In His Dorm, In His Room (3)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Summary: The inner-workings of your relationship with a dance partner, friend, and crush, Jeon Jungkook.

{credit to original photo} [Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5]

The wind whipped violently, a cool breeze akin to spring rather than winter. You sighed as you watched the leaves fly by. “This wind is a great representation for how I feel inside.”

Yoongi shifted next to you, probably trying to make sure he didn’t fall off the ledge as he lied to rest. “Pushy and cold?” he guessed.

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Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: teasing, flufffff. 

A/N: I thought it would be appropriate to write this one today, since I’m feeling like crap today, Geez, the human body is so fragile. Anywho’s, this is another Anon Request. Thank you loves!

Anon Request—“Hi! I recently stumbled across your writing, and MY GOD is it awesome. I was wondering if you could do a fix with Cas x reader ,where the reader is sick, and the Winchester bros are teasing their little sister figure for being dramatic about it, and Cas gets kinda protective, but it’s funny and cute and fluffy? Sorry if this is really specific. Love ya! <3”

(Not my GIF)

Womp. Womp. Womp.

Your head pounded as you listened to Sam and Dean chatter across the map room table. You closed your eyes as you tried to drown out the throbbing pain their obnoxious voices caused.

“So, Y/N, did you find anything yet?” Dean’s voice warped in your ears as he leaned towards you. “Helloooo? Earth to Y/N?”

“Y/N, you look like Hell,” Sam commented, making a face as he studied your pale form.

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Keeping You Safe

Sam Winchester x Reader

2000 Words

Story Summary:  reader is Sam’s girlfriend, and he has to worry between keeping her safe while curing his brother.

Relaxing in the library, a cup of hot chocolate in front of you, you checked your phone for the fifth time that evening. Sam, your boyfriend, had yet to contact you, and you were becoming worried. He was out searching for his brother, who had been dead but now was maybe being possessed by a Demon. It was all a lot to take in, especially since you had only been in this life for a year. You had gotten used to vampires, ghosts, even Crowley. But the fact that Sam’s brother had died, and was now walking about out there, supposedly hitting up all the bars had you a little freaked out. And that’s why Sam had suggested you stay home. Of course he wanted to keep you safe so he went out on his own while you promised to keep up with research.

Raising your cup to your lips, you jumped sky high when the door slammed open, and footsteps sounded loudly in the bunker. “Y/N, go to your room!” Sam yelled as you heard the sounds of struggling.

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anonymous asked:

“That is a hideous shirt you should totally just take it off” au Nessian please

A/N: Four months later, but I did it!  Woo.  I hope you like.  Also drink responsibly friends :)

look @rhysndtrash I made nessian!


Cassian passes a damp rag over the now clean bar top once more before throwing it over his shoulder in that stereotypical fashion of bartenders everywhere.  His nimble fingers quickly fill a crystal clear glass with icy water which he then pushes in front of his last remaining patron, expression brooking no arguments as he growls, “Drink it.”

Sadly, his no nonsense glare doesn’t do much, considering her forehead is essentially adhered to the cherry wood bar as it had been since he’d told his fellow bartenders she was cut off.  Aside from established policy about not allowing customers to drink themselves blind, he had a particular responsibility for this woman - mainly that Feyre would have his head (or worse) if he let her sister get too out of it.

As it is, he figures her current blood alcohol level was probably butting up against that line, but he was always one for pushing limits, so today Nesta got to enjoy that - or suffer it depending on when he asks her.  Cassian clears out the tip jar while simultaneously ripping the paper lei foisted on him every third Friday for ‘theme night’ (which allegedly expanded their customer base) and mindlessly goes through the motions of closing up.

Actually, no matter when he asks her she’ll probably berate him using a colorful array of expletives - the woman could swear like a sailor.  They’d met through Rhysand and Feyre nearly a year ago at a party meant to bring their two groups together once things were serious enough between the happy couple, and it was safe to say they’d immediately become ‘frenemies’ as they say, except maybe without the friend (at least on her part).  Suffice it to say Cassian could flirt with a brick wall and Nesta was light-years less receptive than said wall.

Which was why he was surprised when she’d shown up at the bar everyone knew he worked regularly, and proceeded to get soused.  From the conversation he’d overheard her having with the bouncer (and then with herself when Varian had subtly inched back toward his place in the shadows) she’d had an unpleasant encounter with her father, which lead to her finishing off her own personal alcohol stash and then taking an Uber here.  Where she’d been perched on the brushed copper stool like a lump for the last hour and a half of his shift.

His nightly rituals complete, Cassian offers Varian a salute and leans on the seat nearest to Nesta.  “You’ve got to drink that water.  You’ll already hate yourself in the morning - and me but that’s not new.”

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÷ series #7 Calum - Happier

“He said something to make you laugh, I saw that both of yours smiles were twice as big as ours” 

It stung, seeing you that happy with someone else. But he’d brought this on himself, that one, stupid, drunk night he’d messed up the best thing in his life, his relationship with you. He’d told you right away, terrified he’d lose you, but he couldn’t hide something that big from you. And his worst fear had become a reality, you’d left. 

It hadn’t been long since you broke up, and he hadn’t started seeing new people yet, but it seemed you had. And you seemed happy, a lot happier than you’d been with him. His eyes stayed glued to you from the minute he saw you walking on the other side of the road, hand in hand with a guy, and his heart stopped for a second when you burst out laughing at something he said, your nose scrunching up slightly, which Calum had always found adorable.

He hadn’t been happy since you left, and seeing you happy and laughing with a new guy should make him happy, you deserved someone that could make you laugh, but he couldn’t help the feeling that came creeping, jealousy. It should’ve been him. 

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Fighting it is Useless pt. 2

Due to popular demand, here is part 2 of “Fighting it is Useless”! Thank you all so much for the support for a fic I was very nervous about. I’ll be doing all the tagging at the bottom! 

Part 1

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, a teeny bit of fluff if you squint. 

Pairings: Arthur Ketch x fem!Winchester reader, Dean Winchester

Originally posted by faith-in-dean

Ketch woke up with a pounding headache. His throat was scratchy and dry and he felt the need to throw up. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d drank so much. It had to have been years ago. Groaning, Ketch opened his eyes. It only took him a fraction of a second to realize that he was not in his room. Or even in the British Men of Letters American base.

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anonymous asked:

prompt: winteriron with sleepy, overworked, maybe slightly sick!Tony and super protective mother hen!Bucky. All the fluff.

A/N: Hahahaha “slightly” sick. I projected onto Tony and basically made him feel like I did when I had strep a couple months ago. Sorry dude. At least Bucky is there to help you.

Tony woke up one morning and immediately noticed something was off.

He had slept until 11 o’clock.

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“Intervention” - Part 2

“Intervention” - Requested Oneshot 

My Masterlist - Here

Part 1 - Here

Father!Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 1,150

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Self Harm, Anxiety, Self Hatred, Intense Drinking, Mental Issues, Blood. If I missed any, please let me know.


Author’s Note: This is one of my most heaviest stories. I really hope you all get something from this. I hope this helps anyone who needs it in one way or another.

Also, I apologize to everyone who has requested prompts to me. Things have been more difficult than I thought recently and caused me to have a delay in all of my writing.

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces (All Works, Specific Fandoms, or Specific Multi-Parts), please let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

I hope you all are okay. If you ever need a friendly conversation or need someone, please talk to me. If you can’t confide in me, please reach out to someone. There are people to help you through any situation. You are not alone. You are loved.


- DreaSaurusREX

You’re in the familiar lab with Tony and Bruce. Bruce was still in his pajamas but ready to help. Your dad put you down on the medical bed they kept around for times like these. Your breathing has gotten closer to normal. You still felt sort of numb after all of the injuries you caused to yourself tonight, but now you were also very tired. It was difficult for you to sit up straight.

You tried your hardest to avoid your father’s face. You knew you hurt him. His little girl was a messed up basket case that sliced herself up and stole liquor in order to slow her self deprecating thoughts when they took over at night. So you just closed your eyes and tried to ignore everything, which didn’t help your sleepiness.

Bruce quickly assessed the cuts and started working on the two big ones that were under the washcloth. You tried your best to ignore the pain of the process of stitches. This was made a bit easier when you had conversation to focus on as Bruce was finishing up the last of the stitches.

Tony sat in a chair next to you and grabbed your hand as he spoke.

“Honey, you know this isn’t something I can just brush off and ignore. What I walked in on was not okay. You’re not okay. And I’m scared about you.” 

You knew what people thought about self harm and drinking, but you saw it as a way to bring yourself back to reality and punish yourself for all the stuff you do wrong.

“I’m fine. I don’t have a problem or anything. I do it cause it makes sense to me. Don’t worry. I got it. You got better things to worry about.” You were still a bit tipsy, but not as swimmy as you were before your dad found you in your bathroom. But you still talked as if you weren’t really all there mentally. 

Tony sighed and just sat there confused, running a hand up his face and through his hair. Bruce finished off the stitches and cleaned the rest of the smaller cuts. He had you lay back a bit for comfort.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet. You can do that when you get back to your comfortable bed instead of this lumpy cot.” He then looked over at Tony. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The two men walked into the hallway, out of earshot of you. Bruce took a sort of deep breath before speaking.

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anonymous asked:

ok so what about taegi in las vegas getting drunk and ending up marriedTHINK ABOUT IT

ooH trust me i’m thinking about it sjhcnxns ok let’s go this was so fun to write

if there’s one thing anyone close to yoongi and taehyung knew about them is that they couldn’t hold their liquor. they had just gotten back from the billboard awards and all of them was in complete awe and excitement. so they hurriedly changed into more comfortable clothing at their hotel and ended up in a club down the street. everyone was absolutely buzzed and dancing their asses off on the dance floor.

everything was going great and fun until taehyung decided to grind his ass into yoongi’s crotch and innocently turn around to watch his reaction. yoongi and taehyung have had their fair share of “helping each other out”. and by “helping each other out” this is exactly what you think it is, yoongi would hear taehyung in the shower jacking off and maybe the door would be accidentally unlocked and the two would fuck like their life depended on it. or the dozens of times yoongi has been woken up by a head underneath of his comforter which belonged to taehyung who insisted yoongi needed to start off the day with mind blowing head. also seokjin wasn’t very happy on those days and was quite traumatized.

yoongi’s hands immediately gripped at taehyung’s waist and turned him around.
“you wanna be naughty in the fucking club do you?” he purred into the other’s ear.
taehyung practically moaned at that, he loved yoongi’s dirty talk.

hoseok was ordering rounds after rounds of shots and it had come to the point that the two was completely plastered and couldn’t function with complete sentences anymore.

after what was probably an hour of completely grinding, taehyung was tired and needed to sit down for a few minutes.
“yoongi-hyung, sit down?” taehyung slurred while pointing to an empty seat.
yoongi nodded but it really looked like he was dancing with his head and dragged taehyung to the chair allowing him to sit on his lap. when yoongi is wasted, he craves affection, skinship, intimacy; all of it.

while taehyung’s head rested on yoongi’s shoulders, he noticed a couple that was celebrating with others on a recent engagement.
“do you love me-e-e hyunngg?” taehyung asked, playing with the hair around yoongi’s ears.
“ye-es, i lovee you sooooooo much.” yoongi replied, his speech even worse than taehyung’s.
“then why don’t youuu propose to me yet like them?” taehyung said pouting and gesturing to the group he had been watching.
“can’t babeee, not where we liveee.” yoongi said like he knew it all.
“but we are in VEGAS, we can here!” taehyung demanded. yoongi’s eyes shot up and he grabbed taehyung’s cheek and sloppily kissed his lips.
“let’s get marrieddddd!” yoongi grabbed taehyung’s wrist and called down a taxi.

“where to?” asked the middle aged man driving the taxi.
“wedding!” taehyung was the only thing he would tell him. the whole ride there was messy kisses, messed up hair, and high pitched giggles. how convenient it was to have a jeweler next to a church because taehyung bought some expensive ass rings last minute.

the whole thing went by within ten minutes and taehyung was more than happy to become min taehyung. they spit out the best of vows they could in korean and the priest just went along with it and told them to kiss. it was quite the sight too because taehyung picked, well tried to pick up yoongi and dropped him. yoongi cussed at taehyung and they took a taxi back to the hotel where they fell asleep. (not before they got a little naughty like taehyung had been wanting)

the next morning yoongi tried moving but was prevented to do so by a fancy ass ring stuck in his hair and taehyung’s naked ass body.
“what the fuck?” yoongi groaned and taehyung smacked his lips in response still asleep. yoongi looked over at the night stand and a bottle of aspirin was placed next to a water bottle along with a note.
“to the min’s”
the min’s? yoongi thought and opened the note.
“congrats on the marriage! wish you both the best of luck!”
“WHAT THE FUCK WE’RE MARRIED??!?!!!” yoongi screamed.

a couple aspirin, half a water bottle, some clothes put on, a shower, and untangled hair later; they decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing and actually laughed about it until namjoon came in pissed along with pd. when they were asked what the hell they was thinking,
“what happens in vegas…” taehyung said, looking at yoongi.
he sighed but finished the lame saying, “stays in vegas.”

inspireanddream  asked:

Oh my gooooddd can you PLEASE continue the day after Alex wakes up from getting completely shitfaced??

I got many requests for this! So here you go!

read on ao3 ( or keep reading


Alex woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of her girlfriend crawling back into bed.

“Oh my god,” Alex moaned, covering her face with her arm. “I’m never doing that again.”

Maggie handed her a couple aspirin and some water and told her to drink before relinquishing the cup of coffee she’d just brought to bed.

“I am never drinking again. That’s it. I’ve decided.”

“I don’t believe you,” Maggie laughed. “You love alcohol too much to do that.”

“I have never been this hungover before, Maggie.” Alex said, glancing up at her girlfriend.

Maggie swiped the cup of coffee out of her hands and took a sip.

“Yeah I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that drunk before, Alex.”

“Oh my god. Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid….”


Alex shot up in bed and held her pounding head in her hands before turning to Maggie.

“What did I do? Just tell me. Do it quick. Like a bandaid.”

“You just got a little handsy, that’s all.” Maggie said, trying to act like it was no big deal. Like Alex hadn’t made a complete fool of herself.

“At least tell me it was with you-”

“Oh god yes, Danvers. You didn’t grope any of the superfriends.”

“So there was groping… great…” Alex groaned and flopped back against her pillow, stealing the coffee out of Maggie’s hands and going to take a sip.

“Oh there was more than groping…. Do you really not remember anything?” Maggie asked, swiping the coffee out of Alex’s hands before she had a chance to spill it, or realize that it was black coffee and spit it out, on their nice new white comforter.

“Nothing after about the fourth shot? Maybe the fifth?”

“How much detail do you want?”

“Everything. I want everything. I can’t have Winn or James mocking me for something I don’t know about. And please tell me I’m going to be able to look at Kara? I didn’t do anything that stupid?”

“You may be able to look at her, but I don’t know if she’s gonna be able to look at you…”

Alex groaned in response, covering her face with her hands.

Maggie put the coffee cup down on the bedside table and motioned to Alex.

“Come here, Danvers. Cuddle in. It’s storytime.”

“Oh god is it that bad? So bad that I need cuddles to survive hearing it?”

“Well maybe not, but I want sober cuddles that don’t involve you sticking your hands down my pants.”

“Hands… down your pants… in public? Oh my god I’m never hearing the end of this.”

Alex moved so she she was laying in Maggie’s arms, protected from the humility by the strong arms holding her and the kisses being left on her head.

By the time Maggie finished telling Alex the events of the night before, Alex had sunk down and hidden her head beneath the blankets, resting it on Maggie’s stomach, and groaning at every new detail she provided until she finished.

“And then you passed out in your underwear, hence why you’re not clothed.”

Maggie heard mumbling from underneath the sheet.

“What was that babe? You’re gonna have to come out if you want to talk to me,” Maggie laughed.

Alex flung the sheets up and held them above her head. She left her head resting on Maggie stomach and looked up at her.

“I said, oh my god I’m never going to be able to face them again….”

“You’re fine babe! They just thought it was funny!”

“It’s mortifying! It’s one thing to hold your hand or kiss you in front of them, but to try and make out with you and attempt to have very dirty sex on my sister’s couch in front of them?? And don’t even try to tell me they don’t know it was dirty sex cause they heard all the things I said I wanted to do to you…”

“At least they didn’t take pictures! I heard them debating. They said they didn’t want you to kill them!”

“Their opinion of me has probably gone from ‘oh that’s Alex, she’s probably going to remain a lonely spinster for life and get 50 cats’ to ‘that’s Alex, she’s likes to have very, very dirty lesbian sex with her lesbian girlfriend and she doesn’t care if we happen to see’ since I met you…”

“You know that they don’t care that you’re gay, right? Or that we’re together?”

“No, I know, just… I don’t know Maggie! This is so embarrassing! Why didn’t you stop me earlier?” Alex whined.

“I tried, babe. You put up an awfully hard fight.”

“There’s this machine in the DEO lab that’s supposed to make time travel possible. What if-”

“No. Alex you are not messing with time. No matter what cool science toys you’ve got in your lab you are not playing with them.”



Alex frowned and pouted at Maggie.

“No, Alex! I will keep you in this bed all day if I have to, to keep you from going over there!”

“Well there are plenty of things I can do to entertain myself in this bed…”

Alex moved so she could straddle Maggie’s waist.

“Oh I know babe,” Maggie said, leaning up to kiss Alex, “and all of our friends do too.”

Daiken Week | Illness

Catching up!  Takes place in this universe, although no prior knowledge is necessary to understand this. <700 words.  Still no proofreading or plot in sight.

So far as Tokyo apartments go, theirs isn’t so tiny.  It’s a few hundred square feet, with the mattress tucked up into a shallow loft on one end.  They have to crawl in, not enough clearance to even sit upright, and they clamor over each other a few times a week to be on the outside.  But it keeps them from having to make room for a futon every night or sacrifice the floor space full time for a bed.  It’s close quarters, to say the least, especially for two people who have never really shared a bed before, but they’re through the worst of it.  They think.  And then Ken nudges Daisuke awake at three in the morning because he won’t stop turning over and over, jostling Ken out of sleep.

Daisuke grumbles, “I just fell asleep,” but Ken is too irritated to let it go without some recompense.

“You’ve been kicking me for an hour.”

“Mm,” Daisuke replies, and shifts over onto his side to maneuver away from the wall and further into Ken’s space.  It’s well into July and they only have a sheet on the bed, duvet folded up and tucked away until such a time as the air conditioner becomes absolutely necessary.  But it feels plenty cool now, with the balcony door pushed open to let in the breeze, the sound of late night traffic.

He drifts back off before Ken can shoulder him away, sighing, feeling bad about it but not letting Daisuke squirm in close again.

“It’s too hot,” he says, fending off Daisuke’s hold.

More often than not, this is the kind of grappling that turns into sex.  They’re still very much into the novelty of being able to do that whenever they want to, of not having anyone around who might overhear or, god forbid, walk in on them.  Daisuke in particular revels in this new freedom and has taken to hanging out around the apartment in just his underwear a lot.  Ken is more modest which, really, Daisuke thinks is hilarious.

“‘S cold,” Daisuke whines, and lets Ken elbow him away only after the puppy eyes have failed.  Much more effective in daylight, and when his head isn’t spinning a little from the effort of keeping it up off the pillow for more than a second.

Ken squints at him, reaches out across the half a foot he forced between them, and presses the back of his hand against Daisuke’s cheek.  Daisuke tilts into the touch despite the dizziness, and Ken squints harder.

“You’re warm.”

“Cold,” Daisuke whines again, out and out grumping when Ken fends him off a second time.  “Since when are you anti-snuggle?”

Ken is on the near side of the mattress tonight.  He doesn’t have to climb over Daisuke to get down out of the loft, just scooch down toward the foot and catch the stairs with his heels.

(He never jumps down, doesn’t want to disturb their downstairs neighbors.  Daisuke has made a game of crouching up tight against the highest step and leaping as far as he can.  Ken refuses to measure his distances or let him mark up the floor so he can measure them himself.)

“If I had known there would be a no snuggling rule, I never would have agreed to live with you,” Daisuke says, raising his voice as much as he dares in the middle of the night, with the balcony door open and Ken still perfectly in hearing range.  “It’s not too late to trade you in, you know.  There’s the boy at the cafe.  With the nose ring.  I bet he’d snuggle all night long.   Like an octopus.”

Ken comes halfway up the stairs with a half-empty bottle of water and a couple of aspirin.  “The boy at the cafe?”

Daisuke reaches for the water, the medicine, for Ken himself.  He makes greedy, needy little noises until Ken climbs all the way back into bed, until he lets Daisuke curl up around his hip, rest his fever-warm cheek against Ken’s stomach.

He’s almost dozed off again, already half sunk into a dream, when Ken nudges him awake.

“Which cafe?”

Pietro Maximoff Imagine: Little Picture
Words: 1.5K
Masterlist: x

Sweat coated your skin fully, your breath was shaking, your body panting as you attempted to take of the gloves struggling until a silver haired goofball did it for you. Pietro had been training in the gym also, working on the weights, although keeping an eye on you and the punching bag, making sure you were doing it correctly to not hurt yourself. He always looked out for you like that, I mean you were a big girl, you could take care of yourself but Pietro hated taking risks and would rather take care of his best friend.

“Ah, princessa, you look drained maybe go shower no?” Pietro suggested wrapping his sweaty and sore arms around you placing his chin on your head, neither of you ever really caring about the sweat or the aches in your muscles, you were both just completely enjoying the moment.

“Meet you in half an hour in the lounge, i’m making my favourite for me and you” he spoke placing a kiss on your forehead before you teletported back to your room. The perk of teleportation was that after workout you didn’t have to traipse yourself back u the stairs.

The shower was quick, you loved the feeling on your sore back muscles, but your legs could barely hold you so you cut it short, leaving your short hair to dry as you pulled on yoga pants and Pietro’s old shirts.

“Hey, princessa, thats where my shirt went” he noted as you walked into the lounge, him just finishing preparing the worlds best grilled cheese; you should have known it would be this. “You know what would be great with this?” he questioned handing you a plate as he began to root back through the cupboards. “Vodka aha!” he exclaimed running back into the lounge and taking a bite of his grilled cheese, you trying to click open the bottle of strong alcohol that would make your night more interesting.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hours must have passed and you literally felt amazing, you were so incredibly drunk, about th same as Pietro whilst you both giggled to yourselves, Pietro’s hands squishing your face.

“Ah, princessa, your beautiful face is all, squished up!” he laughed making you giggle too, he could have said anything and you would have laughed that’s how far gone you were.

“Pietro your hands are so cold” you whined him laughing and pulling you closer so you were almost straddling him, you were both too drunk to realise this was dangerous territory for friends.

“Better?” he asked his wands now around your waist, the cold feeling easing, as Pietro began to kiss your neck a little.

“P. This isn’t a good idea,” you whisper out, you trying desperately to be sober enough to stop before damage is done.

“Why not, Y/n, I love you” he slurred the kisses starting to become small bouts of sucking certain to leave a mark.

“P, I love you too but, this isn’t the way to do this, we can talk about it in the morning. Bed, we need bed” you spoke, leaning against Pietro’s chest as he somewhat picked you up before flashing you back to his room and throwing you onto the bed.

“CUDDLE!” he yelled diving on the bed with you causing giggles to explode out of your mouth as he pulled you under the covers with you, him snuggling into you taking in the scent of perfume that he loved so much.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Fuck” you murmured your eyes fluttering open over the harsh light that was draining in through the window, god did your head hurt. Sitting up you began to remember last nights ‘escapades’ and realised you were no longer in his room, you were in yours; alone.

Hopping out of the bed you glanced into the mirror and saw the little purple marks that decorated your neck making you groan. “What the f-” you whispered looking around the room, trying to work out whether or not you had dreamed a part of this.

Once you had finally gotten partially ready you decided to head downstairs and get some aspirin because god was vodka rough on you. The steps took longer than normal, partly because your muscles were collapsing underneath you and partly because each step sent shots of pain to your head, although after walking in a very funny fashion you made it to the kitchen.

“Morning drunky” Nat spoke, seeing you approach the kitchen in your hungover state. “Who was the lucky guy huh?” she questioned noticing the small purple bruises and chuckling, you blushing as you poured yourself some coffee and took a couple of aspirin, hoping the would act fast.

“Er there isn’t a lucky guy” you chuckled taking a sip of the disgusting coffee but knowing it would wake you up.
“Calling bull y/n, look!” she spoke walking over and examining your neck, “Whoever did this knew what they were doing I mean, there’s even freaking beard burn” she chuckled “Who did this?” she asked giving you the death glare. Before you had a chance Pietro walked into the room rubbing his head groaning from his hangover.

Natasha looked at him and back at you giving you the glance of ‘OH MY GOD NO. YOU DID NOT DO THAT WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND’ before turning back to look at her suddenly now very interesting coffee.

“Morning” he called out neither of you really answering, Natasha just giving him a weak smile before slipping out of the kitchen not wanting to be a part of this. “Does your head hurt as much as mine princessa” he asked taking the aspirin packet and getting two for himself before using your coffee to down them.

“Jesus y/n, what’s on your nec- oh shit that was, shit that was me wasn’t it?” he groaned once again realising what he had done. “Y/n, I am so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, here let me kiss them better” he pleaded attempting to place his lips over the bruised marks but you flinched.

“P, I don’t think you should be doing that anymore, er you said some pretty heavy stuff last night” you spoke the words hitting off your tongue harsher than what you had meant.

“What that I love you? Yeah I know I said that, I mean is it really that much of a surprise?” he asked as you turned back towards the counter, his chest against your back, his hot breath hitting your shoulder making you shudder. “Y/n, of course I love you, you are the woman I love, I don’t have a big picture of the world, I have a little picture, Wanda and you, that’s my picture, my priorities, and if it takes some Vodka to give me enough courage to tell you that then so be it. But I do, I fucking love you. I love every fucking inch of you, I love the little dimple in the bottom of your chin, I love the face you pull when you’re thinking,  I love the fact that you get these bursts of confidence when you’re with your friends, like the time you were dancing and acting so fucking sexy and then stop and become all shy. It drives me crazy, I love every single fucking thing about you and I can’t stop myself from falling in love with you more and more each day.” his strong sokovian voice spoke as his arms found themselves around your waist, his lips back onto your neck kissing over the bruises being careful not to make any more.

“P” you whispered literally biting back tears as he spun you around so you were face to face, you could see the love he had for you, you couldn’t understand how you had missed it earlier. It must have been minutes until you spoke again, you were too busy drinking in his features, his beautiful fucking eyes that you could stare into all day, had you hypnotized.

“I love you so fucking much” you smiled as he looked down and laughed, this was new territory for the both of you but you were trying to keep your calm. Pietro took your hand in his and kissed your lips softly, you both smiling into the kiss.

“Called it!” Nat yelled, running back into the kitchen causing you to pull away from his lips, you both giggling as Nat started to yel for Clint to get down here. You knew you were gonna get teased for what just happened, but you loved him that much, you didn’t even care. Clint appeared in the doorway with a surprised looking, Nat breaking the silence withe:

“Pietro has feelings, who fucking knew?”

rca9  asked:

OMG ALL THOSE PROMPTS ARE PERFECT FOR KIRIBAKU! Every. Single. One. It's so hard to choose a favorite, buut can you do number 17? Thank you!!! And congrats on 400! :D Hope many more take a liking to your blog!

((This is EXTREMELY SHORT IM SORRY. Honestly though, this is the best way this prompt worked for me, so I didn’t see the need to write a lot, because let’s be real. Baku always tells Kiri he does stupid things, but Kiri always does them for a reason.))

“Ugh, why did I eat that? Eijirou leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. Denki had dared him to eat the giant ramen bowl at their favorite shop. It was a contest, and if someone could eat the whole bowl alone, they’d win a free week of ramen. “I can’t believe I let him talk me into that.”

“You’re a fucking idiot is what you are.” Katsuki handed Eijirou a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. Sure, he was happy that Eijirou won, but at what expense? Now he was going to be whining and complaining for a few hours. Katsuki groaned and leaned his head back against the couch after he sat down next to his boyfriend.

“Blasty it was for a noble cause! I got free ramen for a week!” Eijirou whined and turned to bury his face against Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki smacked him lightly against the head before running his fingers through Eijirou’s hair. “I only did it so you can get that extra spicy ramen you like, Katsu.”

Katsuki could feel his face heating up, and he tangled his fingers in Eijirou’s hair and tugged slightly. Eijirou raised his head to look at Katsuki before smiling brightly. He leans in and kisses Katsuki on the lips gently before laying his head against Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Stupid shitty hair for being perfect.” Katsuki grumbled before kissing the side of Eijirou’s head. Always thinking of things that would make Katsuki happy instead of himself. It never failed that Eijirou always did things that would make others happy, but that’s what made him happy too. After that, it was spicy ramen for the next week and neither of them could complain.

Everything Darry Curtis says in the book.

“Are you all right, Ponyboy?”

“I’m sorry.”

“They didn’t hurt you too bad, did they?”

“You’re both nuts.”

“You don’t ever think. Not at home or anywhere when it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you’ve always got your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade.”

“When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I’ll ask you—kid brother.”

“I’m working tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, since it ain’t a school night.”

“Rub harder, Soda. You’re gonna put me to sleep.”

“Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?”

“Well, it’s two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police after you. Where were you, Ponyboy? Where in the almighty universe were you?”

“You what?”

“I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you thrown in a boys’ home so quick it’d make your head spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can’t you use your head? You haven’t even got a coat on.”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t think! I forgot! That’s all I ever hear out of you! Can’t you think of anything?”

“You keep your trap shut! I’m sick and tired of hearin’ you stick up for him.”


“Pony, I didn’t mean to”


“Oh, Pony, I thought we’d lost you…like we did Mom and Dad.”

“He didn’t get much sleep this week. He hardly slept at all.”

“We’d better go home. We can’t do anything here.”

“He’s sure lost a lot of weight.”

“I ironed. They’re in my closet. Hurry up, you’re gonna be late.”

“Yeah, the cops told me last night.”


“Where you gonna get the dough, little man?”

“We’d better get on to work, Pepsi-Cola.”

“I hate to leave you here by yourself, Ponyboy. Maybe I ought to take the day off.”

“You two do up the dishes. You can go to the movies if you want to before you go see Dally and Johnny. Two-Bit, lay off. He ain’t lookin’ so good. Ponyboy, you take a couple of aspirins and go easy. You smoke more than a pack today and I’ll skin you. Understood?”

“Yeah. See y’all this afternoon.”

“I’m gonna show ‘em off on you, little buddy, if you get any mouthier.”

“I don’t know if you ought to be in this rumble, Pony.”

“Yeah. You fight real good for a kid your size. But you were in shape before. You’ve lost weight and you don’t look so great, kid. You’re tensed up too much.”

“Well, Johnny won’t be there this time…but then, Curly Shepard won’t be there either, or Dally, and we’ll need every man we can get.”

“Well, I guess you can. But be careful, and if you get in a jam, holler and I’ll get you out.”

“Man, this is one kid brother I don’t have to worry about.”

“This kiddo can use his head. You can see he uses it for one thing—to grow hair on.”

“Juvenile delinquent, you’re no good!”

“Listen, Soda, you and Ponyboy, if the fuzz show, you two beat it out of there. The rest of us can only get jailed. You two can get sent to a boys’ home.”

“All the same, you two blow at the first sign of trouble. You hear me?”

“I’ll take on anyone.”

“Hello, Paul.”

“We won. We beat the Socs.”

“Where have you been?”

“Ponyboy, what’s the matter?”


“It was Dally. He phoned from a booth. He’s just robbed a grocery store and the cops are after him. We gotta hide him. He’ll be at the lot in a minute.”

“Ponyboy, you okay?”

“Gosh, kid, you had us scared to death.”

“I told you you were in no condition for a rumble. Exhaustion, shock, minor concussion—and Two-Bit came blubberin’ over here with some tale about how you were running a fever before the rumble and how it was all his fault you were sick. He was pretty torn up that night. We all were.”

“You got a concussion from getting kicked in the head—Soda saw it. He landed all over that Soc. I’ve never seen him so mad. I think he could have whipped anyone, in the state he was in. Today’s Tuesday, and you’ve been asleep and delirious since Saturday night. Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t know, baby. I just don’t know.”

“Do you even remember being in the hospital?”

“You kept asking for me and Soda. Sometimes for Mom and Dad, too. But mostly for Soda.”

“Johnny left you his copy of Gone with the Wind. Told the nurse he wanted you to have it.”

“Asleep, I hope. I thought he was going to go to sleep shaving this morning and cut his throat. I had to push him to bed, but he was out like a light in a second.”

“No rough stuff, little buddy.”

“I should think you would be. You wouldn’t eat anything most of the time you were sick. How’d you like some mushroom soup?”

“I’ll go make some. Sodapop, take it easy with him, okay?”


“There’s a guy here to see you. Says he knows you. His name’s Randy.”

“You want to see him?”

“Hey, Randy. I think you’d better go now.”

“Don’t ever say anything to him about Johnny. He’s still pretty racked up mentally and emotionally. The doc said he’d get over it if we gave him time.”

“Ponyboy Curtis, put out that cigarette!”

“You’re not going to die if you don’t get a smoke. But if that bed catches on fire you will. You couldn’t make it to the door through that mess.”

“Maybe you can be a little neater, huh, little buddy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re not going to drop out. Listen, with your brains and grades you could get a scholarship, and we could put you through college. But schoolwork’s not the point. You’re living in a vacuum, Pony, and you’re going to have to cut it out. Johnny and Dallas were our buddies, too, but you don’t just stop living because you lose someone. I thought you knew that by now. You don’t quit! And anytime you don’t like the way I’m running things you can get out.”

“It’s the letter he wrote Sandy. Returned unopened.”

“When Sandy went to Florida…it wasn’t Soda, Ponyboy. He told me he loved her, but I guess she didn’t love him like he thought she did, because it wasn’t him.”

“He wanted to marry her anyway, but she just left. Why didn’t he tell you? I didn’t think he’d tell Steve or Two-Bit, but I thought he told you everything.”

“He cried every night that week you were gone. Both you and Sandy in the same week. Come on, let’s go after him.”

“Circle around and cut him off. I’ll stay right behind him.”

“Sure, little buddy. We aren’t going to fight anymore.”

“No more fights. Okay, Ponyboy?”

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Mother's Day isn't the best or happiest day for most of the crew but jack try's her best to make everyone feel better. This year they've decided its her turn to be happy this Mother's Day. I feel like Gavin would really want to make hand made cards.

This one is adorable. Thank you so much for sending it to me :)

Jack never really thought about having kids. Being second-in-command to one of the most notorious crews in the city, the idea of bringing a child into her life right now seemed cruel. They’d constantly be in danger, constantly be on guard, and any form of normality for them would be behind a sheet of bullet proof glass.

Besides, keeping an eye on Geoff and his lost boys is kind of a full time job, and if this is what being a parent is like Jack’s not sure she’ll ever want kids.

It’s not all bad though, being a sort of surrogate mother to the crew. She’s never asked the others what their relationship with their parents is like, only knowing her own and a little of Geoff’s, but from the way Michael and Ryan seem to shy away from affection and the way Gavin seems to crave it, she has a pretty good idea how exactly these boys were raised.

They’re too old to have their cuts and bruises kissed, and she’s not stupid enough to try, but she does try to keep them mostly in one piece. She keeps the first aid kit fully stocked, she has Burnie’s number on speed dial just in case she can’t help them, and for the most part no one has died. It’s a win in her books.

She remembers birthdays and hounds Geoff during the holidays to get them something (even if it’s just a stack of money he chucks at their heads on the 24th). She keeps them in line during heists (or at least tries her hardest) and makes sure they get homes safe if they’ve been drinking. A few times she’s even dragged Geoff’s ass to bed after a bender, cursing him the entire time, but still leaving behind a glass of water and a couple aspirin on his nightstand.

She takes care of them, cleans up their messes, breaks up their arguments, stops Michael from killing Gavin, is there for them, and sometimes it’s worth the headaches for the good moments.

Keep reading

How Charming

I tried to fit in everything to one chapter but it’d be way too long and I doubt I’d have gotten it done tonight so I split them and I’m working on the ficlet btw there’ll be a little surprise in it for you Dev. Did I mention that watching boys drink is kind of a turn-on for me?

Originally posted by xecron

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

After waking up and pulling on some clothes you realised you needed to take out the trash. You sighed as you tied the garbage bag and headed out to dispose it.

Much to your embarrassment, you ran into Erica on the way back. She was clad in one of Boyd’s t-shirts and she smirked at you knowingly.

Keep reading

Meet the New Boss Part 6

Summary:  You run to Sam for comfort after facing Abby, and Sam decides to take action when it comes to what he wants.
Warnings: Angst, almost smut. Language.
Word Count: 1929
A/N: this entire chapter is from Sam’s P.O.V.

Sorry this chapter is so short! I felt the need to get another chapter written and this was short and to the point!

Tagging! @holywaterbucketchallenge @kazchester-fanfiction @221-blue-impala @bookshido @kelsey-spn @emmy-winchester @oriona75 @rockerdestiel13 @winchester-writes @justanotherdeangirl25 @deansgirlria



Sam watched quietly as Y/N seethed, her rage evident in (y/e/c) eyes. She ordered two more shots of tequila, downing one as soon as the waitress set it on the table. She was ominously quiet, her cell phone constantly vibrating against the table.

“Y/N…?” Sam ventured, unsure of how to soothe her.

“Yea, Sammy?” she grinned at him. It shouldn’t have sounded so good when she said his name, but damn if he didn’t find his thoughts wandering to how it would sound as she moaned it into his ear, their naked bodies sliding together as he– Sam shook his head, chasing away the impossible fantasy.  

Sam wanted to say so much; tell her how badly he wanted her, or ask what had happened with Dean. He settled for being nice. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She downed the second shot and grabbed the waitress, ordering whiskey. “Yep, just fine,” she smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach her eyes. Her phone vibrated again and she ripped the back off, pulling the battery and dropping all three pieces into her purse unceremoniously. “That’s better.”

Sam took a drink from his own glass and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He ignored it, knowing it was Dean. “So, what happened?” He was dying to know why Dean would think she would run to him.

“Abby,” Was the only word Y/N had to utter. Sam knew exactly who she was, and why she had shown up at Dean’s office. They were married, after all.

Sam nodded his understanding, draining his glass and ordering beer. Y/N ordered another whiskey. “I know she can be…difficult.”

“Shower sex is difficult, Sam. That woman…” she trailed off, and Sam noticed that her words were starting to slur together. “That woman is evil.”

“Well, the whole state of Kansas would probably agree with you.” Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. At her wide eyed confusion he elaborated. “She’s the state senator.”

“Ew,” She groaned in response, raking a hand through her hair. Her look of disgust went back to hurt quickly. “Why would he lie to me, Sam?” Her voice was barely audible over the sounds of the bar, which was filling with people just now getting off work.

Sam took a deep breath, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Truthfully, he didn’t know why Abby wouldn’t just sign the divorce papers and leave Dean alone, but he knew it had something to do with her campaign trail. “I don’t know, Y/N. He’s in a tight spot,”

“Yea, I bet he is.” She grumbled sarcastically. With difficulty Sam stopped the laugh from escaping his lips. He didn’t comment further, just watched silently as she finished her drink, deciding that it was time for her to get home.

“Come on, you need to get some rest.” Sam stood, tossing some money onto the table for their drinks. Y/N followed, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. Sam smirked and tangled his fingers with hers, relieved when she didn’t pull her hand away.

The cab ride seemed long with only the scent of Y/N and the bar confined in the small space, invading Sam’s every sense. It didn’t help that she was leaning on him, although he doubted she could help it, he did take up most of the backseat. By the time they got to her house Sam had worked himself into such a state with the thought of Y/N that he found it difficult to get out of the cab.

“Sam!” Y/N slurred as he opened her door, an adorable giggle falling from her lips. She tried to climb out of the cab and Sam had to catch her before she busted her face on the pavement.

“Where are your keys?” Sam kept her steady as she dug through her bag, producing her keys with a flourish. Sam snatched them out of her hand and swooped her up bridal style, her smaller frame warm against his chest. “When’s the last time you ate a decent meal?” He wondered out loud. It was almost too easy to lift her.

“Sam, don’t ask stupid questions.” She muttered, burrowing her face into his neck. Her breath ghosted across his skin as she breathed out a laugh. “What does it matter? You eat enough for both of us!”

Sam chuckled, shifting most of her weight to one arm so he could get the front door open. “Y/N, you just need to get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Sam kicked the front door shut and dropped Y/N gently on the couch, where her head lolled against the armrest.

It took him a few minutes to find aspirin, setting a couple pills and water on her bedside table. When he came back to the couch to get her he thought she was asleep, until his hands slid under her and she blinked sleepily at him. “Come on, off to bed.” He lifted her off the couch, carrying her down the hall to her room.

“Sam,” She giggled, caressing his face. “Sammy, do you know how attractive you are?”

Sam gave her a tight smile, using his shoulder to shove the bedroom door open. He set her on her feet, where she swayed but remained upright, clutching onto his biceps tightly. “You alright?” He smoothed her hair back from her face and she beamed at him, his heart constricting painfully in his chest. “Fuck it,” He leaned over, closing the distance between them to capture her lips in a hungry kiss, his arms snaking around her waist to hold her to him tightly.

She moaned against his lips, her breath tainted with the sweet taste of the whiskey she had been drinking, making Sam want her more. He walked her backwards until she fell onto the bed, Sam landing on top of her. He used one of his knees to nudge her legs apart, cradling himself between her thighs as her hands clutched at him, her fingers tangling in his hair. Sam wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her farther up the bed as his lips moved to her neck, then to her chest.

Sam was already so hard it hurt, and the fact that her hips were bucking up against him was only making it worse. He growled and slid his hand up her shirt, soft warm skin sliding smoothly under his palm. Her hands flew from his hair to the buttons of his shirt, deftly popping them open one by one. His hips rocked into her of their own accord, her small moans pushing him to move faster. She breathed his name, a satisfaction exploding in his chest as his hips pistoned, his fingers clawing into the soft skin of her ribcage.  

He pulled her up against him, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it onto the floor. She had his shirt pulled down over his shoulders before he came back to his senses. He ripped himself away from her, chest heaving as he leaped from the bed.  She sat bolt upright, her lips swollen and wet from kissing him, her cheeks a blazing pink. “What?” she asked, out of breath. She grabbed the blanket and covered her chest.

It took all of Sam’s will not to walk back over to her and fuck her into the mattress, Dean be damned. “I can’t do this,” He gasped, shaky hands trying to fix his shirt.

Y/N’s eyes welled up and she ducked her head, no doubt so Sam couldn’t see her tears.

He rushed to her side, careful to avoid too much touching for fear of not being able to stop. “Look, Y/N,” He paused, not sure how to proceed.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, I just kind of threw myself at you, I-”

Sam cut her off, grabbing her shaking shoulders. “God, no! Please. This was all my fault! I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. I just-I want you so much, you have no idea, and I just let my moral compass go a little off center, and I’m sorry. I know you don’t want this, though. Y/N, Dean does care about you. That much is evident. Last week when you weren’t talking, he was a wreck. He barely ate or slept.” Sam scrubbed his knuckles over his jaw. “I’m not saying he’s the best, or he was in the right here. I’m just saying that maybe you should talk to him, and see where it goes from there.”

She nodded, and he took that as a good sign, even though her eyes were still swimming with tears. “Please get some sleep, you look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Ah yes, the side effects of your sexual prowess,” she giggled, a hiccup escaping midway through. Sam smiled, his thumb trailing across her cheek. It wouldn’t take anything just to lean in and kiss her goodnight, but he refrained.

“I gotta go, okay? Before I do something we both regret. Can I trust you to go to sleep?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. Y/N nodded again and laid back on the pillows and he stood. “I left aspirin and water for you, I’m gonna go sit in your living room until you fall asleep.” He looked towards the door, then back to Y/N, who’s eyes were shut, her breathing even. “That was fast,” He smiled at down at her, closing the bedroom door after shutting the light off.

Sam had locked the front door and was halfway back to the street, calling a cab service when he saw Dean from the corner of his eye. “Dean? What are you doing here?”

Dean was drunk, that much Sam could tell. He went ahead and called the cab, not seeing Dean’s car anywhere nearby.

“Just came to see Y/N/N.” Dean slurred with a stupid grin. His smile faltered when he realized Sam’s shirt was unbuttoned.

“Look, man, maybe now’s not the right time. You’re drunk, she’s asleep, just let the heat die down.” Sam held up both hands when Dean swung at him, easily deflecting his drunken punch. “What the hell, Dean?”

“So, you think just cuz we fought you could screw my girlfriend?” Dean was enraged, and shouting. Sam’s eyes darted to the dark houses, not wanting the neighbors to witness this.

“Dean, it’s not even like that and you know it!” Sam spit back, his own temper getting the best of him. “You’re friggin’ wife showed up at your office! She was hurt and felt betrayed! What was she supposed to do?” Sam saw the bruise on Dean’s jaw and let out a rude laugh. “She punched you?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yea! It hurts, okay? Doesn’t change the fact that you’re sleeping with Y/N!” Dean lunged at him and Sam sidestepped him. “You’re just pissed because you want her and I have her!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam roared, suddenly not caring if the neighbors heard. “You have her and you don’t even deserve her! Why don’t you try telling her the damn truth? She deserves that much, at least!”

Dean sagged, suddenly looking very tired. “I love her, Sam.”

Sam saw real anguish in Dean’s eyes as he stared at his best friend. Sam watched the cab pull up and park by the curb. “If that’s how you really feel then you need to fix this. And fix it now.”

Caller Number 9

Summary: Because let’s face it, your girlfriends won’t tell you when the boy of your dreams isn’t interested. So what’s left? Calling the late night radio show host known as Min Suga is a good option right? He’ll tell you how it is and ruin you while fixing your love life. Counterproductive? Definitely.

Original Scan: ©

Chapters 1-11

Chapter 12: Dial Tone

“You look like shit.”

It’s not exactly the nicest comment to wake up to, but Yoongi’s going to pretend he didn’t hear Namjoon, who is currently sitting on his couch with a bowlful of cereal and cartoons playing on the tv. At least it helps that Namjoon’s already done him the favor of setting aside a gatorade, a couple of aspirins, and a steaming cup of coffee with a dash of vanilla creamer.

“Go away.”

“Good morning to you too princess,” Namjoon speaks around a mouthful of cereal.

Keep reading

The sun came in through the cracks in the shades and curtains, streaking the sitting room in ribbons of light that only made Sherlock burrow deeper into the cocoon he had made out of the worn warm duvet he had been given to cover up with. It cut the chill out of the air, but it did little to reduce the tremors that ran though his body as he went through withdrawal. Greg had been kind enough to allow him to stay as he tired to get and stay clean. The sergeant had always been so kind to him, even when he didn’t have a reason to, he had taken him in when he had no where else to go. The older man had become sort of a parent to him, making sure he was alright, coming to pick him up when he felt lost, always giving him a place to stay, a place to shower, and something to eat even if he knew that Sherlock would just go back out there and be clean for a few days before it started up all over again. 

Sherlock sighed as he turned and curled up on his side, pulling his knees to he chest as he tried to stop his limbs for shaking like leaves in the wind. He had been doing so good, Greg had told him so that morning before he had left for work. 

He had been half asleep as he heard the officer make his way into the sitting room, there was a pause at the edge of the couch before their was a warm hand running through his curls. 

“You have been doing so good Kid, I’’m so proud of you.” Greg whispered before he removed his hand and pulled the duvet over his shoulder before patting it, his hand lingering for a moment before he turned and made his way towards the door, shutting it softly as he left. 

Someone was proud of him because he was doing so good and that was such a wonderful feeling but it wasn’t doing a thing to dull the chills he felt or the aches that were creeping into his body from laying like this. He knew what would put an end to all of these feelings, and it would even kill the boredom in his own head, but he could do it, could he? It was simple enough, his case was in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom where Greg had placed it. he had assumed when he had taken it from the duffle Sherlock had, it was empty, but there was a needle already prepped, waiting to sink into his skin. 

Groaning he sat up, the duvet falling away from his head to settle around his shoulders as his curls stood up in an unruly mess from sleep. his face felt warm and he was tired even though he had slept a decent amount. but that was just another symptom of his withdrawal. He could do it, he had done it before, it couldn’t be that hard to make it until the symptoms stopped right?

Wrong. He was so very wrong, everything hurt, his joints, his muscles, and the shaking was only making things worse, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t last the next forty five minutes until Greg got home to distract him from all of this, he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He stood, shoving the idea of being defeated as he stumbled towards the bathroom. His legs threatened to go out from under him as he turned the knob and opened the door, feeling around for the light before switching it on. light spilling into the room from the iridescent from above, making it easier for him to navigate his way to the medicine cabinet. Sherlock grasped the sink as he saw his reflection in the mirror, his pale, gaunt face, messy hair. 

“I don’t always look this way, you know”

“I am sure you don’t kid, but this is the only way I see you”

He groaned as that particular conversation ran through his head and he nearly sunk to the floor to wait until Greg came home, but the thing that would make him stop feeling so awful was within reach.  The brunette reached out and opened the medicine cabinet, the door opening with a creak, revealing a few prescription bottles, some aspirin, a couple half finished bottles of antacid, a bar of soap, and his case. With it in hand, he slowly sunk down to the floor, 

There was something off as Greg got home, the air felt different as he stuck his key into the lock, the tumbler turning over with ease before he opened the door. the sight of an empty couch greeted him, he sighed as he took in the blanket curled up on the sofa before looking around to notice Sherlock’s belongs : his duffle, scarf, and worn coat, where still there meaning he had not left the flat. 

He swore to himself as he shrugged off his jacket as he threw it on his chair as he made his way down the hall. The bathroom door was ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hall. Greg hoped that Sherlock had just gotten ill, but deep down he knew better.


He was met with silence and he closed his eyes as he pushed open the door. The breath that he had been open escaped his chest as he opened his eyes to find this house guest on the floor curled up next to his tub, his case on the floor, next to him. The officer made his way inside, bending down to pick up the paraphernalia and closing it, careful not to stick himself as he placed it in the sink basin. 

he maneuvered himself onto the floor next to the younger man before gently wrapping his arms around him, pulling him to his side. He made no sound of disappointment at the fact he had found the young man strung out on his bathroom floor.

“G-Greg?” Sherlock’s voice came out raspy from misuse and confused most likely from the drugs. “I-I’m sorry… I tried but I’m sorry I could’t do it.” 

“Shhh sunshine.” Greg muttered as he ran his hand through the messy curls on the head that was resting on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Sherlock breathed “I’m sorry” 

Greg pulled him closer, bringing the younger man  his lap in order to hold him better, Sherlock’s head coming to rest in the crook of his neck.

“Don’t be angry with me.” He mumbled as Greg turned his head and looked at the dark haired man he was holding. 

“I’m not angry, this can happen to anyone,Sherlock, even you.” He replied as he placed a kiss on his forehead before resting his head against the others, his nose pressed into the black curls