping condensation onto the nightstand.

Top sheet pulled over the fitted sheet in a half-hearted attempt to rectify the wrongs inflicted towards the bed, your bodies are twisted up below the soft, generic duvet.

“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?” He whispers, tracing his fingers along the bridge of your nose. “I can feel it.”

“What happens now, Jake?’ You stroke his nose right back. “I’m just going to walk away from my life and follow you around the world? Like nothing ever happened?”

“Yes.” He says it like it could all be just that easy, and how you wish that were so.

“It doesn’t work that way.” He’s a dreamer. Always has been.

“So, tell me how it works then, sugar.” He pulls you into a blink of a kiss. “You go back to him, and I go back to misery and that’s it for you and I? We wake up every morning for the rest of our lives wishing things were different? Aching for each other? You tell me how that makes fucking sense.”

“Because this is real life, Jake.” Do you even believe your own bullshit? You have to, right? “This isn’t some pretty little story you’re telling. We aren’t picking tomatoes in the garden.”

God, how you hate yourself.

“We could be though.” His promises would be so lovely to slip away into…if only it could be that simple. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “It could be so simple, sugar. None of this other shit matters. We matter.”

He can’t be argued with, so instead, you simply nestle your cheek against his chest and linger in this time you have left with him.

“Will you at least leave me your number before you go? So I can call to say hello every once in a while?”

He’s giving in far too easily. He’s lying. You know he is, and he knows it just as well. He isn’t going away, and he doesn’t plan on giving up.

He has decided to stand his ground this time around. This time, for you, he has decided to fight…

and god help anyone who tries to stand in his way.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @jakesgrapejuice @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Lillian! 🥳

Part 6

Authors Note: so sorry for just now being able to post, last few weeks have been insane between tests, finals, and then family was in the hospital. Hope this makes up for the time gone.

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

When we get to the bar, we meet up with Austin and Chase in line, immediately giving them both a hug.

“You look gorgeous” Austin tells me putting his hand on my lower back, ushering me forward as the line gets shorter.

We wait for everyone to get our ID’s scanned and our stamp before walking inside, me and Mack grabbing each other’s hand and lead everyone to ‘our spot’ from all those years ago, right behind one of the bars and beside the pool table.

“Mack, is that Grant??” I pull her beside me and point watching as one of the security guards walking towards us making their rounds

“Holy shit, yes it is” she said pulling me towards him, “Grant!” She yells catching his attention

“I thought that was y’all, how are y’all? Ain’t seen both of y’all here in years!” He yells over the music pulling us both into a hug

“We’re doing good! I’m actually married and have a baby now! Mads just graduated from vet school” Mack answers for us both as Grant gives us both a high five

“I’m happy to hear y’all are doing good, that’s amazing! Y’all stay safe and let me know if y’all need anything!” He smiles as we nod and smile back before walking back over to the group.

“Who was that?” Drew asked us

“Grant, he was one of the security guards that always kept an eye on us” I tell him and he smiles

“What do you want to drink?” Drew asks me

“Crown and coke” I say and be nods, “you need help getting everything?”

“Yeah, that’d be great” he smiles as he runs down the list of everything we need making sure he’s got it all before we walk over to the bar.

We waited for a few minutes waiting on the solo cups and the beers, I immediately start sipping on my drink the second I get it.

“You gonna dance with me any or is Austin gonna keep you tied up?” Drew asks putting his hand on his hip looking down at me

“Little do you know, I’m into that kind of thing” I wink before laughing at my own joke as I watch his eyes go wide, “but for real, all you gotta do is ask me, I’ll dance” I assure him

“If you’re already talking like that, take your time on the drinks Ms. Taylor” he warns

“I will do as I please Mr. Starkey” I tease grabbing 5 beers, purposely bumping into his side before walking back over to the table handing the beers out.

Drew came and stood next to me at the table, handing the cups out he had. I quickly chugged my crown and coke, sitting it down.

“Slow down cowgirl” Austin teases pulling me in between his legs.

“I’ll be fine” I say, watching as one of the workers are walking around selling Jell-O shots, “Mack?” I say pointing over at the girl.

“You already know” she winks and I smile waving the girl over, she quickly walks over

“What can I get you fine people tonight?” She smiles

“We want the whole tray” Mack yells from across the table, making my eyes widen, Mack and I both start to pull out our cash but Drew beats us to it, taking the tray out of her hand and sitting it on our table.

“I’m gonna pay you back” I tell him

“No you’re not, my treat, congrats Dr. Taylor” he winks keeping our eyes locked as he grabs one of the shots and puts it up to my lips, I take hold of it and suck it out of the mini cup. When I look over, I see Austin watching me closely

“What?” I ask

“That was hot” he said making me laugh

“Want one?” I ask, holding one up for him, which he happily takes from me.

Garrett had done brought me and Mack both a few more drinks, taking the edge off when one of our favorites songs to line dance to, comes on; Fuego by Pitbull

“Come on!” I yell reaching for her hand before we both take off to the dance floor, immediately feeling like we’re 22 again. I felt eyes on me and every time I glanced over, there was for sure always one set of crystal blues not leaving me while the other pair seemed to be interested in anything that walked by, but I didn’t care, but because of the set of eyes that were still watching, I decided to add a little more sway and slowness to my moves… or maybe that was partly the alcohol mixed with an attractive man staring.

~~~~~ Drew’s POV ~~~~~

From the tone of her voice earlier at the bar, putting the shot up to her lip, to the sway of her hips on the dance floor right now, I didn’t know how to control myself. I didn’t know how to not go out there and dance with her, hold her close to me, how I’ve wanted her for years now.

“She looks so fucking good out there, can you just imagine how she’d move in bed?” Austin says bringing me out of my thoughts

“Dude, chill, stop talking about her like that” I tell him

“I’m sure your thinking the same thing about some girl here already” Austin says patting my shoulder

“No I’m not” I say crossing my arms looking him in the eyes.

“Suuuure you’re not, good luck buddy” Austin says walking towards the dance floor grabbing Maddie’s hand pulling her to the middle. Mack walks over next to me, grabbing another shot

“You okay?” She asks me

“I really don’t think you should be pushing Austin and Maddie” I say

“What why? I think they would be really cute” She defends

“Cause of that right there” I say pointing at him trying to keep her against him when she clearly wants to actually dance, not grind.

“Oh God, She looks uncomfortable, will you please go get her” Mack pleads

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice” I say immediately making a bee line for her.

“Austin, stop” I hear her tell him laughing nervously trying to push away from him

“Cmon, I’m just trying to have some fun” Austin says

“Austin, let her go” I say grabbing Mads hand, pulling her to my side. Austin steps closer to me, keeping our eyes locked

“What’s your fucking deal Drew?” He asks pissed off

“She didn’t want you on her like that” I tell him

“Maddie was fine, weren’t you?” Austin asks looking down at her with a smile before reaching out to grab her arm

“Don’t touch her” I warn keeping my eyes locked with his

“I don’t know what your problem is the past few days but figure it out Starkey” Austin says before walking off

I turn to look at Maddie, “want a drink?” I ask

“Yes please” she smiles before taking my hand and leading us off the dance floor and towards the bar, asking for 2 crowns and coke when the bartender gets to her.

“You okay?” I lean down and ask her

“Yeah, just glad you came and saved me” she smiles up at me, locking her eyes with mine keepin a light hold on my arm

“Glad I was able to” I smile down at her, “you look really beautiful” I say watching as the corners of her mouth turn up into a big grin and her cheeks turn a extra shade of pink

“You look good tonight too” she says, bumping her shoulder into my arm

“Here you go ma’am!” The bartender says sitting the cups in front of us, I reach over her and grab both cups, handing her one as she grabbed the same hand and led us back to the group

“Are you okay?” Mack asks her as soon as we walk up

“Yeah, huge thanks to Drew” she smiles nudging me, our eyes lingering on each other longer than they should’ve

“Yeah, Drew’s the best” Mack says making my eyes cut back to her, giving her a smile

“I try” I wink patting my chest making both of them shake their heads

~~~~~ Maddie’s POV ~~~~~

“I really gotta use the bathroom, come with me” Mack says grabbing my hand

“I’ll walk y’all over there” Drew says quickly following us over. I take a few quick sips out of my cup before handing it to Drew for safe keeping following Mack into the bathroom.

“I don’t think he’s gonna let you out of his sight now” Mack whispers to me before laughing as I walk her to a stall

“Well I’d much rather have your brother as a body guard than Austin trying to grind up against me” I say from the other side of the door

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that” Mack says

“It’s okay, but can you please stop pushing for the whole Maddie and Austin thing now?” I plead as she opens the stall door

“It’s gone and never will return” she smiles at me

“About time” I playfully roll my eyes as she swats at my arm before putting her hands back under the water, “maybe next time you’ll listen to me” I tease

“My bad for wanting my bestie to be happy” she throws her hands up

“I am happy, I’m surrounded by great people” I tell her grabbing ahold of her arm as she stumbles a little

“I mean with somebody romantically dummy” she says

“I know but I’m not worried about that right now” I defend

“You haven’t been worried about it in years…” she mumbles “part of me thinks Drew has a little crush on you which is weird” she adds

“Nah he’s just being a good friend” I tell her

“Yeah, that’s fine, just the look he gives you, I can’t pinpoint what it is” she tells me

“What look?” I ask

“Like eyes sparkling, can’t help but smile around you, he even blushes with you Maddie! I have not seen him blush since he was in middle school… see, that look right there” she explains as we go around the corner before we both look up at Drew, waiting a few feet away with a big toothy grin when he seen us

“Austin is making a fool of himself” Drew tells us when we walk up, pointing towards the dance floor where he is drunkenly dancing next to a girl but his dance moves almost favoring a 4 year old

“What is he doing?” I laugh

“Maybe that’s why he was only trying to grind” Mack says making Drew and I laugh

“As long as he keeps it away from me, I am good” I defend laughing as we walk back over to the table with Logan, Chase, and Garrett

Logan immediately pulls me over to him, “are you okay?” He asks

“I’m good, why?” I ask

“Austin, he looked really uncomfortable, I didn’t realize what was going on until Drew was basically running to you” he laughs taking a drink raising his eyebrows

“He was just being good friend, stop reading so much into it” I laugh pushing his cheek playfully

“Mhmmm… I’m just saying, I’m all for it” Logan whispers the last part

“For what?” I raise an eyebrow

“You and Drew” he says making my eyes go wide

“There’s nothing between me and Drew, just friends” I defend

“Just friends don’t look at each other like y’all do” he states

“We don’t look at each other anyway” I say

“Yeah okay, keep telling yourself that sweetheart” Logan says patting my head before pulling me over to the pool table where the rest of the boys are at

“You play?” Drew asks picking the rack up

“Eh not really, more of a pool watcher” I say taking a sip as he nods, giving me a smile, before picking up and his cue and getting ready to take the first shot.

After watching them for a while, chase and Garrett had wondered off when they were supposed to just go get more drinks and Logan had made his way back to our table.

So not knowing where or if our drinks were even got, I go over and grab two more crown and coke from the bar quickly and go back to where Drew is.

“Here ya go” I smile as he takes the drink

“Thank you ma’am” he says taking a drink, “wanna try?” He asks gesturing towards the cue.

“I’m good” I say

“You won’t get any good at it if you don’t work on it” he says leaning against the pool table, crossing his arms as good as he can with the drink in his hands, and looking down at me with that adorable smug smirk

“I have no reason to need to work on it” I shrug

“Yea ya do” he says

“Whiiich is?” I ask

“That way you can be my partner, hell, if I get you doing it good, we could win some money” he chuckles

“You and chase seemed to be good partners” I point out

“Yeah… but I’d much rather have you by my side than Chase..” he smile and I laugh “what?” He chuckles

“I’m too drunk to listen to cheesiness Mr. Starkey” I grin up at him

“Just one time, I’ll even show you what to do if you want me to, do it and I won’t bug you about it again” he says grabbing the cue and leaning it towards me. I roll my eyes and grab the cue from him before getting into the same position that I watched them do. “Wait.. hand here…” he says grabbing my hand and placing it where it needed to be “put your fingers like— there ya go, atta girl.. now lean over, focus on one ball and use your other arm to shoot” he tells me and I feel his hand land on my back “you got it”

I couldn’t help the feeling in my stomach, most of his hand being skin to skin contact and a few of his finger tips right above the hem of my tank top. I look back at him partly confused and partly just wanting him to take his hand off so I can focus

“Sorry” he says pulling his hand away leaving the area feeling extra cold. I turn my head back to the cue and aim it directly for the striped 5 ball and shoot. I watch closely as it slowly makes its way to the corner pocket, dropping in.

“Did I actually just do that?” I say standing up straight and looking up at Drew

“You’re welcome” he smirks holding onto a cue

“That was me, not you sweetheart” I tease

“You wouldn’t have gotten it in if I didn’t show you where to put your hands”

“I woulda figured it out” I say handing him my cue and patting his bicep before turning to walk away but he quickly grabs my hand to pull me back

“I’ll make a deal with you, hot shot” he smirks

“And that is?” I ask

“If you can knock in…” he focuses on the table “stripe 12, I won’t keep trying for something that we both desperately want, but if you can’t, pick a ball for me and if I can knock it in… I get to take you out, one time, and it can be when your moved back if need be” he tells me

“Deal” I say raising my hand waiting for him to shake

“Deal” he smiles ear to ear

“What’s funny?” I ask

“Take a look at 12 sweetheart” he whisper yells over the music, I raise an eyebrow before looking down at the table, searching for 12.

12…Right in the middle of two other balls, “Drew, that’s not even fair” I whine

“Deals a deal babe” he winks as I roll my eyes, “let’s see what you can do”

I walk around the table, looking at different angles trying to find the best spot. Every spot was gonna be a miss unless you were just lucky, every hit would hit one of the other balls and throw 12 off course. But, I had to try so I took the spot that looked the less threatening, leaned down and got the cue set up as good as I knew. I moved a little to get the right angle and took my shot, saying a little prayer in my head. I watch 12 collide into 5 slightly and kept going, getting closer and closer to going in… and it would’ve, if the ball hadn’t hit the corner of the side and took off to the other side.

I throw my head back and groan. “I’m actually proud of you for that” Drew says

“Proud enough to just say I won?” I ask

“Not a chance” he smiles making me roll my eyes again, “what ball?” He asks as I glance around the table, looking at the 3 against the side.

“Ball 7” I tell him

“Oh.. wow.. I don’t know if I can do that…” he says in a serious tone. I look up at him starting to grin until I see his smirk replace his ‘concerned’ look

“Oh you’re such an asshole” I say pushing him slightly laughing before watching him find his spot, getting into place, and taking a shot. The cue hits the ball on one sides, knocks into ball 7, and it knocks into the ball on the other side and it keeps rolling towards the pocket, 7 not far behind it. Drew places his hand over his mouth watching the ball closely as it makes it to the edge of the pocket, feeling like it paused for 10 minutes before falling into the pocket. I cross my arms and look at Drew watching him raise his arms in victory

“That is complete bullshit” I laugh as he makes his way over to me doing a somewhat victory dance, before picking me up and spinning around making us both laugh

“I get to take you out” he says putting my feet back on the ground

“When I move back” I tell him

“Don’t think your gonna get out of it, I won fair and square” he says mockingly

“Okay okay, just don’t tell Mack” I warn

“Figured that” he laughed

“One date” I say as he locks eyes with me

“Yeah… one date” he rolls his eyes but agrees

“C’mon” I say grabbing the cues and sitting them down on the table and grabbing his hand pulling him to the dance floor “you know how to two step?” I ask looking up at him

“A little” he said as I grabbed his hand and push it to go behind my back as I kept hold of his other hand

“Just go with the flow” I tell him as I take the lead a little to get him started, but after he few minutes, he pulls me closer and is dancing like he knows everything there is to know “Thought you said you only knew a little” I tease

“You just make it easy” he teases back

“Oh.. I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult” I laugh

“Definitely a compliment” he says before dipping me, one hand on my back and the other on the back of my leg. Our eyes lock and it feels like we’re the only people in here

“Drew” I say after what feels like eternity

“Don’t.” He says pulling me back up and pulling me off the dance floor and towards a vacant hallway, immediately placing me against the wall, placing his lips on mine. The alcohol giving us all the confidence in the world…? Maybe…? I feel him pull away slightly, “please” he begs as I place my hand on his cheek and the other on the back of his head pulling him back down to meet my lips. One of his hands in my hair and the other on my hip keeping me close to him.

“What the fuck?!”

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

Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life

[heavyhitterheaux]

Jack and FL taking miss girl to the vet and one of tje dogs in the waiting room is doing too mucj and the owner doesn't notice bc she's too 🥵🥵🥵 at Jack and Jack puts her in her place

“Thanks for coming with me, babe.” Jack told you as you were scratching Butterscotch behind her ears in the hopes of keeping her calm.

“Of course my love. We have to make sure our youngest child is okay and I have to also make sure that they don't try to get over on us either.”

A few days ago you noticed that she wasn't acting like her energetic self and quickly made an appointment to see what might be wrong with her. However, something told you to watch the security cameras and the reasoning for her feeling sick was revealed.

She had eaten a paper towel that one of the triplets had dropped on the floor and never picked up.

“Our child would eat a paper towel. Not surprised in the slightest.” Jack replied and you couldn't help but to laugh. However, you were startled by a dog barking in a loud tone and looked to see the direction from where it was coming from.

“Hmm.”

“What's wrong, baby?”

“It seems that you have an admirer.” You told him and he instantly rolled his eyes as he looked in the direction that you nodded your head towards.

“And I have a wedding ring on my finger that could blind the entire continent of North America.”

“You so cute, bae. What did you expect?” You replied as you pinched his cheek making him blush.

“Stop, babe! And I'm all yours so she can stop staring at me. I think she's about to start drooling in a minute. You are the only person that I want looking at me like that.” He told you as Butterscotch was walking back and forth between both of your laps before she decided to lay in Jack’s.

Suddenly you two heard a crash and it looked as if the rowdy dog that had the owner that had been looking at your husband the entire time had knocked over two plants that they had in the waiting room, sending soil flying everywhere.

“Can she not control her dog or is she too focused on you?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question? I will start making out with you right now to get her to stop staring.”

“I don't think she's blinked since she's been here.”

Just then, the girl must have loosened her grip on the dog's leash because the next thing you knew, the dog was coming straight for Butterscotch and Jack was done dealing with the nonsense.

The dog then proceeded to almost hop on Jack’s lap and that's when you heard his protests.

“Uh? Excuse me!?!?? Ma'am isn't this your dog?”

“Oh, um yes.”

“Well can you do a better job of controlling him and getting him to act like he has some sense? Because if he would have bitten my child there would have been hell to pay.”

“Your child?”

“Don't you see me holding my daughter? If you were actually paying attention and not making googly eyes at me you would see that he's torn up this waiting room. And I know you see this ring on my finger and that indicates that I'm a whole married man and MY WIFE is sitting next to me.”

All you did was laugh as you were on facetime with Urban, who heard the entire exchange. You called him to get an update on the babies, and that just so happened to be the time when Jack went off.

“I cannot! Y/N! Get your husband.” He said as he busted out laughing.

“Nah, let him cook.”

“Like how does your dog not know how to act in public? And are you going to come over here and get him or?”

“Oh, right. Um, sorry about that.” She immediately turned red indicating that she was embarrassed and took the dog's leash from Jack.

“I love it when you get like that.” You whispered in his ear once the woman had finally gone back to her seat.

“Once we leave here….” Jack started to say, but was immediately cut off by Urban.

“AHT AHT! I'm still here so stop being nasty!”

“Hmm, I can solve that problem.” Jack said and Urban's eyes went wide.

“Don't you DARE hang up on me.”

“Urb, can't hear you, we’ll call you back later.” Jack replied as he reached over and hung up on him while all you could do was laugh.

“Now where were we?”

[kawoala]

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 — hirugami sachirou

contents ; word count - 1,224. OOC! CHARACTER. rushed and also i don’t like it, but hey! what are you going to do. veterinarian! hirugami. bold! hirugami. sick animal. written for @/tangerinelvr, because they commented about hirugami on that post where i said, “i really want to write for underrated characters.”

because of your worrywart mentality, a sick cat is the worst thing in the world. you take him to the vet, with the hopes of getting him back to normal, and maybe the doctor is a little attractive.

You’re sitting in the waiting room of the clinic, fingers tapping nervously on the armrest of your chair. It’s quiet—too quiet for your liking. Butters, the orange tabby cat you’d rescued off the road about four years ago, sits on your lap, curled into a little ball. A rare sight for him—he’s usually energetic, bouncing around your apartment and knocking things off counters. But today, he’s still and lethargic, his usual playfulness replaced by a soft, uncharacteristic meow every so often.

To you, it’s quite unsettling.

You scratch behind his ears, trying to calm his and your nerves simultaneously. You’ve never seen him like this and to say that you’re freaking out is an understatement.

The vet's office is strangely comforting in the way that it smells like a mix of antiseptic and something sweeter, maybe the flowers sitting on the nearby windowsill. Butters lets it another quiet meow, and you rub your hand through his fur gently. You can feel his warm body under your fingers and you can’t help but frown, worry coursing through your veins.

The door that presumably leads to the back opens, snapping you out of your thoughts, and a young man walks through. He looks around your age, tall with sharp features. His brown hair is tousled like he’s just gotten out of bed, but somehow still effortless put-together. His uniform is slightly wrinkled, but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes you think he’s still in control of everything around him. Even with the slight disarray of his appearance.

A part of you feels guilty for finding this man attractive while your sick cat sits in your lap. The other part of you wants to take this man out for coffee and learn about every single one of his flaws.

He meets your eyes and smiles briefly, walking over to you with a calm, professional demeanor. His eyes flicker to Butters, unmoved from his previous spot, and his brows furrow slightly.

“You’re Mrs. L/n, right? And this is Butters?” His voice is deeper than you had expected. “I’m Dr. Hirugami, but you can call me Sachirou.”

You blink at him a couple times, a little taken back. His smile is kind, eases the nervous feeling in your stomach. His gaze seems more focused on Butters, though, so you also look down. “Uh, yeah. He’s been acting really weird lately. He’s usually a high-energy cat—likes to bounce around my apartment like he’s playing tag with something. But recently he’s been staying in one spot, barely even having the energy to eat.”

He hums, crouching down in front of you, eyeing the cat in a quick, practiced assessment. You don’t know why, but it makes you nervous. He meets your eyes again, then stands, putting his hands on his hips. “We’ll get him all sorted out, okay?” He nods once, then jerks his head towards the door he came through. “If you follow me to the back, then we can take his temperature and do a proper check up.”

Wordlessly, you stand and follow him to an examination room. It's a friendly room, you think. There’s a few posters of different animals and the room is painted in bright, childish colors. It makes you smile.

“Alright,” he says with a soft clap of his hands, once again pulling you from your thoughts. “I’m going to take his temperature now, just a quick check.” He gently takes Butters from your grasp and sets him down on the examination table. Butters doesn’t resist, his little body limp as he looks around the room with wide eyes.

You watch as he performs a few quick checks, making quiet murmurs to himself while you fidget in a chair. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he straightens and turns to you.

“He’s running a mild fever, but it’s not anything too serious,” he reassures you, though there’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. “I’ll give you some medication for him, just to help bring the fever down. It should help him for the next few days, but if he doesn’t seem better by then, come back.”

You exhale a relieved breath, your heart relaxing in your chest. Butters condition isn’t critical, but the thought of him being unwell for the next few days makes your stomach tighten again. 

You give him a weak smile, a feeling of gratitude washing over you. “Thank you so much, Dr. Hirugami,” you say, your voice soft but sincere. You want him to know that you're grateful.

“Please,” he says with a chuckle, “just call me Sachirou.” His tone sounds warmer, you think. “It’s my pleasure, anyway. It’s always nice to meet a cat owner who actually cares for their companion. Butters is lucky to have you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and you look down, unsure of how to respond. Butters lay on the table, letting out another soft meow. You absentmindedly reach over to scratch the back of his head, letting your fingers comb through his soft fur.

When you look back up to say your thanks once again, you’re surprised to find him already staring at you, his expression thoughtful as he taps his pen against his clipboard. You can’t help the way he seems to linger on your lips for a second longer than necessary.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but now with an edge to it, like he’s shifting the conversation into new territory, “I was thinking… Since you’re obviously such a good cat parent, maybe you’d want to stay in touch? Keep me updated on Butters progress over the next few days?”

You stare at him, taken aback. There’s something undeniably bold in his suggestion, his confidence radiating through the words as if he’s fully expecting you to agree. You find yourself blinking a few times, once more unsure of what to say.

He smiles, clearly noticing your hesitation, and then adds, “Or not. It’s okay, either way.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little at the way he says it, the idea of a vet offering to stay in touch over something as trivial as cat health updates is strangely amusing. But his eyes are still on you, waiting for an answer. You find yourself considering the offer—after all, you know you would appreciate knowing how Butters is doing, and you could always use someone knowledgeable in case something else came up.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, finally giving in. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

He grins, the smile turning just a little bit more playful. “Great. I’ll just need your number then, if you don’t mind.”

You hesitate for a moment, but before you can second-guess yourself, you reach for your phone and hand it to him. He taps in your number with quick fingers, his hands brushing yours for a split second.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice lower now, almost teasing. “Just making sure Butters gets the best care.”

You feel a small flutter in your chest at the unexpected turn of events. You try to hide it behind a smile, but your mind races as you watch him walk out of the room, your cat still resting in your lap. The moment is over, but something tells you this won’t be the last time you’ll be seeing Dr. Hirugami.

[graceisinthelibrary]

prompt 13 would also be interesting :)

Sorry, this took me two days, but real life is annoying at the moment, lol.

Here we go. The prompt was "Can't--breathe--". Set after 5.7. The idea is certainly not new or original, but it's the best I could come up with.

Her teeth clattered and he bent over her, pulling the blanket back in place. It was the third night of fever for her. Three nights he spent watching her as her body was fighting the nasty infection. She was barely awake, barely able to talk. Did she even know he was there? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t leave her side. The rocking chair standing by her bed would be his home for as long as necessary. He had stayed with at Christmas, he stayed with her now, until she was on the mend.

Helen had offered to take over the night shift, so had Tristan, but he had refused them, telling them to keep the house and the practice going instead. 

It was a brave battle of wills and she was a fighter. Still, he was scared for her. Memories of the countless nights he had watched over Evelyn came back with force. His wife’s war against cancer had been in vain. They both had been aware of that, although they always had pretended to stand a chance. Self-delusion had played an important part in their dealings with the invisible enemy until it had claimed her. 

His brain knew a nasty chest infection wasn’t cancer. Mrs Hall was very likely to recover and he was determined to make sure she would. 

He was convinced that hadn’t she had to go through the ordeal of fearing for Edward’s life, the mean virus wouldn’t have stood a chance against her robust constitution. The illness had ambushed her in a moment of weakness. A blitz attack in the moment she thought Edward was safe. She was never ill. After all she was the one who cared for them and provided them with all kinds of remedies to cure their ills. 

Leg compresses, broth, and tea were the means available. He had asked a farmer to pay him in chickens instead of money to make sure they could always provide her with a chicken broth, because it stayed inside and nurtured her worn out body until she was able to eat something more substantial. 

“Can’t…breathe…” He heard her mumbling and placed the back of his hand on her forehead. She was still burning up but she felt a little colder than the last time he had checked. 

“That’s your throat,” he explained in a low voice and reached out to get the glass from the nightstand. He gently lifted her head up and told her to drink. “There you go,” he said, satisfied she was swallowing every drop of the water. 

The lamp bathed her pale face in a soft light. The rings under her eyes were excessive. Her breath was rattling as he placed her head back into the pillow. 

“What time?” She coughed, her eyes closed. 

“A quarter past one,” he answered and added, “Time to sleep.” To his surprise she did as told and drifted back to sleep. That should be the first time you do as I say, he thought. He couldn’t wait for her to be her old self again. He longed for her to scold him when he misplaced his keys or her knowing look when he tried to charm his way out of an embarrassing situation. He had accepted a long time ago that he needed her; not just for cooking and cleaning, darning and dusting. 

He needed her presence in his life. 

Her smile, her laughter, her assurance that everything would be alright. 

Audrey Hall had become his true north. She was the fixed star in his life. When he looked for direction, her eyes offered guidance. When he longed for peace, her smile put him at ease. 

His love for her was just one facade of what she meant for him. When it came down to it, she wasn’t just the woman he wanted to kiss and hold for the rest of his life. She was his everything. Since Evelyn had died he hadn’t been anyone’s everything. Tristan had eventually grown up, James was a good vet in his own right, and Carmody had found himself a new life in London. And Jimmy, as annoying as it was, had his own doting parents to look after him. 

As the hours passed by, he kept watching her sleep, recovering and when she woke up again, he was there to offer her a fresh cup of tea. Her eyes had lost their feverish glitter and a hint of rose had returned into her cheeks. 

“You daft man,” she croaked. “You should work” 

“Later,” he said. 

Later, he returned with a small bouquet of snowdrops. The vase graced her nightstand. “Jimmy plucked them for you,” he lied smoothly. Valentine’s Day was approaching after all. First harbours of spring came to life. 

“Liar,” she replied with a smile pursing around her lips. He accepted the truth with a smile and kissed the back of her hand. Then he showed her the novel he had picked from the bookshelf in the living room. “The Spanish Bride,” he said. 

“Not Persian?” 

“Never Persian,” he replied soberly. “Ready?” He cleared his throat and leaned back in his rocking chair. 

“Always.” She settled into her pillow and smiled as she listened to his very own interpretation of the love story of the soldier Sir Harry Smith and the love of his life Juana Maria. From time to time her hand laced with his as she listened to him and even more often, her eyes searched for his.  

[eddiemunsonw]

Like a dog

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: Happens after Gator gets his ass kicked in episode 2. He clearly needs some help, but he's independent, right? He can take care of this himself, for sure.

CW/Disclaimer: A bit of angst? Gator is having some inner struggles and you're doing your best to accommodate him. And yeah, a bit of misogyny in there too, nothing too strong though I would say. Also some fluff and humor, I barely can do without.

Author's note: The title is misleading, but it'll make sense once you start reading it.

Words: 2319

Gator

His ears were ringing, but apart from that no sound seemed to be coming in. He vaguely noticed his cheek was warm, realized it was blood and tried to not freak out. It wasn’t that he was scared of blood, not at all. Sometimes he even got a little kick out of watching things, people bleed. Just not himself.

Then… there was his arm. That was a problem for sure. He had felt the snap, heard it, even, before that asshole used his gun right next to his ear. Last but not least, his groin. His balls and dick felt like they had grown thrice in size in the bad way. He didn’t think there was any enlargement of balls in the good way anyway. But… Yeah. It really fucking hurt.

Getting to the ER was a challenge too. His father was occupied and he didn’t want to ask for his help for something so insignificant. He was independent. He could just walk. Once he stood upright, he felt like dropping to his knees again, his vision swimming. Everything hurt so much it was nearly blinding. He would’ve thrown up if… wait, had he thrown up? He tasted blood but he had also bitten his tongue, so… Whatever. One step at a time. And fingers crossed that shitbird wouldn’t find him.

You

The crash, followed by a yelp and a cry of pain startled you as you were restocking supplies. You rushed to the front and found a guy, a familiar guy, on the floor, holding his arm as he groaned in pain. Quickly, you kneeled down on the floor next to him, gently touching his shoulder.

“He—”

“Don’t touch me!”

His whole body tensed up and he twisted away from your touch. In the moment, it didn’t register to you as funny even though a bystander could probably see the humor of it as he wiggled away from you, groaning and moaning in pain as he did.

“I assume you’re here for a reason. How about we get you upright and in the chair, so I can check you out?”

Gator finally lifted his head to look at you and squinted. You noticed he was sweating, which wasn’t good. His eyes narrowed even more and a scowl pulled the corners of his mouth down.

“Are you even qualified?”

“Do you want help or not?” you deadpanned.

He managed to lift himself up to lean against the door and tried to cross his arms but remembered one wasn’t really cooperating and winced.

“Are you qualified?”

“To take care of dogs? Yeah, I am.”

Gator’s eyes flamed and you could tell he wanted to lurch forward, probably grasp your throat to shut you up. It didn’t help that you were smiling at him. Lucky for you, he was in too much pain to act on his deepest desires. Instead, he nearly spat the words out he said next.

“What are you calling me?”

You laughed dryly. Gator Tillman. He hadn’t changed a bit since school.

“Funny you immediately assume I’m talking about you. You’re at a vet. This isn’t the ER, Gator.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, taken aback. Only now he actually properly looked around. He seemed to have a hard time focusing his vision still. “What kind of bad business are you running here? There’s no one! Also that’s Sheriff Tillman for you.”

You looked at him, rolled your eyes and walked to the back to make yourself some coffee. He could wait. If he wanted to act like an entitled brat he should have gone to the actual ER. You knew barking dogs rarely bite. After a few minutes, he called out.

“Hey! Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Depends,” you shouted from the back, “are you gonna stop acting like a dick or not, Deputy?”

A silence. One that dragged on long enough for you to walk back to the front with your coffee in hand. Maybe you hadn’t heard the door open and close? Wrong. His eyes met yours immediately when you looked down, lips pressed tightly together, whether out of pain or annoyance with you, you weren’t sure. You gave him a pointed glance and a quip of your brow, waiting.

“Yes.”

With some help, you got him to sit on the examination table, which immediately required a remark from him, of course.

“Can this thing even handle my weight?”

You eyed him up and down slowly, a slow smirk forming. His frown deepened as you let the silence settle between you and he shifted uncomfortably on the table.

“Yeah. You look like you weigh about the size of a chubby golden retriever.”

“I workout every day!” he spluttered, as if that was the point.

“Okay? Point is, it can take you. No need to worry your little head over it. Anyway… let’s see.”

You could feel Gator’s eyes following you as you gathered some supplies, knowing you wouldn’t be able to help him with everything. The best you could probably do was give him a ride to those that could. You turned around and lifted your hand to his face, gently wiping away the blood that had leaked from his ear. His hand grabbed your wrist tightly when you came closer to his ear and he hissed out in pain. His grip was painful, but you could tell by his ragged breaths that he wasn’t doing it out of malice. He was scared.

“Hey…” you started softly, leaning back to look at him. You stood between his legs and while you were smaller than him, were able to see eye to eye due to the height of the table. “You do need to go to the ER. Get you checked out. I can make you a temporary splint for your arm but I don’t wanna mess with it too much as it’s not my expertise to work on humans. I can give you a ride? Is there anything else that hurts?”

He mumbled something incomprehensible and avoided your eyes.

“Sorry?”

“My junk. I think I need to like, cool it or something,” he said reluctantly. You nodded and walked away from him to grab a gel pack from the freezer, but the hand around your wrist stopped you. As you turned around he was quick to avoid your gaze once again and dropped your wrist.

“You might want to take your pants off.”

“Hah?”

“For the gel pack,” you mumbled as you placed a gel pack wrapped in a towel next to him. He frowned but started fumbling with the button of his cargos anyway. You already wrote a note to stick on your door that you’d be out for a bit and added the emergency number of the nearest vet just in case.

“Fuck!”

His voice startled you and as you turned around you noticed he was still struggling with his button. His vest was slightly in the way as well as his belt, which didn’t help.

“Need help?”

“No.”

He continued to try, frustration rising. The soft whimpers and groans made you pity him a little. After a while he looked closer to crying and you couldn’t just stand by and watch. You made your way back, standing between his legs again and gently swatted his hand away. To your surprise, he didn’t object. Instead, he softly gasped, stammering softly as your hand accidentally grazed him. You were unsure whether it was out of pain or… something else. A quick glance at his face confirmed that he was focusing on your hand, lips parted slightly. His usual slicked back hair was messier than usual and only now you noticed the dried up tear streaks on his face. You pulled down his zipper and stepped back so he could get off the table. He slowly lifted his gaze, cheeks slightly flushed and if you weren’t mistaken, his lower lip trembled a little.

“Can you stand?”

Quietly, Gator pushed himself off the table and stood in front of you, taller again. Except, he looked rather small, looking down at his feet like that. He sighed shakily, making no move.

“Do you need help, or…”

He shook his head and pushed his pants down just enough to reveal his boxers before getting himself back on the table and covering himself with the gel pack. A sigh of relief was heard but other than that, he made no comments, no snarky remarks. Very uncharacteristic really. Or maybe it was just him without the forceful mask on his face.

“I’ll grab something for your arm, I’ll—”

You turned away from him again but before you could step away you felt his hand enclose around your wrist again. The gel pack fell to the ground with a soft thud.

“Don’t.”

“I…” you hesitated on what to say.

“Please.”

His voice sounded fragile now, shaky. You nodded and slowly bent down to grab the gel pack and handed it back to him as he let go of your wrist again. While you weren’t sure what he wanted, you made sure to stay. There seemed to be a lot going on in that head of his. Suddenly quite aware of your close proximity, you didn’t know where to look. Even though his crotch was covered with the gel pack, it was still weird to stand between his legs as his cargos dropped below his knees and slowly sagged down. Your gaze was focused to the side, which is why you didn’t immediately notice how he slowly bent forward until his forehead rested on your shoulder. It sounded like he was holding his breath, anticipating your reaction nervously. 

Without thinking, you put an arm around him, your hand soothingly rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. A shuddering breath left him as he relaxed against you. A few minutes in, at least it felt like some, you felt him tense up again. Not much later you felt something wet dripping down your collarbone. He was crying.

“If it’s hurting that badly, maybe we should…”

“No,” he croaked out, arm reaching out to clutch at your hip.

“Okay. Take as much time as you need. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’m weak,” he managed to grunt. You weren’t surprised that a guy whose father was Roy Tillman had some deep self-loathing to deal with. In school it had always been obvious he felt pressured about living up to his father’s expectations. To be deserving of the Tillman name. He was as cocky as he was insecure. Still, no amount of pain justified being a grade-A dick to others. And yet… here you were, comforting the classic example of a grade-A dick.

“I don’t think you’re weak at all. Weak people don’t call themselves weak,” you told him softly, continuously rubbing his back. His breath shuddered when you gently readjusted the gel pack for him as it was slipping again.

“As if you know anything about weakness or strength,” he bit out, “you’re a female.”

“Right,” you mumbled, unimpressed. “Guess you’re weak then.”

A silence followed, apart from his soft sniffs, a reminder of his earlier crying. You felt him lift his forehead from your shoulder, breath tracing your jawline before his lips followed in its path. Your breath hitched, heartbeat quickening. Suddenly, his lips crashed on yours, demanding intimacy, taking it with some desperation. His lips felt chapped and for a second you were tempted to meet the roughness of his kiss but something in you held back.

In one quick move you pulled back and slapped him in the face. On the sensitive side, no less. He winced and looked betrayed, hand flying up to grab your wrist once more, tightening his grip until it hurt. You watched him closely, careful but not scared.

“Better not try that again without asking,” you warned.

“Or what?” Gator mumbled, his mouth curled down. Clearly not used to not getting his way. Well, too bad for him it had been you he wanted to kiss.

“Or I’ll squeeze your bad arm as hard as you’re squeezing my wrist right now.”

As if forgotten, Gator looked at his own hand and let go immediately, huffing a response you couldn’t make out clearly.

“Well then, shall we go?” you offered, not wanting to drag this out any longer. His injuries needed to be taken care of already. With clear disappointment he got up from the table and he let you help him get his pants back in place. The moment his hand reached out for your wrist you quickly pulled away and he looked up with genuine remorse. Hmm, interesting.

“Sorry,” he sighed and this time you let him take hold of your wrist, surprised when his touch was gentle as he rubbed his thumb over the most sore spot. “You’ve been all nice to me and I’ve been…”

“Yourself,” you finished with a shrug. Hurt crossed his eyes only for a second and you followed his gaze down to your wrist, where his touch was still so gentle.

“I’m not always like… that. I’m not.”

You cocked your head and watched him until his eyes met yours. There was a hesitance in them, but also determination. A soft smile graced your lips, which was met with the subtlest widening of his eyes.

“Maybe you could tell me more about that other you then, after we’ve patched you up.”

“Oh,” he said softly, followed by a nod. “Okay.”

“Come on, Sheriff Tillman.”

He smiled at your sarcastic, teasing tone and moved his hand down to yours to give it a light squeeze before letting go.

“Gator,” he corrected softly. “Just call me Gator, Y/N.”

“I was wondering if you’d remembered my name,” you chuckled.

“I always remember the pretty ones.”

“Flirting now, are we?”

“Maybe.” 

He tried to play it off cool. Until curiosity got the best of him. 

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

It was.

If you enjoyed this fic, please comment and/or reblog! It spreads my fic to other people to enjoy whereas a like does not, as much as I appreciate those too :) It would mean a lot <3

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

An Unlikely Pair

Your knee bounced up and down in nervousness as you waited for news in the little lobby. A little trembling chihuahua was on the left of you and a 3 legged Dalmatian on your right. It seemed to be a busy day for sure at the clinic as even more clients started coming in.

“Y/N?” the vet tech called from the door. You stood up and followed her as she led you to another little room where the vet and the little kitten you found this morning waited.

“How is she?” you asked. When you had dropped her off, she was absolutely filthy, barely breathing and couldn’t open her eyes. Had you not decided to go for a run this morning, you never would’ve found her. You figured some horrible person must have abandoned her there. Now, she looked completely different. Her bright fluffy orange coat was clean and her green eyes were alert.

“She’s good now. Just needed a good bath, warmth and a little food. She’s got a couple scratches on her face but those will heal with time. You said you found her in a park?”

“Yeah. I took a morning run and heard meowing from the bushes. She was tucked all the way in the back, I honestly thought she wasn’t gonna make it.”

“Well cats are pretty resilient. Were you planning on keeping her?”

You thought about the question and knew the dilemma. Jethro was not a cat guy. He loves dogs, doesn’t mind plants, but definitely doesn’t like cats. But if you didn’t take her, she would just end up at the shelter.

“We do have an onsite shelt-

“No, I’ll keep her,” you impulsively blurted out.

Crap, Jethros gonna kill you.

————

You sat on the couch watching tv when you heard Jethro come home. Quickly, you threw the blanket over the kitten in your lap.

“Hey hun. Dinners in the oven, you just gotta heat it up.”

He came over and gave you a kiss before going into the kitchen and preparing his food. Upset that she was being smothered, she let out a small meow. You just turned up the volume slightly on the tv. You at least wanted Jethro to eat before you broke the news to him.

Once he heated everything up and sat at the table to eat, the kitten let out another meow.

“What was that?” he asked, looking around.

“The tv,” you lied smoothly.

Thankfully, the kitten decided not to make any more noise while Jethro finished eating and cleaned his plate.

“So you’ll never believe how my day has been going,” you started. “I was going for a morning run because I wanted to see if I could beat my personal best, which by the way, I’ve come to the conclusion that I could probably beat Torres in a foot pursuit. And as I passed by that park over on Downey St, I heard something crying.”

Jethro stood in front of you, drying his hands with the kitchen towel, attention now fully on you as he listened, making you nervous.

“Normally I wouldn’t investigate a weird noise at the park, especially because you could find a person sleeping in the bushes or some rabid raccoon, or-

“Sweetheart, you’re rambling. What did you find?” he pressed, wanting to speed the conversation up.

Instead of explaining, you just pulled the blanket back and showed him the little ball of fur. She looked around before seeing Jethro and pulled her ears back in displeasure before giving him a tiny hiss.

“No,” was all he said before walking off to the bedroom. You put the kitten down on the couch and followed him.

“Honey wait. I know you dont like cats but this one is so cute. And I rescued her. I couldn’t just leave her there to die. And I couldn’t give her away to the shelter. Who knows if she ever would’ve found a home.”

He stopped at the stairs and turned to you.

“She’s already up to date on vaccines, the litter box will be in the laundry room, and she’s so tiny you won’t even know she’s there. Please Jet,” you pleaded.

He sighed and you knew right then, you already won.

“If she scratches up anything, she’s out,” he threatened.

You beamed with joy and wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug.

“You’ll come to love her, you’ll see.”

————

It was a love/hate relationship between the little orange cat and Jethro. Mostly because every time Jethro tried to get close to her or you, she would give him a swat and hiss. She loved messing with him and knocking all of his stuff off the shelves when he accidentally left the basement door open. There has been multiple times that he’s had to pick up broken jars fulls of bolts and nuts off the floor. The only love part of the relationship is for you when he sees how happy she makes you.

The sound of Jethros heavy footsteps coming up the stairs woke you up from your sleep. Looking at your phone, the time read 2am. You didn’t move from your spot as he came in quietly and got changed.

“You’re gonna have to move your little gargoyle out of the way,” you heard him grumble after a minute. Smiling, you turned on your side and saw your kitten giving Jethro a glare that might equal his own.

“Just tell her to move hun.”

“She doesn’t listen. Something you two have in common.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you picked up irritated kitten and brought her to the other side of the bed so Jethro could get in.

————

Pulling into your driveway, you parked right behind Jethro’s truck and made your way to the house. As you opened the door, you were greeted with a little bouquet of flowers and a little note that read Welcome Home. You smiled at his sloppy writing and figured he was down in the basement building that boat of his, so you dropped your bags by the couch and walked downstairs.

What you saw, you weren’t expecting at all. Jethro was busy vice gripping different parts of the boat while his furry nemesis laid lazily on top, watching him curiously.

“How was your mother’s?” he asked, grabbing a tool right next to your kitten who didn’t even make a move to swat or hiss at him.

“Uh, it was nice. Got to see Dad’s newest addition to his pocket watch collection.”

He chuckled as you walked over and gave him a long hug.

“When did you two become friends?” you inquired, pulling back and motioning towards the small feline.

“She climbed the living room curtains and got stuck. Ever since I helped her, she won’t leave me alone,” he explained.

“Awe, she connected with you. You’re her savior honey,” you teased, watching as Jethro reached out to pet her and she accepted it happily while purring.

“Yeah well next time she decides to use our curtains as a vine, I’m not saving her.”

You laughed and gave him a kiss. You knew sooner or later, he would warm up to her.

Note: I purposely didn’t give the cat a name because I wanted to leave that up to the reader but gave it a color because I just feel like Gibbs and orange tabbys have the same vibe. 😂