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phantastus · 2 years ago

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Stanley Coleman, Alessa and Kaufman for the bingo?

OH BOY ANON....

*rubs hands together*

"obsessed with their character arc". For a character who literally never once appears onscreen and has very little solid information about them, I think Stanley is fucking fascinating. Of course, he has literally no stated backstory so THIS FASCINATION IS ADMITTEDLY BASED ON WHAT MADE THE MOST SENSE TO ME: that he is a former member of the Order who was iced out specifically because he got TOO creepy about Alessa for the rest of the cultists to handle. I think this is extra interesting because it adds another flavor of how individual Order members view Alessa/Heather, in addition to the viewpoints of Claudia/Vincent/Leonard which are addressed more directly. I know some people out there interpret him as like, idk, a creepy thing conjured up by the Otherworld that doesn't actually exist? But I think that "an actual flesh and blood human being who doesn't even care about the main plot but who is nonetheless stalking Heather around because he's the Order equivalent of someone who only goes to church because he has, like, erotic fantasies about being in love with but also mutilating Jesus" is so much scarier. I guess he doesn't really have an arc though unless you count his obvious buildup towards what was almost certainly going to be attacking Heather directly.

"constantly listening to songs/holding up like a paint swatch". HERE'S SOME STANLEY MUSIC, ENJOY: "Insect Eyes" (Devendra Banhart), "Only Heather" (Wild Nothing), "Days Without Paracetamol" (Snow Patrol), "Dreaming" (Bruno Coulais, Coraline OST), "#1 Crush" (Garbage), "Angel" (Massive Attack), "Movement of Fear" (Tweaker), "Whispers in the Dark" (Skillet), "Eat" (Force/Jarboe, The Path OST)

"I WANT TO STUDY THEM LIKE A COCKROACH". this speaks for itself honestly

"what's wrong with them (affectionate AND derogatory)". Affectionate because so me he is one of the scariest things in the series and therefore his presence in the narrative is a net positive. Derogatory because fuck him.

"I would never want to meet them". Stanley is the living personification of r/letsnotmeet.

"BITING AND KILLING AND MAIMING". BITING HIM BITING HIM RIPPING HIS FLESH FLINGING HIS BODY AROUND LIKE A DOG TOY

_______________________

"everyone but me is wrong about them". I don't think this is necessarily true within the FANDOM but in terms of mainstream interpretations of the SH series it drives me batfuck insane that the most common take-away of Alessa is that she's insane and evil and somehow separate from/hateful towards Heather as a person. This is PROBABLY because of the movie but it's weird how many people literally think she's just the Scary Vengeful Child Ghost trope instead of like.... literally anything she actually does in canon.

"obsessed with their character arc". LOOK............ [gestures helplessly at every word I've ever written about Alessa, Cheryl, and Heather collectively].

"done dirty by the fans/creators". See answer no. 1, and I do feel that interpretation sometimes seems to seep into later series installments/spinoffs even if not directly. (Supposedly in an early pitch for Homecoming, Josh was supposed to become "like Alessa" but with water instead of fire, and they were going to have a telepathic Ghost Showdown against each other???). It's just weird to see a character who is like, explicitly sympathetic (the whole evil spirit thing was literally a fabrication made up by Dahlia to trick Harry into helping her) in the narrative get boiled down in interpretations/analysis to just be Cheryl's evil shadow self or something.

"ADOPTION PAPERS". IN EVERY SENSE EXCEPT PHYSICAL, I AM HARRY MASON. C'MERE KIDDO LET'S GO TOSS A FRISBEE AROUND. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO YOU I WILL KILL EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND THEN MYSELF. (Harry wouldn't do that.)

"constantly going insane rotating them like a fork". See answer no. 2. I can't elaborate or this post will never get finished.

"constantly listening to songs". [eyes turn completely black, starts speaking in tongues]: "Firesuite" (Doves), "Till the Clouds Clear" (Lamb), "Where Did I Leave That Fire?" (Neko Case), "Laura Palmer" (Bastille), "GLM" (Thoushaltnot), "Ashes" (Promare OST), "Not As We" (Alanis Morissette), "Lilies" (Bat for Lashes), "Coming Back to Life" (Pink Floyd).

"they've never done anything wrong in their life". THE LAST TIME SHE HAD THE ABILITY TO DO ANYTHING BUT DESPERATELY SURVIVE, SHE WAS SEVEN. EVERYTHING AFTER THAT WAS FULLY JUSTIFIED.

___________________________________

"wasted potential". This is really only because the storytelling in SH1 was limited by default-- he's closed off and mysterious and never really gets any kind of backstory outside of very small details. It would have been neat to see more about him. Instead I had to invent a whole-ass offscreen narrative about his shitty small-town drug empire.

"popular ships for this character suck". I GENUINELY DON'T THINK THERE ARE ANY POPULAR SHIPS LEFT but I know that at one point there was a lot of Kaufman/Harry around for seemingly no reason other than him being the only other shippable man in the game lmfao. I think a better ship is Harry's BOOT + Kaufman's ASS!!!!!!!

"constantly listening to music". Why yes I DO have a Michael Kaufman playlist folder! However upon scrutiny the only songs it truly needs are these three: "The Package" (A Perfect Circle), "Dogs" (Pink Floyd) (yes, all 17 minutes of it), "Give Us the Rope" (The Protomen).

“I WANT TO STUDY THEM LIKE A COCKROACH”. LOOK, HE’S INTERESTING IN MY IMAGINATION.

“I would never want to meet them”. He’s a fucking asshole.

"BITING AND KILLING AND MAIMING". GIVE. US. THE. ROPE.

______________________________

THANK YOU FOR WAITING AND ALSO FOR READING LITERALLY ANY OF THIS. I missed rambling about Silent Hill.

#Silent Hill #Stanley Coleman #Alessa Gillespie #Michael Kaufmann #kit rambles about silent hill #asks 4 me

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moonshineboyz · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Dare || Eric Sohn

Pairing: sub!Eric x dom!fem reader

Genre: Smut, college house party

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, dry hump, slight handjob, tiny bit of choking, unprotected sex

masterlist ♡

“Truth or dare, Y/N/?” Your friend asked holding back a smug smile.

“Dare.” You didn't think much of it, already tired of being in that situation. Moreover, it was just a stupid game, it couldn't be something that bad... right?

“I dare you...” She thought tapping an index finger on her chin, looking around the circle of people sitting on the floor quietly waiting with anxious eyes. “… To sit on Eric’s lap. Like, kinda dry humping, you know?” Your eyes widened at that, a visible teasing smirk on her face now.

“What?” You scoffed. “No way I'm doing this. Not at all.” You shook your head, furrowed brows. There wasn't a minimal possibility in you doing such a thing with your friend.

You looked over at Eric, his eyes just as widened as yours, glued on the bottle in the center. Not that you thought he wasn't good looking or something of the sort, it's just that it felt weird, he was your friend after all and you couldn't think it'd be a good idea. Even though a little spark of curiosity ignited within you, but you decided to ignore.

“You're no fun.” Your friend faked a pout and giggled. “Okay, so... truth: would you sit on Eric's lap and dry hump him?” You just stared at her, not knowing why the hell she insisted in picking Eric out of all the other people in there. There was absolutely nothing between you two other than a friendship, and you were starting to worry that things would get awkward with him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, of course not.” You stated sternly rolling your eyes at the end. “Okay, next.” You quickly stretched out your arm to spin the bottle so the game could continue.

Not even waiting for the bottle to stop spinning, you got up on your feet and excused yourself saying that you needed to use the bathroom. You glared over at Eric and saw the lingering shock mixed with embarrassment in his face. You made eye contact with him for a millisecond and turned to the door, leaving the room that was filled with giggles once more.

As you closed the door behind you, your ears were welcomed again by the loud music coming from downstairs, questioning why you'd agreed on going to a house party. You made your way towards the bathroom down the hall, trying not to bump into some random drunk bodies and couples making out.

A sigh of relief left your lips as soon as you locked the door. Coming near the mirror, you noticed how your eyes were starting to get red due to the tiredness accumulated from the week. You needed to go home in that instant if you wanted to get some sleep and be able to get up early next morning. “Fuck projects on Saturdays.” You thought to yourself.

You turned on the faucet and wet your nape a bit in an attempt to refresh yourself. Looking back in the mirror while fixing some strands of your hair, a thought came back into your mind, what if you had accepted that dare? How would it had felt like? How Eric would feel like against you? You got surprised by your own mind, especially by the last question. You shook your head as if to clear your mind and get these weird thoughts away.

Getting out of the bathroom, you went straight into the kitchen, willing to have one last glass of juice or soda before going home, to which you thanked heavens for being able to find a second option to drink since you weren't having alcohol. You filled yourself a cup of orange juice, happy not to see many people in this part of the house, them being too focused on getting more drinks and some snacks, so you wouldn't have to engage in an unwanted small talk with any of them. As you were looking out the window, lost in your own thoughts about the project you had to do, a familiar voice called you.

“Y/N! Noona, I was looking for you!” You turned to see your pink haired friend coming your way. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You nodded signaling for him to continue. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Hmm, are you, perhaps... by any chance... mad at me?” Eric asked hesitantly, expression on his face telling you he was afraid of your answer.

“What? No! Why would I?” You chuckled lightly.

“Because of... that dare?” He more asked than answered you and you raised your brows. You slightly cursed at this topic being brought up in your mind again.

Waving your hands as in a “no” motion to calm his worries you said: “No, no, it's okay. It's not even you who dared me.” You offered a kind smile. “And you?” Eric tilted his head and looked at you a little puzzled, you chuckled again. “Are you mad at me? I mean, I'm sorry I said that in a rude way, I didn't mean to. It's just that it weirded me out and... you know, we're friends...”

“Yeah, I understand. And I'm not mad at you either.” You nodded at his words and looked out the window once more to avert his gaze, and in that, you missed the way his cheeks got rosy. “So... we're good?”

“Yeah, we're good.” You smiled up at him reassuringly. You finished your juice in one last gulp and placed the glass back on the counter top. “I think that's enough partying for me tonight.”

“You're leaving already?” Even though it was just a tiny bit, it was visible the sadness in his eyes.

“I'm getting sleepy and bored.” You shrugged. “How are you going home?”

“Actually, I was supposed to leave with Sunwoo and sleep at his place because we have training tomorrow. But I bet he's too busy making out with someone right now.” He let out a small airy laugh.

“Well, you can sleep at mine. I think there's still a pair of your clothes from the last sleepover we had.”

Eric looked at you and then at the floor, debating with himself whether or not he should take your offer. “Are you sure? I don't want to bother you I can-”

“It's alright, I also have to go to the campus in the morning so we can go together. Plus, my house is closer to campus than Sunwoo's.” He gave you a wide smile deciding to leave the party with you. “Have you drunk?” You watched as he slowly shook his head mumbling something about just having soda all night. “Good, so you're driving.” You said tossing him your car keys and walking to the front door, ready to leave the house.

“Wait, really?” He took hurried steps to get beside you, eyes ten times bigger as he asked. You giggled at his cuteness, fighting the urge to pinch his cheek.

“Just because I'm tired and you need to practice.”

“Wow, thank you, noona! You're the best!” Eric smiled bigger than ever.

“Yeah, yeah, just don't crash my car and don't try to kill us.” You rolled your eyes jokingly at him strongly nodding all excited. He was like a puppy.

Eric was always like that, following you around, giggly and energetic saying how nice he thought you were and how he liked to spend time with you. Sometimes you found he resembled a little kid, with sparkly eyes and talking in a rushed manner gesturing his hands. And when you laughed at anything he said, he'd open the biggest smile turning his eyes into crescent moons.

You had such a soft spot for him.

It was hard not to, actually. He constantly tried to show how much he cared for you, listening and supporting you when you needed it. Never wanting to bother or disappoint you in any way.

In the calm ride back to your house, you kept giving Eric some directions on where to turn, since he didn't know that neighborhood very well. When you got to a more known route and he didn't need more instructions, your mind began to wander. The thoughts of him being a sweet nice friend now giving space to the ones about how he could be so determined and focused. And damn, you just noticed how hot he looked when focused and serious like that.

You could tell by his stiff body that he was a little bit nervous in driving someone else's car, but you thought it just added to the hotness. His perfect side profile and sharp jaw line, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Your eyes traveled from his soft pinkish lips to his arms and the way they flexed as he grabbed the steering wheel, making you gulp at the sight. You quickly glanced from his chest to his thighs and turned your head to look at the road in front of you, cursing at how you were thinking about your dear friend.

Not much time later you arrived home and Eric parked your car perfectly, turning to you with an expecting expression waiting for some sort of feedback.

“You did great, really. Just need to remember to turn the headlights off.”

“Oh, right! Sorry.” He widened his eyes noticing the light reflecting ahead of the car and you chuckled.

As soon as you both stepped inside, you made your way to your own room, telling Eric he could take a shower first if he wanted and his mentioned pair of clothes was in the spare room. You started moving around grabbing the stuff needed for the project next morning, too distracted that you didn't even notice Eric anxiously standing at your door until he called you.

“Noona, I know you're tired but can we talk? I need to get this off my chest.” Worry and a tint of fear were written all over his face. You hummed and signaled him to take a seat on your bed, following him when he did. The boy closed his eyes taking in a deep breath. “Listen, I'm really sorry. It's just that I don't know what to do, I shouldn't but I can't stop thinking about it and it's driving me crazy-”

“About what exactly, Eric?” You cut him off, feeling anxious at him beating around the bush.

He dropped his head and closed his eyes shut, one hand intertwining fingers with the other, knuckles white from the strength he was applying. “Earlier. The dare. I wished y-... I-I just got curious ab- I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me.” He wanted to curl himself up out of embarrassment, waiting for you scold him.

But instead, your eyes grew bigger and your heart started racing. You had no idea he'd be thinking about this like you were and honestly, you found it interesting. With butterflies in your stomach, you touched his shoulder softly calling out his name saying you weren't mad, which made him look up at you but not raising his head, too afraid you'd get angry. “You want to try it?”

He sat up straight surprised at your question, avoiding your eyes. “N-no, you don't have to, I just needed to-”

“I'm asking if you want to. It's okay.” You gave his knee a gentle squeeze and it was like the air got knocked out of his lungs when he slightly nodded and said “yes” in a small voice. Cheeks immediately getting flushed, you smirked at that.

You pointed your finger, indicating Eric to sit a little further on the bed, leaning his back on the headboard and you wasted no time in straddling him. Your heart was pounding so much as you looked deep into his eyes, sensing the nervousness, so you leaned in closer and whispered in his ear for him to relax. Deciding that you needed to make him relax yourself, you planted a kiss on his jaw to which he inhaled deeply and you could see his skin already getting goosebumps, softening his body.

You ran your fingers through his soft pink locks and tugged lightly at it, to make him give you more access to the skin. Trailing open mouthed kisses down his neck you left a hickey and Eric gasped when he felt your tongue tracing the mark you just made, bucking up his hips. You felt him getting hard and started to move your hips in a circular motion, but in a languid rhythm, making him shudder with the increasing arousal, added to the way he'd been thinking about you all night since that stupid game. And the fact that he had you right there in his lap but still couldn't get satisfied made him groan in frustration, growing needier by the second.

“This needy already, baby?” A hearty chuckle left your lips. “You can touch me.” You whispered noticing how his hands were gripping the bedsheets and Eric immediately grabbed your hips, trying to pull you closer to his crotch.

“Noona~ hmm stop teasing,I-” He got cut off, breath hitching when you repositioned yourself to better align your already throbbing core to his hard cock. Grinding down onto him, Eric sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a moan, but let out a small whimper.

“Don't hide your moans, baby, I want to hear you.” You lowered your face to suck on the sweet spot of his neck, causing him to moan and grab your hips harder. “That's better.” You smiled leaving wet kisses on his skin and raking his scalp, to which the boy whined. You applied more force to the friction, seeing him writhe underneath you and finding sinfully beautiful the way he furrowed his brows with eyes closed and breathed heavily, groaning in a low tone.

You looked at his lips, slightly swollen by the biting to hold his noises and you felt the urge to taste them. Both your hands went to each side of his jaw holding his face, you leaned in closer and let your lips brush over his, softly at first, finally clashing at them when he didn't pull away. You inhaled in deeply, feeling lightheaded with the new sensation.

Eric's hands timidly caressed your thighs, but grabbed the flesh strongly the moment you licked his bottom lip and caught it between your teeth, gently nibbling at it. Your tongue soon met his and you felt shockwaves run down your spine. The kiss felt like heaven but with a tint of something lustful and vicious, just like a sweet but strong wine. And you were more than willing to get drunk on it.

The make out was messy and sloppy, filled with heavy breaths and small whimpers. You never stopped moving your hips and by the way Eric was starting to shake, digging his nails into your skin, you guessed he was close. You thought of letting him come undone just like that, but decided on something better.

You pulled away, taking in at the blushed cheeks and dazed look on his face up close and hop out of the bed. His confused expression asking why you left him like that, right on the edge of his release.

“What? I'm giving you something better instead of letting you cum in your pants.” You chuckled and he blushed harder. “Now take your clothes off, baby.”

You watched his trembling hands slide his pants off of him together with the underwear and get rid of his shirt. You stared at his beautiful naked body laying there on your bed, patiently waiting for your next move. The tip of his dick was angry red, twitching and dripping precum onto his abdomen as you slowly unbuckled the belt of your high waisted shorts. His eyes were glued on you, hungrily scanning your body and cursing under his breath about how hot you were.

“N-noona, you're so beautiful.” Eric shifted in his place, wanting you to touch him again.

Staying only in your black and red bra, you walked up back to the bed and sat on Eric's thighs, lightly scratching his abs and making him shudder. You wrapped one hand around his cock and smeared the leaking precum with your thumb, gaining a gasp from him. You pumped him slowly but with a tight grip, gyrating your wrist. The other hand sneaked up to his neck, fingers closing around it putting just a small pressure.

“Will you be good to me?” He nodded. “Use your words, honey.” You purred, voice like satin and a faint smirk playing on your lips.

The boy gulped and you felt it against your palm. “I-I'll be good, noona, I promise.”

You smiled mischievously pumping his shaft for a few more seconds before standing on your knees to straddle him in a better position. Your cunt was aching to clench around something, wetter than you've ever been.

With one hand you held on Eric's shoulder and the other guided his cock to your entrance, rubbing the tip on your folds at first and circling your clit, making you both jolt a little due to the sensitivity. You played like that a bit more and sank onto him, feeling him stretching you out and let out a broken moan. “You feel so good, baby.”

You trailed your tongue on the side of his neck, taking in the saltiness of the thin layer of sweat that was starting to form on the skin and rotated your hips teasingly, he was stuffing you so good you rolled your eyes.

His knuckles turned white from the strong hold in your waist as if you were going to disappear. He thrust up, whining as he reached deeper inside you, your pussy so tight around him. Just by the way he started panting looking at you half lidded eyes, you knew he wasn't going to last long, and to be honest neither were you.

“Be good and stay still.” You said with lust dripping from your words like they were pure venom.

You lifted your hips just to sink back down onto Eric, setting a lazy rhythm just to last a little longer and enjoy the feeling of his cock massaging your inner walls.

“C-can I kiss you?” The boy asked in a husky voice, letting out a moan in the end and you couldn't say no. You pulled him closer by the back of his head crashing your lips together and kissing hard. He whimpered into the kiss when your nails raked his nape and you took the opportunity to slide your tongue inside his mouth, swirling it around his till he pulled away heavily breathing. “Please, can I touch you more?”

You smiled to yourself, seeing how eagerly your friend seemed to want you and that made you want to tease him a little more. “What's that? You like fucking your noona, hm?” Your hand caressed his flushed cheek, thumb tracing the outline of his lips. “Tell me, baby, you wanted this so much, didn't you? Have you thought about it?” He squirmed biting his bottom lip and shyly nodded.

“Noona, please, can I touch you?” Eric repeated his question, hands itching to travel up your body to touch your breasts but you shook your head, telling him to just keep his hands on your waist or he wouldn't get nothing at all. But he could kiss it though, to which he quickly started littering kisses all over your collarbones and chest, biting onto the soft skin.

The pace of your hips increased, bouncing on his cock and letting out soft moans and dirty praises. “What a good boy. You're so obedient, baby.” He was indeed being so good to you, but it was so hard to keep his hips in place or not to use his hands to explore your body. Your hand pulled his hair to make him look up, while the other went to wrap around his throat, making his jaw drop, eyes fluttering shut. “Think I should reward you more often. What do you think, would you like that?” You scratched his abdomen again, earning a husky 'please' from him.

You started riding him in a desperate rhythm making him go even deeper, nails digging into his shoulders, his dick hitting the right spot inside you each time your hips met, to which your vision blurred, finding hard to keep your eyes open. A knot was forming at the pit of your stomach and you could already feel your release at your fingertips.

Everything felt just too much for the poor boy, amazingly too much. He was so overwhelmed by the feeling of being swallowed by your warm wet cunt and the way you looked like a goddness while riding him so good, calling him baby was making him almost lose his sanity.

“Y/N ngh- noona... shit-” Eric cried out, your walls contracting so deliciously that he couldn't help but to spill himself to the very last drop inside you, cumming while he repeated your name as if it was the only thing he knew. You drank in the way he threw his head back rolling his eyes.

“Fuck, you look so cute when you cum, baby.” You tried to maintain a steady voice but it came out shaky by how his cock was twitching. Your body began to spasm, never stopping your erratic moves to chase your own climax, with hips stuttering.

All the tension built up in your entire body snapped like electricity spreading under the skin and you bit down onto the crook of Eric’s neck to muffle your moans when you came around him, clenching so much it made him arch his back. Huffing and puffing you sloppily undulated your hips to come down from your high, prolonging the feeling of tremors running through your body.

You collapsed resting your forehead on his shoulder trying to catch your breath and when you did, you slowly slid him out of you making him sigh and started to leave butterfly kisses on the boy’s neck where you had left marks earlier to which he chuckled.

“And you wanted to go home because you were tired.” He said jokingly and you blew air from your nose lifting your head to stare at him.

“And I was! But someone was needy.” You teased back. “Now guess we’re gonna be late in the morning.” Your finger pointed at the clock on the nightstand stating that was already past 1am.

Eric shrugged, looking up at you with lazy hooded eyes, a faint blush on the cheeks complimenting his slightly swollen lips and a little bit of hair sticking to his forehead. His skin was glowing. “I don’t mind, it’s already worth it.” You thought you saw a different spark into his eyes, different from the looks he gave you all night, this was a hungrier one.

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Sam Winchester: Thoughts

*Credit to the gif owner*

Pairing: Sam W. x reader

Pov: Sam

Warnings: Fluff, Sam can hear the readers thoughts, Sam falling in love with the reader, Dean is here to help the plot

Summary: Sam gets cursed after the Dean, Y/n, and Sam hunt a witch. The next morning when he wakes up all he can hear is Y/n thoughts, and he’s slowly start to fall in love with her.

A/N: Using @firefly-graphics Sam Winchester divider for this fic. This fic is sorta based on "What women want" with Mel Gibson. A good ol' Romantic Comedy.

Word Count: 2.3k

Main Masterlist Sams Masterlist

Taglist: @sweetdetectivequeen

A witch hunt couldn't possibly go wrong, right? Especially with the Winchester boys.

"Look lady, sit down before I shoot," Dean shouted, causing Y/n to flinch. Just enough of a flinch that I would be having a conversation with Dean later about no yelling so much.

The witch sat down, but what nobody noticed she was casting a spell under her breath. Dean, Y/n, and I had huddled together trying to figure out what we were going to ask this damn witch.

My back facing the witch. Dean looking over my shoulder looking angrily at the lady. Y/n had her game face on. She sometimes followed us around like lost puppies, but damn was she a fucking awesome hunter.

Sometimes better than Dean and I put together.

When I say that she followed us around like lost puppies I mean she never said what she thought. Dean or I would come up with a plan and she never put input in. Just kinda did what she was told. Reminds me of a younger version of Dean and myself.

Working our asses off for John, all for it to be for nothing. A good little soldier and that was all we were to him.

In the end, Dean just ended up letting the witch go since she hadn't any information. We all pilled back into the impala for the drive back to the bunker.

Y/n fell asleep in the back seat curled into a ball and looking rather peaceful. "Y'know I was thinking lover boy that maybe she could stay permanently with us," Dean said referring to Y/n in the backseat.

I just rolled my eyes before turning to look out the window. The drive was shortened by the fact that at one point my eyes were open and scanning the passing environment.

And the next minute I was dreaming a nice dream. I had a family a beautiful wife standing on our front patio, and watching our daughter and I play with our puppy.

It was nice, it was peaceful. But when I was looking around my dream, I noticed that every face was blank. Well, there goes the normal dream.

The shaking of my body woke me up. "Yo, wake up. Get your shit and go the bed." Dean said, pushing me closer to the passenger side door.

Stumbling out, I walked groggily to the back of the impala and grabbed my bags. Slinging them over my shoulder, I saw Dean try to pull Y/n from the back.

"Sweetheart, we made it home." Dean whispering. His hands falling underneath her knees, carefully picking her up out of the impala. "Open the door would Ya, instead of just standing and staring," Dean said still whispering.

I ran over to the door opening it. "Dude get some sleep, I'll get Y/n settled in, kay," Dean said passing me. Shrugging my shoulders and yawning as I walked to my room.

Stripping down to my boxers I collapsed into bed, loving the coolness of my sheets. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was out like a light.

Dreaming wasn't something that always happened for me, not since I first started hunting with Dean. But those weren't dreams those were more like nightmares, of people that I couldn't save.

I fell back into the same dream as before, still no faces. But the woman I assumed was my wife as a familiar voice, our daughter was what seemed like she was tops five or six.

Cute little thing, long brown hair like my own, wearing a cute sundress that was blue with green flowers printed on it. ' Dear, are you guys ready for dinner?' the woman asked me. I tried to not stare at the fact that she had no face, so I just hummed. Picking up our daughter.

'Tank you for playing with me daddy!' my daughter said to me bringing her small hands and arms and hugging me around my neck. Besides having no faces everything else seemed normal, my wife's voice seemed all too familiar and it was honestly getting at me. Before I was able to ask her something I was pulled from my dreams.

Waking up was a bitch. My neck was sore, and so were my shoulders. Deciding that today I wouldn't take that mile run, I opted for staying in bed just a bit longer this morning.

Finally getting up when I smelled coffee being made in the kitchen. Grabbing a pair of sweats that were laying around, I slipped my slippers on and went to go get some coffee.

The first thing I saw when I walked in was Dean dancing along to his horrible 70s and 80s rock. Flipping pancakes and sizzling bacon. 'God, why'd he choose no shirt this morning' "Huh? Did you say something Y/n?" I asked her, looking at her for the first time since last night.

She had her hair up in a messy bun, wearing a flannel of Dean, and a baggy pair of shorts. "No, I didn't say anything, Sam," Y/n said pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, continuing reading her book.

Okay Sam you have to admit that was odd and kinda creepy. Not that I mind being complimented, but still weird. "You gonna get your cup of coffee or just stand there looking like an idiot!" I heard Dean crack.

"No," I answered back grabbing a coffee cup that was next to the machine. 'Jeez Dean way to be an asshole towards Sam.' There it was again Y/n voice.

Turning around rather quickly which only hurt my neck even more. "Did you just say that?" I asked panic starting to overtake my body and instincts. y/n looked over at Dean, causing Dean to look over at me.

"Dude what are you going on about?" He asked me... eyes big I just waved his question off, "Never mind I think I must have hit my head last night." I said just wanting my morning coffee more than anything.

The rest of the morning went by fine. No hearing Y/n voice, but then again, she wasn't around for the rest of the morning. "I'm heading out to the shops; I need a new pair of jeans. If either one of you wanna head out with me that's fine too. If not that's okay too guys." Y/n said mostly talking and looking at me.

'Please come out with me Sammy' I heard. Ignore it, rolling my eyes before speaking again. "No, it's okay. Dean?" I spoke. "Nah, I'm fine dear. But thanks." Dean said using his signature wink.

As Y/n walked away I heard her voice again, 'Jesus Dean, stop with the nicknames, and the winking. Obviously, it's not working.' That was the last I heard the sentence.

Dean wants to be with Y/n. I don't, I can't see that going very well, Dean sees Y/n more as a sister than anything else. What does that mean it's not working?

Hours later Y/n came into the bunker carrying a few bags. "I thought you only needed a pair of jeans, Y/n?" Dean snarked. "I did, but you guys were running out of some things, so I grabbed some other shit." Y/n countered.

Well, I can't deny that Dean and Y/n do have a certain chemistry, one that she and I just don't have. "what did you get?" I asked moving the conversation along. "I umm... I got you guys some t-shirts, some more socks, and just something fun for both of you." She said shyly.

"That's great, thank you. Did you have an okay time?" I asked, 'No, Sam I didn't that's why I wanted you to go with me. So many gross old men hit on me.' I heard Y/n's face was only scrunched up for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I had a perfectly fine time. Really did enjoy the alone time." Y/n said winking at us. Dean just rolled his eyes and jumped up to go through the bags, but Y/n swatted his hands away.

Digging into the bag she pulled out pie for Dean and he took off with it like he was a squirrel. Y/n looked back over to me and then started to look through the other bags. "Here Sam. I didn't know if you already had this book, but I thought why not." She said, shrugging her shoulder in a cute sort of way.

"Here for a gift return, a Winchester hug, yeah?" I said laughing a little bit. "I don't see why not, I heard that they're hard to come by," Y/n said back rounding the table in an effort to get on a very one-sided hug.

I hadn't realized until recently how much shorter Y/n was compared to me. I could fully rest my chin on her head. 'God I could use this more often' I squeezed her in my arms. 'God, he smells so great' I heard again, she nuzzled her face into my chest. 'He gives much better hugs than Dean.' I heard.

Y/n was the one to let go of the hug, not me. I was starting to realize that it was in fact Y/n I was hearing just not the words coming out of her mouth, it was her thoughts.

That night I convinced Dean that I could make dinner. For the time I was at college and dating Jessica I had learned some good enough cooking skills. "Fine whatever you do just don't ruin my pans and pots!" Dean screamed from his bedroom as I walked away.

That night I cooked a shrimp alfredo, and chicken alfredo with noodles. Something simple but it was mostly all the food that we had left in the bunker kitchen.

"Dinners ready you two!" I hollered from the library, Dean running from the garage, and on the other side of me was Y/n walking down the hallway. 'Look at him, damn chiefs' apron' I looked down and saw that the apron said "kiss the cook" Damn Dean.

'I'd definitely kiss that cook.' I heard as she walked past me. I just followed her with my gaze, mouth slightly open. Hoping that it wouldn't fall straight to the floor.

"Well dig in. It won't kill you, Dean." Y/n said. Dean just put his hands up in defense it's not like he had said anything but we all know he was thinking it instead.

Dinner went by quickly, few words from any of us, and not many thoughts passing through Y/n's mind. Besides 'Damn, he's got skills, 'So much better than Dean would ever do' I snorted when I heard that thought. Dean looked over at me, "What's so funny Samuel?" He spoke.

I rolled my eyes, "It's Sam, Samuel sounds like an old fashion name" I said. "Nothing is wrong Dean." I finished. 'If nobody thought you guys were brothers, they should spend at least a few hours with you.' I heard.

"Can we not fight at the dinner table, please Dean," I asked. I was trying to lean into what Y/n was saying, or more thinking. By the end of dinner Dean had eaten another serving and was now on his second piece of apple pie and a glass of hard crown apple whiskey the Y/n had bought earlier that day.

"Good night you two love birds. Tweet tweet. I'm heading to bed." Dean said kissing Y/n's temple, and patting my shoulder he walked out of the library.

"I'm sorry about him, Y/n. He doesn't have a sensor." I said apologizing for my older brother. Y/n got up waving him off and grabbed the leftover dishware.

I followed behind her grabbing what she couldn't. "He's fine. He should know better, but he's okay Sammy." Y/n said. Not many people called me Sammy besides Dean and Y/n, but it always seemed sweeter coming out of her mouth.

Y/n started to wash dishes. "Can I ask you a question Y/n?" She hummed, so I continued on. "Why do you never say anything while we are on a hunt. You don't always have to follow out stupid ideas...." I said noticing that Y/n had now turned around and was facing me.

"Look I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that I'd like to know what you're thinking for a while. especially when we are on a hunt. Your opinions matter to me. I hope you know that." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

'Shut up would Ya'. You don't know how much that means to me.' "I know that you can hear what I'm thinking." Well, that went south very quickly and my stupid facial expression doesn't help the situation. "How long have you known?" I asked.... We stood in silence beside the water in the sink running. "Since before dinner when I was thinking about kissing the amazing chef that made dinner. Because I would still kiss the chef." Y/n said. setting the plate down on the kitchen island.

'Do you want me to kiss you, Samuel?' She said in her thought. I hummed. Shaking my head, licking my lips in anticipation. 'Words Sammy Dear.' She thought. "Just come over here. If this is what happens when I can hear your thoughts, I may be okay with being cursed by a witch ever so often." I said before our lips crashed together.

Our kiss was short-lived when Y/n left mine. "What are you talking about the witch from last night's hunt?" I shook my head. "We need to go get that witch, kill her, get her to remove the curse. Whatever, because as much as it's cute somethings a girl wants to keep to herself." Y/n said, coming back up to my lips and pecking them.

"You're gonna be the death of me," I said, before following her over to the sink to help wash dishes. I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n. I thought.

"Hey... I heard that." Y/n said. I rolled my eyes, "No you didn't." Confusion replaced Y/ns soft features. "Okay, what did I say then, Y/n?" I asked. "I think I might have fallen in love with you Y/n" Y/n answered.

"Damn it. We really gotta find that witch, Samuel." Y/n said.

Completed on: 04/11/2021

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ambivalent-anarchy · 4 years ago

Text

Body

Part 1 of 2

Part 2

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

Anon requested- can I get a one shot where the reader does the body positivity trend with the new megan thee stallion song and the reader is insecure about how ppl will react to it?? Most importantly how peter will react to it?? K thanks

Awww I love doing smol readers and where Peter's actually the one that has it together lol sooo thanx for this

The TikTok is that new body positivity trend with that Megan Thee Stallion song. Couldn't link it because tumblr acts weird about links but part 2 will have a video for Peter. Also reader will be 18 (senior in high school) cuz some people think minors shouldn't participate in the trend lol

A/N: Either a motivation fairy hit me in the middle of the night or I'm really just that bored to the point where I had no choice but to get my motivation to write back. Either way I'm happy lol. Enjoy! Thanks to @yumings and @kelieah for helping me feel confident in this lol

Will definitely be a two parter🙂

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

Body oddy oddy oddy oddy oddy oddy oddy-

You'd finally finished editing the video.

It was a simple, short collage of all of your favorite selfies and pictures that showed off your body well. There was a new trend going around on TikTok and when you saw it you just had to jump at it headfirst.

People would take their favorite pictures of themselves, ones that showed off their bodies just the way they liked, and they'd put it to the sound of Megan Thee Stallion's song "Body".

You looked through your entire phone gallery to find pictures that you were confident enough to post, some you'd forgotten you even took in the first place.

When you were done, you threw in the simple caption that everyone was using.

Heard we're using this sound to show off. My turn then😜

Yeahhhhhh, the caption sounded much more confident than you actually felt.

You actually thought about deleting it from the minute you posted it. Insecure wasn't even the word for it. And even with your followers there to hype you up, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. So, albeit hesitantly, you went to your friends for support.

The first person you showed was Michelle.

"You killed that," she said in math class as she passed you the phone underneath the table so that the professor wouldn't see.

"Thanks," you said. "I was honestly kinda nervous about it." You noticed her incredulous look and explained yourself, toying with the loose strings on your jacket. "Like seriously, I don't wanna fish for compliments, it's just that there are so many better ones out there."

Michelle gave a lopsided grin. "That's just you being insecure, you dork," she retorted. "You look hot." She gave an uninterested glare at the teacher when they told her to be quiet. Then she turned towards you with a smile. "You shown Peter yet? I bet he'd agree."

You shifted in your seat nervously and MJ immediately caught on. "What, you don't wanna show him?" She gave you a look when you took a while to answer. "Dude he's literally your boyfriend. I'm pretty sure he'll like it."

"MJ, we haven't even-" you looked around secretively. "-we haven't even taken our shirts off in front of each other yet. There's literally a pic of me in my sports bra and I.." You shrugged, a little embarrassed by the conversation topic. "I-i just don't know how he'd react."

You and Peter were a fairly new couple and were taking it slow. You'd only ever kissed, cuddled, and held hands so far. Plus, you were a major causal clothes wearer. Sweatshirts and jeans, those were your specialty. The two of you were in no rush and you were both fine with that, but you had no idea how he would react to seeing pictures of you like that.

And, though it wasn't the most feminist approach, you kinda wanted to impress him. Was that so bad?

MJ, forever the voice of patronizing reason, rolled her eyes at you. "So, let me get this straight. You're not fine with your boyfriend seeing sexy pictures of you, but you're okay with literal strangers seeing you instead?"

"Look, I know it's-"

"No, no I totally get it," she said with a sympathetic smirk, before laughing. "I just wanted to show you how dumb it sounded though."

The bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"Look," she said, standing up and getting her things. "You have nothing to be worried about. Peter practically worships the ground you walk on. He'll love it."

When you showed Ned, he genuinely didn't give a shit.

"Oh my God, there's a new Megan Thee Stallion album?!"

"Uh, yeah."

"I have to listen to it right now!"

"Yeah okay, but do you like the-"

He was already plugging in his headphones before you even finished your sentence.

You showed Harry next. If anyone was gonna rate you unabashedly, it'd definitely be him.

He was the only friend you had in your lunch period, so you met up with him every day. Towards the end of lunch that day, you'll pulled out your phone and asked if he wanted to see the video. He enthusiastically agreed.

He watched the short video with an amused expression, bopping his head to the music all the while.

When it ended, he handed you your phone back and gave you a high-five. "Damn girl!," he praised. "Just throwing it out there, if Peter fails you, I'm hella available."

"Heh, thanks." You smiled as you felt your entire face heat up. "Ya think he'll like it?"

"What, you haven't shown him yet?" You shook her head, giving a nervous smile. "Oh-" he nodded confidently. "-he'll love it. Trust me."

"Are you sure?," you asked.

"Yeah," he responded with a shrug. "Why are you so worried?"

"Because he's not-..he doesn't really seem-" You couldn't find the right words for it. "I dunno, I just really want him to like it!"

Harry scoffed. "Look. Let me tell you a little secret about Peter Parker," he snickered. "Or practically all guys for that matter."

"Okay?," you said, curious as to where this was going.

He smirked. "You remember when he introduced himself to you at my party last summer?"

You nodded.

"Well, hon..." Harry lowered his head to where he was whispering in your ear. "Your personality wasn't what he was noticing from across the room.. catch my drift?" He chuckled when he saw you blushing as you caught where his eyes had wandered. "Just sayin'."

Seeing your incredulous expression, Harry continued. "Peter likes to act like he's not checking you out every second of the day, but I promise you he is. That little "I'm so respectful and bashful" crap he has going is complete B.S."

You smirked and rolled your eyes as he pulled away from your ear and kept walking. "You're an ass."

Harry shrugged. "True, but I'm a realistic ass." The alarm on his phone sounded which marked his time to start heading to his next class. Standing up, he smiled down at you. "Seriously, if I could take back all the time spent listening to Pete go on about how good you look in your jeans, I'd be one well rested guy."

You rolled your eyes, but it betrayed the small smile growing. After all, he wouldn't be Harry if he wasn't a flirtatious dweeb. "Bye Harry."

"Show him the video, [Y/N]. He'll love it. You know I'm right."

And then there was one...

Later in the day, you were talking with MJ after school, waiting because Peter always insisted on driving you home because chivalry was not going to die as long as he was alive to keep it going.

When he finally showed up, the first thing he did was take you by the hand and give you a quick peck on the forehead.

"How are you guys doing?," he asked as your little trio started to walk.

"We're good," you chirped, ever so conscious of the phone in your pocket that you were suddenly very hesitant to pull out.

MJ noticed and nudged you. "You got anything you wanna show anybody, [Y/N]?," she asked with a smirk, causing Peter to look at you curiously.

You stayed quiet, but MJ still wasn't putting up with it. "I think you may have a video that you made..."

You remained silent and Peter looked at you, a lot more confused now. MJ frowned. "Um... cough.. cough."

Peter laughed and stopped walking. "Okay, what am I missing?" He looked to you and when he didn't see your expression falter, he looked to MJ. "What's going on?"

Michelle shrugged. "[Y/N] wants to show you a dumb TikTok she made but she's scared about how you'll react."

"Michelle!," you scolded.

She shrugged again. "What? You weren't going to say anything anytime soon."

"A TikTok?," Peter questioned. "Cool, which one did you do this time?"

You could feel your face heat up for the hundredth time that day. "It's a...um.." You stared down at the ground. Jesus, this was hard. "..It's a body positivity trend."

His eyebrows went up at that. "Oh, well um.. is it cool if I see it?," he asked.

You blushed. "Sure." You pulled out your phone and opened the app. When you got to the video you quickly shoved it into his face before you had a chance to second-guess yourself.

Both you and Michelle watched Peter's face as he watched the video.

His cheeks immediately turned red but his expression was unreadable. He had to have watched it over 5 times before MJ pulled the phone out of his hand. "Helloooo, earth to Peter Parker?"

She snapped into his face several times and he started to blink wildly, apparently being pulled out of a trance. "I...um- heh.."

You gave a small, nervous smile. "..did you like it?," you asked, growing confused as stared at you, his expression still the same. "Um, Peter?"

Suddenly, he smiled and let out a little chuckle. "Sorry... just..." He laughed again and scratched his head, unable to keep eye contact. "You're just- like.... really hot."

You blushed. Fuck. "You're not just saying that are you?"

"No, really like-" He looked back at the phone. "...Damn." He bit his lip. "How on earth did I get so lucky?"

"Okay, can we please get in the car before I throw up?"

The two of you looked at an uncomfortable MJ with embarrassment riddled on your faces. "Yeah, totally," you said with an awkward cough. "Sorry."

"Nice video [Y/N]," Peter murmured bashfully, opening the door of his car for you, his face still beet red. "Really nice..."

Tagging: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil l, @yumings, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @tommyunderoos, @chaoticpete, @snarky--starky, @sovereignparker, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky, @eridanuswave, @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr , @kidney9-9, @gwenvrse

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agentsoftie · 4 years ago

Text

stitches and ditches

summary: y/n and spencer get in a fight. due to the fight y/n goes to the hospital where she gets taken. spencer has to find her before it’s to late

a/n: plot holes. plot holes everywhere. so i’m sorry for that, super sorry. also like i don’t really know how to write fight scene and stuff ig so sorry if it sucks. and i skipped like 3 classes for this, so don’t let it flop

warnings: fight, angry spencer, torture, a case, violent spencer (idrk what to call it) and whole lotta angst. i happy ending though! kinda, idrk

word count & pairing: spencer x (fem) reader & 4.1k

remember to like and reblog!!

It all started the day he came home from work. This was one of the longest trips he’d been on so you decided to make him his favorite. Pumpkin Pie. And god knows how hard it is to make pie, but you did it anyways, for him. It wasn't too late when he got home but It wasn't too early either. More like the time right after dinner and just before dessert. You had just got the pie out of the oven when you heard the door open and someone walk in.

“Spencer! Finally you’re home! How are you!” You said while he put his bag away. He didn't turn to look at you yet which was kinda weird since the first thing he does when he gets home is kiss you right on the lips. “Fine,” He mumbled while sitting down at the table still not looking at you. “Spencer, come on what’s wrong?” You asked while grabbing his hands, but he immediately retracted. Which made sense because of who he was, but you’re not gonna admit that it didn't hurt. “Nothing Y/N.”

You knew that something was wrong, and it didn't take a profiler to see that. Everything about him was just off. “Come on, it's me. You can tell me anything.”

“Y/N.” Spencer said in a deep tone. You’d never heard him like this or seen in that sense. He was always happy to see you, to be with you. And were with his too. “Spencer no, come on. I can see that you’re clearly not fine. So come on, open up.”

“Y/N I said I’m fine!” You were appalled. He had never raised his voice at you, but it was bound to happen one day, you just. You just were shocked. “Spencer,” You said in a low voice completely contradicting his loud yell. “What!”

“Spencer calm down!” You say yelling at him. Although you realized that yelling at someone to calm down probably wasn't the best way to do it.

“No Y/N, you need to just stop and shut up!” Shut up. That’s the first time he’s ever told you to shut up. Infact, you think it's the first time he’s ever told anyone to shut up.

“Spencer just talk to me! It’s not that fucking hard!”

“No Y/N it is. It's tremendously hard and you just wouldn't understand.”

“Just tell me. And I'll see if I understand. But don't just gatekeep your emotions and feelings.”

“Y/N I said no! Why cant you listen to simple fucking directions! It’s not that fucking hard!” Each and every time he yelled at you, it's like your heart physically broke. And you could feel it breaking. But how do you tell him to stop? All you wanted was to know how he feels. Was that really so hard?

“Spencer why the hell are you acting like this! I understand that your job is hard but that doesn't mean that you can pour all your anger out on me! And if you are gonna do that, you can at least do the kind thing and share how you feel! And what's wrong! I mean, is that really so much to ask!”

“Oh really, that's how you wanna play this! You think this is just a little game don’t you!”

“Game Spencer! You think I play this as a game! Well this game is my life!” You were drop dead angered at this point. “What in the world gives you the right to act like this! Please, explain!” All he does is scoff at you. “I'm not joking Spencer! Why the hell are you acting like this! You've changed!”

“Oh I’ve changed! Y/N you've changed! You're always trying to kiss up my ass! I mean jesus! All you want is money! Like god!”

“Oh I want money! Spencer! I don't need your pathetic money! It may not have dawned on you since you couldn't bother to care, but I make a good amount of money. Yeah, you’re not the only one who paid for this place. So stop acting like you are.”

“Oh wow! Haha, you sick son of a,” He stopped immediately after realizing what exactly he was saying.

“Say it Spencer! Finish the goddamn sentence!”

“Y/N, you know I wont.” He says in a shift of tone. Still equally as affecting though.

“Why? Huh? You've already said so much, just wrap it up with a nice little red bow on top!”

“Y/N, stop,” He said, his tone getting more and more demeaning by the second.

“Do it Spencer! Do it!”

“Goddamn it Y/N I said stop!!” He yelled before throwing a glass at the wall behind you. You both immediately shut up, as trying to process what just had happened. Did he actually just try to hurt you? No, Spencer would never do that. Would he? You touched the back of your head and felt blood on your ear. You looked down at the blood and Spencer walked towards you but all you did was pull back from his touch.

“Don’t,” You mutter in fright. Putting your hands up against his chest, but not touching. His eyes looked at you as if they were trying to say something but just couldn't. You grabbed your purse, keys, phone, a coat, and slipped into some shoes. “Y/N, where are you going?”

“To the clinic or hospital or whichevers open right now. To get this checked out and stitched up.”

“Y/N, come on just stay here. I can stitch it up. I can do everything. Just dont leave. Im sorry, okay. I- I don't know why I did that. I promise I didn't mean too.” He begs and pleads but you just can't say with him tonight. No, not tonight. Tonight was too bad, tonight was a dent that was not going to be fixed.

“I just can't, Spencer. Okay, not tonight. There’s some pasta in the fridge, and I love you… I guess.” And with that you got in your car and left leaving Spencer to just sit in his own tears. He just sat at the table thinking of everything he did wrong. Everything that went wrong. And the worst part is that absolutely nothing wrong or bad happened at work today. He was just exhausted, that's all. And instead of telling his girlfriend, he started a fight. And he knew that you were in the right, for everything.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Dr. Michael Gray. And it looks like something happened to your ear.” He says while standing at the door.

“Oh hi! Haha. And um… I thought that nurses were supposed to, you know, stitch up stitches.”

“Oh yeah, well they are. But you’re just so gorgeous I pass up the offer.”

“Oh, haha,” You say, not knowing how to feel. Although there was one thing you knew, and that was that this was uncomfortable as hell. “Well, I mean I do have a boyfriend.” You said just so he wouldn't try to make any moves.

“Oh well hey! Do you have any siblings or friends? I'm fine with absolutely anyone and everyone.” He says while disinfecting your ear and pulling the glass out.

“You’re Pan?” You ask to distract yourself from the pain.

“Yeah. You’re not gonna request another doctor now right?” He asks while carefully taking out the glass and putting it on a white napkin in front of you. That was a big piece.

“No, of course not!” You say in offence. “How could you ever think that.”

“It happens a lot with people. Especially the pretty ones. They automatically get turned off when I tell them I like everyone. I don't care about your gender, just your personality and how you treat me.”

“Oh well I would never. And it sucks that-that happens.”

“Yeah. Okay, so here comes the fun part. Hey, how did you even get these stitches? Or, why do you need them? Like how did you get to this point?” He says while slowly stitching up your ear.

“Ha, I get it. You’re just fine. And all of this is due to my boyfriend.” You say in pain.

“Wait,” He stops doing what he’s doing and just stands there. “Your boyfriend did this?”

“Yes. And before you say anything else, I am not in an abusive relationship. Okay, he just had a bad day and I guess I made it even worse. And trust me, he didn't mean to do it.” You say as he finishes stitching up your ear.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight?” He asks while pouring out a liquid into a small cup.

“No.”

“Then, come stay with me. At my place. And here drink this, it’ll help with the pain. A lot.”

He says while giving you a small cup filled with what looked like to be a crushed up powder poorly mixed in with water. Or whatever that the liquid was.

“Oh no. We just met.” You spoke before drinking it.

“You got anywhere better to stay? Plus my shift ends in 5 so it would be the most practical decision.”

You knew that it was wrong. After everything that Spencer had told you. But for some reason you still went. Even though you knew you should have gone back home to Spencer. And god knows what he was doing right now. But you couldn't just let your pride fall and go home. That would be pathetic. “You know what, okay! I mean what the hell! You seem nice and I’m not in the mood to face him again. Or at least for now.”

“Sweet!”

“Just one question… are you gonna kill me?” It was a stupid question to ask, you know. But after everything that Spencer and his family have been through. And with what happened to haley, you just couldn't help but to ask.

“No Y/N, I’m not gonna kill you. Now come on, let me get logged out and let's leave this place. Oh and Y/N, you can call me Michael.” He says while taking off his lab coat.

“Okay Michael.”

He brought you into his car and the drive to his place felt like hours. Although you really couldn't remember most of it since you passed out a quarter way through. The last thing you do remember is him putting his hand on your thigh and looking over at you with a smirk.

It had been 3 days. 3 days since you left to get your ear stitched up. 3 days since Spencer had last seen you. Since you had seen him. Or any of your friends. 3 days since you left your life. In those 3 days, Spencer completely lost himself. All of the books were on the floor. The bed was an absolute mess. And the kitchen was left just as it was the night it happened. He, himself, was a mess. His hair had not been brushed. He was still wearing the same clothes. And he’d been surviving on coffee and granola bars.

“Guys, we got a new case, come on.” Penelope chimes as they all do paper work. Spencer can’t help but look at his phone every 2 minutes just waiting for a text or call or any sign of life and/or love.

“What’s wrong pretty boy?” Derek asks.

“Yeah, you've been acting tense lately.” JJ adds.

“Nothing, It’s just Y/N,” He gruffs.

“Do I smell relationship problems,” Derek says jokingly.

“Derek!” JJ scoffs. “What's wrong Spence?”

“Nothing I just… Look, something happened, and now she’s not answering any of my text and calls, and I'm starting to get worried. That's really all there is.”

“Well what happened exactly? To you know, make her leave I guess.” JJ asks.

“Um, we had an argument. A pretty bad one. I came home after the case. The Checkersfeild one. And um, I was just tired. And instead of telling her that, I got super mad and said some things that I regret. And also did a thing I regret. A lot. And I would explain everything to her if she answered whenever I called or texted but she didn't.”

“How bad was the argument?” She asks again.

“Pretty bad. It was our first, but it was really bad. Just words coming and pouring out.”

“Spencer, how long have you and Y/N been dating?” Derek asks in shock at the fact that he just said ‘first argument’.

“2 and half years now.”

“And you two have never fought? What's this secret that you're keeping from me.”

“Well you know, we had our mutual disagreements. And sometimes we argued a little but it was small and it lasted for like an hour. And right after we would apologize and everything would be okay. It would all be fine.” Spencer said, his voice got longer and slower as the words went on.

“Wow, um… Spencer. You really love her, don't you.” Derek asked.

“Yeah. I really do, don't I.” Spencer says while walking into the briefing room.

As everyone sat down Derek couldn’t help but to keep looking at him. He knew that Spencer was hiding something, he just didn't know what. Or how to figure it out.

“Okay everyone this is Isabella Stines. The latest victim of our new unsub. Police are calling him The Ditcher. Since, as you can see, they leave the body in ditches after what looks like hours and hours of tourture. 5 other people were found too. First was Mindy Kindle, then Jake Johnson. Next, Rosé Hinnings, then we have Jennifer Gordon. And last, and hopefully least, Kross Noing. The ‘K’ is silent.” Penelope says while everyone looks down at the picture of the crime scenes and blood smeared across the screen.

“Do they have anything in common?” Spencer asks just before his phone starts ringing. He immediately picks it up even though the rule that Hotch made up states that you can't answer phones when you’re in the briefing room getting briefed for a new case. “Y/N.” Spencer asks, not knowing who this was since he didn't have enough time to look at the caller ID. “No, this is Sharron Richard, her boss. She hasn't shown up to work for these past days and we’re getting worried. She has a case coming up and this is a big one for her. We’ve been trying to contact her, but she’s not answering. So we called you since she left you as her backup or whatever you call it. So, have you seen or heard from her?” Sharron asks over the phone.

“Um no I- I haven't.” Spencer mutters through the phone so no one except Sharron could hear it. Although that failed miserably.

“Oh, okay. Well if you hear from her, or see her anytime soon. Please tell her to contact us.” And with that the phone was hung up.

“Pretty boy what was that?” Derek asks.

“Uh, nothing. Just a call from Y/N’s work. Apparently she’s been missing. Although you already knew that so…” Spencer said while looking down at his phone more time, then putting it away. Everyone just gave him this weird look of dissatisfaction.

“Okay anyway, yes there are some similarities. And luckily, all of these are taking place here so you guys won't be flying out anywhere! Or wait, isn't that a bad thing?” Penelope exclaims.

“Garcia,” Hotch says in his natural stearn and damning voice.

“Sorry boss. Anyways, The ME found traces of propofol and thiopental in each of their systems. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically a drug that doctors use to get patients into a coma before surgeries and/or if it's needed medically.”

“So only doctors would have access to it?” Emily asks.

“Over here in Virginia, yes. There are no stores that sell it here due to too many people ODing.” Spencer answers. “Garcia, did the ME find any signs of sexual assault?”

“No they did not. Looks like it was just tourture.”

“Hey Garcia, did they have anything else in common?” Emily asks.

“Yeah check this out. Each of the victims have a medical visit to “The Charleston Hospital” the night before dying. Or getting captured at least. And, it looks like each of them came in after what looked like an action of abuse. It was hard to spot but luckily the bill got it.”

“Okay, thank you Garcia. JJ, Prentiss, come with me. We’re going to the crime scene. Rossi, you go to the ME. Morgan and Reid stay here and try to find some things and connections. And Garcia, you just do what you do best.” Hotch says while getting up.

Everyone was gone from the briefing room except for Garcia who was taking down some files, and Spencer, who was looking at the file. But one part in particular. Could it have happened. No, it couldnr have. Could it?

“Hey Garcia?” He asked.

“Yes sugar,”

“Can I get something?”

“Why of course, what is it that you need?”

“Um, I need records and security tapes.”

“Come with me my sweet child.” She says while walking out the door and into her office, or as she likes to call it, batcave.

“Okay here are the records for-” She got cut off by a frantic Spencer.

“No, not for them, but for Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Your girlfriend?” She asks.

“Yes, my girlfriend.”

“Um, okay. So yeah. It looks like she went to Charleston um about 3 nights ago for some stitches.”

“And the security tapes. From that night. Can you see where she went? Or if she got in her car?”

“You doubt me. Don't doubt me. Okay so here. It looks like she got into this car. But, it looks like there is someone with her. Im sorry Spencer.”

“Don't be. Just, what’s the licence plate numbers?”

“Um, 56HI90ZC3. Spencer, if you want, we can talk about it.” She says in a soft tone. Thinking that his girlfriend would be cheating on one of her friends.

“No not now. I just need you to track that car, can you do that?”

“Done. Okay so it looks like the last time the car was spotted was here, Cherry Ann Avenue. It looks like they took a turn in this field, and that's all.”

“Great, I need you to contact Hotch and Rossi, and tell them that we got the guy.”

“On it. But, hey do you wanna talk about it?”

“Garcia, we don't have any time. Someone I love is in danger and I don't wanna waste a single second.”

You woke up to the smell of blood, the sound of crickets, and a gut wrenching pain, everywhere across your body.. Crickets everywhere. You looked down to see many cuts. Cuts all over your body, everywhere. And in one place, you swear you saw a knife. What had happened? How long was I out? You tried to remember everything but all you could was getting in a fight with Spencer and then getting in a car with a doctor. Or a nurse, or whoever they were.

“Ah, so you're up.” Michael said as he walked up from the shadows behind him.

“Who are you and what do you want?” You say trying your best to back away from him but something ties you down.

“You forgot who I am already. I must have added a little more meds in there for you. Huh, well that's alright. I’m Michael. More professionally, Dr. Michael Gray.” You just sat there trying to hear him over the intense pain you were in. Almost as if you'd been stabbed 100 times, maybe you had, who knows. “You see, your boyfriend was being the abusive piece of shit he is and so now I'm helping you. Helping you get better.”

“You sick bastard. You're not helping me, you're causing me pain.” You say as he gets closer and closer to your face.

“Shut up!!” He says as he slaps you. “I know what I’m doing!! Do you know how many people I’ve put out of misery!!” He yells in your face. You can feel the spit reaching your face as he does this.

“You’ve hurt those people. You've put them through pain. So much pain. Instead, you could have helped them. But this, this is not help, no this is torture, abuse, assult.”

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” He yelled while throwing the metal tray on the table across the room. “YOU KNOW WHAT, MAYBE WHAT YOU'RE PATHETIC LITTLE BOYFRIEND DID TO YOU WAS GOOD. YOU DESERVED IT!! Don't deserve me, or my help!”

You were shocked. You were scared. You were terrified. But you didn't want to admit it. And the sad part is, all he truly wanted to do is help you. But just at that moment you heard sirens. Sirens everywhere, and they got louder and louder until you saw the colors. Flashing up against the brown wooden wall and the shag carpeting on the floor.

Suddenly you heard a loud bang, the door had come down. “Michael Gray!” You heard someone yell. “Michael, we know what you've done, and we know that you’re here!”

“No, this can't be happening. No no no no no. NO!” He yelled in panic. The most stupid thing to do when you’re trying to hide.

Suddenly 3 people came rushing to the room. One of them happened to be your boyfriend. Who ran over to you immediately without any hesitation.

“Hey Y/N, it's me, Spencer. You're gonna be okay.” He said while holding you. All you did was smile and nod. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, but you just couldn't. You were so sore and tired. And all you wanted to do was go to sleep. Even though you knew that you shouldn't have since, well, you know. You would probably die. But you just couldn't help it.

You woke to a bright light. Or multiple in this case. Why was everything so white. White hurts people. You felt a tug to your hand as you saw who was holding it, Spencer. He stayed. And for god knows how long. He was asleep, and you didn't want to wake him. Poor boy looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep for the past week or so. You checked the clock as the time read 10:37pm. Perfect, just the most perfect time to wake up. You tried to grab your phone, but you had to stretch to get it, and you were not doing that.

Spencer, although woke up from your failed attempt at grabbing your phone. “Y/N, you're awake.” He said dreamily with his eyes half shut.

“Hi Spencer.”

Once he truly realized what was going on, he jumped up from his seat and gripped your hand tighter than before. “Y/N baby, how are you? Are you okay?”

“Well, truthfully. No, I am not okay. I mean, I just got tortured for god know how long, and I think I’ve been asleep. But again, I don't know how long. And oh god, I had my case that I’ve been working on for the past 6 months that was supposed to happen and I missed it!” You say as if the world was ending. He just looks at you. No emotion, just stares.

“Y/N it’s okay. I sorted that out, don't worry. You’re just okay. Why did you go with them anyway?”

You don't know how to respond. Do you tell him everything, or tell him nothing at all. Do you leave out some bits? No, he deserves to hear the whole truth. “Spencer, after what happened that night, I was terrified of what was gonna happen if I came home. And my friends were out of town. So I really had no choice.”

“Y/N,” His voice cracked. “I am so sorry for what I did to you. I truly didn't mean to do that, it just happened. And I don't know why.”

“I know.”

“You probably hate me, and I get that. I would hate me too if I were you. I mean, look at what I put you through. I’m so sorry. And I understand if you wanna breakup and stuff. But, I just wanna say that I love you. I truly do.”

“Spencer,” You say while looking down at your hands, then back up. “I don't hate you. I could never hate you. Not after everything you’ve done for me. I love you, I do.”

He just smiled and kissed you on your forehead. “Y/N, you wanna about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Everything that happened today.”

“Sure, but how about we talk about everything that happened the other day. I mean, I made you pie Spencer, Pie!” He just sat there while you were laughing looking into your eyes. “I love you.” He said. You just smiled and held his hand, “I love you too.”

tagging: @criminalmindsmoodrn, @marshmallowtraver, @ghostly-angelic, and @himarisolace

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reader x spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer #mira writes

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thompsborn · 5 years ago

Note

fic where harley is a doctor that works w helen cho that sees peter often because of how much he gets hurt from being spider-man? and they fall in love bc they r already smitten for each other bc why wouldn't they be

i didn’t know how much i needed an au like this until you sent it omg

[read on ao3]

—

He’s in the middle of taking a sip of coffee when the alarm goes off.

“Mister Keener,” Friday says, as he’s cursing over the hot coffee that’s soaking into the front of his shirt. Thankfully, it’s not hot enough to actually burn him, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. “Your assistance is needed in the Medical Wing.”

Harley frowns. “What time is it?”

“Four fifty eight in the morning, Mister Keener.”

“Jesus, really?” Harley sets his mug down and turns his arm over to look at his watch. His brows shoot up towards his hairline, surprised. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t realize it was... Jesus. Alright.”

Friday sounds almost amused when she tells him, “Doctor Cho is insisting you hurry.”

Harley sighs. “Yeah, okay. On my way.”

At this time of the night, the only medical staff on hand are the ones who live close by—like Helen, who has an apartment less than a two minute walk away—and those who live on site, like Harley, who’s had his own floor in the tower since he was fifteen and told Tony over a phone call that he was thinking about coming to New York once he was done with high school. Because of this, Harley isn’t all that surprised to find that it’s only him and Helen that show up in the MedBay—if anything, it’s what he expected.

And he should have expected who, exactly, they’re treating in the middle of the night, but he still finds himself mildly surprised when he comes face to face with Peter’s sheepish grin.

“Of course it’s you,” Harley says, standing at the foot of the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “Who else would be waking me up like this?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter says, sheepish grin turning a bit snarky. “You weren’t asleep.”

Harley purses his lips. “I could’ve been.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but doesn’t get the chance to respond before Helen is hovering by his side, snapping her gloves into place and instructing, “Friday, give me the run down.“

“Mister Parker has several second degree burns along his left leg and left arm,” Friday responds. “His right wrist is broken, and there appears to be a laceration along his abdomen.”

Harley winces in sympathy. “Rough night?”

Peter tries to shrug, but the movement makes his features twist up in a flash of pain. His voice comes out a bit strained when he says, “You could say that. There was—house fire. Not fun.”

“Get everyone out?” Harley asks, if only to provide a slight distraction as Helen assesses the broken wrist, likely checking to see if it needs to be reset or if it’ll be able to heal properly as it is. Peter tries for a grin.

“All of ‘em. Even the kids pet turtle.”

Harley pats Peter’s right knee, careful to remember that it’s his left leg with the burns. “Job well done, Spider-Man.”

“Harley,” Helen says, grabbing his attention. She’s apparently deemed Peter’s wrist not a main concern and is already peeling Peter’s suit off of him. Harley snaps into focus instantly, listening intently as Helen tells him, “I need you to take care of the laceration while I get started on the burns. When that’s done, we need to get that wrist in a cast until it heals.”

Peter pouts. “A cast? Really?”

Helen looks at him sharply. “Last time we didn’t put you in a cast, you managed to re-break your arm before it could heal. Twice.”

Peter’s pout vanishes with a meek chuckle. “It was an accident?” he offers.

“You, Peter Parker,” Helen says, averting her attention back to his burns as she speaks, “are somehow my best and my worst patient of all time. And I’m Tony Stark’s doctor, too, so that says a whole lot about you.”

“Hey—” Peter cuts off with a hiss as Harley starts to disinfect the large cut on his side. Harley offers an apologetic half smile that Peter waves away with another wince and a wobbly sort of grin. “I’m not worse than Mr. Stark.”

Helen hums, high pitched and teasing.

“I’m not,” Peter insists. “I’m not!”

“Believe what you want,” Helen tells him.

Peter huffs. “Why are you being mean to me? Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice to their patients? Isn’t that, like, a thing?”

Harley snorts when Helen says, “Next time, don’t wake me up at four in the morning with second degree burns and a broken wrist, and maybe then I’ll be nicer to you, hm?”

—

The thing is, Harley didn’t plan on this.

As in, growing up, he was sure that what he wanted was to be a mechanic. He loved to build, take apart, recreate, understand. It’s all he ever did. Hell, when Tony Frickin’ Stark broke into his garage, the guy ended up making Harley his own mechanic heaven to say thanks for helping him out.

And Harley still loves all of that, to be fair—he spends a lot of his free time tinkering in Tony’s lab now, helping him out with whatever the man’s working on and often working on his own fun little projects on the side—but it’s not his main drive. It’s not the center of his world.

He thinks it started when he saved Tony.

In a way, anyway—he had only been twelve at the time, and it’s not like twelve year olds are exactly apt on having life changing realizations that change the course of their future. Still, he was a twelve year old that saved Tony Stark’s life, and there was some kind of thrill, almost. It was hard to explain then, and Harley isn’t sure if he could put it into words now, but the feeling had made his fingers feel all tingly and his heart thud heavily in his chest. It was similar to when he built his first successful bot and it came whirring to life, only the feeling was intensified.

He felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He knew he wanted to save lives.

“You’re getting better,” Helen tells him, after Harley’s helped the medical team with bandaging up the members of the Avengers that just returned from a mission. None of the wounds had been major, mostly just scrapes and bruises, but it’s the most amount of people Harley has helped treat at once, which is a big step.

Harley shrugs, drying off his hands, having just finished washing them. “You’re a good teacher.”

Helen chuckles at that. “How are your classes?”

“Good,” Harley answers, nodding his head. “Kinda boring. I know most of it already, thanks to all the training you’ve given me, but that‘s not really new. I knew everything they taught me in high school, too.”

“You sound like Peter when you say that,” Helen muses, an amused quirk to her brow.

Harley rolls his eyes. “Y’know, people keep saying that, but I only see him when he’s bleeding out and that doesn’t make it feel like we’re all that similar.”

“Oh, you’re similar, alright,” Helen says, laughing a bit. “You’re both genius kids who bust your asses off to save people’s lives.”

Wrinkling his nose, Harley says, “But I don’t do it in spandex. Key difference there, doc.”

Helen holds her hands up in some kind of surrender. “Just saying, you two are alike.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that next time he breaks his leg,” Harley quips.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Friday interjects, “but Spider-Man is reportedly injured and heading to the tower now. ETA of six and a half minutes.”

Harley rolls his eyes up to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. Helen can only laugh.

—

“Ow. Ow, ow—oh, Jesus, that’s—ow—!”

“Sorry,” Harley says, only averting his eyes for a second to flash Peter an apologetic look before focusing back on the stitches he’s giving him.

Peter curses, slamming his left fist into his own thigh as Harley pushes the needle through. “This sucks,” he complains, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. “This is—why is this worse than getting stabbed? Why do I prefer getting stabbed over this? This blows.”

“You need to stop moving,” Harley tells him.

Making an indignant sort of noise, Peter asks, “How the hell am I—I can’t stop moving! This hurts, man, like—like, really fuckin’ hurts!”

“Moving makes it worse, dipshit,” Harley retorts, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know what else makes it worse?” Peter glares at the wall. “Not having pain killers.”

Harley does roll his eyes now. “Not my job. I just give you the drugs, I don’t make them.”

“I know, but Mr. Stark isn’t here for me to bitch at, so I’m complaining to you about it instead.”

Harley can’t help the way that he snorts at that, finishing off the last of the stitches as he does so. “I usually don’t like to listen to someone complain while I’m working.”

“Sucks to suck,” Peter replies. “Are you done?”

“Yep.” Harley leans back, taking off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. “Any other injuries? Stab wounds? Broken bones?”

Peter hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I don’t think so. Friday?”

“All clear, Mr. Parker.”

Harley frowns. “The fact that you had to ask worries me.”

Peter shrugs. “I get hurt a lot. Kinda used to it.”

“Still,” Harley says. “That’s concerning. Like, you still feel pain, right? You would know if you were hurt somewhere else, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, trust me, I feel pain,” Peter snorts. “But some things just... don’t matter? Like... I dunno, but if it’s not serious, it’s like my brain filters it out on it’s own to focus on other things. Which, probably, y’know, not good, but, like, oh well.”

“Definitely not good,” Harley murmurs, frowning to himself as he squints around the room for a moment. “Well, if you have nothing else, then you’re good to go. And, honestly, thank god that’s all you have, ‘cause this is the first time I’ve done anything without Helen around and anything more than stitches would’ve had me flipping shit and fucking it all up.”

Peter lets out a light laugh, pulling his shirt down, over the gash that Harley just finished stitching. “You wouldn’t fuck it up,” he says, sounding light and humorous yet entirely serious, too. “You’re, like, really good at your job, Harley.”

Harley scrunches his nose up on his face. “Ew. Don’t be nice to me. It’s gross.”

Peter laughs again, a little bit louder, though the way it makes his stomach jump has him wincing when it pulls at his stitches. “I’m serious!” he insists. “Like, I know you’re still a med student and stuff, but Helen is probably the best person to be training you, so you’re, like, more qualified than most normal doctors. You have the experience that most people still in med school don’t have. I mean, you patch up the freakin’ Avengers, Harley! You gotta be good at this to do that!”

“I help patch up the Avengers,” Harley corrects. “The only person I’ve ever fixed up by myself is you, thanks to your insane ability to always get hurt.”

“It’s a talent,” Peter shrugs. “And hey, I bet it keeps you entertained.”

Harley snorts. “Entertained is not the right word for it, Spidey. Impressed, maybe, by just how much trouble you’re capable of getting yourself into.”

Peter grins. “Gotta impress people somehow, right?”

—

Harley wouldn’t call it bonding.

Because it’s not. It’s not bonding. It’s small talk, and pleasant conversations, while Harley sets a broken bone or treats another burn. It’s filling the silence because, apparently, Helen trusts Harley to handle Peter on his own, unless it’s a major injury that requires more than one person on hand, and Harley isn’t sure why he’s being trusted with this, but he’s pretty intent on not fucking it up.

But it isn’t bonding. They’re just... acquaintances. Who talk. Like, a lot, because Peter comes in at least four times a week needing treatment for something, and that gives them a lot of time to talk. Maybe Harley learns a lot about Peter during this time, like his favorite song, and what his comfort hoodie is, and why he became Spider-Man in the first place. Maybe Peter learns where Harley is from, how he met Tony, and what made him decide to be a doctor over a mechanic.

Maybe, after a few weeks, they start having inside jokes, built not only from the time they spend alone together, but also from the months upon months that Harley was helping Helen treat Peter, too. Sometimes, Peter snorts so hard that he reopens his stitches and Harley has to fix it. Sometimes, Harley can’t stop laughing when he needs to have steady hands and he ends up hunching over on himself and wheezing because of whatever it is that Peter said. One day, Peter comes in when he isn’t injured, dressed in casual clothes with a few textbooks from his ESU courses in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. “I’m headed up to see Mr. Stark,” he tells Harley, “but I thought I’d give you this,” and he holds out the cup of coffee with a big, cheesy sort of grin.

“Why?” Harley asks, though he accepts the cup gratefully.

Peter shrugs. “I’d probably have bled out ten times over if it weren’t for you, and you looked, like, really tired yesterday, so I thought you might need it.”

He is tired—exhausted, really, because his classes may not be hard but there are some big tests coming up that he needs to study for and it’s hard to find the time to study in between training with Helen and doing all the millions of other assignments that are being tossed his way. He takes a sip of the coffee, hums in satisfaction at the way it warms him up, and says, “Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” Peter tells him.

So, maybe they’re friends. Maybe—maybe—Harley is starting to look forward to seeing him and keeps trying to think of a casual way to offer they hang out sometime, outside of the med bay. Maybe Peter starts bringing Harley a cup of coffee every time he goes to visit Tony, and maybe Harley starts to feel a little thrill whenever he hands the coffee over and their fingers briefly brush.

Maybe it is bonding, but it’s not a crush. It’s not.

(”You’re adorable when you’re in denial,” Helen tells him.

Harley sinks in his seat and tries to disappear. “Shut up.”)

—

The letters of his textbook are blurring in front of his eyes when the alarm rings.

He jumps at the sound, looks up at the ceiling with slightly squinted eyes and furrowed brows, expecting Friday to calmly inform him that his assistance is needed in the med bay, like usual. Instead of that, though, the alarm continues to blare, and all Friday says is, “Urgent. Urgent. Urgent.”

Which is code for: someone’s about to die if he doesn’t hurry.

Instantly, he jumps to his feet, feeling wide awake despite being on the brink of dozing off just a few short moments ago. “Okay,” he tells himself, rushing out of his room and sprinting towards the elevator, which is already open and waiting for him. He only just barely thinks to swipe his tablet along the way, clutches it in his hands while he says, “Okay, okay, okay—who, uh—Friday? Who is it?”

“Iron Man and Spider-Man are both heavily injured and require immediate assistance,” Friday informs him gravely. “Doctor Cho is already treating Mr.Stark and has told me to inform you that you will be in charge of Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, god,” Harley breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving himself a second to take a deep breath while the elevator takes him down to the proper floor. “Jesus. Okay. I need, uh—give me a list of Peter’s injuries, Fri.”

“Of course, Mr. Keener.”

The list is sent to his tablet immediately, and it’s—extensive. Third degree burns and multiple shattered ribs and various bullet wounds, only some of which are clean through, meaning that there’s various bullets that they need to remove before Peter starts to heal around them. The more he reads, the faster his heart thunders in his chest while his mind automatically sorts through it to think of what needs to be prioritized, what to treat first, and how to keep Peter alive.

By the time he reaches Peter’s room, he has a game plan figured out, and he only falters for a short moment when he sees Peter on the hospital bed, writhing around and sobbing in pain. The rest of the medical staff in the room freeze, likely already aware that Helen put him in charge, and wait with bated breath.

“Alright,” Harley says, mostly to himself. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

—

Maybe it is a crush.

Harley is finding it hard to deny it now, as he sits beside Peter’s hospital bed, his hands feeling a little bit shaky where they’re clasped together and hanging between his knees. They had to undergo emergency surgery, and Peter’s heart had stopped four times throughout the procedure. Bringing him back had been the most panic inducing thing Harley has ever experienced in his life, and he couldn’t even show it because he was the one that was put in charge.

But they did, all four times —they got his heart going again and they got out all the bullets and treated all the burns and did everything they could to stabilized the broken bones. They gave him multiple IV’s, all of which he’s still attached to, and he hasn’t woken up since he passed out from the pain shortly after Harley’s arrival—and he passed out looking at Harley, too, with wide, pleading eyes that seemed to be begging for mercy, filled with agony and despair.

Harley would do anything to never have to see that look again.

“How’s he doing?” Helen asks, stepping into the room. She looks tired, undoubtedly exhausted from doing whatever she could to stabilize Tony just a few rooms down. Harley feels that exhaustion in his very bones.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Harley tells her. “Lost him a few times, though.”

Helen hums sympathetically. “But you got him back.”

Harley hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, we did.”

“Good,” Helen says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did good.” She stays like that for a moment, doesn’t move, and Harley appreciates the gesture but kind of wants to be alone. Maybe she senses that, because a moment later, she’s pulling her hand back and asking, “Are you staying here?”

“‘Til he wakes up,” Harley tells her.

Helen smiles at him warmly. “Make sure you get some rest, too, okay?”

Harley doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep until he sees Peter awake and talking again, but he still nods at her and says, “Yeah, alright.”

After Helen leaves the room, after it’s just Harley and Peter again, he finds himself reaching forward and taking Peter’s hand in his, and, other than the innocent brush of fingers when passing a coffee cup, this is the first time they’ve touched outside of Harley treating Peter’s wounds. It’s a bit of a startling realization, but Harley finds comfort in the contact, listens to the steady beeping of the heart monitor and starts to relax with the reassurance that he really did good, that Peter is going to be okay and Harley is the one that saved him.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but with that relief flooding his veins and Peter’s hand in his, he finds himself dozing off and doesn’t bother forcing himself awake.

—

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s waking up, his senses still muddled with sleep. It feels almost as if he’s floating in unconsciousness, warm and comfortable and—

“Harley?”

And he wakes with a jolt, eyes snapping open and instantly searching, only coming to a stop when they land on wide brown eyes looking right back at him. “Oh,” he breathes, blinking once and sitting up straight despite the way it makes his back complain. “Oh, my god. You’re awake.”

Peter tilts his head, just a little bit, and looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Right. That.” Harley clears his throat and scrubs his free hand over his features, trying to wake himself up with a sheepish little smile. “It’s, um—not important, actually. How do you feel? Any pain, discomfort, anything like that?”

For a moment, Peter doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at their hands before rasping out a hoarse little, “’m kinda—kinda thirsty. M’throat hurts.”

Instantly, Harley gets to his feet and pulls open the mini fridge in the room to grab a bottle of water. He takes it back to Peter, hands it over, and feels somewhere stuck between doctor mode and something else, the worry and the uncertainty and the fear from hearing the flat line all mixing together until he feels nauseous with it. Peter accepts the water bottle gratefully, takes tentative sips from it and only winces slightly when he swallows it. “Better?” Harley asks.

Peter smiles, a bit small and tired, but just as genuine as always. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Harley murmurs, hovering by the chair he had been sitting in before. “Is there anything else? Just, like—anything at all? How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Peter tells him. “Like, um... groggy, y’know? And... out of it.”

Harley nods, a bit relieved that the dose of pain killers he chose was the right amount. “That’s to be expected. You were really roughed up, Pete.”

Peter frowns down at his water, brows knitting together. “What happened?”

“There was an ambush,” Harley tells him. “I guess Doc Ock was out and about, so you went to confront him and he got enough hits in to alert Tony, so he went to help you out, but Ock apparently teamed up with Rhino and they were able to catch you guys off guard and get the upper hand. Rhodey and a few others went to help out, but they didn’t get there in time to stop you guys from nearly getting killed, so, when you came in, it was... not pretty. But, you’re both gonna be fine.”

He wants to say that it’s not a crush. It can’t be a crush, isn’t supposed to be one, even if seeing the way Peter lets out a puff of air and relaxes back into his pillows is kind of a... not so bad sight. He looks tired and a bit beat up and a little too pale, but he’s good. He’s alive. Being alive looks good on him.

Maybe, Harley admits. Maybe it is a crush.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, head lulling back into the pillows. He holds out a hand and Harley isn’t sure what the action is for, but he doesn’t think before reaching forward and tangling their fingers together.

Harley clears his throat. “What for?”

“Not letting me die,” Peter says.

The mere idea of letting Peter die makes Harley’s heart stutter in his chest. “Of course,” he mumbles, a bit stricken. “I’ll always save you. It’s my job.”

Peter squeezes Harley’s hand, falls asleep with a sigh and a smile on his face.

Harley still doesn’t leave.

(It’s definitely, one hundred percent, a huge, gigantic crush, and maybe... maybe he’s okay with that. Maybe liking Peter Parker isn’t all that bad.)

#parkner #my writing #mild descriptions of injuries #non graphic near death experience

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years ago

Text

My Way

Chapter Two

Warnings: mentions of violence, phobia, mentions of child neglect, mentions of substance abuse, kidnapping

Harry pulled off onto a dirt road, the sky was crimson and orange as the sun went down. It had been three days since the gas station, three days of constant driving. And while she had managed to grasp sleep here and there, Harry drove on. She didn't know how he stayed awake, but he had managed.

Clara felt her anxieties clawing at her, ready to drag her beneath the surface, she was filthy, her hair, oily and greasy, it smelled like sweat. Her teeth hadn't been brushed and she could feel the germs, literally smell the overall, overwhelming stench of her body. She was disgusting.

Harry parked in a wooded area, back away from the road. Clara looked at him wearily as he unbuckled and hopped out of the van. She watched him trudge around to her door and throw it open.

“Get out. Come on.” Clara fumbled with her seat belt, moving as quickly as she could, but not quick enough for him. He grabbed her hand and yanked her from the seat, she stumbled, but he caught her with ease, setting her steady on her feet.

“Y-you said you wouldn't hurt me.” Clara whimpered. She backed away, as he opened the back sliding door. He hopped up into the van, turning to look at her.

"No. We're gonna sleep. C’mere.” He knelt, extending his hands out. Clara peaked around him to see a dirty old mattress covered in rumpled blankets and sheets. A tingling sensation made it's way up her spine, as her anxiety wrapped it's ugly hands around her throat. She began to hyperventilate.

“Clara?” Harry asked, concern lacing his words. He jumped down and came to her. Unsure of what else to do, he took her hands in his. His nails were dirty. She screams internally, unused to touch by others. “Clara look at me. Breathe. What's wrong?” he placed a hand on her cheek, making her stomach lurch. She couldn't shake it off. “Look at me.” He said again, she tilted her head to look at his face. He was breathing in an exaggerated fashion, trying to help her. And as cheesy as she always thought that was, she found it endearing now.

They hadn't been this close before, and as she tried to slow down her breathing she studied him. Really studied him for the first time.

He didn't have his cap on and she saw he had thick brown,curly hair, it fell down over his eyebrows and curled below his ears. freckles on his face seemed to dance in the fading sunlight. Tattoos covering his neck in black ink, down his chest and over his arms. She wondered just how many he had. as her breathing steadied, she stared at him in awe. He was kinda…..beautiful.

“You ok?” he asked, stepping back, giving her her space again. She shook her head.

“I can't sleep on that.” She mumbled, blush rising to her cheeks.

“what?” he glanced back, “why not?”

“Germs. A-and…..”

“And?”

“I've never slept with a man before….” He raised an eyebrow, she didn't explain what she meant.

“Okay,” he said annoyed, dragging a hand over his face. “you're like, the worst hostage ever,” he chuckled.

“I'm still a hostage?”

“What else would you be?” She shrugged.

“I don't know…..just doesn't feel like a hostage situation anymore.” It hadn't since the first day. They spent hours at a time cooped up together in the car. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies either. It was a weird in between.

“Let's get something straight.” Harry stepped back up to her, he crowded her space, making her feel small. “You're not free. Not yet. My family says you can go I'll take you home. You try to run, and I will hurt you Clara,” his voice was low, his eyes serious, “and don't get me wrong. You're all right. You seem like a good kid. So don't give me a reason to hurt you. I don't want to.”

“I-Im sorry,” she whimpered. “I guess I got used to-”

“Don't get used to me. This situation is temporary. You'll be back in your cushy old life soon enough.” He turned, slamming the van door shut. “Get in.” He was in a bad mood.

“Where are we going?”

“The laundromat.”

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

The ride is quiet. Clara can feel the tension rolling off of Harry. She didn't know what exactly set him off, maybe her anxiety about germs? Whatever it was, she couldn't blame him. She knew she was a handful.

The parking lot is empty, save for Harry's van and one other car, a little further down the way. The fluorescent bright lights shine brightly from within the building. Harry reaches behind his seat, pulling two baseball caps out, and hands one to Clara.

“Put this on. Keep your head down and don't tell anyone who you are.

Understand?” She nodded. He tugged the cap over his head and opened the door. Clara followed suit, watching him yank open the rear door and start pulling out the blankets and sheets. He stopped, looking over his shoulder. “You gonna help?” he asked.

As much as she didn't want to make him mad, she couldn't do it, “no.” She said quietly. Harry just huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Such a fucking princess.” The words stung. There were a thousand other reasons she should be crying at this moment in time, but instead she's hurt and on the verge of tears cuz he thinks she's some spoiled brat. “Can you at least open the door for me?” She turns without a word to hold the door for him

It's quiet, except for the machines and a tv that's playing the news. Great. Clara thought. She went to the bathroom and grabbed some paper towels, taking them with her towards the table she had first seen, while Harry loads the blankets and sheets. She wiped down the table meticulously, making sure to catch, what looked like a soda stain, that had been left there.

Harry fell into the chair across from her. She could tell he was completely exhausted, and this made her feel bad. Why couldn't she be normal? That was all she wanted. Nothing else. Just to be normal, and not have people look at her like she was a freak.

“Mysophobia.” Clara said suddenly. Harry grunted, his eyes were closed, head in hand, but he acknowledged her.

“What's that?” he asked.

“Fear of germs basically….When I was a kid my dad died, and my mom started abusing pain medication as a way to cope. Instead of taking care of me she laid on the couch a lot or in bed, high as a kite. The house was always dirty, flies and gnats were everywhere and mice poop was all over the place too. It was really dirty and disgusting.” She takes a quick glance to see Harry looking at her with tired eyes. “The school reported my mom to children services, I got taken away while she went to rehab. I stayed with my best friend and his family for a little while. Until my mom got better….That’s when she met Marcus, he's a great guy, and he really helped her. By that time I had already started going to therapy for my anxieties and he was very supportive. He’s a good guy. I kept everything under control until my senior year of high school….” She trailed off, lost in thought, no longer caring if he was paying attention. She just needed to tell someone. Someone other than her psychobabble shrink. “I’d never been in a relationship, so when I met Leah I really fell for her. Hard….I had always considered myself straight, until I met her, she changed everything for me, and we loved each other a lot. She helped me tell my mom I was Bi. She didn't care that I was a clean freak. She saw me for me and she loved every bit of me.” Clara smiled, thinking of her former girlfriend fondly. Leah had been so beautiful, and strong and brave, everything she wasn't. “She brought something out of me, I didn't even know was there, she helped me become outgoing and confident. I felt like I could conquer the world, with her by my side….but then...Alex Collins came to our school.” She closed her eyes and shuddered, even his name still gave her chills. “He latched onto me right away, and had tried very hard to get me to break up with Leah to be with him. He started stalking me and wouldn't leave either of us alone...he didn't stop, it continued all the way up through senior year,” Clara felt a lump in her throat, it was growing, and she had to blink back her tears, “he killed her. He killed Leah. Shot her right in front of everybody.” She couldn't keep the tears from falling now. “he just walked up as we were entering the school, put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger….I….I was standing right next to her, her blood was all over everywhere. And he looked me in the eyes and said ‘you did this. This is your fault.’....he still hasn't been caught. He's been on the run for two years. And I….i've been even more messed up, ever since….” Clara finished quickly, not sure if he was even listening anymore. Just to be able to talk made her feel a new sense of relief.

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry's voice isn't annoyed or angry. There is sympathy layered beneath his words, so Clara looked up. Harry's face was blank, he stared at his hands in his lap.

“I just didn't want you to really believe I'm a spoiled Princess….Im the furthest thing from it.”

“My opinion shouldn't matter to you.”

“But you're the only one in a hundred mile radius I know. So it does.”

“Jesus Clara, you don't know me.” She flinched at the way he snapped. I am your captor,” he whispered the word. “This isn't a vacation. I'm not your friend and I don't need to hear your life story.”

“B-but I thought-”

“Whatever you thought is wrong. Look,” he leaned forward. “I'll do what I can to to keep my family from killing you, but whatever they decide I have to do. And as fucked up as your life has been you couldn't handle mine for a minute, You don't have the stomach for it. This isn't destiny or fate it's a temporary crossing of paths. So don't trust me. Don't get used to me. Just don't. Just keep your head down and mouth shut.” Clara was on the verge of tears again.

“But the sheets-”

“If washing some fucking sheets, keeps you compliant I'll do it. Nothing more.” He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “Don't mistake me for a good guy. I'm not.” Clara sniffed, unable to stop the tears. Harry sighed, annoyance subsiding, he ran his hand through his hair. “I'm going to the bathroom. Don't move.”

Clara sat in stunned silence for a moment, truly processing the last three days for the first time. Harry was only being nice to keep her docile. Keep her from trying to run or find help. He only conversed with her in the van when she initiated conversation, meaning he really didn't care, probably didn't even like her as a person. She must be one fucked up girl if even an admitted serial killer didn't like her.

She looked towards the bathroom, if she was that much of an inconvenience to him she would just leave then. She flung the hat off her head and walked to the door without a second thought about it.

She had no idea where she was. It was dark out now, the sun long gone and a cool wind was blowing, leaving goose bumps on her arms. She shivered slightly, taking a deep breath and trying not to panic.

“Okay,” she muttered, “Look for help. A police man, mom with kids, anybody.” She scanned the street to see it mostly empty, most people were inside the shops and restaurants, escaping the first chills of autumn. Clara decided to walk towards a Subway down the road, passing by the same alley of the laundromat and the building beside it.

“Hello pretty.” before she could even get halfway down the sidewalk, arms burst forward from the dark alley, one dirty, smelly hand clamped over her mouth, the other wrapped around her waist, dragging her further back into the darkness. “You're mine,” a ragged voice chuckled against her ear. Clara gagged as alcohol and cigarette breath wafted into her face. Panic seized her as she was drug further into the darkness of the alley.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #imagine harry styles #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1

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hellishmess · 5 years ago

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17: Irritating Love

August 25,2018

I ducked, dodging an arrow by the skin of my teeth.

Rey and Hardy were crouched down behind me. The stack of crates were the only thing keeping us from becoming pin dolls.

Twisting my hands, I sent out my magic, reining it in to 15 feet. Rey shivered as the death spell passed through her, leaving her unscathed.

To our right, a strangled cry sounded out in alarm. It ended with a bodily thump.

"Come on," I grit out, pissed at the lack of weapons I had.

We make it two feet before gun shots fire from behind me. I whirl to see Rey with a pistol in hand. The man she shot fell to his knees.

I kept going, weaving our way out of the maze of shipping crates.

"Aspen!" Hardy yelled out a warning, but I was already on it. A huge lift barreled for us, the forked side first.

I grabbed at my magic, wrapping it around the heavy machinery. The muscles in my arms tensed as I flung it away from us. It hit a stack of shipping containers, knocking the top one off. My ears rung from the screeching of metal attacking metal.

We kept running, darting from path to path. They surrounded us again. Rey led us to a bunker corner of two crates. We crouched down.

How many men were there?

Rey squeezed Hardy's hand in hers, gripping her pistol in her right hand. He buried his face in her neck, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll die for you," he muttered.

She grabbed his face, making eye contact before sincere lip contact. "I'll die for you first."

"No one here is fucking dying!" I snap.

Both of them look at me, shocked by the sharpness of my voice. I inch towards the edge of the crate. A red burning line was drawn blocking our exit. It was bad news. I knew the spell. It'd burn us from the inside out if we ran through.

I briefly considered taking the time to break the spell but cast it out. It could take too long. The goons could be on us in seconds.

I look up. God if you're real...

Holy shit. The lightbulb shines over my head as my brain cells work to form a functional idea.

"Rey how many bullets do you have left?" I ask.

She checks. "5 counting the one in the barrel."

"Okay. That's not bad. Here's what we're going to do. I'm gonna cast a magical protection spell over us and Hardy you're gonna use your shields to help prevent us from being shot down."

Hardy nods but his eyebrow cocks at my use of words. "Shot down?"

A grin forms and I point up. "Yep. We're like mice in here. We don't know the territory like they do and I'm getting the faint impression that they're leading us to a trap. So we're going to run on the top of the crates. Where we can see the end and get the hell out of here."

They share a glance before standing up. "What if we can't make a jump?" Rey worries, watching Hardy climb to the top.

"I have us on that front," I say wiggling my fingers. "Don't worry. Just make sure you aim to kill and that your boyfriend can keep his shields up."

She nods, turning to climb after him. I can see the ripple through the air as Hardy manifests his shields.

I didn't wait for Rey to reach the top to climb. Instead, I climbed beside her.

My spell of protection was subtle, but I wrapped it around us in two layers.

Yells from below got us moving. Goons ran for us. Several had hellhounds on leashes. Huge, ugly dogs with hellfire in their eyes. Their jaws snapped as they saw their marks. With barks so loud it invoked fear in the dead, the air that came out of their lungs was even toxic.

I paused. My hands in claws as I twisted and snapped their necks one by one.

Hardy led us towards the edge of the maze. We were sprinting along the tops of the crates, hopping between the cracks.

"Aspen!" He warned again. I looked forward and saw that he was leading us towards another row. The jump was huge.

"I got us. Go!"

Hardy kept our pace even, not looking back as he took a leap of faith. Soon we were all rushing forward on our own momentum. With a small effort, I raised us up and carried us over the rest of the 4 feet.

Hardy paused, a grin broken on his lips. "That was cool!"

Rey clamped a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward. "Congratulate later!"

She screamed. A big burly man had managed to climb up with us. A gun raised in his hands. There was no hesitation when he fired three shots.

Hardy gripped his palms. With his hands in tight fists, his shields stopped the bullets where they were.

People were starting to file down below us with guns, whips, and knifes in hand. One dude even had a bat and chain.

"Go go go!" I yelled.

Hardy barreled ahead, lowering his center of mass as he used his shields as a battering ram. The burly man didn't stand a chance. We tossed him over.

We crossed over to another row of crates, this time able to make the jump without my assistance.

I felt foreign magic try to take hold of us. It touched my barrier, but dispelled soon after touching it.

"Holy shit we're almost there." Hardy yelled.

He turned and hopped onto the last length of shipping crates.

"Shit," he swore, hesitating.

I saw why. There was a group of 5 standing down the line. Even more were on the ground below us. All of them blocked the exit.

Hardy winced, his eyes closing from concentration as bullets rained at us. Three of the five had guns and all of them were shooting at us.

Rey didn't hesitate. She fired three shots over Hardy's shoulder. All of them hit home in the dudes with guns. They fell to the ground, dying. One pressing the trigger and shooting at his comrades on the floor before stilling.

A twitch of my fingers had their guns flying across the lot. Only one came towards us.

Rey caught it. "Cool an uzi."

She laid it down on the ones at our feet. In my peripheral, I saw her hit a good many as they broke formation and scrambled away.

I ran towards the remaining two. One with a broad sword and the other had a chain with a heavy ball at the end.

The man with the chain went for me first. I jumped, dodging the blow to take out my legs. I got up and personal. Jabbing his eyes, before punching his throat. He choked, coughing as he swung blindly.

I felt the air split as the sword came for me from behind. He hoped to cut through my spine with a swing that heavy.

Dropping to the floor, I slide between the chain dude's legs, giving him a hard blow to his junk.

He yelped, high pitched and whiny.

I rolled back to my feet in a crouch. The sword had dug deep in the body of his partner. The man was a goner. Blood sprayed everywhere. His screams raised the hair on my arms.

The dude with the sword looked panicked. He grabbed the dude and shoved him off the crates. Anger flushed his face. "You."

I stood, shrugging my shoulders. "Me."

He ran for me sword first, a battle yell tore from his throat.

Dodging was always easy, but now that this man was letting his emotions carry his attacks it was especially easy.

I brandished a thin blade from my belt, making tiny cuts wherever I could when I moved away from the path of his sword.

He stopped, huffing as he realized his mistake. He was as bloody as his fallen friend. His skin clammy and pale.

I cut every major vein and artery on his arms, nicking his artery on his big throat too.

"Sorry." I apologized, before drop kicking him to the ground. He didn't get up.

I was alone up here.

Hardy and Rey were back to back, fighting the ones left that were stupid enough to still fight.

A whip wrapped around Rey causing her to tumble forwards. A pirate pulled her towards his with a dirty smile. I dropped down to help her, but Hardy got to her before me. His shields forgotten in desperation to help her.

He grabbed her, tugging back.

I grabbed a discarded gun and shot the pirate.

Rey unwrapped the whip.

We all made eye contact, all of us on the same page. We got up and ran like hell.

No one followed us as we hit the streets. The evening shadows cloaked us as we headed for the hidden car.

Hardy got there first, jumping into the drivers seat as Rey grabbed shotgun and I dove into the back.

Our doors weren't even shut before he had us spinning away from the docs.

Adrenaline and potholes made the ride rough, but thankfully we made it back to the highway.

It was silent as we all caught our breath.

"I think that asshole broke my wrist." Rey said, savoring her right hand.

"Shit." Hardy said, "Let me see."

"No dumbass you drive." I said, popping up from the back. I turned to Rey. "Let me see."

I turned on the light and saw the discoloration of her wrist. It was a swollen mess, but there was no bone sticking out and no visible protrusions.

"Jesus." I said. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was broken."

"Is it?" Hardy asked. "Can you even tell?"

"No really." I answered before asking Rey, "Can you move it?"

She tries but only gains tears. "No," she breaths out in shakes.

"Okay. Okay. Give me your hand," I said.

Hardy picked up speed as he drove us to base, taking a sharp exit that flung me and Rey to the side. "What are you doing?”

A whimper leaves her lips when she straightens up.

“I’m going to heal her injury,” I snap. “Christ what do you think I’m going to do?”

“Sorry,” he scoffed, focusing back on driving.

I pull energy from the world, focusing on the signals her body gives off along with the connections and disconnections in her wrist.

The magic soaks into her skin, restoring the cells that were broken. It only took a second.

“Holy shit,” Rey gasps. “It’s fixed.” She wiggles her wrist. “Thank you.”

I sigh, resting back. “Welcome.”

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mrsrogerswrites · 4 years ago

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@captainstevenrogerswrites

She loved what time they got together, she loved seeing him. She loved being in his arms and the way they made each other feel. She would never regret either how she couldn't keep her hands off him and she knew that wasn't ever going to change, free or not. But leaving him was becoming harder and harder each time. "Tell him I said hi." She smiled at him, of course she didn't expect him to even mention her but she could tell how much of a loving father he was by not saying he was going to see him in the hospital. He made it sound like he was going around to visit him at home.

Nuzzling his beard as they both now stood in his office she clung onto him. "I love you, one more night." She had to stay positive, until she actually heard the words from the judge himself she couldn't allow herself to feel fully happy. Time was always against them now. Pulling him in she kissed him, her hands stroking his hair until they both heard movement outside. "This is the worst part." She sighed and pulled away from his embrace while grabbing her coat and fixing her hair so it no longer looked like she had just been fucked.

Going through the motions again she returned to her cell, a card was left on her bed as she opened it up and read the small messages from each of her team mates. Steve wished her luck and told her he was thinking about her, Tony just scribbling, you got this kiddo. She smiled as she kept reading their words just as one of the other guards came in with food and her set of clothes for the morning. She noticed the slight differences, people weren't as cold to her now almost as If they knew somehow she was going to be freed.

Eating dinner she thought about him going to visit Jacob, her lips curving to s smile, he never gave up on her just like he would never give up on his son either. Lost in her thoughts the knock at the door interrupted her as it opened and she looked up, she dropped her fork and sat back while rolling her eyes as Laurie of all people then walked in. What was this? Had she turned up to piss her off in the hopes she would attack her and end up jailed anyways? "What do you want?" Looking up at her she glared now as Laurie looked around the cell and just stood there. The place was so basic, her clothes hung behind the door, her small nightstand had the card and the picture of Andy resting up against the lamp. Natasha didn't even move to hide it, she didn't care anymore if she saw it or not.

"Whats going on with you and my husband?" Taking a drink from her water she waited to answer, did she confess all and tell her she loved him and they were planning a new life together? She wanted to, she really wanted to put her in her place and tell her how every chance they got they made love, how he had to cover her mouth so they wouldn't get caught and how he had even fucked her two feet from where she now stood.

"Hes my lawyer and he's a good man and tomorrow he's going to do all he can to get me out of here for good." She bit her lip, having to stop herself from blurting out how she knew what she'd did and how she knew they were getting divorced but she wasn't about to fuck things up for herself, not when she was so close now. "I don't believe you." Hearing her she rolled her eyes and pushed up from the table. "Its none of your business what gets said between us. He's representing me and if you don't mind I have court tomorrow so.... leave." Her tone changed as Natasha then glared at her while motioning towards the door. There Andy was spending time with his son and his own mother was here instead of being at his bedside too.

"Drive carefully, wouldn't want you getting into an accident." Smirking at her she knew Laurie just wanted to slap her, as she turned to leave she then glanced over towards the table before storming out of the cell and the door closed over. Jesus that was fun. Getting ready for bed she fell asleep pretty quickly and was woken up with breakfast and showering she stepped into her clothes and took in a deep breath, could he actually portray her as this loving caring woman now or was her fate already sealed? Arriving at court the guard led her to the room and stood outside. She opened the door to see him sitting there going over paperwork as she stepped inside and closed the door over, the first thing she noticed where the cameras. "Mr Barber." As hard as it was she couldn't rush him and hug him as she took a seat. Looking at him she smiled, did she mention the visit or keep it to herself? "How's Jacob?" The first words from her mouth she pulled her chair closer to the table.

Morals of a case- Part ||

Andy Barber x Natasha Romanoff

@captainstevenrogerswrites

She was still kneeling on him as he pushed up and stared at before confessing his feelings for her too. Inside she was feeling the torrent of emotions hitting her all at once. She smiled at him, her eyes piercing his as he then spoke of how she may never have to go back to jail. She knew of course that she would have to that night unless some other miracle presented itself first, but what was one more night if it meant they had a life together? And it also meant he could finally leave that bitch of a wife of his and they could face people together as a proper couple.

"I want to bring you coffee while you're working hard, even if it's just to steal a kiss from those amazing lips, I want us to have a home you'll be proud of and will watch the clock, counting the hours until we can be together again. I want it all with you." She had to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall, just a few hours before she was facing life in prison and wondering if she would see him again and now here she was, half naked in his lap and making love to him.

He slid off the desk, she held onto his broad smooth shoulders and kissed gently over his skin until she found herself on his chair and now looking down at him. "My sexy, hot, lawyer boyfriend." Smirking she held his face as he started to rock his hips and thrust his cock back in and out of her, raising her legs she wrapped her thighs around him as she started to moan with him..

"Make love to me Andy." Her voice was so smooth and gentle but there was still a need laced into it, the need for him that she knew she would never grow tired of. Using her legs she pushed his pants down over his hips, her fingertips trailed down his spine as she grabbed his ass with both hands. She wasn't even surprised that his ass felt so perfect in her grip, they both fitted each other perfectly.

The chair started to shake under him with every hot thrust, watching him as he kissed and sucked over her breasts she sucked on his ear and groaned. "I love you, this is forever." She pushed his ass into her making him go deeper as they both rocked together, sucking on his neck she still knew they had to be quiet for now.. "God I cant wait until the day you can come home to me and make me scream all night.

His thrusts were getting to her, bucking her hips back the chair moved back and forth with them, she had never known a man who could make her whole body come alive just at his touch. "Fill me up baby, make me yours for life." She already was his, she had been from the moment she stepped into his office, but oh how she felt so lucky now. Not only was he hot and yet so caring but he was also so skilful the way he fucked her.

"Cum in me, but save some." Pulling back she looked down now licking her lips, he had saved her life and she was now going to spend the rest of hers showing him just how much she did love him. Dragging her nails up his back she grabbed his hair pulling him onto her lips as she kissed him roughly. She was going to cum again and he was the only one who could make her while also keeping her quiet too.

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slayingallthesewomenwithmypeen · 5 years ago

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[Title in the Works] - 01

;hey guys! this is for a story I'm writing, and it's something I've had in mind for almost a year now, so I've decided to share the first chapter! i hope you enjoy. if you have any title suggestions please don't hesitate to share.

thank you all!

-Daisy💕

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

This chapter includes violent themes and driving while intoxicated.

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April 12th, 1987

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If you were to ask where people usually are on a Sunday night in Boston, they'd almost all unanimously reply with watching the Bruins.

If not then they likely had something better to do.

But based on the rumbling and roaring of the crowd in the small pub downtown Boston, that didn't seem to be the case.

Cheering ran throughout the large room as a hockey game played on four different T.Vs, with men and women gathering around them to cheer for their boys in yellow and boo at Montreal aggressively.

Granted about half the crowd was completely wasted.

Waitresses walked around the establishment with tray-fulls of cheap beer to hand out to the customers as they continued to yell at the game, some getting mad as the people on the screen didn't do what they had yelled at them for the past half hour to do.

Eyeing one of the waitresses from the bar was Kate, the one with the more blonde in her hair, and her skin bearing a fairer complexion compared to her friend.

A cat-like look danced in her eyes as she scanned the crowd, then at the Bruins who weren't doing so hot.

She chuckled to herself.

Next to her, paying no mind to the waitresses (or let alone the game) like her friend was Phoebe.

She instead idly stirred her mixed drink with the tiny black straw that came with it.

Phoebe had noticeably tanner, freckled skin, sporting ginger hair and grey eyes.

Sitting next to Kate, the two did not at all seem like friends if one were to guess.

Kate twirled around on her barstool and faced her friend, smiling, "I knew the Bruins were gonna lose. Now that fat guy in the Hawaiian shirt over there owes me $50."

Phoebe didn't seem to have any reaction towards her friend's statement, continuing to stir the drink and staring blankly at it.

Her friend raised a brow, clearly understanding how out of character her ginger pal was and reached over to pluck the straw from her hand.

"I think the Alabama Slammer's mixed enough dude." Kate commented.

Phoebe looked up at her, seeming to snap out of the trance, "Sorry..." she apologized quickly, "I guess I'm just not feeling it tonight."

Kate leaned on her hand as she looked at her friend, "Feels weird being back here, huh?"

The ginger nodded, "Little bit." she said silently as she sipped her drink, "At least I haven't bumped into them yet."

"What, your parents?" Kate asked, scrunching her brows as she glanced around the bar, "Your blue-collared folks in this shithole?"

She shrugged, "You never know."

"Yeah, but from what you've told me about them they wouldn't even piss in the toilets in a place like this." Kate replied, a swig of her beer following her words, "So I wouldn't worry."

"I wouldn't really say I'm worried," Phoebe replied, "It's just weird."

The blonde sighed, "Just relax man. S'not like they're forming some kind of witch hunt for you still even after all this time."

Phoebe stayed silent for a moment, letting the cries of the hockey fans drown out her unspoken reply.

Kate rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder, "C'mon, I'm gonna get my 50 first from the Pillsbury dough-boy over there and then we can bounce. Just go wait in the car."

Kate tossed the keys at Phoebe, who caught them with her two hands and nodded in reply.

She got up and walked out of the bar, the parking lot surprisingly enough being barren despite the large crowd of people inside.

Phoebe got to their 1978 Ford Mustang and unlocked the car.

She got into the front seat, slamming the door next to her shut, and threw the keys onto the dashboard.

Though she tried, she just couldn't shake the awkward feeling of being home back so easily as Kate had tried to.

Her parents may not enjoy places like these as she may, but that doesn't mean the people here don't talk to one another.

Especially since Phoebe's father was a pastor of one of the largest churches in the city.

The thought of that by itself made her head cloud from the embarrassment.

Nothing would make a juicy story for every ear in this drunken city like hearing the pastor's daughter running around town making a fool of herself.

'Great.' she muttered in her head, 'As if me ditching hadn't made things worse before.'

Interrupting her silent scolding was laughter, and footsteps that sounded like running towards the car.

Phoebe turned around and looked out of the back window of the car to see Kate with a handful of cash and a wild grin plastered onto her face as the man in the Hawaiian shirt chased after her along with a buddy of his.

The second man, based on what she could get a glimpse of in the dark, had such a shiny bald head she wouldn't have been surprise if he had a marble where a skull would've been.

The fat man's mouth was covered in blood, his expression was one of pure anger.

His pace- while still fast- wasn't fast enough for Kate as she made it to the car in time, and quickly got into the driver's seat.

She threw the cash onto the dash, grabbing the keys and starting the car, her laughter subsiding as she caught her breath.

Phoebe hadn't had the time to even ask what had happened yet as Kate whipped out of the parking lot with a sharp turn and hit the gas.

The mens yelling and cursing in the background faded when they started going farther down the road.

Phoebe glanced at Kate, who looked at her as if she had just experienced a glorious high.

"Dickhead over there said he knew your dad," she explained, a pit in Phoebe's stomach already forming from the guilt, "He said he'd tell him he saw our plate unless I gave him a little something. Told him no, he tried to grab me, and so I broke his tooth and took whatever was in his wallet."

Kate had described the whole ordeal in a tone where she acts as this happens to her on a daily.

Which frankly, Kate getting into fights wasn't something out of the ordinary for the two of them to go through.

Phoebe chuckled nervously, her anxiety worsening, "Shit, he saw our plates?"

"Don't worry," Kate assured nonchalantly with a giggle, "We can always switch em."

Phoebe could feel her organs sinking into a pit, "How did he even recognize me?"

"Hell if I know."

The ginger turned to Kate, looking at her overall demeanor as her friend swerved a little on the road.

"Kate..." Phoebe reached over and put her hand on the wheel to guide the car in a safer way, "Dude you're drunk off your ass. Let me drive."

Kate blew a raspberry, "I'm not drunk'" she objected, smacking Phoebe's hand away, "I can drive just fine, don't be such a worry-wart."

Phoebe was just about to object when her eyes darted over towards the road for a second and saw a person crossing the street.

"Kate- KATE-" she cried as the car drew closer to the person, "Pump the breaks someone is crossing!"

Kate squinted at the road, her head nodding a little shakily, "I don't see anyone-"

"STOP THE CAR KATE STOP THE CAR-"

Phoebe pushed herself over towards the drivers' side and slammed her foot onto the break.

The tires squealed on the road, twisting and turning as Kate drunkenly tried to hold the wheel still.

Which was about as beneficial as a duck doing taxes.

Phoebe yelped as she felt the car stop, a loud thud from the front following after.

Her eyes were shut closed, shaking as she still stood with her feet on the brake pedal.

"Holy shit." Kate murmured, her feet sliding off of the gas and staring ahead from the window.

Phoebe slowly opened her eyes, her breathing quickened as she quickly got out of the car from the shotgun's side and made her way towards the front.

Her eyes widened in horror, her hands reached up to clamp over her mouth as she rushed over to the body.

A young man laid before the car, his dark brown hair held down with a bit of blood and sweat.

He wore a grey shirt and a blue jacket, both of which were covered in some leaves and mud.

She knelt down towards him, freezing for a second as she wasn't sure on what to do, but then immediately checked his neck for a pulse.

"Is he breathing?"

Kate called as she got out of the car, looking over at Phoebe and the body.

"Oh my god."

"What?"

"He's still alive!"

"What?" Kate asked, surprised by him not kicking the bucket due to getting hit by a car, "No way...props to him."

"We gotta take him to the hospital," Phoebe said hurriedly, "He needs an ambulance- call 911!"

"Yeah, you try explaining to the doctors that you hit some homeless guy with your car."

Phoebe glared at her, "It's not my car! It's yours! You drove!"

"I could've been drunk and you would've had to drive me home. Don't lie and say you can't smell the whiskey on me."

Phoebe was absolutely appalled.

"Why can't we just tell the truth for once?!" she demanded, their current situation making her more stressed than ever, "Damn it, Kate, he could be dying!"

"Okay, one," Kate responded, definitely much calmer than Phoebe, "You think that me driving drunk is gonna make this situation better for the cops? You really want your parents to find out after all this time ignoring them, you got arrested for attempted murder?"

Phoebe didn't answer, she didn't even look at Kate, she just continued to have her hand on his pulse as reassurance that he's okay.

"...Two," she continued, "He'll be fine. Let's just go back to our motel. We'll put him on ice, I'll call a guy, we let him rest so we can avoid this whole mess."

"And what if he doesn't get better?" Phoebe shot a glare at her friend, questioning her morals.

Kate shrugged, "I got a shovel in the back."

Her eyes grew big, "Jesus Christ, Kate!"

"He'll get better!" she said a little louder, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Fuck sake, just help me get him into the backseat."

#ocs #story #my story #oc #original characters #original character #tw: alcohol #tw: alchohol mention #tw: attempted murder

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