A/N – A request
from a sweet Nonnie: “I can feel the start of the flu hitting me…as terrible
as I feel, the one thing that’s making it okay, is imagining Dean taking care
of me and being all sweet and cuddly and loving and yeah. :) Any chance you’d
be willing to write a story about that? Where Dean takes care of the reader
when they’re sick?”
I hope you felt better very soon
after you sent your request in. :)
You’d lied to them; you still felt a little bad about it,
but you knew you’d do the same thing if you had it to do over again.
When Dean told you about the hunt Sam had found, you were
already starting to feel under the weather.
Your head was starting to hurt, and as much as you were hoping it was
just allergies or something simple – something that you just needed a couple of
aspirin and a nice long nap to get over – you knew that this was something
more. You were cold – freezing actually
– and hadn’t been able to warm up. You
felt feverish, but pushed it away. After
all, if you didn’t admit you were getting sick, it would go away, right?
Prompt made by @otpprompts: “AU where Person A is an Uber driver picking up Person B from a bar. Person B is so drunk they can’t remember where they live, so Person A takes Person B to their house out of the kindness of their heart (and also because Person B is cute). What happens next is up to you.Bomis: Person B wakes up on Person A’s couch with a hangover and can’t remember a thing from last night. When Person B suddenly realises that the couch is not theirs, Person A comes into the living room to check on Person A. Person B is very surprised. What happens next is up to you.“
A/n: I just really loved this prompt and got an idea so I did, lmao! Hope you loves like it!!! I appreciate any feedback especially with stuff that wasn’t requested. Love ya! _____
Being an Uber driver wasn’t where you imagined yourself when you were 11 thinking ‘what am I going to be in 10 years?’ But alas, you’re in college and money is money. You make some decent cash and meet some interesting people, making it not that bad. So this is why you were out for a drive at around two in the morning, getting a notification about a call for an Uber at a local bar. It wasn’t peculiar for you to get Uber requests at that bar, it’s quite a hot spot.
Pulling up to the bar you put the car in park. A tall guy with bright blue eyes and dark hair with a white streak through it tumbled into your back seat. Looking back you tried not to stare, this man was fucking gorgeous. You could pretty much see his muscles bulging through his leather jacket. “Um sir? Mr. Todd?” You caught his attention, and you thought you’d melt under his blue hues. Though they were also bloodshot and this guy was off his ass drunk. “Ja-sun” He slurred before laughing.
You cleared your voice, “Okay, uh. Jason? Where am I taking you tonight? Home?” He nodded and went to tell you the address but instead just stared at you blankly. “I, I can’t remember” he snorted before starting to laugh again. You chuckled to yourself while trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could drive him around until he recognized it? No, that wouldn’t work; this is a big city. Call a family member? Wouldn’t he have called them in the first place if they were available? Probably. Sighing you looked back to see him about to crash in your back seat, you reached back and tapped his leg. He picked his head up to look at you.
“Hey, um. I’m just going to take you to my place where you can crash until the morning, you’re wasted and I just don’t want you wandering the streets drunk. But drink some of that water while I drive, capiche?” He smiled at you before nodding and stumbling to get one of the waters. Turning back around in your seat, you drove back to your apartment.
He was quiet throughout the drive, the occasional chuckle to himself in his drunken state. When pulling into your parking garage you got out before opening his door and helping him to his feet. When out, Jason slung an arm over your shoulder as you held his stomach and back to help support him. ‘Shit, he’s ripped.’ Thinking when feeling his abs through his shirt. “What’s your name?” He asked as you began to help him to the elevator. “[F/n] [L/n]” answering before meeting the elevator and clicking the button. “[F/n]” he repeated to himself, under his breath. “That’s a pretty name.” He had a goofy grin on his face when saying that, right before the elevator dinged.
Helping him in, he tripped over his own feet and ended up pulling you down with him. Though instead of landing on the floor you landed on his chest. He was too drunk to care, but he caught your eyes as you blushed. “You’re really pretty.” He whispered, making you blush more before getting off him and helping him to his feet again. ‘He’s just drunk, he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying.’ Shaking your blush off with that thought. Patiently you waited for the elevator to meet your floor. Eventually it did, and you helped him to the door.
After unlocking it you helped him in, leading him to the couch before flopping on it. Pushing some hair out of your face, you smiled at your success. Jason had fallen asleep almost immediately as his body met the couch. Walking into your bedroom, you snatched up a blanket and went to the couch again and set it on the coffee table. You pulled off his jacket and shoes for him before laying the blanket over him. Then going to the kitchen you filled a glass with water and grabbed a couple aspirin. Returning you set it on the coffee table for when he woke up, along with a note saying ‘be sure to drink this and take these when you get up.’ Sighing you leaned down and pushed his hair from his face, getting a better look at his features than when he was in the back of your car.
He had a sharp jawline and a more pointed nose. Never would you think you’d get such an attractive stranger on your couch. Chuckling you shook your head and turned out all the lights before heading into your room and preparing for bed before snuggling in your bed and falling asleep for the night.
The following morning Jason woke up with a splitting headache. He groaned before opening his eyes. The light coming into the room blinded him as he stretched his sore and stiff muscles. Pulling the blanket up over his shoulder again, but looking at it he saw red roses patterned on it. Wait.. he doesn’t own a blanket like that. Opening his eyes again he looked around to notice this wasn’t his living room, wasn’t his couch or coffee table. “What?” he mumbled to himself before sitting up and noticing the note on the table. That handwriting wasn’t familiar at all.
“You’re awake” A voice said from behind him. Turning he saw you standing at your bedroom door in fluffy pajama pants and a tank top. He stared at you confused, making you smile amused, “You don’t remember anything do you?”
Jason felt a bit embarrassed, not only at the fact he couldn’t remember the prior night but also that a really beautiful woman had taken care of his drunken self. “Um, did we?” He gestured between you both. Getting what he was implying, you blushed. “No” Feeling a bit sheepish. “You called for an Uber after your night at the bar. I was your driver, you were pretty drunk and couldn’t remember your address so I brought you back to my place for the night. I’m [F/n] [L/n].” Walking over to him, you offered a hand. He shook yours, he felt a bit more embarrassed. He couldn’t remember his address? You must think he’s a loser.
“I’m sorry you had to turn into my babysitter.” Jason apologized while scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Oh, no worries. I didn’t mind.” You looked over to the coffee table, “You should take those, you probably have a killer hangover.” Jason chuckled and nodded, quickly taking the pills. “Thank you.”
Nodding you smiled and started toward your kitchen, “I’m making breakfast. You’re more than welcome to stay if you’d like.” Jason perked up a bit. “Really? I wouldn’t want to intrude.” That made you laugh before walking into the hallway, looking at him over your shoulder calling, “You already stayed the night, it’s impossible to intrude now.” Jason smiled before getting up slowly and following you into the kitchen. “Well I guess I owe you twice now. Once for taking care of me last night, and another for breakfast. Can I make it up to you? Over dinner?” A playful smirk played on his features.
Turning around you faced him, “Are you asking me out on a date?” Grinning at him. He shrugged, “I guess I am.” You bit your lip and laughed to yourself while looking at the ground. “I’d love to.” Meeting his eyes, Jason smiled and walked over, grabbing a few eggs and cracking them in a bowl, making you looked at him with your brows knitted together. He chuckled, “I’m a killer cook and stubborn, so, I’d just accept my help instead of fighting it.” Shrugging you laughed before moving to stand next to him. Nudging him with your hip before cutting up some fruit. You each exchanged a smile, this was a start to something interesting.
a while ago, @blacktofade and i basically ruined ourselves by thinking up the most angsty shit we could, which was mpreg + amnesia, soooo here’s that for y’all. (caution: there are several very brief allusions to a past physical assault) (also: i ain’t no doctor, CLEARLY)
You swept all the red from my cheeks I didn’t hear you come back inside I light up the gas in the den And stand there in the thin winter light But, oh god, that curve in your spine A question mark, a doctor’s sigh Was framed by the windowsill You saw something I did not in the night [x]
Stiles stands in the middle of the basement with his hands on his hips, frowning around vaguely. What’d he come down here for, again? God, he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his shoulders. The place is a mess, a jumble of boxes at his feet. Stiles frowns as he bends to pick one of the boxes up, not sure where the sports equipment it holds came from; Stiles certainly never played baseball. It smells faintly of alpha and he shudders a little as he shoves the box back onto the shelves; it must have come with the house when he bought it - he remembers the shed out back being full of crap too; it’d taken him, his dad, and Scott a full weekend to clear it all out and take everything to the dump.
“Oh, no,” Stiles sighs when he picks up another box; his phone’s underneath it, the screen smashed. “Fuck,” he adds, with great emphasis, at the way his head throbs when he bends over to pick it up. That hurts. Stiles straightens with another sigh and examines his phone; the screen still lights up, but it’s mostly broken squares of color - useless. Like he can spare another couple hundred dollars for a new phone right now. He - Stiles tilts his head up, squinting thoughtfully at the ceiling. He’s got the feeling he’s forgetting something.
Across the basement, the washing machine plays its cheerful tune noting the current load’s done and Stiles shrugs, abandoning the mess by the shelves so he can go shove clothes into the dryer. After, he heads back upstairs, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. His head’s starting to ache, growing worse by the minute, and he knows he’s got a list of things that need to be done - there’s always something that needs to be done - but it can wait. He goes up to the second floor instead, stops by the bathroom to down a couple aspirin, and then heads for his bedroom, his vision blurring. Stiles can’t remember the last time he got a migraine - fuck, he was probably in high school - but he remembers that it sucks.
Claire inhaled deeply while the door closed behind her, leaning against it and trapping her hands between it and her back. It still smelled the same way she remembered it. A mixture of old wood and roses. His father would always make sure there was a fresh dozen of them in the living room, by their wedding photograph. The image of them dancing to the beat of Tony Bennet, the verses running through her mind.
summary: So, the year is 1999. Eddie is 23 years old, telepathic, and lives with his childhood best friend, Bill, in Portland, Maine. He meets a young musician with a knack for speed named Richie at a bar. Based off @trashmouthloser‘s mutant!loser club headcanons!!
warnings: alcohol, pretty s*xual flirting (but no s*x)
A/N: i wrote a lot this time?? i think it’s because we’re getting into the good (gay) parts of the story and it’s so much fun to write. i realized that i forgot to write bill’s stutter in the first chapter, whoops. it’s really mild in this fic bc he has more control of it as an adult but he still has it. thank you so much for reading, liking, and reblogging!! Please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!
A slight sting ran through Eddie’s head as he stirred from sleep. He faintly began to remember the events of last night and groaned at the thought of his forwardness. Quietly, he cursed Mike and Bill under his breath for not stopping him, but he checked his answering machine anyway - mentally prepared for either nothing at all or a disastrous rejection voicemail.
He supposed it was better than, “hey, fuck you. I’m not interested in bar-hookups.”
Only slightly, though.
Normally, he has to know a guy for months to even consider holding hands with them (which is the reason why most of his relationships fizzle out, but he prefers not to talk about that). But, he felt some sort of magnetic pull last night that he wants to blame entirely on a mixture of physical attraction and alcohol, which isn’t all that difficult.
Eddie got out of bed to take a couple aspirin only to find Richie sitting at his kitchen table, reading one of Eddie’s old Spiderman comic and sipping black coffee from one of the mugs Eddie’s mother sent him. His heart dropped from his chest into his stomach, as he stood there wide-eyed staring at him.
Dear fucking god, what did he do last night?!
He doesn’t even remember Richie coming home with him last night. There isn’t a pain in his lower back and his bed seemed to be stain-free, so they couldn’t have slept together. But, it doesn’t explain why a man he clearly saw get into a van with his band and drive off was sitting at his kitchen table.
Maybe, he was having a fever dream.
Richie sensed Eddie and glanced up from his comic book and coffee. When he laid eyes on him, he broke out into a smirk and had dark hooded eyes. Eddie didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know what Richie was thinking when he saw Eddie’s shocked stare and slightly agape mouth.
“Hey, princess,” he drawled, making Eddie’s face heat up in anger and embarrassment. Maybe, he didn’t like Richie as much as the alcohol did.
“Don’t call me that!” Eddie snapped. “What are you doing in my apartment?”
Richie tsked, with a faux frown. “You’re certainly being rude to a house guest,” he scolded.
“I don’t even remember inviting you into my house!”
Eddie’s face was as red as a Coke can, and Richie could clearly tell he was seething, as his stifled laughter indicated.
Suddenly, a huge roaring laugh burst from him and he yelled out “I can’t, Bill! I can’t do it!”
Bill entered the kitchen, laughing just as hard as Richie. But, when he looked back, Richie wasn’t Richie. He was Mike, pounding his hand on the table as he laughed so hard he was nearly in tears.
After a heated moment of confusion and fear, Eddie realized Mike used his shapeshifting abilities to trick him. If he was angry earlier, he was twice as angry now.
“You guys are assholes!” Eddie shouted, quickly turning on his heel to storm upstairs.
“Y-You should’ve seen the l-look on your face,” Bill shouted after him.
When he got up to his room, he immediately breathed out a sigh of relief that he didn’t fuck anything up last night. But, he also cursed himself because even a fake Richie could get him so riled up.
Silently, Eddie stewed in his irritation and anger long after Mike had left to go home. Not speaking to him as they picked up around the house and finished various chores.
When Eddie heard the phone ringing in the kitchen, he bolted from the living room to answer it, ignoring Bill’s amused giggling. He swears to god that if this is his mom, he’s going to lock himself in his room forever.
“Hello,” he said slightly out of breath.
“Uuhm, hi,” the person on the other end says awkwardly, “Is Eddie there?”
“This is Eddie,” he tries to say with the utmost calmness but winced slightly at how enthused he sounded.
“Oh hey!” the voice says excitedly, “This is Richie.”
Eddie mouths the words “yes, thank you, Jesus” a couple times, pumping his fisting. He could totally hear Bill giggling in the living room and making kissing noises, but he really didn’t give a fuck.
Clearing his throat, he begins as nonchalantly as possible, “what’s up, Rich?”
Unknown to Eddie, Richie preens at the nickname on the other side of the line.
“A couple college students my bandmates know are throwing a party in the suburbs, and I was wondering if you and your friends wanted to come?” Richie said in an excited rush. Eddie could barely understand was he was saying, save for “party” and “wanted to come.” Typically, Eddie didn’t go to parties during his years in high school and college. When he did, he was always dragged there by a friend, namely Bill. But, this was an attractive musician he almost kissed last night.
This was all Eddie needed to know before he enthusiastically said “yes.” Though Richie couldn’t see it, he was vehemently nodding his head and bobbing up and down like an excited child. He could barely contain himself as he wrote down the address.
“Great! I’ll see you tonight, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie drawled in his normal raspy voice, feeling slightly more relaxed.
Before Eddie could reprimand him for the nickname, he hung up, leaving Eddie under Bill’s intense gaze.
“S-so?” Bill asked.
“So, we’re totally going to a college party, tonight,” Eddie stated, pointedly avoiding Bill’s shocked stare.
“E-Eddie, you hate p-parties,” he deadpanned while looking at Eddie as if he had stepped out of an insane asylum.
The other man shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, still avoid Bill’s eyes. He mumbled, “I don’t hate them that much.”
“In y-your own words, they are ‘smelly, loud, and a b-breeding ground for g-germs and STDs,’” Bill recited smugly.
“This is different.”
“Cute boy,” Eddie stated simply. Bill shook his head in disbelief and relented to Eddie’s wish.
The house was far out in the suburbs and looked like something from those coming-of-age movies Eddie would watch obsessively as a kid. There were university students strewn out on the lawn, making out and drinking carelessly. A strong pulsing bass came from the house, coursing through Eddie, Bill, and Mike’s bodies as they stood on the sidewalk.
“I-I hope one of these kids don’t f-fuck up my car,” Bill confessed.
“Kids?” Mike laughed, “you only graduated just last year, Big Bill.”
Ignoring their bickering, Eddie walked away from them towards the house. It was exactly everything Eddie hated about parties: smelly, loud, and a breeding ground for germs and STDs. Belatedly, he realized he must look out of place once again, as he was dressed like a ‘80s rich boy with his striped long sleeve polo and khakis.
Maybe tonight was going to turn out to be a John Hughes movie after all.
He uncomfortably wandered through the crowd of college students, looking for the boy with dark grey hair. Just as he was about to give up hope, he spotted Richie sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging and singing along to Guns and Roses, while a redheaded girl, the band’s drummer if Eddie can remember correctly, giggles at the motion of his long gangly limbs. Richie was wearing the same grey leather jacket and silver boots as last night, but he swapped the pink tank top for a Pink Floyd shirt.
Eddie smiles fondly to himself and approaches them. The girl instantly notices and tells Richie to turn around with a smug grin. Richie whips his head around and his eyes go wide whenever he spots Eddie standing there and giggling. First, he gives Eddie an obvious once-over, then he grins wide and motions Eddie to come over to them.
“Eds!” he exclaims. “The cutest boy in the Portland area! You’ve made it!”
“Don’t call me that,” Eddie says as Richie places his arm around his shoulder. “And, you must be blind if you think I’m the cutest boy of anything.”
“Well, Edmund,” Richie says in a posh British accent, “I am legally blind according to the state of Maine, so I have to wear these babies.” Then, he pulls his eyelid slightly down, pointing towards the obvious contact lenses in his eyes. “But, you don’t give yourself enough credit, Eddie.”
Meanwhile, the girl is still watching this exchange, smiling as if she knows something they don’t. She clears her throat to get Richie’s attention.
“Oh yeah!” Richie said, “This is our drummer, Beverly.”
“I’m Eddie,” he says in response, sticking his hand out.
She takes it. “I heard quite a bit about you in the van last night, Eddie. Oh, what were you saying again, Richie? ‘God, he’s so cute. I want to eat him up like a Twinkie. I would’ve paid five billion dollars to have him pin me to that sta-’”
Richie quickly interrupted her in a British accent, “whoa, Bevvie! You insult my fair lady’s honor!”
Beverly just shakes her head and takes a cigarette out of her pocket. “I’m going to leave you two lovebirds alone,” she said as she placed the cigarette in her mouth, lit it with a small flame at the end of her finger, and exited the kitchen.
“So, do you want a drink?” Richie asked, jumping off the counter.
“Yeah, but I probably shouldn’t drink too much tonight,” Eddie said, biting his lip.
Before Eddie could say what he wanted, Richie got two beers from the fridge. They were both the cheap brand that you could get a 6 pack of for 5 dollars. But, Eddie wasn’t about to complain. He was with Richie, so tonight was already a pretty good night.
Richie made what was considered a pretty bold move in Eddie’s book and grabbed his hand, leading him towards the living room where the stereo was. Everyone in the living was circled around one person, Bill, who was using his powers to make the keg float. People cheered and shouted as if it was one of the coolest things they’ve ever seen.
“Your friend seems pretty popular,” Richie leaned in and said to Eddie, matter-of-factly.
Eddie took a sobering sip of his beer as he leaned against the wall and watched big jock-like guys slap Bill on the back. It was high school all over again.
“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged. “Bill’s always had a pretty cool mutation.”
Glancing in his direction, Richie noticed how Eddie’s shoulders were slumped and his eyes were trained on the floor, silently nursing his beer.
“I bet you have a cool one too! Or, if you don’t have one, that’s also awesome! You don’t need to compare yourself to Bill,” Richie yelled over the loud music.
“Not really,” Eddie said quietly.
Richie encouragingly nudged him to share, because he genuinely thought Eddie didn’t need to be insecure.
“Ok, ok,” Eddie relented. “I’m a mind-reader. It’s nothing special, really.”
He lifted his head to look at Richie who looked positively lost for words.
“W-What?” Richie asked dumbly, growing hot in the face. “So, have you read my thoughts?”
A smirk grew on Eddie’s face as he watched Richie squirm under his gaze.
“Why Rich?” he asked in the best “sweet and innocent” voice he could muster. “Have you been thinking naughty thoughts about me?”
Eddie leaned into Richie playfully and got a good whiff of cheap cologne, feeling the heat in the pit of his belly when Richie unabashedly said “yes.”
Quickly, Richie’s eyes grew dark and hooded, as he kept glancing at Eddie’s lips without even trying to hide it. He leaned closer in, and Eddie didn’t feel the same courage coursing through his veins as last night. In the back of his head, he knew that if he started to kiss Richie, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Truthfully, he didn’t want this to be some one night stand, so he wouldn’t let it turn into one.
“Don’t worry,” Eddie whispered softly, aware of the little space between their lips, “I don’t read people’s minds without asking. It’s an invasion of their privacy.”
“You can invade my privacy any day, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said.
At this point, Eddie’s back was against the wall, while Richie leaned one arm against it. Before now, Eddie really never noticed the height difference between the two of them, but Richie simply towered over him, and Eddie could only stare at Richie with big brown eyes.
“What about you?” Eddie asked, awkwardly trying to change the subject, “What’s your mutation?”
Richie took the hint and backed away from Eddie, slightly disappointed. Little did he know, Eddie was also disappointed.
“I’m really fast,” Richie said proudly, taking a sip of his beer.
“What does that even mean?” Eddie sputtered.
“I could show you,” Richie drawled with a wicked grin.
But, it wasn’t an innuendo this time.
Richie actually grabbed Eddie’s hand and dragged him from the house. Once they got outside, Eddie felt the cold bite of the fall temperature, as he shivered slightly. Quickly, Richie took off his jacket and put it around Eddie’s shoulders, then hunched over.
“Get on,” Richie said impatiently.
Mentally, Eddie resented that he was small enough for Richie to give him a piggyback ride, but he didn’t voice it.
As soon as he was one, the world around him became a blur as he clutched on to Richie for dear life. And, in an instant, it was over. They were 5 blocks away from the house in front of an all-night convenience store. Eddie was ready to vomit all over the pavement while he dug around in his pocket for his inhaler. He took two quick inhalations, before turning around to glare at Richie.
“You could’ve got me killed!” he scolded, still trying to calm his insides.
“But I didn’t,” Richie pointed out, rubbing Eddie on the back as he worried his lip between his teeth.
Truthfully, he felt very guilty for making Eddie this uncomfortable and worried, but his mouth replied before he could stop it. Eddie looked at Richie’s face and took his earlier words to heart, reading Richie’s thoughts. His anger almost immediately dissipated.
“I know,” Eddie said calmly and quietly. “I’m not mad at you. It’s ok.”
“Are you sure?”
Richie didn’t make Eddie get on his back again, but instead went into the convenience store and bought him a ginger ale. They walked the whole five blocks back to the house party (with Richie’s hand on Eddie’s waist), bickering and arguing. When they got back, Bill and Mike were laying on the hood of Bill’s car, blanking staring up at the sky.
“E-Eddie,” Bill hiccuped and then slurred. “You’re clearly the most s-sober, so you are the d-designated driver.”
He lazily tossed his keys in Eddie’s direction, clearly not worried whether Eddie caught them or not. (He didn’t).
After Eddie fished Bill’s keys from the gravel, he turned to Richie, whose arm was still around his waist, and said goodnight.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Eddie spoke softly as if he’d ruin the moment if he spoke any louder. “I had a really fun time with you, Rich.”
“No problem,” Richie replied. “You’re still the cutest boy in Portland, Eddie Spaghetti.”
Before Eddie could scold him for using that nickname, Richie leaned down for a quick peck on the lips. The same kind of kiss you’d give when dropping off someone after a first date. Eddie met Richie’s eyes when he pulled away and saw nothing but pure adoration there.
After they broke away and Richie was walking back towards the house, Eddie noticed he was still wearing the leather jacket.
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.
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.
It had been a week since your chat with Kakashi and since then, you haven’t seen or heard any girl in his apartment. You were confused but also appreciative, finally getting your night sleep but what wondering what changed. So you left your work and stopped by a grocery store, picking up some necessities. You lugged the multiple bags up the stairs and to your apartment, fumbling to look for your house keys.
To your luck, Kakashi had seen you struggling and walked over to you. “Need any help? You look like you’re struggling.” He asked and you looked over at him. “Well since you offered.” You smile, handing him a bag and using your free hand to unlock your door. Kakashi followed you into your apartment, placing your grocery bag on your kitchen counter. Kakashi watched as you grabbed a treat and fed it to your dog, a smile on Kakashi’s face as you gave the small dog affection.
“Thank you Kakashi for helping me.” You say, giving him a smile. “You’re welcome, and now that I realize it, I haven’t gotten your name. You know mines, how is that fair?” He speaks. “Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n.” You reply. ‘Y/N.’ Kakashi thinks. “Y/N. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Kakashi says aloud, a blush rushing to your cheeks. “Calm down, I’m still not interested.” You reply, which was a lie. Kakashi was attractive and nice, how could you not be interested. On the downside, you had first spoke to him to complain about him having sex to loud and often, he was a player.
Kakashi felt a little hurt by your words but he didn’t let show. “I have to get going. It was nice seeing you Y/N.” And with that Kakashi left and went to his apartment. As he laid down at his bed and read his Icha Icha book, he thought to himself different ways to try and win over Y/n.
The next time Kakashi spoke to you, he was waiting for you outside your apartment, unfortunately he was drunk. “Hey Y/n!” He shouted, and you noticed he reeked of alcohol. “Kakashi are you okay? C’mon, come inside.” You said while unlocking your door, and bringing him inside. “My name sounds so nice when you say it.” He slurred, sitting down on your couch. You feel your cheeks start to redden but you brush it off. “You need to drink water.” You say, walking towards your kitchen and getting a glass of water and bringing it to Kakashi.
He takes the cup from you and drinks, setting down the half empty glass on your coffee table. “I’m not drunk, I’m just intoxicated by you.” Kakashi spoke and you playfully rolled your eyes. “Stop it Kakashi, you need to rest.” You said, getting up to get a pillow and blanket for him. “I don’t have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?” You heard Kakashi say, and you let out a soft laugh. As you brought a pillow and blanket to the silver haired man, you heard him once more. “Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.”
“If you use another pick-up line like that on me again I might punch you in the gut.” You joke, Kakashi laughing as he got comfortable on your couch. You went to change into an oversized shirt and underwear. You went to check up on Kakashi and you saw he was nearly asleep. “Y/n! You’re back!” You walk over and kneeled in front of him, making you face to face. “Get some rest Kakashi. Night.” Soon enough he was fast asleep and you went to your room and fell asleep as well.
Kakashi woke up the next morning with a raging headache. “Fuck.” He muttered to himself, taking in his surroundings. He recognized it as your apartment and he smiled to himself, noticing it smelled like you. In front of him was a new glass of water and a couple of aspirins. Some parts of the previous night came to Kakashi and he felt himself start to blush, how you took care of him and your kindness.
Taking the aspirin, Kakashi got up and put his empty glass in your sink. He then folded the blanket he used and placed the pillow on top of it, leaving it on your couch. Kakashi made his way back to his apartment changing into a new pair of clothing and made his way to the closest grocery store.
You left work way earlier than usual, claiming that you didn’t feel well, which was a lie, good thing it was Friday. But you made your way back home, not seeing Kakashi near by. You were on your couch, watching Netflix with your dog sitting in your lap. Your attention broke away from the tv, hearing a knock on your door. You moved your dog, and got up to answer the door. You opened the door to see a flustered and nervous Kakashi, who was holding a bouquet of flowers. “Hey Y/n.” He smiled.
Your cheeks start to redden by the gesture, “hey Kakashi, whats this for?” You ask. “Well, I’d like to thank you for taking care of me. So in return, would you go on a date with me?” You were taken aback by his words. “C’mon give me a chance y/l/n.” You were mostly surprised by the fact that Kakashi liked you. “I’d love to go on a date with you. But you better not tell me anymore cheesy pickup lines.” You smile. “Deal.” Kakashi smiled, handing you the bouquet of flowers. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7.” Kakashi said before grinning and leaving to go back home.
You close your door and sliding down it and sitting on the ground. You were flustered mess and Kakashi was the cause of it. You could hear a faint ‘YES!’ coming from Kakashi’s apartment and you laugh. God he was gonna be the death of you.
i hope this wasn’t too bad but i loved this and i got way too into it. as always feedback is appreciated!
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.
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.”
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.
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
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
“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.
*SEND REQUESTS* 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:
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.”
a/n: Y’all I haven’t written in 10,000 years but I really dig the insanely cool Jared Kleinman and I just felt The Need™ to write smth so here goes adkjfkaj (sorry it’s kinda cliche and poorly written lmao)
Don’t Tell Jared - Jared Kleinman x Reader
Jared Kleinman didn’t like to deal with his emotions. He pushed them down and said he’d deal with them later, though usually later never came. That’s just how he learned how to deal with things he was scared of.
You guys met in freshman year, at orientation. Ever since then you’ve been inseparable. One day, in sophomore year, when you guys were just playing video games and cracking jokes something happened. You laughed extra hard at some dumb joke he made when bam. That’s when he felt it. An emotion he wasn’t used to. So, he did what he always does, pushed it down and said he’d deal with it “later”.
Jared Kleinman, no matter how much he’d deny it, loved you.