#*holding my heart in his hand* if i squeeze like this i can wring every single emotion you've ever experienced out of you all at once

[abrahamvanhelsings]

the hitch in van helsing's words when he says "i beseech you" im going to cry for real this time. it's not even simply that he knows how important it is that he gets arthur to trust him, that he's conscious of their duty to all living souls and lucy herself to do this to her and how difficult this will be physically and emotionally. it's that arthur now distrusts him, cries at him in anger - arthur, the man who looks like his lost son and whom he loves because of it. the man whose love and respect he may now never get back after suggesting mutilating lucy's corpse. he isn't just desperate for all the men in that room to trust him so they can give lucy peace and keep the living safe. that's the sacrifice of his father's heart splitting in two right there. wtf alan burgon.

[cu7ie]

souya smiles.

⠀⠀⠀  ˊᯅˋ   does he know that my destiny lies with him?

cw; large insertions + extra prep, sexual exhaustion, reader w/vag + no pronouns. lovey dovey shit they like eachother what do u want from me.

The only time Souya can stand to have a smile on his lips is when his hands are on your hips and he's lowering you onto his cock. 

And even then, the expression is gradual, as your pussy opens so nicely for him, squeezing down on his sensitive flesh. His hand feels along your stomach for the bump his dick leaves behind as he makes a few tentative thrusts, making you whine atop him. He's not one for teasing, but you're so easy to fluster,

Easy to get a reaction out of.

"Souya - don't go so slow. You're t e a s i n g me." The word lingers on your lips, your lower lip trembling like you're gonna try to convince him with those crocodile tears that you can handle him going any faster than this. You two don't usually have sex for long - you can talk the talk but you can't walk the walk, (Souya fucks you like a man possessed, like he might lose a part of himself if he can't wring an orgasm out of you,) and more often than not, Souya's raring to go long after you've tapped out.

"You say the same thing every time. And then when I really put my all in it, you start whining, —"

"No I do not!"

Souya's voice goes up in pitch, mocking you.

 " 'It feels like you're tearing me apart, Souya,' " Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you recall that moment with striking clarity, slapping him sharplu on his chest.

 “Hey, fuck you! I only said that one time!” You’re surprised he even remembered at all.

       ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꈍᴗꈍ  

You guys saw each other less after he launched his restaurant abroad. You stayed in and out of touch, remained dedicated to your studies while supporting Souya's dream overseas. 

One day, he came back to Japan on a surprise visit.

Riding your bike back home from your job, you nearly crash into him with it. You're so excited to see him that you start flapping your hands and stuttering and have a little trouble looking him in the eye still,

  But you're just like how he remembers you. Perfect and a little awkward and your hands still shake a little just like they did in mid school,

And the look in your eyes is all consuming, adoring, affectionate. His stomach flutters and the corners of his lips twitch, his face resembling a deer caught in headlights as you toss your bike aside and wriggle your smaller arms under his and hug his torso for all you’re worth. His afro has been pulled back into the cutest little ponytail, but you have to admit there’s something about seeing the stark blue mass of curls that makes you want to twirl your hair and drag your feet. He’s still as handsome as you remembered, though. Still frowning so grumpily.

"Souya! It's .. it's been so long." You're small in his arms, the tender embrace lasting for a bit too long because you’re trying to fit all the love you can muster in it, 

And really he’s just tired from the flight, so while you’re verbally fantasizing about all these plans, fun things for you two to get up to while he’s here, he’s remembering how soft your mattress used to be, the smell of you on the pillows…

His mind flashes in and out of the memories of the little things. Your eyes crinkling in the corners when you’re giving him your real deal smiles, how you squeeze his hand in yours just to remember ‘what he feels like’.  Feeling a little bad he’s been gone for so long. But you make his heart feel like it never left. 

You walk him up to your apartment, chatting calmly and holding his pinky in yours and by the time he’s actually in your house, you’re pulling him to your bedroom and 

Help him take his clothes off. Maybe he’s more jetlagged than he thought, because he’s just admiring the peace in your expression as you help him with something he ought to do himself. But you’re so eager to see him in a way that feels wholly unexpected. Then again, it’s you. As long as he can remember, you’ve always been happy to see him. You take off his stuffy button up and toss him a shirt he hasn’t seen in years.

It's a band tee that has a faded graphic of the Deftones on it. Despite it looking well loved, there's lint and some dust he has to shake off of it.

“I.. wore this in back in highschool. ” “M’yeah, you left it here way back. I was.. Holding onto it. For you.” You smile so cutely he doesn’t even care if that's not true. He slips it over his head and falls back onto the pillow, you worm your way into his arms and let him hold you. Feel you for the first time in years.

And he doesn’t like feeling like a pervert, but,

How can you blame him? You look at him so dreamily, on the verge of a good nap, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes so you can commit this image of him to memory (as if he'd risk disappearing on your again).He can feel you staring at him, feels you crawling further along his chest, and his hand naturally falls to your back, slides down along your spine..

And he can feel himself grow hard as he feels your nipples, solid as diamond, poke at him from under your thin lounge shirt.

“.. souya.” He cracks his eyelids open, just enough to see you pressing up against his chest, your skin softer than his; warm and inviting.

“..can I kiss you?” He doesn’t even stop to think about it; not a word is uttered in that moment, he cups his hands and hoists you up so you’re properly laying atop him. He was dreaming of sheep not even a second ago, but now your perky little butt is rubbing against his hard cock, the kisses you pepper onto his face pulling him in deeper, and deeper,

He just wanted to take a nap. You do a good job at convincing him otherwise.

Newfound energy surges into him as you gyrate your hips just so, his clothed cock sliding along the fat plush of your ass, and he knows you know what you’re doing, eyes feigning innocence as your hands rub down his musculature, the contours of his stomach; you’re filled with so much raw affection that you suddenly become wild in your movement, something he hasn’t seen in a while taking you over. Your breathing is hot and heavy; his as well, and as you part yourself from the final kiss, a  thin strand of saliva connecting your lips with him, you bury your nose into the crook of his neck.

Souya is blazing hot now. You don’t move from that position and he physically can’t handle the way you rile him up, his fingers twitching and his knee jumping and he just has to touch you, hands brazenly gripping the weight of your ass and the curve of your hip; you groan into the flesh on his neck, your hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders with a profound eagerness. You’ve gotten him flustered, and he’s trying to pull your sleep shorts off your butt with this look on his face like he might cry if he can’t get his cookie, his breathing uneven in your ear.

“I missed you so much.” “.. missed you too.” You rescind from his neck and allow the softness of his face to fall into your palms, your heart bumping in your chest loud enough for you to hear. “Mh. I wanna fuck you. So bad,” You grind your hips into his and he groans at you, his skin flushing red as he pokes a finger beneath the elastic of your underwear. 

“Then help me get these shorts off. I really don’t want to tear them, they’re cute on you.” You’re smiling because you know Souya isn’t one for jokes, raising your ass with a shake of your hips, leaning forward into a kiss as you slide your shorts down to your knees, wriggling them down your leg and kicking them off to the side.

“How long has it been since you’ve been in Japan, Souya?” You say as you pull away from the kiss; making Souya cock his head and whine a little. He starts making hickies along your collarbone, answering in between sucks and breaths.

“ A year .. n’ maybe four months.” He rumbles low in his throat as his balls seize up, the anticipation of sex making him moody and a little impatient. He grabs your wrists and flips you over on the bed, earning a cute giggle and gasp as he hooks his hands around the back of your knees, hoisting your hips up into the air with newfound vigor and ease,

Slow-cooking in your scent, inundating himself in your heat, your wet cunt is gushing; a sopping spot on your underwear as he tugs it off with his teeth. “Someone’s really eager.” You try not to let your voice waver, but he sees through your facade; nibbles on your thigh just to hear you moan, trying to correct your mistake by clapping your hand over your mouth softly.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you moan for me.” He pushes your thighs apart until he can see your quivering folds and puffy little clit; burying his head into your muff without waiting for a reply. His tongue is hot and quick and knows you so well. It travels up your labia with long unabashed licks, reaching your clit; then he doubles down, suckling on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your pussy is soaked and it never did take you too long to cum when he goes down on you, your hands gripping the streets for purchase as you groan out his name.

“Sou…ya, Oh fuck - Souya. Souya!” 

His name falls from your lips like a chant as he angles your legs higher to get deeper into your snatch, his grip wrought iron and his desire evident. You’ve covered his nose, lips and chin in your wetness, the bashful yet cheeky grin you fix him with making his heart flutter like nothing else. In an instant he’s possessed by this intensity and fervor, forcing your knees further up and to your chest with one hand and trying to fix his dick out of his sweats with the other; but you frantically wave your hands then, dragging him out his pussy drunk stupor. 

“Y’gotta.. gotta use your fingers first.” You pant, air having left your lungs. You wipe the sweat from your forehead (sweating already, it really has been a while, huh?) feeling a bit sheepish having to explain. “I won’t be able to take it if you don’t stretch me out first, it’s been .. wayyy too long ..” Souya snorts as you spread your folded legs, plunging in a finger without ceremony and feeling a little surprised when he hears you squeak. You seem embarrassed but amused by yourself, looking directly at the place where his finger dips into your warm core and your toes curling at the sound of the squelch.

“..you’re too cute.” Souya doesn’t have the thickest fingers, so one in and out works well for you. He gets to two and he hears you mewl, your tiny pussy still soaked but taking him in with less ease than before. Your walls clamp down around his digits like you plan to trap him there. You’re breathing hard and your fingers frustratedly grasp air and squeeze wind, this profound heat in your body,

Cooking you slowly from the inside, his fingers move faster and you’re whining and moaning, little “Ah, ah, ah’s!” as Souya pumps in with reckless abandon. You’re trying not to cum again, but you really can’t help it, your moans crescendoing, your chest rising and falling in time with each pump; then he adds another finger. Your back arches and you rise off the bed as you squirt around his fingers, (you got some onto his forearm, makes his eyebrows shoot up.) And you look so peaceful on the pillows, tuckered out already apparently. Souya gripes, and your lidded eyes flutter open. He shakes your knees and your legs fall open without resistance, your hands gripped by the wrists and pinned above your head as his other hand works even faster to whip his dick out; his tip drooling and sticky with precum as the head of his cock kisses the lips of your pussy. His shoulders shudder as his breathing becomes heavy, his hard gaze harrowing in on you as he speaks slowly, pressure building as the tip of him pushes in. “I don’t want to break you.” His lower lip trembles, the gentle sincerity in his voice understudied by a certain kind of grit, rough like sandpaper. His eyes narrow at you, the grip around your wrist tightening. “But I think I will.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry,” His hips are moving forward, and the girth of his cock (stretches you out just like how you remembered) making your eyes cross and your lips part in silence. “But I .. really don’t like lying to you.” He pushes in and the stretch stings in a sinfully good way; your pretty little pussy getting split open by thick pipe; Souya’s balls slapping gently against your ass as he eases into you at a regular pace.

“I - I swear, you’re gonna tear me apart with that fuuuh-cking thing.” Your thighs quiver and your voice feels unsure.

"One.. of these days … oooh fuck."

It still feels too fast. You clamp around his dick like you’re the one trying to break him; your arms wriggling as you tug on them, trying to dislodge them from beneath Souya’s hands. He has a look of utter bliss overlaid onto his usually frowny expression. His eyes flutter closed, savoring the feeling of your wet walls slicking up his cock, 

while you’re cursing, blood rushing to your cheeks as your leg shake and your skin is alight,

“Holy - fuck! Fuck! F-fuck you, Souya; jesus fucking christ-”  Souya looks amused by you, his polite smile looking down right dastardly. 

“Don’t look at me like that, asshole!” You whine, but don’t put up a real fight. Your moans escape your body in time with his thrusts and it feels really embarrassing. You feel like you sound like a whore, moaning his name to the sky; forgetting the whole world behind you. You'll be surprised if you go out and the neighbor's aren't looking at you funny. Souya is electric, like a nasty jolt that sends a shock of pleasure and pain so deep into you that it transcends touch and does something to your brain itself. 

You’re drooling on your favorite pillow and squealing and whining and (begging for it begging faster faster, when you know you can’t handle it) overwhelming sensations have taken you over completely. Your heels dig into Souya’s back and he feels encouraged to thrust even harder, lean forward and slobber all over the fat of your chest trying to get one of those beady nipples into his mouth.

Souya’s cock is a bully, pounding your sweet cunt into utter submission when your body can do nothing else but twitch and listen to the sound of sloppy sex, hands grabbing at air as he keeps your arms up and out of the way. He looks overcome too, a haze blanketing over him as he fucks you so good the tip of his dick kisses your cervix and all you can see is stars, 

And then that coiling spring inside your guts releases all its tension as you utterly cream yourself on his dick. But he’s still going. Still fascinated by how tiny you feel compared to him, this dominance he’s exercising over you, a cock drunk little fairy, taking a primal pleasure in how fucked out your face looks. 

(He can even see the little bump on your tummy where his cock is. Rubbing his hand over it makes you whimper, but maybe you’re just feeling a little sensitive,) though you’re still soaking wet, it’s clear you’re on your last leg. You're crying from ecstasy, your cunt unwilling to be stretched so far; you’re much tighter than you were before on account of your exhaustion alone. “Souya-” You attempt a whine before you’re silenced with a kiss. You can feel him smiling against your bottom lip, giving another - harder - thrust- 

Then,

His hips stutter. He feels his balls tighten and it’s only then his hands drop to your hips to pull you as far onto his cock as he can. It’s like you’re boneless in his arms, your skin all tingly and raw and,

He’s fucking his load into you. Your hands clutch onto his shoulders to prevent your skull from slamming against the headboard, feeling him feel you up, up, and up. 

"love you.. really love you.."

There’s so much that it spills onto your sheets. 

You feel so full that you can’t stop babbling, gasping and your thighs are shaking, stilled only when Souya gently pulls your legs apart and slides his cock out of you, leaving you full of cum; yet devastatingly empty.

When Souya sighs, you can feel the stress leave him, the frenzied ogre is no more, and he collapses beside you; just as sweet as he came. He seems a little apologetic, a little bashful as he tucks his arms around your waist and tugs you toward him.

“I really did miss you.” Your head is still floaty, but you’ve your wits about you enough to mutter,

“I noticed.”

[bcyhoods]

LOVEFOOL 💌 — “you feel like home to me” with tasm!peter PUH-LEASE I ALREADY KNOW IM GONNA GET EMOTIONAL

muah ha ha. angsty spidey is my favorite spidey, how did you know | 0.9k

warnings: injuries, brief mention of reader being used as leverage but no explicit/graphic detail

“I don’t know if I can do this, Peter.”

Your hand hovers over the scrape on his cheek when your gaze drops to the mask that’s clenched in his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed, looking up at you as you stand in between his legs.

He’s bathed in the dull, orange glow of your lamp. It highlights every welt, every cut, every matted strand of hair that sticks to the damp skin of his forehead. It makes your eyes sting.

“What do you mean? You’re a natural,” he says. His hand settles on your hip to give it a gentle squeeze. The gesture makes you believe for a second that he’s genuinely clueless.

But his eyes refuse to meet yours. The smile that he wears is uneasy as he wrings his mask.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He hangs his head low. Guilt tightens its grip on his throat making it hard to breathe.

You were already well aware of his secret identity before you’d started dating. He warned you of the risks and used them to try scaring you away before you could break his heart. But you stayed. You stayed and, god, he was so glad you did.

Though, he blames his adoration for what happened to you.

He would keep a close eye on you to make sure you were safe. His routine neighborhood watch would consist of making sure you got to and from work safely, occasionally dropping by on your lunch breaks to check on you. He was careless, but he didn’t anticipate things would go south so quickly.

The guy wasn’t a super villain, nor was he anything special by any means, but he was observant. And why would Spiderman be visiting some random bodega cashier so often unless you meant something to him?

It was practically over as quick as it started. The guy couldn’t even finish demanding his ransom before Peter had arrived to web him to the ceiling. You escaped with a few injuries, the worst being a palm-shaped bruise on your wrist. But Peter was fuming.

You were used as bait. You were leverage against Spiderman because he’d been so reckless. You got hurt because of him. You were lucky this time, but there was no telling if that luck would run out and the thought terrified him. Despite your gentle words of reassurance, he had made up his mind.

He would never forgive himself if he lost you. So he broke it off.

“I know.”

It would’ve been easier if you didn’t see each other after that. You think you’d feel differently if you weren’t frequently in his presence, nursing him back to health. Maybe if you didn’t exchange longing gazes and soft touches that were reserved for people that are more than friends. If he didn’t look at you like you held his heart in your hands, maybe you’d be stronger.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” He feels his chest tighten at the crack in your voice, even more so when you push his hand away.

“You leave your window open,” he whispers.

A scoff falls from your lips and you turn your back to him to wipe away the rogue tears that run down your face. He stares at your figure with a frown and hands that ache to reach out for you.

Peter Parker then decides he doesn’t want to be a hero. Heroes can’t afford to be selfish and put their own happiness above the wellbeing of others. Being with you would jeopardize your safety. It’d be selfish of him. He could never be with you like he wanted, craved, so long as he wore that suit. Can’t he have both?

He’s exhibited enough altruism to last him a lifetime, anyway. Certainly it was enough to hold you just for one night.

“I just needed to see you,” he sighs, voice meek.

“Peter, I think you should—”

“There’s never a day that I don’t think about you,” he interjects. He doesn’t exactly know when he started to cry. Suddenly his eyesight was blurry and he couldn’t breathe through his nose.

“Please.” The word pushes out like a sob. Your hand shoots to clamp over your mouth to hush the whimpers, but he can hear them.

“I’m serious, I…” He stands and moves to put his hands on your shoulders. His mask is forgotten on the floor. “Being away from you, it makes me feel crazy. Like I can’t breathe.”

“Don’t say that.” You turn in his hold to shrug his hands off, but you don’t try too hard. A sob racks through your chest once more when you see his pained expression. His nose is red and his cheeks are wet and his brows are sewed together. “Don’t tell me that, just go home,” you plead.

“You feel like home to me!” There’s a humorless laugh that accompanies the confession, it’s one of frustration. But the softness in his glassy eyes is unmistakable and it makes you melt under his stare.

“Please don’t cry,” he begs with a deep frown. He reaches to hold your face in his hands as he wipes the tears from under your eyes. The material of his gloves is rough and pulls at your skin uncomfortably, but you can’t help leaning into his touch.

He crowds your being. He towers over you so closely that you can feel his bated breath fanning your skin. You reach to hold onto his forearms, letting your eyes close to revel in the closeness. Peter presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, then to each of your cheeks, then your nose. He stops short of your lips.

“Say the word and I’ll leave. You know I will.”

“Don’t go,” you concede.

You’re not really sure what repercussions this will have tomorrow morning. You can’t really bring yourself to care when he kisses you.

[shotmrmiller]

hi this is a really weird request but can you do a Drabble of like Simon going to planned parenthood with his situationship because she’s getting an abortion and she will need the comfort?? I’m not trying to be weird and just that when I got one my situationship told me he “didn’t want to go because he has to go to gym” 🤣

OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!

I would SKIN HIM!!'

I AM SO SORRY! He seriously make me sick to my stomach, i would

i would tear his little pride into pieces. going to the gym and for what? ego lift? spaghetti arms lifting weight too heavy for how weak they are? flat chest? small, ILS having back? legs so puny, wind would lead you astray? every day is chest day head ass yet somehow the chest is still missing? i have so many wild, angry thoughts i'm seriously fuming.

fucking hell.

Simon is with you when you take the test, and it's positive. He holds your hand while your emotions swirl in your head, your chest, your heart. He is a firm, FIRM believer in your body your choice. Whatever he might think doesn't matter because the one who's gotta stretch and grown a potential babe is you, not him. He suffers no consequences.

So he calmly asks you what is it that you want to do.

Maybe you take some time to think, maybe the answer is very obvious.

When you make the choice, he supports you 100% percent. There is no guilt tripping, no lamenting or anything. If you are not ready then you are not ready, if ever.

He's with you every step of the way, from the phone call to the appointment.

(forgive my ignorance i only know of the pill, so imma use that)

the pill goes down easily at home, the cold water you drank it with feels warm on your tongue. it takes a little, until the cramps start. Small twinges in your lower belly until they start to up in intensity. Something is twisting your insides with their hands, like someone would wring out a towel to hang on a rope outside.

it fucking hurts, it's a searing burn, stabbing in your uterus. Whether you prefer to sit on the toilet or curl up in the bathtub, Simon's there. He's rubbing your back, squeezing your arms and hands.

He's grounding, and he wishes to be the one in pain, not you. He'd take it all, if he could.

Blood flows down the drain, slow and steady, alongside some clots here and there.

He keeps his eyes on your face, watching it contort as pain takes hold.

Simon's a silent, comforting presence.

When the worst has passed, when your skin prunes and the sharp gasps of agony turn into small whimpers, he wraps a towel around you and takes you to bed. His hand is warm under your navel, where it rests in hopes of acting like those warming pads you wear during your menses.

He stays awake that night, watching you finally get some rest, his head lifting from the pillow whenever your brows furrow, a grimace on your lips.

[bibblelevi]

So I just randomly logged into this account and read through my drafts. I always had something on my mind and this was something to do with a fantasy au fic that will never happen. But I wrote this like 10 months ago probably?

tw: talks of old scars, blood and gore, cleaning wounds, angst

Your gaze simmers on his body from the bathroom’s doorway, all of the harsh, jutting lines, the smooth peaks of his hipbones, and the curves of his arms. Without the leathers and clothing, Levi’s much lither than he appears. It doesn’t matter, either way. He’s utterly beautiful.

But the wounds on his back. The long gashes of red, now brown and crusted from never being treated. Your throat squeezes are your heart, uneasiness sweeping through your posture. His reflection moves in the mirror, pale and marred features squinted in concentration, and as he reaches behind himself to clean the wound, his chapped mouth wobbles. He winces. He hurts.

It’s fucking devastating. You had seen those scars on his back before, and seeing them open again, bleeding again. You don’t deserve to see inside him like this, but you’re drawn to it. You want to crawl into him through the gashes and seal yourself over every inch, a protective armor clad on his most intimate and vulnerable parts. It wouldn’t matter how much someone beat, struck, or hurt, because you would be there, inside, to take the brunt of every hit. A distant vibration of the heart.

He struggles to reach the places, and eventually gives him, shoulders heaving.

“Let me,” you say.

It’s apparent he hadn’t noticed your presence, because his head whips in your direction. The stiffness in his features tenderizes.

“All right,” he says back.

You approach and dip your hand into the bucket, retrieving the cloth and squeezes out the excess water. Levi turns so his back is facing you, the only hint of his face being the sharp curve of his jaw. You brace him and yourself by placing your other hand on his arm.

Carefully, you press the cloth to his back. He hisses through his teeth and clams up, shoulders raising, hand jilting forward on instant to remove the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ll try to be more gentle,” but you don’t know how you can be more gentle than this.

“It’s fine.”

Your fingers leave indents on his arm, which you like more than you can bear to admit. You clean the raw, blotchy skin with a slow, blotting method, and you clean until the cloth is soaked red with him.

Rinse and repeat.

When you wring out the cloth, the water turns pink, and you stare at it, and you don’t know why that’s what finally breaks you. Your eyes swell with tears that can’t possibly burn the same as his wounds—wounds that you couldn’t prevent. It’s not a matter of being useless, or being a burden. It’s a matter of resolving yourself to your inhibitions, knowing that there really was nothing you could do, and that this would have happened regardless. Most people would find that a comfort. That you couldn’t change the inevitable. It was always going to happen this way. Levi was always going to be abused. He was always going to bleed, and hurt. And you hate it. You hate it more than you hate Zeke.

Your hand trembles, so you squeeze his arm tighter, and you duck your head. The tears drip from your eyes, the salt landing on your lips. The rag once again turns red. Rinse and repeat, and the water is now brown instead of pink.

The third time you take the rag to his back, there’s snot rolling down your Cupid’s bow. It burns your upper lip, turns it puffy. But you don’t sniffle, because if you do, he will know, so you hold your breath and you don’t hiccup and you keep your head down.

His back is not better, but it’s cleaner. The blood is now a paint-like smear on a blank canvas, the lashes like pencil marks on the skin. You continue down his body, as far down as his waistband allows. You don’t dare risking opening your mouth, cowering like an animal afraid to reveal it’s been backed into a corner, so you hook your finger and glance up to see if he doesn’t want you to go any further. He doesn’t object. He remains still, head tipped low.

You go to rinse the rag and repeat the process for the fourth time.

And as the cloth touches his skin, your body wracks with the sob you’ve been holding in since the first rinse.

You heave, and shove your face into a patch of untouched skin, and you cry all over him, desperately holding onto his elbow. You can’t fucking take it, so you weep like a child, and he lets you like a mother.

He looks down where your hand gripping the filthy cloth hovers beside your flush bodies and guides it around him until you’re clinging to him. He feels like someone who finally belongs to someone, being held like this. Even as your tears drip down his back, flaying him, and your sobs drill through his flesh into his bones, he knows he has someone to come home to.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, gasping for air. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re so hurt.”

He closes his eyes. “No.” His hand slides over your forearm pressed to his stomach. “Don’t be sorry. Not for this.”

“If you didn’t know me, you’d be okay.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be doing fuck all with my life. You gave me something to fight for. So don’t ever say you’re sorry, because I’m not.”

[romanoffsbish]

A Chance Encounter: So This is Love?

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Unwanted Attention (Previous)

Warnings: Drunk/Mean Ex(Past);Cheating, Grief(As always), Jealousy(Toddler), Letting Go(Is Hard), Death!!(Flashback)

Smut: Thigh Riding (R), Oral (R), Double-Sided (cum-filled) Strap (R/S), Face Riding (S), Daddy (S)/Good Girl (R), Breeding, Choking, Praising, Light Degrading.

18+ | Minors DNI ‼️

———————————————————

Scarlett waves her hand in front of their face, Jess just stares back at her with a melancholy expression on their face, because they know their hearts answer would change nothing, because they know your heart now resides in totality with the actress, but it doesn't change the broken feeling as they sink into the chair. Your shared life flashes before their eyes as they momentarily squeeze their eyes shut; a mix of their highest highs, and lowest lows.

—————

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

Jess was very nervous, palms sweating, hands wringing, and heart skipping a beat level of nervous as they waited for you to finally come out of the bathroom. The moment you opened the door it was as if all the air in their lungs was gone once they took in your current look.

You had settled on a low cut white polo shirt, tucked into a short, deliciously form fitting red skirt, with a long black cardigan with pockets to hold all of your things thrown over it. Every simple piece served a purpose, and it was working to catch the eye of your lover. Your knowing giggle however awakened them from their stupor, meeting your smirk with a goofy smile of their own, and a hopeful hand extended out your way.

Jess sighs as they pull you flush against them, "You look beautiful honey...," lips gently land atop of yours, and you instantly melt against your partner, hands gripping the collar of their shirt to keep them put. They smirk into the kiss at your seductive prowess, and if not for their plans they'd have allowed themselves to fall into you, but they pull back to get a glimpse into your eyes, taking note of your blown out pupils, and chuckling at the state they've put you in.

Their previous nerves for what's to come had all but faded, and the velvet box no longer felt like it was burning a hole through their suit. They dragged your confused form out of the front door, and through the town on the most romantic walk down memory lane, and so when they brought you back to NYU, where it all began—you knew what was coming, and you were quick to say yes.

——

Jess was in the middle of a business meeting when they got the call, "Honey, I'll get to the hospital in no time, promise," they shouted across the line while fumbling around their office so could change into their emergency set of street clothes.

Within a matter of thirty minutes they're frantically running into the hospital where they're immediately whisked away to your room, a familiar nurse passing them a cup of ice chips with a playful wink before shoving them into your door and literally running off. Jess rushes into the room, "Y/N, baby, I'm here, I made it!," their hands going to cup your cheeks.

"No, don't you dare touch me you vile demon! Find nurse Helen, and get me my ice chips!"

Jess's eyes widened at your sudden outburst, their beautiful, sweet as can be wife is angry, and it took everything in them not to laugh. Never in their wildest dreams did they ever think you'd be able to run off your equally as sweet hospital staff, but just like you always do, you continue to shock them.

Cautiously they raise the glass, then with a plastic spoon they shovel a few melting slivers into your parched mouth, thumping heart settling at the pleased sigh you release.

"Better?"

Your closed eyes shoot open, fixing your truly terrifying glare upon your spouse, and you find yourself enjoying the way they squirm.

"I'll be better when your son makes his exit, and stops using my insides as a fucking punching bag, little shit takes after you."

Jess flushes at your dirty innuendo, "Oh baby, our precious boy means you no harm, also you never really seem to complain in the moment with me so pipe down and stop scaring off the staff, because I know nothing about the birth process to help you, and also because you're turning me on."

As you roll your eyes at them, a rather snarky comment on the tip of your tongue you are interrupted as a new wave of contractions hit.

"Fuck! Quick! Tell them I want the drugs!"

"But, you told me no drugs, that no matter how much you beg—."

...

"Okay! I'm going!"

After the epidural the process is a lot calmer, your nurses weren't hiding, and for the most part you're in and out of a napping state up until you're ready to push the little sucker out.

"Baby, it's time..."

"You do it..."

Jess chuckles, "Honey, that's impossible, you need to push now, he's ready.," their fingers delicately move across your face, pushing the hair from your sticky forehead, and admiring the entirety of your combined features, praying that Josh comes out with even just an ounce of your never ending well of beauty.

The pressure on their hand brings them back, and their attention becomes laser focused on your pained face, then to the end of the bed, the anticipation bubbling from within them almost painful. Then after a long hours wait the hearty laughter they release at the sounds of your son's wailing spurs on the floodgates for you. Jess was beyond preoccupied with cutting the cord to see the mess that had become of you; granted they were not fairing much better when they were met with the raw, incomprehensible feelings seeing your son for the first time ignited.

The tiny baby was haphazardly wiped down, then placed into a loose fitting blanket before being passed to Jess who immediately brought him up to you for the necessary introduction.

You sob once he's settled on your chest, "Mama's perfect little baby boy...," the intense feeling of your heart cracking right open is almost enough to send you into hysterics, but you'd hate to disturb the peaceful baby.

"Joshua..."

Your eyes shine with another set of tears, the name of your choosing winning out, and you sigh in relief that Jess's top choice of Hunter was long forgotten.

"Joshua Ryan Y/L/N-Valdez." You add, finishing out the process with a peck to his nose, then watching as the hospital personnel whisk him away for all his needs.

Jess watches as you sleep, heart brimming with gratitude for your bodies sacrifice, "You did good honey, you're just so perfect...," eyes then falling to the sleeping infant.

"He's perfect..."

"Yeah, he is..." They concur, leaning into the bassinet, and lifting him up to allow your awakened form the skin-to-skin you had adamantly requested take place, placing a tender kiss to your lips, then his forehead, they lean back and watch you take to motherhood so naturally, and they just pray parenthood is as easy for them.

——

Jess came barreling into the ER with suitcases in hand, having only just landed from their emergent flight home. They'd been on a work retreat with their entire team, a trust building exercise, all irrelevant now though that they received your many calls, and eventually listened to your set of panicked voicemails.

"My son's been in an accident—Joshua Valdez! I'm Jess Valdez, my wife Y/N should already be here, please, can you take me to them?"

The front desk nurses face is a bit too expressive for their liking, wearing the sympathetic sadness on her face as she calls security over to escort them to pediatric unit. Jess enters the room, it's dark as it's after ten; soft snores alert them to the cot which Angie's lying on, tiny hand holding onto her brothers, and from there Jess's eyes travel up the arm to see the blank expression on your son's face.

It was hard to understand you, but it was a long flight so they just listened to your shaky voice repeatedly telling them what happened. Josh was playing softball at school for that day's PE activity. A group of seven year olds were on a field, a handful of them practicing with the bats in their groups, and your son was running around like the carefree boy that he was when a little girl practiced her swing.

The metal bat—that they still can't understand why they were using—made contact with the side of Joshua's head which would explain the bruise now taking over the side of his face. Your son's slender body spun around before he fell on his back, according to the teachers he was hyperventilating, screaming out your titles interchangeably with his eyes frozen open. His shouts had apparently faded into incoherent slurs right before he lost his last grasp to consciousness on the gurney.

Epidural Hematoma, that's all you said, the calls stopped after that, and Jess was left in the dark for almost the entire flight home.

Jess's trance is broken away from his face when the bathroom door opens, a dim light illuminating your defeated face, and it's then that their tears finally start to fall, loud sobs that you quickly hinder as you pull their face into your shirt for the sake of your daughter. Slowly you guide them over to the couch, holding them until they slump against you, leaving you alone once more with the haunting knowledge that is your son's fate.

That night you don't sleep, but that doesn't exactly mean your conscious either, because come morning a nurse is hovering over you and Jess, her hand waving in front of your open eyes, but she receives no response, she's about to tap Jess awake but your daughters sudden whimpers shock you both from your horrifying reverie.

"Good Morning Mrs. Valdez, have you had a chance to make your decision?"

You want to scoff, to reach out and slap this persistent woman, but you know it's the grief; this woman didn't kill your son, she's just doing her job, and she's been kind throughout. No one really killed Joshua, it was just an unfortunate, freak accident, and it's now bled into the worst nightmare of your life.

Jess lifts their head from your shoulder to look to you for clarity, "What decision?," their eyes unfocused, and their grip on you tightening in daunting anticipation.

"Oh, please do excuse me, I'll be back later..." The nurse squeaks in embarrassment as she rushes out, leaving the two sets of paperwork on the table for you two to discuss.

Termination of Life Sustaining Care

Long-Term Facility Care

Jess's eyes dart over the papers, jumping from your lap they pace the room, and your lap is once again filled by a confused little girl.

"Mama? Deda? Why is Josh not up yet? I want to pway now."

Jess stops pacing at your daughters words, then they settle beside the both of you to cup your daughters cheeks, and before you could stop them, they tell her the truth in a not so subtle way, and you have to stop yourself from scolding them.

"Angelina, Joshua's really hurt, and he's not going to wake up."

Her lips trembles as she looks to you, "Like gwamma?," then she flings herself into you when you nod, burying her face in your chest as her body wracks with heartbreaking sobs.

Jess returns to pacing, leaving you to console the four year old while they process the news. Joshua's brain dead, no signs of any activity remain, and without the machines he wouldn't last more than an hour. That's what the cut and dry clinical paperwork says, and the doc confirmed last night when you continued to repeatedly ask the question in a state of shock.

"Wh-what are we going to do Y/N/N?"

"I-I don't know, I really don't want to say goodbye, but that's selfish isn't it?"

"I don't want to let him go..."

Angelina shifts in your hold, "Let it go, just like Elsa says?," tired mumbles fall from her lips as she snuggles that much closer.

"Yeah baby,  just like Elsa says..."

After hours of just sitting by his bedside, watching the mechanical rise and fall of his chest, and allowing a desperate Angie to snuggle with him you signed the paperwork. It moved so fast after that, they explained what was going to happen in detail, not wanting to leave you out of the loop, and you shifted your daughter onto the cot once more.

They removed all the wires first, then shut off the monitors to hedge off the loud noises. They continued to shift around, until all that was left to do was to remove him from the vent.

"Wait..." Jess reaches out their hand to halt the nurse, and she immediately stops, you watch as they take a tentative step forward, tenderly kissing your sons face, and savoring this final moment.

Once they pull back, they relinquish the nurse with a nod; she pulls the tube from his throat, you observe the way that his chapped lips reconnect, and his chest falls dramatically. The nurse cracks an apologetic smile at you before slipping out of the room, and you move forward to scoop your son up, pulling him into your chest, swaying around the room with him, whispering against the side of his head, "It's okay my sweet baby boy, you can go now, we're all going to be okay, I promise."

Jess steps in front of you, arms wrapping around and helping you to support his weight as they choose to speak next, "Mama's right mi primer amor, you're going to get your wings, and fly high above us, protecting us like usual. Until we meet again baby boy..."

His last breath comes only minutes later, the last of the life drains from his skin, the final puff cascading over your face and the tears you'd held back all morning finally fall at the sensation, only steadily increasing as Jess pulls away to grabs their belongings.

"I-I love you, but I can't be here right now.."

Jess rushes off to the pub—you're sure of it, leaving you to console your daughter while flipping through the provided pamphlets of tiny coffins that should never even be made to exist, eyes slamming shut when they roll your son out of the room, successfully taking half of your heart with them as they did.

——

The clock strikes twelve, the keys jangle in the door like clockwork, and you prepare yourself for a continued fight, but the look on their face tells you they intend to keep you up all night. Something in you finally breaks, "Jess! No! I can't do this another night, get out, get the fuck out," and their once smirking face falls when they see you hurriedly approaching.

With a refreshed wave of fresh hot tears trailing down your cheeks, and hands pressed firmly against your spouse's chest you worked to shove them out, but their strength when drunk knew no bounds so they gripped you by your arms, and shoved you until your back hit the narrow wall by the staircase, and they were too far gone to see the fear in your eyes.

"No! This is my fucking house too Y/N!" They spit, your nose hairs burning at the putrid smell of whisky mixed with something tropical on their breath, and your face lightly sticky as it's sprinkled with the remnants.  

"Leave now, I don't need Angie seeing you like this, better yet I don't wish to see you at all!"

"Whatever the case may be I'm not leaving, you can't fucking make me, it was just a silly fight, it'll all blow over come morning."

"No, Jess, it won't. You're never home at this point anyways so why the fuck would it be any different? Go and fuck your side piece for all I care, either way the divorce is happening so suck it up buttercup."

Jess's face dropped, they really thought they were being inconspicuous this whole time. Alcoholism will do that to you too, leave you thinking you're an ultra spy, but really you're like a sneaky kid in a candy store that's just leaving behind a trail of damning evidence. Like the lipstick stained collared shirts you wash for them, or the way they lay down beside you in your marital bed reeking of their assistant's cheap ass perfume, or those long nights that bled into the following ones without a word and their shared location pinging the Motel 6 up the street. 

"This is your fault you know..."

You scoff, "I'm sorry?," pushing them away as harshly as you can and causing them to stumble a bit, nearly falling onto their ass.

"You heard me!! If you had just gone to school that day... If you had gone he'd still be here!"

"Oh, so if I had stopped the freak accident from happening you would've been faithful? That's what you're fucking going with Jess? Our marriage is on the line here and you throw our son's tragic death in my face as if it's somehow my fault."

Their head was in absolute scrambles, words that plagued their psyche daily had come out against their greater judgement, but in their unhinged whiskey fog they just let them fly. They didn't mean it, it was just one of those fairytale thoughts that if the events of the day had been different, then maybe the outcome would have been too.

"I've cleaned up after you for months now, kept Angie safe from the hell that is your new normal, all the while helping her process her own confusing grief, but I'm done now. You're a grown up Jess, your messes are your own, and I'm sure if you flash that crooked smile at Susanna she'll open her door just as fast as she does her legs for you, now get the fuck out before Angie is disturbed."

The sniffles to your right show you've spoken too soon, "Mama? Deda?," Jess's disoriented body is then stumbling back when you brush right passed them to get to your distraught daughter on the staircase.

"You know what, sleep on the couch tonight, but tomorrow I want you and your things out. I just don't have any fight left Jess, and if any part of you still loves me you'll respect that."

Jess watches on in stunned silence as you make your way up the stairs, their heart held together by strings quick to begin unraveling. They collapse onto their knees, strangled sobs fall from their lips as they realize all that they've done to ruin this perfect family, and knowing deep down it started far before Joshua's tragic demise.

They pathetically crawled to the couch, pulling the Pokémon blanket down to cover their body as they fall into a restless nights sleep, with the dream to fix all of this come morning, but the suppressed knowledge to apprise them that it's all just a fruitless fantasy.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~

Scarlett owed them nothing here, especially not after all the hell they've put the both of you through, so once the uneasy looking blonde moved to speak again they knew it was their obligation to give their blessing, to set you free.

"Look, Jess, I'd no intention of harming you by asking this of you, but it's important to me that I seek out your blessing for the sake of your daughter. Angie means just as much to me as Y/N does, I want you to know that, but I'm also not trying to take any role that belongs to you. They mean the world to me, and I promise you that they're safe with me."

"My blessing, though unnecessary here, is all yours to run with Scarlett. Y/N's never been happier than she is when she's with you, and it's taken me awhile to accept that, but it's true. She'll forever be my first love, and I'll cherish that, but I know it's time for me to let go."

They pause for a moment, taking in a deep breath before straightening up in their seat, eyes locked with the green pair across the table, with their hands folded on the table.

"Angie's already brought you up to me as being her 'mommy' one day, and with how excited she was it masked over the hurt and fear of inadequacy it also drummed up inside of me. You've got every right to take up this space you rightfully fit into though, and I bless the title as well, because Angie wouldn't assign it lightly."

Scarlett's gentle, completely genuine smile settled the final pang of dread residing within the pit of their stomach, setting them free too.

"So, thank you for considering me worth your time, and I'd like to formally apologize for my previous actions and any trouble it might've cause you."

Scarlett's hands, much to Jess's shock, settles atop of theirs in an attempt to bridge the metaphorical gap, the softness in her eyes nearly causes them to breakdown, but they manage to offer her a sad smile instead.

"Thank you Jess, I truly appreciate it, but the past holds no bearings for me going forward. Within a weeks time I'd already forgiven you for the trouble you caused us in your time of unrelenting pain, so all is forgiven. I look forward to getting to know you as we move forward, and maybe we'll even be friends."

"I'm counting on it Johansson."

Scarlett nods lightly, then leaves within the same breath, completely at peace, and more so absolutely giddy with what's to come.

——

Angie and Riley had been bouncing off the walls all day, completely besides themselves with anticipation for the school's end of the year carnival. They'd even told you and Scar that they could totally handle getting ready on their own, and you two shared an amused bout of eye contact before giving them the go ahead.

"Angel, are you guys ready to go?"

"Almost mama!!!"

Meanwhile you're feeling the exact opposite; fearful of the potentially angry tiny people who expected you to return ages ago, a handful already telling Scarlett just how upset they were with your absence, and tonight's the night you will be bravely facing them. Scarlett finds you staring at the ceiling in silent hysterics.

"Honey, you're going to be fine, they were happy when I said you'd be there..."

"That's what they say, but just you wait and see, they're going to kill me... I'm far too pretty to go out like that, don't you think?"

Scarlett snorts at your dramatics, hands quick to pull you from the bed, and into her embrace, "Yes honey, you're far too pretty for your own good, now let's go. The kids are getting antsy, and I just know you're going to get a kick at the girls outfits.," and with that implanted idea you're running down the stairs.

—

The moment you arrived on campus the principal pulled you in, "Please, when are you returning? She's lovely, but she's no you.," you hold back a giggle, quietly whispering that it'll be a new start come August, and he sighed, then relinquished you at the confirmation.

The further you walked onto campus, the more the tiny bodies collided with your own, and fortunately for you not a single angry word was thrown at you; only sad eyes, and seemingly never ending stories told by everyone, except little Nathaniel—who was uncharacteristically quiet as he literally hung off of you.

After everyone had dispersed, the excitement of your arrival fading when in comparison to the carnival games, Nathaniel had remained. You looked out to see your girlfriend having a ball, and as if she could feel your stare she looks up to you, wide smile, and thumb raised telling you that they'll be okay for a moment.

You drop to Nathaniel's level, your soft smile breaking him free from his shock, he wraps his tiny arms around your neck and clings to you. The warm tears soak through your shirt, so you nod to his dad, and take him into a classroom.

"Sweet boy, what's going on?"

"I missed you... You said you'd never leave, but you did, just like she did, I was so scared..."

With his heartbreaking confession you just held him close, allowing him the moment to cry it out that you know his father never could. You tell him stories of the time before this, reminding him of his late mother Lily, then once he's calmed you offer him a night of fun.

He held on tightly as you walked to your group, allowing you to put him down once he saw Angie in line for the teacups, and your focus shifted up to Scarlett.

"Everything okay?" ... "Perfectly so.."

Maybe you spoke too soon... "Ow!" You look up to see Carson, the sweetest one year old, had just slapped Nathaniel's arm, all while angrily babbling 'Mama,' before running towards you. Scarlett bites her lip, holding the inappropriate laughter in, "I think he might take after me," she giggles into your ear while you are scolding the baby in your arms with a simple 'no hit' before rolling your eyes and leaving the cackling blonde in your dust.

"Oh come on!!!"

——

School just got out for the Summer, and much to your dissatisfaction Scarlett was leaving this weekend. You'd be completely alone for at least two weeks as your daughter was off to travel to California with her Deda, and Scarlett will be out of the country filming an upcoming project.

So now you were sulking in the kitchen, cooking a farewell breakfast, listening to her playlist and lightly bouncing along to the classic rock when arms suddenly wrap around you from behind, "looks good honey."

Turning the stove down you shift in her hold, leaning your face against her chest, breathing her in while continuing to brood, "Remind me again, when will you be back?," Scarlett's grip tightens, lips land on your temple as she sighs, "End of July, or the first week of August."

Scarlett has never been this reluctant to leave a partner before, part of her hates this newfound feeling, but she knows it's because nothing had ever been so real for her before, even with the years and the kids, none of her exes made her feel like this, always quite the contrast actually. Filming was usually her reprieve from their incessant smothering, but your attention is more a gift than a bother, and she finds herself wondering if retiring at 37 is really that bad...

"I'm going to miss you a lot Scar..."

The quiver in your voice nearly breaks her, so she pulls you back, looking to sees your eyes brimming with tears, and all she wants to do is make you feel better, to forget for a minute.

She reaches over to turn the stove off, throwing a lid atop the pan of breakfast hash, mind far too removed from breakfast now, "Me too honey, so how about you let me leave you with something to remember me by?," her voice dripping with want as she leans into your ear.

She breathlessly chuckles once she feels you nod with an unbridled eagerness, the energy in the room suddenly shifting, and her hands move to hold you by your hips, spinning your bodies so that you're back is pressed against the counter. Lips slam into your own as she subtly slides her knee in between your parted legs, groaning when she feels your bare cunt make contact with the skin of her thigh,"You sneaky little minx, you're fucking dripping.," you whimper in slight embarrassment at the call out, but your painfully in need so you don't dwell long before pleading for more, "Daddy, please... I need you so bad..."

Scarlett's eyes darken when the chosen title slips, her fingers painfully digging into the skin beneath your shirt, "What does daddy's good girl need? Come on honey, use your words.," Your mind is slowly slipping away from you as the pressure inside is painfully building up, you attempt to buck your hips in answer but she holds you still, "Daddy please! I-I need you to fuck me! Use me, just make me feel good...," your pitiful cries are music to the blonde's ears, "There's my good girl.," she starts to move you against her thigh until a rhythm is established, then she relinquishes her hold to give you a chance to take over, and to remove your shirt.

She leans back slightly to admire your pleasure filled face, and bouncing breasts, every single twitch of your features alerting her to just how close you already were, then the way you're soaking her thigh further proves the case, "Daddy.. I'm so close, I need to cum, please.," Seeing you so vulnerable, and completely at her mercy has her dripping with a deep need, "Fucking hell, cum for me honey, let daddy see how good she makes you feel.," Her hands find purchase on your hips again, slamming you down harshly as she flexes the muscles in her thigh to give you that last push over the edge.

Scarlett watches you coming undone, panting mess that you are, and her mind runs wild with all she can do to you in the next few hours, so as you're regulating your breathing she hoists you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and races up the stairs to toss you onto the bed. Your body barely even finishes bouncing before she's crawling to hover above you, lips gently meeting yours as your fingers play with the hem of her shirt, tugging lightly as your muffled whines of disapproval are swallowed. Scarlett chuckles against your lips as your hands become more persistent, so she pulls back to see your scowling face, "Off.," She stares down at you with expectant eyes, waiting for you to correct yourself., "Please..."

Scarlett beams, allowing you to take her shirt off, then as you do she shimmies down and out of it until she's facing your glistening folds, your natural scent driving her insane, "Daddy's going to get a taste honey.,"she barely warns before she's diving right in to devour you. Expertly swiping her tongue through your folds, teasingly swirling around your entrance right before plunging the wet muscle into you. Slick and drool rolling down her chin as she relentlessly thrusts into you without pause, walls rapidly fluttering around the appendage, it doesn’t take long to have you on the edge.

She peers up at you through hooded eyes to see your hands groping at your breasts, and she feels her walls clenching around nothing as she watches the pleasure rolling across your face. Her arms snaked around to pry your legs back open as they’d began to close around her head, thumb sneaking to press down on your clit, and the intense pleasure of your orgasm rolls right through you, your back arching and body trembling as she continues to lap up your cum. Once she’s satisfied enough she slowly begins to kiss up your body, leaving deep love bites behind as she makes her way back up to hover above you again.

Her lips meet yours for a bruising kiss, tongue slipping passed your parted lips, pulling a moan from you as your taste transfers over. You almost immediately struggle to keep up with her lips though, so she eventually pulls back to give you a reprieve, "Tell me honey, what do you want?," Scarlett smirks as you move to look away from her, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you, but she doesn't miss the way your eyes dart over to that drawer, "Oh, sweetheart, do you want daddy's cock?" Your eyes widen as she sees right through you, "Yes, please I want you to fuck your babies into me daddy.," Scarlett groans, jumping up to grab the harness from the drawer, and the loaded strap she keeps in a mini fridge for moments just like this.

Your eyes are locked on her, taking the chance to tease she steps into the harness, using her nimble fingers she slowly spreads herself open, granting you the blessed sight of her dripping core as she slips the smaller piece into herself, and you watch on in amazement as her pussy greedily sucks it all in. Looking up you see the predatory way in which she gazes upon you, the flirty smirk she wears sending another wave or arousal to your core, leaving you a fidgeting mess for her to laugh at.

“Oh, look at you, my poor baby, dripping all over the sheets, need me to fill you up, huh?,” She taunts while climbing onto the bed, the fat tip of her strap nudging at your folds, hips beginning to roll, but she never really gives you exactly what you need. Working on pushing your outer limits, and as expected you start to roll your hips in search of friction, and begin to forget your manners, “Daddy, I-I need you inside of me!,”

Her fingers are quick to wrap around your throat, lips grazing your ear, “Don’t start, and here I was thinking you were my good girl.,” she taunts while squeezing, effectively cutting your rebuttal off as she fully thrusts inside of you, feeling cocky as your restricted moans lie just beneath her fingertips. “I’m going to fill you to the brim honey, going to fuck my babies so deep inside of you until your belly swells.,” she grunts, the pace she then sets is brutal as she greedily chases her own release.

Wanting to hear you she releases the hold she has over your larynx, a strangled set of moans fly out of you as she continuously hits that spot deep within you that has you seeing stars. You’re almost terrified that she’s going to break her bed with how hard she’s fucking you into it. Scarlett’s walls clench tightly around her end as you moan directly into her ear, with every thrust she feels herself teetering over the brink.

Needing to ground herself she slams her lips to yours as she comes undone, and as her hips stutter she presses down to release the faux load into you, painting your walls with the cold, sticky substance, and sending you into a state of oblivion as your body violently convulses beneath hers, your eyes shut tightly , and a slurry of incoherent babbles passes from your lips to hers as she continues to lazily thrust into you, prolonging the both of your orgasms until she feels you whimpering.

You could tell Scarlett was willing to call it when she climbed off of the bed, but you were desperately wanting a taste of her, “Daddy please sit on my face, I wanna make you feel good, I promise I‘m your good girl..” Scarlett’s heart warms at your eagerness to please her, and her cunt drips in anticipation, so she wastes no time in stepping out of the harness, and slotting her thighs on either side of your face. “Go on then, make daddy cum like I know you know how…,” like only you ever could, it’s not a lie to say you’re the best sex the woman’s ever had, and as your tongue works her over she is screaming your praises without restraint.

Scarlett shakily removes herself from your face, looking down to see your sleepy face drenched in her slick, she almost wants to take a picture. Your eyes briefly flutter open, a sleepy smile enveloping your face, successfully receiving one in return, “Sweetheart, don’t go to sleep, we have to eat, and clean you up.,” Your face falls, a pout forming as tears fill your eye line. Scarlett quickly shushes you with a kiss, then she succumbs to the fact that you’re too tired to understand her, so she leaves you to rest.

Scarlett makes a quick return to the bedroom, settling the plateful of the hash, two forks, and water down on your bedside table before making her way over to your slumped form. Taking a moment to just observe your sleeping face she's instantly smiling at the sight of you, soaking up your beauty and capturing mental images of you to store for her pending hiatus.

After a couple minutes of silent admiration her hands land on your face, cradling your cheeks she leans down to kiss your forehead, nimble fingers then gently rub at your temple to coax you from your deep slumber, "Honey, time to wake up.," Your eyes flutter open, but shut just as fast when the bright light proves to harm your retinas, "Five more minutes..."

Scarlett giggles at your tired mumblings, but she has no time to waste here, "Darling, my flight leaves in five hours, we need need to eat, then have time to shower, and hopefully cuddle a bit before you drop me off at the airport." Sleepily you shake your head, "No, you're not going, they can just recast.," Scarlett leans in to peck away your adorable pout, lips linger as a faint taste of your previous encounter remains, she sighs then after a moment of savoring she's manhandling you into a seated position, and ignoring your squeals of disapproval.

Scarlett lifts a forkful of the reheated food to your parting lips, "Eat up buttercup, you're going to need your strength for when I completely destroy you in the shower.," Scarlett laughs as you choke down the bite, winking at you as she lifts the water bottle to your lips to prevent your untimely death.

—

"Riley will be back July 15th, and Marco will be dropping her off with you so her and Angie have time together. You have John's number, he'll be leaving Carson with you while he works, but if you ever need a day off, you just call him and he'll arrange for a sitter, okay?"

"My love, I will never need a day off from being a mom, I absolutely hate the concept actually."

Scarlett's face brightens at your slip of tongue, leaning forward she throws her arms around your neck and pulls you in for a farewell kiss, pouring out every last bit of love she held for you into it, and pulling away a panting mess. The announcement that her flight will be boarding in less than ten minutes reminds you both that time is truly of the essence.

You lean your forehead to hers, "This is where we say goodbye my love," she lifts your face to peck your lips once more, "I know, I just never imagined it would be this hard," and with that she pulls away, heading off to the Pre-TSA baggage claim with a sad smile, and you turn to make the walk back to your car, as a frown consumes yours. 

——

Scarlett made it home just in time before the new school year had started, and you were thrilled. Plans were laid out, but they didn't happen as most of the time spent together was indoors. She was tired, and everyone had missed her, so it was just an intimate week of cuddling up until today, where you'd all agreed to meet with Jess at the park.

Nerves had held you tightly in a vice grip all morning, so when they exchanged pleasantries, and a hug for a greeting you'd nearly collapsed. Scarlett sat on a bench, and you were quick to follow while Jess ran after the three kids.

"What was that?" Scarlett turned to you with a gentle smile, gauging how she could explain without lying to you, so she settles on a half truth, "I visited them before I left, wanted to make amends while they were still in treatment in case it didn't go over well."

She might be an award winning actress, but you're a mom, so you can see when you're being offered only the kernel of truth. However, whatever she's hiding is likely harmless, and their easy engagement makes your life easier, so you choose to not look the gift horse in its mouth as you lay your head on her shoulder, "That was sweet of you darling, unnecessary, but sweet nonetheless."

Scarlett's once tense shoulders drop with the confirmation that you're not the slightest bit annoyed with her for visiting the ex, she settles her head atop of yours, and joins you in watching the way the kids seem to love Jess. The sight of them so carefree makes your heart burst with joy, a bittersweet reminder of what used to be, and could've been had you two just stuck it out. An overwhelming wave of peace soon envelops you though when Scarlett's hand intertwines with yours, and you're reminded that nothing with Jess was ever this easy, and that your time together served a great purpose, but the end was a necessary beginning for you.

"They're really good with the kids.," Scarlett admits as she observes the way they scooped the tired toddler up, cuddling him close to their chest, and cutting the brewing tantrum off before the first whine could erupt, "Yeah, they always were a child at heart, the broken world around them just kinda tainted their shine, I'm happy to see they finally got it back."

The both of you'd fallen into a comfortable silence, eyes closed as you leaned against one another, "Mama! Mommy! Come play!," Angie shouted, effectively scaring you both from your tranquil moment, and her tiny hands wasted no time as they ripped your connected ones apart, and used an unnatural strength to pull the both of you towards the slides.

"Slow down, we're coming..."

Jess was blissfully swinging with a napping Carson leaning against their chest, Angie had stolen Scarlett away from you to 'sell her food' at her 'store,' and Riley was looking to you pleadingly as she stood by the monkey bars, clearly waiting for you to spot her like you always did back at the school.

"Hiya honey.," Riley stares at you wide eyed, her hands wringing much like her mother's did whenever she was nervous, "Y/N/N... I-I want to try to skip again," she places her tiny hands on the first bar, releasing a shaky breath in anticipation, "I'm right here for you Ri-Ri, you can do this! Just remember to swing quickly when you kick off, one hand in front of the next, and don't slow down."

Riley stares at you for an extra beat as if she's searching for something, and once you smirk at her with a quirked brow in silent challenge to go she returns your silly expression then kicks off rather suddenly. Tiny grunts fall from her as she stretches her arms, and swings her body, keeping the momentum up all the way across.

Reaching the last one she steps onto the ladder, twisting her body back to face you with an accomplished smile before leaping into you unannounced, and you effortlessly catch her, as she squeals, "Look! I did it! Mama, I did it!," your heart skips at her natural slip, "Yeah, my sweetest girl, you did, I'm so proud of you."

Scarlett flashes you a bewildered smile from across the park, she's stood at the side of the playground with raised pockets full of twigs, and bark that you know was meant to replicate a 'burger' and 'fries.' Everything seems to make sense to you in the moment with the tiny arms wrapped around your neck, your blended family existing so harmoniously, and your mind settling on how much you never want this moment to end.

——

It was a beautiful Fall day in the middle of October, and you were sat in your bedroom getting ready for a date with your lover. Scarlett had told you to dress comfortably, since the date would last all the way into the night, and that news had you beyond excited. Solo dates were rare for the both of you between your demanding careers and the children, so to have the entire day is relieving. After an hour of tossing clothes around your room you'd settled upon a black pair of faded ripped jeans, with a sheer red blouse that you decidedly tucked in, with a long sleeved black cardigan that fell below your knees, and boots.

Scarlett had been running around all morning in preparation for this 'date,' because the truth is everything was riding on the effectiveness of her methods, and she's just hopeful it doesn't backfire, because she'd hate to lose your trust. The car was loaded with everything she needed except you, since you were still getting ready. Scarlett was listening to her playlist in an attempt to calm her nerves, so when you opened the door it was a bit startling.

"Sorry my love," you giggle out as you enter the car, Scarlett leans over to place a sweet kiss to your cheek while she snuggly buckles you in. "It's okay honey, are you ready to go?," you nod, so she just drives right off in an unfamiliar direction, and you take the time to survey her. She's effortlessly gorgeous; wearing a pair of deep brown corduroy pants, that she'd paired with a lighter shaded baggy sweater, and boots. She was also sporting a smattering of jewelry, and while sat at a stoplight you noticed her spinning her ring around her finger, giving away to her obvious nerves, and causing a dreadful anxiety of your own to build up.

The day is full of love and laughter, the first stop at the beach able to calm the blonde's nerves, so therefore your own had subsided. Scarlett drove you all over the city, taking you to the finest of establishments, and across many a memory lane, filling you with glee. Now, as it approaches dinner time you notice the silence had returned, but the blonde's easy smiles are enough to keep you placated as she pulls up to a pizzeria.

"Honey, put this on.," Your eyes widen when you shift to see a blindfold, "Um, are you planning to kill me?," Scarlett playfully rolls her eyes then puts it on you with a gentle peck. "If I'd planned to kill you, what's my motive?" You ponder her question while she takes off, coming up short when the car comes to a stop not even ten minutes later, "Stay put."

The metal door clicking shut tells you she's left, you hum along to the radio, having to use the music as a basis of time with your current blockade. After about ten minutes your door is opened, causing you to shriek just in case it wasn't your lover, "Honey it's just me, now give me your hand.," she chuckles, after catching your breath you do just that.

With the sounds of crunching leaves beneath your feet you were back to pondering a motive, "Jealousy, that girl flirted with me last week at your red carpet premiere, and I couldn't even walk right for the next three days.," Scarlett cackles as she realizes what you were saying, but she

Once she removes your blindfold she cuts your sight off with a tender kiss, leaving you nearly breathless as she pulls back, her eyes full of something completely unplaceable when she pulls away from you, "I love you Y/N/N.," When you look around you know exactly where you are, there's a blanket set up with pizza, and other snacks that Scarlett sits upon, shakily you turn to see your sons tombstone,

——————————————————————

Joshua Ryan Y/L/N—Valdez

April 10, 2012-October 14, 2019

Beloved Son, Brother, Friend

and Pokémon Trainer

——————————————————————

It's freshly cleaned, the rock shining under the hues of pink and orange the sunset emits; a customized bouquet sits in the flower holder. It's a mixture of gardenias, corn holes, white, and yellow carnations, with a single crimson red rose towering over the rest, the selection clearly methodical, and has you bursting into tears as you turn to face Scarlett. She's kneeling on the blanket with her hands outstretched to you, but before you take them into your own you notice the Pokémon beanie, and she sees, "I wanted to make a good first impression."

The silly smirk on her face is enough to calm you down, so you take her hands, she gently pulls you down to sit on the blanket beside her. While you watch her with your knees pulled to your chest you patiently wait for her to pass you a slice of the pizza, and it finally dawns on you that her selection—Margherita, was Joshua's favorite. Then you're frowning at her salad, realizing she chose a dinner that didn't fit her diet all in the name of your little boy.

"Scar...," She looks to you with a hesitant gaze, nervously throwing her hand up in a request for your silence, to which you nod, and she smiles, "Honey, I lied to you," She outwardly cringes at the way she started this out, but she just rushes on, "I did visit Jess in May to make amends, but that wasn't the only reason; I went there to ask them for permission."

"For what?," She chuckles at your perplexed expression, "Patience honey, I'm getting there."

Scarlett shifts to face you while perched up on her knees, and realization begins to sink in as she takes her next inhale, "You're my fate Y/N, my endgame in this silly life full of obstacles. Never did I think I'd find love again, especially not at a park, but the connections had already been deeply sowed, and because of that we found one another, and look at us now."

"In a cemetery at sunset.," you tearily tease, attempting to ease the obvious tension in her shoulders, and it works as she pauses to laugh. "Yes, in a cemetery at sunset, because in order to ask you what I want to, I need his blessing. I've already gotten Angie's, Riley's, and Jess's, Carson didn't have to say anything, I just knew. I'd read somewhere that a spirit is strongest around their anniversaries, and so I thought today would be the best day to try this out."

It's only then that you even realize today is three years to the day that you're son had died, your hand travels across the blanket in search of her own, desperate for the comforting touch of your lover, while also trying your best to offer her some of her own as she faces the tombstone of your son.

"Hi Joshua, my name is Scarlett Johansson, and I was really sad that we never got to meet; thank you for making my little Riley so happy. Now, I'm here to ask you something, I hope that you'll give me a resounding yes, but I'll get it if you can't, it's sometimes hard to let go. Your mama has become my favorite person, I've fallen madly in love with her, and if you'll let me, I'd love to marry her, what do you say?"

Before you could say a word a sudden gust of wind rolls through your surrounding area, throwing a few loose corn hole petals onto Scar's shirt, and drying the tears on your cheek, you both gasp at the confirming sensation. Scarlett looks to you with teary eyes swimming with hope, "Ask me...," She shifts to face you once more, her hand fumbling around the pocket of her pants and you wonder how you'd never noticed the bulky box that she pulls out.

Her voice is thick with an unwavering emotion, "Y/N, my sweetest creation, will you marry me and make me the happiest woman to exist?" You take in a deep breath that comes back out shaky, coupled with your lip that is trembling, but you somehow manage to croak out a "Yes." Scarlett slips the ring onto your shaking hand then pulls your trembling form into her lap.

"I told you he loved you..."

"He had good taste."

"Yeah, he did... I love you Scarlett, and I can't wait to call you my wife one day."

You fell asleep in her lap, heart full of hope, and mind left to dream of the bright future that's on the horizon for you both. Scarlett just held you close while lightly sobbing as all of her wildest dreams have finally come true.

——

"Mama..."

"Yes little one?"

"Can you tell me the story again?"

You smile, knowing exactly where this is going, turning around to face your son who's looking up at you with bright, half lidded eyes that he tiredly rubs at, the sight warming your heart. He's completely ready for bed in his Pokémon pajamas, you lean down to kiss his forehead, then you lift and tuck him into his bed.

"Where should I start my little love?"

He yawns, then with a last burst of energy he squeals, "The beginning!!!," smiling up at you while he waits for you to go on, and asking you questions about his 'big brudder' any chance he gets until he eventually falls fast asleep with a gentle smile on his face. His tiny arms tightly woven around the worn down Squirtle plush, and your heart aches at the subtle familiarity.

Scarlett watches from the doorway as you sit there, stroking his face far beyond necessary, but the gentle ways in which you love the kids always makes her belly swarm with warmth. Once she hears you sniffle though she makes her presence known, quietly gliding across the room she leans over you to kiss Carson's forehead, then she lifts your face up by your chin, softly pressing her lips to yours, and tasting the salty tears that settled on the top of your lip.

When she pulls away her hands reach down for you, a gentle force used to pull you to your feet, and she quietly giggles into your neck when it's discovered that your lower extremities had betrayed you in falling asleep, and so she drags you off to bed, lightly throwing your presently useless body onto the mattress then she picks out pajamas for the both of you to change into.

Silently she taps your shoulder so you mindlessly lift your arms, "I didn't even hear you come in," your muffled response is vaguely heard by your wife as she lifts the shirt over your head, followed by a relieved sigh when your bra is next to fall.

"Well, I got into the house just in time to kiss the girls goodnight, then I quietly made my way over to pookie's room to hear as you trailed off in your riveting storytelling when he'd fallen asleep. The moment was too sweet to interrupt, but then I heard my sweet girl crying and so I decided to break my silence."

She leaves the floor open for you to say exactly what's on your mind without the pressure as she changes into your worn out t-shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts, then she climbs under the covers, rolling onto her side to face you, and smiling kindly at your perplexed face.

"Can you believe it Scar? We've got us a high schooler now, wow, when did that happen? Not to even mention the middle schooler, and a kindergartner... A day full of new starts."

She sees through your surface level conversing, "Joshua would've been so excited to start high school; I'm sure him and Riley would've joined the Tennis team together, and we'd have been at all of their games. Angie would've been on her phone pretending like she didn't care, but secretly recording every game they played, then Carson would be the opposite, he would have one of those silly little foam fingers on, while jumping and screeching their praises.," pausing, she pulls your lightly trembling body into hers, hand scratching at your scalp, while the other rubs the skin beneath your shirt.

"I'm sure they would've joined one of those silly clubs..."

You interrupt her, "Anime.," and she gasps at your scratchy voices input.

"Yes, exactly! They would've joined the anime club, and gone to all of those conventions together, saving you the pain of having to go with Riley."

"I still would've gone..." You quietly grumble, then lightly nudge the woman. 

She laughs, "Yeah, I know you would've, you're a secret fan.," you follow her lead, after a few minutes the laughter dies down, and you place a delicate kiss to her neck, whispering a broken "Thank you...," against her soft skin.

"He would've been so loved Y/N/N, well, he is."

You hear the strain in her voice, pulling back to really look at your wife you notice the tracks of her silent tears, you quickly rise to wipe them for her, "You never even got to meet him, but you really do love him, huh?," her glossy eyes answering you before she even mutters a word.

"Of course I do, how could I not? His legacy followed him, he made all of my girls so happy, I just know he would've done the same for me."

"You really think we would've been together?"

"Absolutely, you're my actual soulmate Y/N/N, every wrong choice was just a roadblock to get to you, and I know I would've had you, even if I had to have broken you and Jess up myself."

"He would've been so mad if you did that."

"Yeah, yeah I know, he was a good little boy. Listen, I know tomorrow's going to be a hard day for you, but I promise you're not alone."

You lean into her, "I never am with you love," sighing against her lips before kissing her deeply, then nuzzling your nose against hers, "...and you never will be honey."

————————————————————

9,645 Words

This is the last installment of this story.

❤️Kaitlyn🤪

August 2027– Josh/Riley(14); Angie(11); Carson(5) — (Clarification for The ending)

Flowers & Meanings:

White C: purity, innocence, and sympathy

Yellow C: friendship and gratitude

Gardenia: purity and sweetness

Cornflower: hope

Crimson rose: mourning and sorrow

[sailforvalinor]

Blindfolds and Treasured Words (Rikunami Fic)

“It appears we’ve come to a standstill,” DiZ said.

Naminè winced, stared up at the large stasis pod, stopped in its purpose like a flower waiting to bloom suddenly frozen over by an unexpected early-spring frost. She bit her lip in dismay. “Yes.”

“This has gone on long enough.” Every word dripped with condescension—she had failed. She knew that. “Riku—I think you know what needs to be done.”

Riku barely hesitated. “Right.”

DiZ said nothing more. He didn’t need to. Without a backward glance, as if she were merely a feature of the room rather than a person he had been having a conversation with, he left.

Riku gave a barely audible sigh.

Naminè hesitated—despite their working together for nearly a year now, she still found it difficult to initiate conversation with Riku. But it wasn’t in the same way that she found it difficult to talk to DiZ. She certainly found him intimidating—the black coat he was forced to wear certainly didn’t help matters—but not necessarily in a negative way. He was, especially of late, of few words, and thus everything he did choose to say felt important. To Naminè, his every word had weight, and it could be said that she hoarded them like a dragon does its gold. He was the only one she had to talk to, after all.

“You…don’t want to do this,” she finally said.

“I wish I’d never looked at her,” he said softly, bitterly.

Right. Because she looked like her.

She moved a few steps closer, wringing her hands anxiously. “Will you still do it?”

Riku’s mouth tightened. “I have to…don’t I?”

Naminè wasn’t even sure what answer she’d wanted. “I suppose so.”

Riku nodded, then reached back to tighten the knot on his blindfold—a gesture of resolve. She sensed he was about to go, but then, seized with a desperate need to keep talking to someone, anyone, she asked, “Do you…really need to wear that?” Without realizing what she was doing, her hand began to reach towards his face.

He caught her hand a couple inches from his nose, somehow sensing what she was doing. She nearly jumped out of her skin. “I do,” he said, still softly. It took her a moment to realize he didn’t sound angry. “It helps keep the Darkness at bay. There’s no real power in it, but it helps me visualize the Darkness still locked inside me, almost as if I’m seeing inside my own heart. If I take it off, well…the Darkness comes out. And so does Ansem. And…I don’t want you to see me like that.” He paused. “How come you’ve never asked before?”

“I…was too afraid to ask.”

“Because I scare you?” He was still holding her hand. “You’ve seen the Darkness in my heart. You can feel it.”

Naminè stared at him, wide-eyed, completely at a loss as to what to say.

He seemed to take her silence as agreement. He loosened his grip on her hand, turned as if to go. “I don’t blame you.”

Naminè grabbed his hand with both of hers before it could slip away. “No, no, it’s not—it’s just—“ She floundered for words. Riku waited patiently. “I…get nervous. I don’t get to talk to a lot of people. But you don’t scare me.”

He picked up instantly on what she wasn’t saying. “DiZ does.”

Naminè bit her lip, but didn’t reply.

Riku didn’t need to say that DiZ was overly controlling, unnecessarily cruel, out of line. They both knew it, and they both knew that there was nothing they could do about it. Sora had to wake up. He was all the help they had. So instead he gave her hand a comforting squeeze, then let it go.

Something else seemed to occur to him, though. “Tell me, Naminè…why are you doing this? Is it because of him? Or…” He seemed to glance towards the pod where Sora slumbered, though he could not see. “Are you trying to…atone? Like me?”

Naminè sighed. “A bit of both, I guess. I don’t know what DiZ would do if I didn’t play along. But mostly…I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I haven’t been alive for very long, but in that short time I’ve caused so much trouble—for Sora, for you, for…well, everyone.” She looked back at Sora. “I have to fix everything I’ve broken. Just my existence has caused so many problems.”

“That’s not true.” Naminè turned back to him, surprised, and found that, for the first time since he had started wearing that blindfold, he suddenly seemed to look almost schoolboyish. A slight smile played across his face. “It’s been nice…having you around,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

A strange heat spread over Naminè’s cheeks, though she did not know what it meant. “Because I remind you of her?”

Riku chuckled. “Actually, no. You reminded me of her at first, but really, you’re nothing like Kairi at all. Not in a bad way,” he quickly added. She wasn’t sure if she were imagining it, but he looked a little pinker than usual. “In a good way. You’re…different.” He grew serious again. “I think DiZ is wrong. You, Roxas, Xion—you’ve managed to become your own people on your own. I don’t know how, or why, or what that means—all I know is what I can see.” He suddenly gave an embarrassed half-laugh. “Which admittedly right now isn’t a lot.”

Naminè couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the fact that her head was spinning. Her own person. Did he really believe that? Could she ever be…?

Riku regarded her with a strange look on his face as she laughed. Then, he took her by the shoulders, saying, “Naminè. Do you still think you don’t have a heart?”

Naminè blinked. “Well, that’s what DiZ says…”

“But what do you think?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t know what she thought. All she knew was white walls in endless rooms, people in black coats, and an aching loneliness she wasn’t sure was real or just a product of having a hollow place where her heart should be. What did she know about hearts, really? No matter how much she might want to know what it was to love or hate to feel sadness or joy or anger, she never could—and whatever she think that she felt sometimes was a mere shadow of the real thing, ripples of energy she pretended were emotions because of how much she wanted to feel them…right?

“I…I don’t know.”

Riku frowned, then switched tacks. “What is it you want most?”

“I don’t—“

“—what is it that you’re drawing all the time?”

Her drawings. The drawings of him, of Sora and Kairi, of Roxas and Xion and Axel, sometimes daring to put herself among them, standing on the islands, holding hands. And smiling. Always smiling.

“I don’t think someone without a heart would want something like that, do you?” he asked gently.

Naminè just stared at him, eyes huge, unable to say a word.

He seemed to understand her silence. “I don’t think any of us really understands what Nobodies are—no matter what DiZ says.”

Naminè smiled. “Maybe not.”

Somehow, in his blindness, he smiled back. Then, letting her go, he turned and began to walk towards the door.

“Why did—why did you ask me all that?” she blurted.

Riku turned back over his shoulder, a somber heaviness coming over him. She instantly regretted her words—he had probably been trying to leave her on a lighter note. “…because when I come back, when I see you again, I might not be the same. I might have to give into Darkness to do this. I don’t want to, but if it’s a choice between giving in to Darkness or losing my best friend forever…” He clenched his fist. “…I know what I’ll choose.”

Naminè looked down, clasping her hands. “And…I’ll have to go back to Kairi in the end.” She looked up, staring into his face, getting the sense that he was staring right back, despite the blindfold. “You know that. You…you might not see me again at all.”

A sad, soft smile broke over his face, and she felt the weight of this moment, her breath hanging in her lungs, suspended, like a pendulum at the height of its swing. There was a promise in his words, the ones that she hoarded so. “Naminè…I’ll always see you.”

Then, he left.

She would never see him with her own eyes again.

“Riku…thank you,” she whispered after him. “For talking to me.”

[iheartgracie]

vandyreyn quotes part 1

“But most of all, Reynolds McAllister is this: My soul mate.”

“I’ll remember the way his smile makes me go all soft inside, and I’ll remember the way he laughs—low and breathless—when I stumble over a dip in the asphalt. I’ll remember the way my heart feels like a hummingbird when he squeezes my hand, and feeling scared and thrilled and like I’m finally a part of something.”

“Over my brother’s shoulder, he finally looks at me. From the way his eyes go shuttered, face paling, it’s the first time he’s even noticed me here. I can’t even imagine how I look—wide-eyed and struck so frozen that it’s hard to even pull in a breath. Our gazes lock for a long, suspended moment. Even after Emory steps back, asking Reynolds something about school, we don’t look away. It’d be silly to call what passes between us, in that moment, understanding. Really, I don’t understand anything. I don’t understand the way my chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself, and I don’t understand the way he stands rigid like that, like the barest twitch may shatter something. No, it’s not understanding. But it’s something. Something only we share, that only we can know.”

“Wait.” 

She freezes, slowly turning to give me a blank look from over her shoulder. And I’m not even sure why I asked her to. So many things need to be said that it feels like I’m drowning in the tidal wave of it. She could stand there all night, her pretty blonde hair rippling on every passing breeze, and I’d still only be able to scratch the surface. I want to say that I’m sorry. I want to tell her what I’d told Emory before—that I wish it’d been me. I want to say that I think of her every night when I fall asleep and every morning when I wake up. I want to say that I spent the last three years paying for it in sweat and blood and isolation, and that it still isn’t enough, and that I know it. I want to say that I’ve missed her. ”

“Just as I’m watching him, his green eyes pass over us, only to skitter back, gaze locking onto mine for a tense moment as he walks leisurely toward the field house. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until he finally breaks my gaze, letting his head hang as he jogs the rest of the way. ”

“Suddenly, a hand clenches around my upper arm. A low, velvety voice rushes against my ear, “I’ve got you.”

A shiver runs down my spine. I was wrong. I do know who’s hiding under that mask. There’s no doubt who that voice belongs to; Reyn. ”

“Despite a gazillion reservations, I steady my hands on his firm, broad shoulders and hop. His hands catch my thighs and hitch me up, and he straightens easily, hooking his arms under my legs.

“Good?” he asks, although he’s already moving.

“Go go go!” I urge and without any more hesitation, he takes off through the woods. He moves just like the athlete he is, steady and sure. The jostling makes me clench my knees around his waist, and when I press my cheek against the side of his neck, his skin is warm and a little clammy. As he darts through the forest, I’m overwhelmed by sensations. The scent of him, soapy, clean, and masculine, fills my lungs.”

“Who knew it’d come in handy, huh?” and smiles at me. 

It’s the smile. His eyes still look tired, and he has that same stillness about him, but now his lips are pulled back, revealing both of his dimples. 

It kills me.”

“I don’t know where you got it in your head that you’re not…” He pauses, and when I turn back to him, his expression has hardened. “That you’re not, like… desirable or whatever, but it’s not true.”

I stare back at him, too stunned to form words. 

Did Reyn just say I’m desirable? ”

“I wring my hands together. “Reyn—”

“So, I know, okay? I know you missed out on a lot of firsts because of what I did, and,” he exhales like he’s trying to fold in on himself, “that you might feel…pressure. To just take something because it’s there, for the sake of having done it. But you shouldn’t do that, V.” He pins me under his stare. “You shouldn’t just settle for anything.”

[memo14g]

UMC Shadowing Day 1 (7/3) || Jeffrey Nguyen (UCSD)

We arrive at the entrance of the first 14G mission trip designation in Việt Nam, the University Medical Center (Bệnh Viện Đại Học Y Dược)— The burning weather plows on the commonly cramped and congested hospital. The surplus is surreal to even us, the members of MEMO, well-conditioned and familiar with serving the underserved population through medical and educational needs.

14G shuffles through and squeezes up a hard-working escalator. “It’s like 10x more packed than an airport!!”— the noise of a MEMOber perishing, drowning in all of the commotion crowding the entire floor– Probably Sarthak. He has good humor.

We eventually enter a conference room where Dr. Bui and Co-Executives Directors, Sam and Jenny, present a speech introducing MEMO and 14G. The organizations joined here today consist of CardiacLife Foundation, University Medical Center, VinaCapital Foundation, Heartbeat Vietnam, and of course, your friendly locally and abroad MEMO. We meet Khuê from CardiacLife Foundation. (Khuê becomes our close-knit companion who decides to embark along 14G as a newly cherished, iconic MEMOber. Tune in future blogs for more about Khuê!).

Bouncing through the doorway enter the ever-sweet, precious, and unimaginably cute children we sponsored heart surgeries via the Open Our Hearts Gala in May. My jaw DROPS meeting them in person. Their heart surgeries. We funded that.

One of the baby boys repeats and repeats in awe, “Mom, it’s so crowded! Mom it’s so crowded!,” occasionally sneaking in between also the phrase, “Mom, I need pee.”-- Truly precious and worth cheek-pinching. For a moment, everyone in the room could not stop smiling and laughing at the peak of their hearts.

One of the mothers can ever so slowly, barely make out words and hold her tears as she expresses her deepest gratitudes for her baby son’s treatment. Her family relies on just one scarce source of income from picking rubble from the streets. Each and every single one of us are throats and chests just as tight-knotted, lips wringed, and of eye-water welled from the hearts’ very bottom.

This moment. I know— it will stick with me forever. A once-in-a-lifetime miracle that MEMObers vow as a mission to revive again many times, for many families. After a heartwarming, blissful, and eventful picture, the shadowing begins.

In the cardiovascular surgery department, my group is observing Dr. Dinh. Dr. Tran from MEMO accompanies us. Ready to check out the operating room, alongside me in nifty blue scrubs are Jenny, Megan, Jules, Sarthak, and Michelle. Dr. Dinh casually asks, “Who wants to scrub in? Haha”. What's scrubbing in… I think to myself. I have a feeling. And it’s that he’s asking one of us to partake in the surgery— OH, Sarthakkk you’re raising your hand, ya ya you go my guy.

Sarthak follows instructions to “scrub in”, sterilizing his hands and arms, then donning the surgical scrubs. The surgeons and the room are sterile to avoid introducing unfamiliar bacteria to the open patient. Wash up, hands UP, and glove up. When walking in the operating room, have your hips and head facing the patient’s body. You preferably want to avoid knocking the patient over mid-surgery.

Today is an open heart surgery case. It contrasts the much less-invasive “stent” procedure for certain cases where only a small incision is needed on the chest— But here, with open heart surgery the skin is “cauterized” or laser-ed open vertically down the chest’s center and then the sternum chest bone is sawed open.

Sarthak suctions with a tube the smoke from the cauterizing, One of the surgeons pulls out a saw (omg) tool and starts sawing open the sternum down the middle into two like a Bánh Mì. The sternum chest bone is then CRANKED apart via metal tools. I did not know bone could bend so much without breaking. The left and right chests were miles apart with a deep valley in the center, perhaps with also a small lake of red.

We were getting to the heart, but then suddenly— Lunch time. We exit the operating room door and re-dress while the surgeons continue. Remember to “scrub out”

[randomupdatez]

Forever Stuck

Theres a man in bed with me. He’s pounding his hammer into my chest. Breaking my sternum. Turning my bones into dust. Pinching my arteries. Carving my heart out. Holding it in his hands. Squeezing it as hard as he can. Wringing it like an old, stained, torn washcloth. 

I’m unmoving. 

He comes into my dressing room. Starts wrapping my body in plastic. Long thin sheets. He walks in circles around me as I stare into the mirror. He moves up my body. Meticulous. Grazing every single inch of me. The plastic tight around my neck. Trapping each breath underneath.

I am unmoving. 

He says my eyes are an ocean. If that’s true, then my wrists are merely swimming pools. Slowly filling up. up. up. Trying to hold more and more and more. He cannonballs in, ruining the still water. My veins explode and rupture. Feeling him in me feels like a tsunami on its way to cause irreparable damage.

But still I am unmoving. 

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

[junisfics]

Hate Fucking ft Eren Jaeger (Day XV)

Focus: Hate Fucking

Warnings: Smut / Nsfw 18 + (Rough Sex), Brief Violence (Blood, Asphyxiation)

Word Count: 2k

You could kill him.

That impulsive, hate ridden, destructive maniac. You want to rip his throat out with your teeth.

Your jaw is clenched tightly, eyebrows furrowed together in anger, as you sit beside Sasha and across from Connie. They chatter nonsense as you eye him down from across the room.

Just hours ago he had taken out all his pent up anger by mercilessly insulting you after your defeat during training. Although wasn't for the reason one would think.

He had you pinned to grass bare dirt, knee pressing into your right arm and opposite foot pressing painfully into your right wrist. The tendons in your forearms rapping up against the sole of his shoe like the strings on a guitar.

His knife held against your throat, every swallow you take causing it to bob gently. His other hand bracing him up by the ground beside your skull, preventing him from sitting on your upper stomach.

"Get off me." You spit, writhing beneath his unexpectedly heavy body.

You speak with your eyes boring into his own. His brows knit together, beads of sweat trailing down his dirt covered face.

"You couldn't even give it your best for me?! You're going easy?! Piece of shit!" He practically growls, pushing the knife further against your quivering throat to enunciate the expletive.

He hates the way you distract him. Never did it cross his mind that you didn't give him your all, it was only the most convincing excuse he could come up with. He despises you for the way your innocent eyes glint as you look at him, and he hates you more for the uncertain lust that lures behind them as he has you pinned beneath him.

"Eren, I'm not - I didn't - get - you're hurting me,"

Recklessly, he throws the knife aside, causing the blade to slit a shallow cut against the fragile skin of your neck. It stings, assumingly more than a deeper cut would have. His large hand replaces the blade, his sweat poisons the wound and sending harsh waves of prickly pain through your body, he squeezes... hard.

Pathetic croaks slip under his palm and past your lips, blood rushing to your face and a deep buzz filling your ears.

Your limbs flail in response, desperately trying to shake him off.

His nose is scrunched, teeth grit into a snarl, face inches away from yours as he alternates the pressure on your neck.

Hard, bruising, enough to threaten unconscious, but before that can happen his grip goes soft enough to give you a moment of uninterrupted breaths. All the time while looking into your fearful eyes, like he's waiting for the light to go out.

You hated the way your body heated up under his dominance. You can't blame yourself, who wouldn't feel at least a twinge of excitement when pressed that closely up against a guy that attractive.

"Eren - p - please, I can't - I" You're voice is hoarse, tears flooding your vision.

He's tackled off. You sit up quickly, hands go flying to your abused throat, clutching and clawing at it mindlessly as you swallow heavy gulps of air. Sasha's by your side, squatting back on her calves with an arm thrown around your heaving shoulders.

Connie throws violent punches to Eren's face as he presses his skull into the dirt with his other hand.

His face bruised, Connie's fist split open a gash in his cheekbone. His pretty green eyes surrounded by popped blood vessels.

You admire his wounds from your table, completely disregarding your dinner and pushing it to Sasha. You go as far as thinking he's pretty... when his mouth is shut. Such a shame that such a handsome face is attached to a shitty person.

"Connie took care of him, y/n, he won't bother you again." Sasha says through the bread stuffing her mouth.

"He's just... an angry person."

***

You shower off the emulsion of sweat and blood that's covering your skin. Scrubbing so harshly with the tattered rag that red welts leave in its wake. The gash on your throat pulses and stings but your glad it's clean.

The itchy fabric of your shirt clings to your damp skin, the now cold water in your hair drips down your your chest as you squeeze it in your fist to wring it out. Legs guiding you back to your room.

Before you can completely retreat, the door gets pushed open as you attempt to close it.

"Hey -" Your mouth shuts immediately.

Eren enters shamelessly, shutting the door behind him as you back away slowly. Your heart wracks against your chest, breath caught once again in your throat no thanks to him.

He's come to finish you off, he's got you alone and now he's come to pummel you into next year.

His hand grips your jaw to avoid the slit on your throat, pressing your cheeks together so your lips pucker ever so slightly. You reach up to his wrist, reaching for sinewy muscle that strains under his grasp.

His eyes look down to you, a dangerous look passing through them momentarily. His face too close for comfort, his hot breath passing through his grit teeth and fanning over your face.

He walks forward, sending you stumbling back against the closed door.

You feel embarrassingly helpless before him. You pray he can't feel the shaking in your legs.

If he starts getting violent will someone know? Will someone hear? Would there be anyone to stop him this time?

"I fucking hate you." He spits, leaning against you and resting his palm against the wood of the door beside your head, "I think about killing you every fucking day we're stuck in this stupid cottage."

Your stomach turns at his words, but you have no courage to speak out against him. Something inside you tells you to listen to him... to wait.

"You drive me insane"

"Eren -" You speak through puckered lips, one hand holding his wrist and the other pushing against his chest.

Whimpers leave your mouth, desperate cries for him to release you, leave you, apologize, something.

"Fuck - " His voice falters for a moment and his jaw slacks as he glances down to the floor, "Do you know what you do?"

His eyes meet yours, the gears in your head begin to turn. They're softer this time, apologetic.

"I - I don't - please, Eren - I don't know what - "

"Stop begging, fucking stop," He closes his eyes tightly as the hand on the door drops to the field of skin between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes tightly, desperately trying to restrain himself.

"You're so god damn lucky my need for you is stronger then my hate." His face gets too close to quickly, leaning down so your noses are a breath apart, "because I hate you so fucking much."

It's not your stomach that turns within itself this time, it's something else... something lower. All of a sudden his grip is erotic and his body heat is radiating onto yours in all the right places. He's so close, the tension is straining.

"I - I'm - " You're stupid. You can't even think. Your entire body short circuits.

"Let me have you." He begs, voice needy and dropping octaves lower.

He begs.

You mouth drops open as arousal sparks deep inside you. A shudder wracks your body at his words.

"I know you want it. I see it. G - god, fuck, please y/n." Both hands come to hold your face in his hands, "I hate the things you do to me."

His hips stutter forward against your stomach and you can feel him, hard, throbbing in his pants. A whine escapes your lips.

It's pathetic... embarassing... how much you want him. How much you want the man that constantly dances on your last nerve to take you in his strong hands.

"I hate you." Your voice is weak and unconvincing to both him and you.

His mouth takes yours, swallowing your whimpers and flooding you with him. You taste him on your tongue, dull taste of mint toothpaste and herbal tea. You're drunk for it. Hands gripping at the collar of his shirt to pull his toned body flush against you. It's borderline violent, his tongue drinking in your breathy moans and teeth biting at your lips.

You need him. You need this. You need this feeling, this tension, flooded out of your system and gone for good. You want it fucked out of you.

You push against his neck to give you enough space to mumble against his soft lips, "I need you to fuck me, fuck me as hard as you hate me, please."

His cock twitches, jaw dropping at your desperation. A groan choked up in his throat.

You lick at his open mouth and he takes it in his mouth and sucks on it. Never, never in your entire life would you have thought your cunt would flutter around nothing due to someone taking your tongue in their mouth.

He lowers himself into a squat, taking the waistband of your sleeping pants and dragging them down your thighs, biting at the supple skin that's revealed. His calloused hands hold onto your legs as he licks a broad stripe up your inner left leg all the way up to your hip bone.

You let out a breathy moan as he kitten licks at your clit through your panties.

"No, please, I need you - need your cock." You plead and he lets out a curse as he stands.

You kiss him again. Hands grabbing at his torso to get a hold on the waistline of his pants. He follows you, using one hand to press your chest against the door and the other pushing his clothes down his thighs just enough so his aching cock is freed.

Roughly, he grips the backs of your thighs and hoists them around his waist. Cock slipping between your bodies and brushing against your clothed cunt. Pushing you high enough up the door to take his length in his hand, you pull your panties to the side. His tip teases your entrance. You're sheathed onto his length, filthily moaning out as his cock drags across your walls.

"Fucking shit." He groans into your neck, "You're so wet, you're so fucking wet."

It's overwhelming. The flexing of his muscles underneath your grip, his low groans against your skin followed by open mouth kisses. You bite down on your lip, walls fluttering around his throbbing cock in reaction to his words.

"Oh my god, y/n. Did you just cum?"

You did.

You're cunt gripping his dick like a vice. You came just as he buried himself to the hilt. His tip kissing your cervix gently.

"Give me another." You beg, fisting his shirt tighter in your fist.

You're fucked into the door, shirt riding up as you're dragged up and down the both literal and figurative wood.

"You - Eren - you're so big." Your grip on his shoulders is bruising, arms wrap around his neck and forehead falling against his, mouth open in heavy pants.

"You're so pretty like this. God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this. How long I've been conflicted by you. I've fucked my hand to your pretty face every fucking night wishing it was your cunt."

You can't believe it. This whole time he hasn't hated you for anything you've done... he's hated you because he was hating the way you made him feel. You're cunt throbs around him at the mere thought.

"And now... fuck - fuck - just like that - now I have you... and my cock is inside you and not my fucking fist."

You came harder then you ever have before, head slamming back against the door and legs shaking as you suck him in and milk him dry. He slams you down one more time onto his cock and holds you there, throbbing inside you.

[awkwardspontaneity]

Hello. This is my first request for the Legend of Zelda, so I do not know how to write it correctly. I don't speak English and I'm writing this in a translator, so there may be mistakes here, sorry. In general, I want to see how the reader will react to the fact that Revali, Link and Sidon cheated on her. (something made me feel sad) Thank you in advance ╹▽╹

I'm so sorry something happened to upset you. If it's along the lines of this request give me a name😤👊 anyways thank you so much for requesting!! This ended up being so much longer than I intended but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope this is what you're looking for!

✨ requests are open✨

Warning: angst, cheating

Revali🐦

I think with his prickly nature not a lot of people would stick around long enough to get to know how much he cares

But some bitch saw how much he was training to perfect his powers to help Hyrule and couldn't resist

It started off as bringing him lunches and heat pads after a long day of training and then it escalated

They would wrap his wings up and suddenly he was letting them fix his braids. He never saw it as much more than a fan helping him out but you saw differently

It ended up in a big fight when you finally brought up how Revali was allowing this fan to hang off of him like they were his partner not you. You brought up excellent points like how he took such a long time to even trust you with braiding his hair and that he could at least let them know he's in a relationship.

Revali got upset (probably cuz ur right and he can't admit it) and snapped that at least they appreciated him

Yeah bad move. You walked out and bird brain left to train away the pain

You came across his first and decided to head to the shooting range with some peace snacks but what do you find?

You walk up the slope towards the archery range, a container of Revali's favourite snacks in hand. As you approach you see something sitting inside the hut and assume it's him. Sterling your breath you walk into the hut and what you find takes your breath away- not in the good way either. Revali sat there with his wings wrapped around them, too caught up on their liplock to notice you standing there.

CRASH

The container hits the ground with a shatter, ruining their little scene.

"Y/n-"

"Don't even try it." You wish your voice didn't sound as broken. No matter how much your heart squeezed in pain from the betrayal, you wanted to come off so much different- angrier. Because you were angry. "Just because we have an argument does not give you the right to run off with your new friend."

Revali flinches at the word and you feel a sick glimmer of satisfaction. He opens his mouth to protest, ignoring your glare. "I-I'm sorry." Your glare darkens and he immediately flounders for the right words. "You accused me of something I didn't do-"

Yeah, not the right words. You wish you could do something, anything to hurt him like he hurt you. But you had to be the bigger person no matter how much you wanted to snap that precious bow of his in half.

"I accused you, not have you permission."

"We can work through this, together" his wing reached out to you, but you recoiled to fast.

"We're not together." You walked towards the entrance "I hope it was worth it."

Link 🗡️

Link is a closed off person. Sure he has people worship him for his title as the hero of Hyrule, but he would never let that get to his head. You could tell this boy he's amazing and it still wouldn't get through his insecurities

Maybe it's cruel but, that almost reassured you he would never break your heart like that. You felt secure in your relationship

That's why it was so shocking when you found out he had fallen for Zelda.

It wasn't meant to ever be more than knight and princess. And you never should have found out.

You were walking towards the stables of your party was staying at. It was supposed to be a simple trip to complete some research out in the plains. Of course your trip was ambushed by an energetic princess who begged to come along for research purposes. You couldn't complain because the addition of the princess also came with your boyfriend Link.

Now you were looking for him outside the small ranch. You fully expected him to be caring for Epona like he always did after a long trip. His love for his horse was something you had always loved about him. The way he would stay later than everyone else to make sure she was okay. It had made stables kind of your spot. Hanging out at the end of a long day to talk and spend time together while caring for your steeds.

Maybe that was why your heart felt so utterly shattered when you did find him, standing next to the stable, with the princess in his arms. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into believing he was being friendly if he hadn't pressed a long loving kiss to her forehead followed by both her cheeks, chuckling softly as she giggled.

You knew they had always been close. I mean they spent all their time together. You'd just never thought that Link would do something like this to you.

You walked away from the stables fighting backs the tears in your eyes. It was only when you found you had walked into an older area, a spare shack outside, that you finally let the tears fall. Your heart twisted in pain as sobs tore from your throat.

Why hasn't you seen this? Why weren't you enough?

------

Your research trip was almost over. You had gone back late into the night to find Link on the edge of his bed head in his hands. He had shot up to demand where you had been when you finally walked in and although he looked like he wanted to argue, he accepted that you had been organizing your research supplies and notes in quiet.

That had been 3 days ago. You had spent the research trip sticking close to your colleagues, poring over each plant and testing their uses. The princess was too distracted with her own interests to really notice how you shied away from her presence. Link had though. And he was about done with you brushing him off in favour of your work. You both were busy so not having time was nothing new. But this was different. You couldn't meet his eyes and he had caught you staring at him and Zelda as if you were about to cry before. He was at a loss and now he needed to figure things out for himself.

However he wasn't quite ready for the answer.

"I saw you and Zelda together."

His throat closed up. He wanted to say so many things. How sorry he was. How he wished he could have told you himself. How he wished he could hold you and forget how complicated things were.

"it's okay." Now that, he wasn't expecting. "I thought I could be mad at you. Both of you. But I guess... It just makes sense." You sniffled softly. You really didn't want to do this. You hated that it had to be you who gave up. But we're you really going to fight? No. As much as it tore your heart into pieces, you would stand aside for them. "I wish that things hadn't changed but, clearly you don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to hold you back. I love you. So much. But I don't deserve this, and I won't put either of us through the trouble. I hope you two are happy together Link."

As you walked towards your friends to head home Link felt his heart clench. You deserved so much better.

Sidon🦈

You were a princess from another kingdom, betrothed to Prince Sidon of the Zora. We all know how these things go, neither of you were all that fond of the idea but you would go through with it. For your kingdoms

You tried to be as understanding as possible of the situations, knowing that the prince was just as trapped as you were. So you played along with your parents wishes.

You two went on dates and spent time together, getting closer and closer until finally you kissed him.

Things were great. You were planning your wedding and enjoying the time you spent with your fiance as you prepared for your future

It wasn't until a few days before the wedding when you were trying on your dress that things fell apart.

Your dressmaker had been in a bad mood, grumbling as they worked and even sticking you with needles a few times. You would have brushed it off as a bad day if not for the facts that they seemed so unapologetic.

You finally brought it up, softly asking if there was something wrong and if you could help. They snapped, going off about how you were ruining the princes life and that he didn't love you and was only marrying you for his kingdom and that he deserved to be happy.

They realized their mistake and left quickly, leaving you alone in your wedding dress with shocked tears slipping down your face.

You later made you way to Sidons office, hoping to clear some things up and maybe seek comfort from the one you loved.

What you didn't expect was to find him already comforting someone. Your dressmaker.

You watched as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to them. It was when he said no matter what they were the one that he loved when you broke away.

You stood in your room, packed bags beside you. You knew there were better ways to deal with this. You knew that your kingdom was counting on you and thus marriage. You just couldn't go through with it. Not anymore.

"Y/n?"

You sound around to find the Zora princess standing in your doorway. Mipha had become a close friend in your time in the Zora domain, even feeling like family as you worked closely planning the wedding. She had once told you that you were everything she could hope for in a sister and wife for her brother. You guessed it didn't matter in the end.

Finally you choked out pained words "I can't... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"If you are feeling nervous, I can assure you my brother would never hurt you."

This made you laugh. It was cold, similar to the ice creeping into your veins. "He would. And he did." You cut off Mipha's confusion, wringing a hand through your hair, "Sidon is in love with someone else. I made every effort to work through this engagement despite our... rocky beginning. But he didn't choose me back. He never wanted me, and I won't ruin his chance to be happy."

The room was silent after your outburst. You only noticed the tears when your friend wiped them from your eyes. She offered you a small smile, sharing the pain you felt. She was losing you and still understood it was best for you. You needed to move on and save yourself from a life of pain. A life of being chosen second.

"I hope one day we can meet again, sister."

You let out a choked mix of a son and laugh. Hugging the princess before you grabbed your bags and walked out the door, out of the kingdom that stole your heart and crushed it in its hands.

"I love you, always."

[8bitscarlet]

Talk to Me

Summary: Your body has started its faster than a normal physical recovery from last mission's injuries. The words you utter towards a certain witch might start your slower than normal emotional recovery.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Angst (cussing, mention of suicide)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Here's part five of Accidentally on Purpose! Happy reading! Shoutout to @yeetus-thyself for that idea in the beginning in a reblog comment 😂. Happy reading!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

____________________

You wake quietly on a stiff mattress, sucking in a slow breath as you listen to distant mutterings and a slow incessant beeping near your ear. Without moving, you peer through one of your eyes and take in the scene around you.

Nat is asleep in a chair near your bed, arms crossed and chin dipped into her rising and falling chest. Further down the room, Stark is tinkering with a machine as he talks to Wanda, you can just catch a muttering of your name pass between their lips. Banner stands next to Steve who looks like he's drawing blood, a small squeeze ball in his hand. Wanda walks from the room and shuts the door behind her, quieting the room to just the beeping of the machine you're hooked too.

Quietly as you can, you close your eyes and suck in a deep breath, filling your lungs with air. Gradually, you feel the small twitches in your body as the beeping machine begins to slow. The machine clicks and the alarm blares out, your heart rate and respiration too low for someone who should be alive.

The chair Nat was in squeals against the floor, "Banner, hurry up!"

You can feel the presence of the crowd around you, someone checking on the machine as another grabs your limp arm to feel your pulse. You nearly break, feeling the need to smile but you hold it for just a moment longer.

"JARVIS, give me a look. Now!” You hear Tony say and know the ruse will be up if you don't act first.

Tearing your hand from Nat, you open your eyes to Tony who's leaning in and trying to scan you and yell, "Boo!"

Tony lets out a yell as he jumps back from you, leaning against the wall. Nat clenches her fists but slams her hands over her face as she squats to the floor. Banner nearly knocks over the machine as Steve stands in worry from his chair.

"If you weren't just stabbed, I'd punch you in the face!" Natasha yells at you, sliding her hands through her hair roughly, "I hate you so much."

You're trying to stop your laughter as it sends pain through your not fully healed wound. You can feel your face grow with heat from your fits of laughter, "It was too good to pass up. You should've seen your faces."

"I suppose we have the answer to how you're feeling, Y/N," Steve chuckles as Banner removes the needle from his arm, standing and rolling down his button down sleeve.

Nat throws the bed remote at you as she sits back in her chair, refusing to help you adjust yourself after what you've done. You grimace as you sit yourself up and point at the Captain,

"Are we having a blood drive? I might need to be excused."

Banner pushes his glasses up his nose, wringing his fingers from the fright you just gave him. Watching him, you give him an apologetic grin, glad you didn't scare the green guy out of him.

"Your body was rejecting Nat's blood," Banner starts as you glance at her.

Nat rolls her eyes, "You've always been picky."

Banner clears his throat, "You and Steve share the same type and a very similar mutation of the super soldier serum. So, his blood kept you from dying of blood loss." With a quiet nod, he takes the bag of blood and places it in a nearby medical refrigerator.

You raise your brows as he tells you this, quietly surprised that they went that far to save you. Steve sticks a straw in a juice box and empties it in one drink, handing you one as well. You're ready for some sugar, you can feel the lightness in your head every time you try to move.

"You're welcome," Steve grins at your silent thank you, watching you try to line the straw up with the foil.

You chuckle, "That was more than a cake, Rogers. You didn't have to do that," Nat gives up watching you helplessly fail at opening the juice box, ripping it from your hands and stabbing the straw in, "Thanks, mom."

She makes a disgusted face, shaking her head with a shiver, "Never, ever call me that again."

Smirking, you take a drink of the sweet apple juice and give her a wink. Tony, having recovered from his small heart attack, pops some almonds into his mouth, pointing at everyone.

"I'm sorry, are we just handing out thank you's to these three?" You give Tony your attention with a raised brow, "I let you use this high tech gear- that still had plastic on it - and I don't get a thanks? I told you Romanoff, we should've just dropped them off at the emergency room. "

"Always the modest one, Stark. I am humbled by your generosity," you tell him, watching him give a smirk, "I don't know if you guys meant to do this but this is starting to really feel like a team."

Nat reaches next to her seat as you see the chuckles from everyone, "The other two on the team got you snacks," raising her hands, you can see two boxes of your most favorite snacks in the world.

You crush your empty juice box in excitement to tear into those boxes, "Wanda poisoned them didn't she?"

Tony pats the mini fridge without glancing back at you, "I think she poisoned the juice boxes to be honest."

The clink of metal catches your attention, you peer over at Nat as she holds up a small circular can, "And she got you these?"

Vienna Sausages. You let out a soft chuckle as you take them in your palm. Slowly, you turn the blue can in your hands, clenching your jaw softly but feel the corner of your lip rise in a grin.

"Safe to say, she still hates you," Nat says, stealing one of your snacks and heads towards the door, "Get some more rest, I'm sure you'll be out of that bed from going stir crazy soon."

As always, Natasha was right. Your body sunk into your mattress and your mind was taken with a deeper sleep than it was accustomed to. There was a reason you sleep on the floor, it gave you an opportunity to wake up before nightmares plagued you. If you fell into a deep sleep, you'd be lost in them and wake in a tormented and panicked state.

The exhaustion in your body was too much for you after making the journey to your room with Steve's help. You told yourself just a short nap and you'd go down to the floor. You convinced yourself that you'd be okay. You were wrong, terribly wrong.

You wake with a start, your heart pounding in your chest as it sends unwelcome pain down into your side and thigh. Clutching your damp blankets, you try to roll to your side to keep sleeping, trying to ignore the visions in your head. You're terrified about what you will if you open your eyes, if what's you're seeing in your head will be happening on the outside.

All of the pain, the agony, and the blood. Your breath quivers in your throat as you feel the heat beneath the blankets grow with your sweating body. Slowly, your heart begins to calm and the images in your head disperse into blank darkness. Opening your eyes carefully, you release your bated breath as you can see the low light of the evening peeking from the curtains. Gently, you slide out of your bed, resting your sweating face in your hands.

Dull pain radiates through your whole body as you reach out for the pills left on your bedside table. Taking them as you chug a whole glass of water, you carefully push yourself up to your feet.

Holding a light hand to your side, you limp towards your dresser and pull out a new shirt. The one you're currently in is soaked through with sweat, reminding you of your violent nightmares. It takes you longer than you'd like to get it up and over your head, but you get it done.

Walking out your door, you guide your hand along the cold walls. Taking careful steps down the quiet hallways, you can see the radiating light of the conference room. You stop by the kitchen for another juice box pick me up and head towards the light. Peeking in, you count four people inside. Tony and Banner seem to have already left for the day. Nat is the first to notice you, watching you limp towards the room with the slightest shake of her head as she stands.

Opening the door for you, you slump into a seat with a sigh. Everyone is staring at you, wondering why the hell you're out of bed so soon. Nat's the only one who sits down and continues to work. She's seen you get back up and work with worse injuries. Though she’d like to patronize you and yell you that you don’t grow accustomed to gunshots and stab wounds, she saves her breath.

"You can continue, I'll catch up," you say.

Wanda lets out a scoff, "Are you kidding me right now?"

You glance at her, "Nope. I'm still this good looking."

Wanda shakes her head, nearly snapping the blue pen in her hand, 'You almost died and you think you can just waltz in here like nothing happened?"

"I was fine. I am fine. End of discussion."

"No, you dumbass!" She snaps at you, standing up sharply, "You lost four pints of blood!"

You raise your brows, "Wow, that's gotta be a record." Sucking the last of your juice, you notice the team is still carefully watching Wanda.

She stares at you, playing with the rings on her fingers. You look from her piercing stare, letting out a quiet huff. Nat glances at both of you gingerly as Steve and Sam try to stay on track but their eyes keep bouncing back to you two.

"I don't know why you keep getting pissed off. I didn't ask them to shoot at you! And it's not my fault you weren't paying attention."

"And I didn't ask you to jump in front of me!"

With a sigh, you rub your throbbing temples. The only thing you want to be doing right now is getting back to completing your contract, not arguing over who should have let who get shot. You throw your hands up, "Why didn't you move out of the way? You called me an idiot but I saved your life!"

Her head drops and you notice a look in Rogers' eyes, "That thing could've shot through you. I could have put up my shield if-."

"Well, it didn't. I'm not riddled with bullets on the side of the road, am I?" You shake your head as you stab another juice box, "Chill out, princess."

Sucking at the juice, the room becomes deathly quiet. Glancing up, you see her face contort as you finish your sentence, her knuckles turning white as she grips the chair she stands near. Rogers steps towards her, whispering something to her as your eyes catch her trembling lips.

Wanda shoves his comforting arm away and slams out of the room. She doesn't even try to insult you as she passes, you only heard the squeak of a sob in her throat. Nat rests her face in her hands, shaking it with a groan. Sam gives you a look that tells you that you just screwed up.

As Steve strides after Wanda you raise your brows, "What did I do?"

Sam stands, flipping through the datapad Steve left behind. Nat piles up her papers and speaks,

"Wanda had a twin. A brother. Pietro."

Sam slides the datapad across to you and you see a familiar face. Your throat dries as a sudden chill hits your chest with a heavy weight.

"He died the exact way you described. Trying to save his home from Ultron."

Swiping through the photos, you stop when you see a familiar lab. Strucker's prized pupils. They were related.

You lean your head back into the chair, your face pinching with regret as you let out a groan. Running your hands down your face roughly, you stare at the photo,

"Shit. I didn't know."

You glance up at Sam who has his arms crossed, a disappointed look on his face. He gives a little shrug, "We know you two don't see eye to eye. But, you two are going to have to learn to stop freaking yelling."

With a sigh, you pick at the dry skin around your finger, "You think she wants to rip my limbs off right now?"

Sam chuckles, "It's probably at a record high right now."

________________

You spent the rest of the day reading through the files. Reading about Strucker's experiments and not just on the twins. All of them, all of the volunteers and the horrors they were put through to only be discarded. You read about the mission the Avengers went on, their failure to catch Strucker. The creation of Ultron and the destruction of Sokovia. You read it all as you recovered in an arm chair in a quiet living room.

It was the first time you had been in the compound that it was actually quiet. Everyone was still resting from the mission and you were left alone. It was odd, you were used to a pair of eyes on you at all times. Yet here you were with free reign over the place. You could eat the snacks Sam thinks he hits so well behind the vegetables.

Nat comes around the corner, clutching her hoodie tightly as she yawns from the nap still on her brain. You adjust yourself again in the chair, unable to find a comfortable spot to rest. She stops, noticing your fidgeting state. Cocking a brow, you look towards her.

"What's wrong with you?" She asks, continuing to the kitchen and peering into the fridge.

You sigh, "I don't think I've gone longer than a day not being insulted."

Nat glances back and then around the room. Her face clenches with realization, "Weird. Wanda's door was open but she's not... I'm sure she's fine. You on the other hand," she starts to mix leftovers in a bowl, "need to go and rest."

You chuckle and slowly stretch against your stiff and protesting muscles, "Don't act like my mother if you don't want me to call you mom, Romanoff."

She sits near you, flipping on the television as you flip to the front of the files again. Her green eyes rest on it and you hear her sigh,

"Don't you have that memorized by now?"

You snap it shut, "How didn't I know they were related, Nat? God, that was a stupid thing to say."

Nat nods, "I wouldn't be surprised if she stabbed you and twisted the blade like you did next time she sees you."

"Ha ha," you glare at her," I thought we were friends. Don't friends make each other feel better?"

Flipping the tv on a cooking channel, Natasha lets out a scoff, "If you want to be my friend, you're getting bitter truth."

Sinking into the armchair further, you pull a blanket up and pop the footrest up, "I saved your sister. Give me some slack."

The two of you sat together for a while longer. Talking about the good old days that were really the worst days of your lives. Even through the rose colored glasses of nostalgia, you both laughed at the horribleness of being mere puppets for organization after organization.

At least with the Avengers, your opinion actually mattered. There wasn't an illusion of choice.

Eventually, you took Nat's advice to rest your eyes that were starting to droop. Laying on your floor in a sleeping bag, you wait for dreamless sleep to take you. As you listen to the clicking of your fan, there's a soft knock on your door. Slowly, you climb out from the cloth inside, taking a quick glance at the clock. It's close to midnight, your chest clenches as you hope there isn't an emergency as you turn the door handle quietly.

You're not sure what you expected but the redhead on the other side of the door was not the expectation in your head.

Wanda stands there, puffy eyes and hunched shoulders as she twirls away at her rings. You clench your brows at how small she looks in front of you. Usually so confident and purposeful when next to you, trying to constantly prove that the moment you provoke her you won't have any limbs. You watch her, wondering why of all the doors she stopped in front of yours.

She either hears your thoughts or realizes where she is because you watch her green eyes expand, "I'm sorry, I didn't... I shouldn't be here."

She starts to walk away, muttering something to herself. Everyone else is asleep or not in the mood to talk. You have nothing else going on and you know you're the reason behind her pain. Leaning out of the threshold, you quietly call after her before she can get around the corner. Wanda stops, glancing over her shoulder as you wave her back,

"Come inside. We can go back to hating each other tomorrow."

Both of you stare at each other in the darkness. Her eyes bouncing between the emptiness of the Compound and you. You don't move a muscle as you let her decide, you don't dare think a single thought either.

Eventually, her feet take her back to you and you step back inside of your room. As she closes the door behind her, you flick on a lamp and lock your eyes on her. Wanda holds herself carefully, glancing around your boring and nearly empty room, your bed covers tucked in tightly. There's nothing personal in here besides a journal that lays on your desk and the sleeping bag she gently toes. There's files from missions on your desk but your shelves are bare. Someone could easily mistake this room as empty with a quick glance.

Pulling out the chair beneath your desk, you push it gently towards her. You lean against your dresser, crossing your legs as you hold out your hand for her to sit. Wanda presses her lips in a thin line, continuing to scan the room again.

You grin as you try to lighten the air, "What's up, Maximoff? What can I, the mercenary who is a great therapist on the side, do for you?"

She closes her eyes with a heavy sigh, "You really think you're god's gift to the world don't you?"

You glance down at the floor, nodding a quiet apology. She's not here for your snarky comments. You've done enough of that. You've never been one to comfort another, though. That was never your job. There were times when something went wrong and you'd try giving solace but it wasn't your best ability.

You flick a glance to Wanda, "Is this about Pietro?"

Her eyes fling to yours as his name leaves your lips. Tears fill her eyes as you watch her hands clench tightly, chest rising against her rough breathing. Carefully eyeing her, you watch her head tilt to the side,

"What did you just say?"

Her scathing tone sends shiver down your spine but you point towards your desk, "I read the files. I know... I know Pietro died. From Ultron."

You realize the head tilt was a warning for you to shut up because the second mention of his name sends you backwards. Her palms slam into your chest, her magic rippling out as the red in her eyes darken against her scowl.

The back of your head slams against the wall as you grip at the invisible grip on your neck. She leans into you, her scowl shaking with anger and pain, the tears visible now,

"Don't ever say that name in front of me again, do you understand?" The magic around your neck squeezes as her words drip with her accent, "You do not taint his name by speaking it!"

Your back is lifted from the wall and slammed back with her yell. Your legs collapse under you as you fall to the floor, heat exploding from your wounds and a tightness in your throat. As the red glow in your room dims, you watch as Wanda crumbles into a tight ball in the middle of the floor. She grips her hair tightly, softly rocking herself on her heels as you hear the high pitched wails of her sobs.

You don't move, only watch from your pained position as you slowly breathe in and out. Pressing your palm over your lips, you watch with a weight in your chest that you had ignored for years. Wanda quiets as she wipes her eyes.

"You killed them. You buried them," she whispers as she stares at the ground, "You weren't there but all of those people who died, those volunteers, you did that. I blame you. If you didn't fulfill those goddamn contracts..."

Grimacing as you sit yourself up, you stare vacantly at the wall, "Someone else would've."

Wanda sucks in a breath, looking up at the ceiling as she shakes her head, "This is the part where you apologize."

"If I didn't someone else would have. Me apologizing doesn't change anything." You keep the cycle going, you push everything down. The guilt, the shame, the loneliness. The minute you apologize, the minute you think for a second that what you did was the wrong thing, you lose. You break.

Wanda shakes her head slowly, grinning to herself. She must've thought this would've gone a different way and now she realizes how wrong she was, how silly she was to think you'd apologize. Wanda stands, pulling out a piece of paper from her hoodie. Stepping towards you, she drops it into your lap.

"Then this is the part where you leave."

You hold the paper in the lamp light and sigh. It's the wire receipt.

"You're a waste of air. You are not one of us, okay? You're just some random asshole who got dragged into all of this!" Wanda breathes in carefully, rubbing her forehead. "So take your stupid money, get a taxi and leave."

Clenching your jaw, you hold the piece of paper up for her to take, "I signed a contract."

The laugh that comes from her lips sends shivers down your spine, "You're not even here because it's the right thing. You're just here because you signed on a dotted line. God! I'd say you're unbelievable but I'm not surprised."

"Hey! I didn't sign up for a lecture, especially not one from you!"

Wanda whips around as you slowly climb to your feet, causing you to flinch in preparation for another attack. She notices and takes a step back before yelling, "Then why are you still here!"

"Because I'm obligated to be!" you shout, balling up the paper and throwing it at the door.

"Why!" She slams her hands into your chest over and over as her voice cracks, "It's a piece of paper! No one will care if you leave and just die!"

You grip her hands as she tries to hit you again, "You're the first mistake that's come back!"

Your face falls as you realize the words you've spoken, dropping your eyes from her wide eyes. Clenching your jaw, you let her limp arms fall as you step away from her. Kicking at the ground, you rub your face violently as you try to calm your racing heart. There's a pit in your stomach that you haven't felt for years. All of these emotions are reaching their peak and all you can do is let out an involuntary laugh.

"I've been doing this for a long time," you say as you squint your eyes and find your words carefully, "My choices never caught me and looked me in the eye. I did my job and that. Was. It." You hit your thigh with each solid word, "I never had to think about it again."

Running your fingers along your nose, you breathe out a shaky breath before opening your eyes. Wanda is watching you, having stepped a few steps away from you. You raise your brows, waiting for her furious retaliation but she quietly sighs.

"It's too late to fix what you've done. My brother is dead. And now I'm this witch."

You glance quickly to her, watching her eyes flicker to your door. Your lips part but all you can do is shut it into a frown. Without another glance to you, she starts to walk towards the door. Watching her walk away, you place your hands on your waist and mutter to yourself. Wanda stops and looks over at you, at the haunted look on your face.

"I lied."

She turns to face you, arms crossed in front of her as she waits for you to speak. Sucking in a deep breath, you glance up from your hanging head,

"My choices have always caught me. I just... ignored them. I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes I see them. The ones I've killed with my own hands," you grip your waist tightly as you swing your eyes to hers, "The ones I've killed by my choices."

You wipe at your mouth, shaking your head with disgust, "You know, I almost died once. My fault, of course," you chuckle darkly and pinch the bridge of your nose, "But uh... I wished for a long time that they had just let me die. Didn't stitch me back up. Let my heart stop when it did. And then I went out on my first solo mission."

You bite down on your tongue, realizing none of this is going to do any good. Glancing up with a sigh, you're half expecting Wanda to have left already. Instead, she's sunk down on your bed and watches you with eyes that search for something. As your eyes rest on hers, you notice the slight raise of her brows, revealing she's waiting for you to talk. You oblige.

"It was a hit. No witnesses, so civilians weren't off limits," you clear your throat as you carefully sit down into your chair, "I did it. Not an ounce of conscience, there was only the job. And as I left, it started to rain."

Wanda contorts her face in confusion, watching you lean onto your shaking knees, "It was the first time I had felt rain in years. I just stood there, letting it fall over my skin. I had felt pain every day of my life but right then? All I could feel were those drops along my skin. Washing away the blood. Washing away my deeds."

You chuckle at how stupid you're sounding as you run your finger along the calluses of your hand, eyeing the scars on your arms, remembering the scars on your body.

"I know that didn't happen. I just... I had been told every day what to do, what to say, what to think, what to feel. That the moment I became a mercenary, saw the world for my own, I could choose my own life. I could choose my jobs. But I was lost without a moral compass," you glance up at Wanda with a soft grin that tries to hold the stinging in your eyes, "But, you know that already."

Wanda nods, silent as you stand up without another word. You slide your journal from the desk into your hands, opening your dresser as you pile some clothes in your arms. Resting your hand on the new dent in your wall, you can feel the tightness in your stomach, the flatness of your stare.

Clenching your brow, you turn to her, "I know you don't trust me. You've told me enough that you want to rib off my limbs. But, I really am sorry for what happened. Maybe if I had died that day you'd be better off."

You give a small grin but you can't hide the grimace on your face as you think of all the others you've affected. It overwhelms you just to even think about your repercussions. Stopping at the door, you peer back at her frozen state,

"You can stay in here if you wish. Trash the place, whatever. I haven't slept in the weight room yet."

As you grab the sleeping bag from the floor and toss it over your shoulder, Wanda lets out a breath, her choked cry freezes your steps. You glance back to see her quietly wiping her eyes.

"Just one thing," you say, turning as you hold onto the door handle. She doesn't look but you keep going, "what else did you see in my head?"

This grabs her attention as she gently looks at you, "I... it was hard at first. I wasn't expecting... so much pain. The regret."

You clench your jaw, all the things you wished to never give the light of day. To try to live blissfully in a perfect life where you controlled it. Everything was waiting like wolves at the door.

"Your desire to just... to stop everything."

You dig your toe into the ground, you shouldn't have asked. You bite down hard on your lip, stopping its trembling.

"How do you keep going?"

Her voice is so quiet you almost miss what she's saying to you. Glancing into her tired eyes, you quietly pat the clothes in your arms. You'd never thought about what keeps you going, let alone had someone ask. Yet, as you look at her, she's not asking just because she's curious. She's asking for herself. A question you know she's asked herself a million times, why keep going?

Nodding in the realization, you kneel down carefully next to her, grimacing at the dull pain that radiates through you. Sucking in a calming breath you look at her, "I spent a long time, I struggled a long time. I didn't want to keep going. But you just... no matter what happens, you just keep finding something to fight for."

Wanda's eyes linger on yours for a moment, hearing the sincerity in your words as your voice breaks. You swallow tightly, "I'm still trying to find something."

You bow your head slightly, hiding your pained grimace as you stand,

"Goodnight Maximoff."

As you begin to shut the door, the softest glow of sunset red warps around the door and stops it. You open your stinging eyes and peer back inside as Wanda slowly looks to you. There's a tightness in your chest as you know she can see your trembling chin and sagging shoulders.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

___________________ Part 6

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!):

@iliketozoneout @lostandsearching @lynxwhispurrs @rooskaya-yelena @yeeterthekeeper @aos22 @sxfwap @women-am-i-right @marie45019 @lucydiibi @raincloudtoyoursunshine @olsensnpm @cristin-rjd @idkbubs @yeetus-thyself @hello-mtf @royalityofmultifandom @nfatale05 @cyberbonesworld @when-wolves-howl @333hhm

[mummybear]

Finally, I’ve Found You.

Words: 4938

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, ABO, Protective Sam, Possessive Dean, Claiming, Scenting, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Control, Hair Pulling, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, knotting....Think that’s it :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Bingo Square: @spnkinkbingo - Free Space - ABO Soul Mates

Summary: When your protective Alpha best friend takes you to meet his family, things don’t go quite to plan. You end up finding something, or someone, you’ve been looking for your whole life. 

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr Thank you again babe! :D

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Being an Omega in this part of the world was nothing short of a nightmare - Omegas were treated as slaves and fuck toys for Alphas. When your parents had died, you were even more scared than ever before. Being left alone in this world was terrifying, you hadn’t told anyone, not until you’d met Sam Winchester. He was an Alpha through and through,” - at least, that’s what he let the outside world believe. To you he was your best friend, and your protector. He was a complete sweetheart, even when you knew it was hard for him not to give into his nature. 

The most that he ever did was snap at you, but that was only when his rut hit particularly hard or your heat or his rut started before either of you were ready. Even then though, he would lock himself away, or he would lock you away and keep you safe, until those days passed. You wanted to want Sam in that way, and you knew he felt the same, but neither of you had ever been able to bring yourselves to do anything. 

There were times you’d talked about it at length; the possibility of you being his, but you’d always come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t right, for either of you, and it wouldn’t be fair. You were worried though, because if Sam wasn’t supposed to be yours, then who was? And were they even half as sweet, hot and caring as your best friend? You only knew what you’d been told by your other Omega friends, once you found your mate, you would just know.

“You ready to go?” Sam asks as he walks into your room, with a big excited grin on his face.

“Sam, are you sure about this?” you sigh as you finish zipping up your suitcase for the weekend.

“Y/N, trust me! My family are going to love you.” 

“You know I trust you, more than anyone on the planet, but I don’t know if It’s such a good idea. I’m not exactly special, I’m just like any other Omega,” you sigh as he takes the suitcase from your grip, and you hear him huff quietly.

“I’ve told you before, that isn’t how any of my family see it. Besides, you’re my best friend, they know how much you’ve been there for me. Even if you are a giant pain my ass. Now come on, stop complaining,” he winks at you over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow him out of the door.

“Fine, but you better not leave me on my own,” you huff out, locking the door behind you.

-

Luckily the drive doesn’t take as long as you thought it might, and all too soon you’re pulling up to a gorgeous home, with perfectly kept lawn and two classic cars in the driveway. You wring your hands in your lap, feeling the nerves creeping up on you even more than you’d expected. You can feel the need to be sick pressing against the back of your throat. Sam must notice because seconds later you feel a big hand on top of both of yours, and you feel a slight sense of calm start to settle over you.

“Sam, I told you not to use those Alpha powers of yours on me,” you laugh slightly, feeling grateful that he doesn’t always listen to you.

“Y/N, you’re shaking and you’re breathing too hard. I don’t want you passing out on me, just breathe,” he smiles gently, the complete picture of calm, as always.

It takes a few moments, but you finally manage to get your breathing under control, and your heart stops racing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” you swallow thickly, climbing out of the car and following Sam as he pulls your suitcases out.

Sam looks you over and frowns, “now you mention it, I’ve never seen you like this. Did we work out the days wrong? Is your heat due or something?”

You think on it for a moment as Sam leads you to his parents house, and over to the front door.

“I, uh, no. I only had one a two weeks ago. You know I only have one a month, it can’t be that.” 

Before Sam can respond the door is pulled open, and a grinning couple fill the doorway. 

“Sam! It’s great to see you son.” The older man steps forward and embraces Sam in a tight hug, that Sam returns with a big grin. Before turning to the older woman and doing the same. It’s clear to see they’re his mom and dad. The family resemblance is beyond obvious.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N this is my mom and dad, Mary and John Winchester,” Sam introduces fondly.

“Great to finally meet you, Y/N! Sam has told us all about you,” John smiles warmly, giving you a quick hug which you return nervously. 

“We really have heard so much about you, thank you so much for looking after our baby,” Mary grins, and pulls you into another hug.

“Now, come on inside you two,” Mary tells you both, moving aside so you can follow Sam into the house.

“Sammy!” You hear from down the hall, and you follow Sam further into the house, watching as Sam is embraced by a slightly shorter man with sandy hair. You smile at the display of affection. it’s so nice to see Sam surrounded by family, he’d always spoken about them, and you’re guessing this must be the brother he’d told you countless stories about, Dean.

Suddenly Dean looks up and his eyes lock with yours over Sam’s shoulder, you feel like a rug has been pulled from under your feet and you stumble back a little. Your heart thuds painfully in  your chest, and you swallow thickly around the lump that’s lodged in your throat. You bite your lip as his nostrils flair and feel yours do the same as his scent hits you, and it’s like you can see his eyes darken before you.

Your words are stuck in your throat, until Mary comes to your side and wraps her arms around you, “Y/N? Are you feeling okay, sweetie. Do you need to sit down?” 

Her voice sounds a little distant, like you have cotton wool lodged in your ears, but you hear her faintly all the same.

“Yes, please. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” you all but whisper, tearing your gaze away from Dean, as Sam pulls away from him to come and stand by your side.

Mary and Sam lead you into the living room and help you get settled on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Mary checks again, as she sends Sam away to help his father outside with the grill.

“Y-Yeah, I think so. I think I just need a minute, long drive,” you explain as you try and reassure her, and she nods in understanding.

“Okay honey, if you need anything we’ll just be outside okay?” 

“Thank you, Mrs Winchester,” you sigh, leaning back against the soft sofa, and you let your eyes close for a moment. You feel her squeeze your hand and the sofa dips as she steps away.

You suck in a deep breath and your eyes snap open, as an unusual but tantalising mix of scents fill your nose. It’s like leather, spice, oil and something you don’t quite recognise. Then your gaze falls on the door you’d come through earlier, and on him.

You sit a little straighter and shift awkwardly in your seat.

“Hi, you must be, Dean. I’m Y/N,” you practically whisper as he walks further into the room.

He looks you up and down and licks his lips, his gaze heated, like he can see through your clothes and it makes you shiver.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” his voice is almost a growl as he talks, and he takes the seat right next to you, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You take his hand and your eyes lock with his, a complete calmness settles over you and you can feel yourself leaning into him. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he repositions his hand, so that his fingers are moving between yours, intertwining your hand with his own.

“Alpha,” you whimper leaning in closer, following his lead, until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“Omega,” he practically growls, scooting his body closer to you and breathing deeply, as his free arm curls around your waist tightly, almost possessively.

“There’s something about you… I don’t understand. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” you mutter, almost disbelieving, like if you say it too loud he’ll disappear. 

“Neither have I, but I can smell it. I know you’re mine.” 

He says it with such finality, and you want to believe him because, fuck, he’s perfect. Gorgeous, strong, great family. But beyond that you don’t know anything about him, you’ve literally just met, but something tells you that you can trust him, that he’s right, and you are his and he’s yours.

“B-But we’ve just met, Dean,” you stutter, as the hand gripping your waist slips just beneath your t-shirt and brushes your skin.

“Don’t care. You’re mine, I know you are. I can feel it, I can smell it, and I know you can too,” he growls as your free hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.

“I can feel it, in every bone in my body, Dean. But we can’t,” you protest weakly, trying to pull away, but he holds your body tight against his.

He pulls back and looks at your face, “Is it Sam?” he huffs, and you can hear the unease in his voice, you can tell he’s forcing down a possessive growl.

“Why would it be anything to do with Sam? He’s my best friend, and that’s it. We both feel the same,” you sigh as he pulls away further, and you groan as your stomach rolls painfully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ll let you rest, just pretend this never happened, okay?” he grits out, voice shaking as he backs away slowly.

“No, Dean, don’t. I didn’t mean you had to go!” you call after him, but before you can get up he’s already left, and you hear the back door slam closed.

-

Dinner had been really great, full of great conversation and stories of Sam and Dean when they were younger, not to mention the amazing food. It only made you more confused as to why Sam never cooked more often at home. But after ten minutes, something had changed with Dean, and he’d gone to eat in his room, claiming that he had to make a call for work.

You’re all now sitting in the living room, while Mary shows you photos of Sam and Dean when they were babies. When suddenly a wave of pain hits you from nowhere, and you grip Sam’s arm tightly.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, and he looks really worried as he takes you in.

“No. Something’s wrong,” you whimper, wiping at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Sam carefully helps you to your feet and you cling onto him tightly. 

“Mine.” Comes a growl from the doorway, snapping everyone's attention away from you and towards Dean.

“Dean? What the hell do you mean ‘Mine’?” Sam questions defensively, putting himself between you and his brother, pushing your body behind him. 

“Alpha,” you whine, reaching for Dean, and Sam has to hold you tighter against his side, so you don’t fall to the floor.

Everyone seems to be looking between you and Dean, before John groans quietly, “Fuck, I shoulda noticed earlier. Sammy you need to let her go, son,” he tells his youngest son gently, as he walks towards you and Sam. 

Sam looks at his father as though he’s gone mad and holds you tighter.

“No way, clearly Dean’s lost his damn mind, he’s not going anywhere near her. I’ve kept her safe for years, but I didn’t think I’d have to protect her from my own family.” 

Your eyes lock with Dean’s and you whimper as he starts to walk towards you, feeling the slick gathering between your thighs.

“Sam. Listen to me, Dean must be her mate. You said yourself that Y/N isn’t due a heat, right?” John asks calmly, stepping between his boys.

“Not for another two weeks, why? What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Sam exclaims with disbelief.

“Well, your brother has literally just had his rut. So by rights, he was safe, unless…” John trails off, maybe hoping Sam is understanding.

“Sam, please. I need him,” you moan pathetically, as John growls at his eldest son warning him to step back, in an effort to calm the situation down.

“It must be another heat, Y/N, it’s the only explanation. You’re not thinking clearly-” you unintentionally cut Sam off, when a scream rips through your throat and you double over in pain, with Sam’s arms the only thing stopping you from hitting the floor.

Dean whimpers and looks around his father, locking eyes with his brother, looking like a scared puppy.

“Sammy, please. Let me help her,” Dean groans, running his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“No. I’m the one who looks after her, not you,” Sam growls defensively.

You’re starting to lose consciousness, and your eyes are heavy, sweat dripping from your forehead. You’ve never felt anything this intense in your entire life. Suddenly a smaller pair of arms wrap around you and help you sit back on the sofa, you look up at Mary, and she’s barely in focus. 

“Honey, I need you to focus, look at me okay.” 

“Can’t, Mary. I’m so tired,” you slur, feeling the sofa dip the other side of you.

“Doll, listen to me, you can’t fall asleep, you’re burning up.” Comes John’s deep voice from your other side, and you lean into him when he presses a cool rag against your forehead.

“‘mega, tell me what you need, let me help,” Dean whispers, carefully cupping your cheeks in his big warm hands. You force your eyes open, and you can see the pain in his eyes, and the tick in his jaw as though he’s clenching his teeth.

“Alpha, please. Need you, don’t go,” you beg desperately, reaching out and grabbing his shirt in your fists. Dean’s hands cover yours and he tries to hush you gently, and you notice that you’re both alone in the room now. Your legs are still like jelly, so when you try and stand you practically collapse into Dean’s arms.

You nuzzle at his neck and purr as his scent surrounds you, feeling your vision clear slightly as your lips press against his skin.

“Not here,” Dean growls, his voice deep, husky and thick with need as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style, putting a stop to your attempt to push his shirt from his shoulders.

You clench your thighs together as another wave of arousal grips you, and you feel Dean’s fingers tighten against your body as he carries you up the stairs. When you reach the second door on the left, Dean walks inside and then kicks the door closed behind him. He heads over to the large bed and lays you down carefully, before sitting down beside you, and brushing the sweat soaked hair away from your face. The familiar feeling of your heat coursing through your body is even stronger than it’s ever been before, and you can feel yourself curling around Dean as soon as he lays down beside you. 

“It hurts, Dean,” you whimper, hooking one of your legs over his body as he wraps his arms around you and you find yourself rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to find some kind of release. 

“Shh, sweetheart, just breathe. You’re makin’ it real hard to be a gentleman right now,” his voice is practically a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, “I don’t want a gentleman, I want my Alpha. I want you.”

Dean’s arms tighten around you and you feel the growl in his throat right before you hear it, “Fuck you smell good ‘mega. I could smell you as soon as you walked through that door. Haven't stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on you.” 

“I don’t understand how this all happened so fast, but I know you’re my Alpha, I can feel it,” you whisper as he cups your cheek and you feel relief flood your body when he pulls you into a kiss. 

The kiss starts off careful and slow but quickly becomes more passionate, he gently pushes your hands back against the mattress, and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from touching him. 

“Stay there, baby, let your Alpha make it better,” he whispers against your lips between intense kisses that seem to be turning your body to liquid. Dean’s hands are exploring every inch of you, his touch is firm and a little rough, but it’s just what you need right now. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when he starts tugging at your clothes.

When he pulls away from your lips to look into your eyes, you gasp for breath, quickly realising only your panties remain. Dean hums in approval, cupping your breasts in his big hands and he gently flicks over your nipples with his thumbs, biting his lip as he watches your face for a reaction. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel more of him.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whine needily as Dean runs his fingers over your soaked panties. 

Dean chuckles deeply, breath hot against your soft skin, and you shiver as he nips at your neck, “you want me to bite down just here,” he nips a little harder for emphasis, and you can’t help but moan as you struggle to nod. You arch your hips and moan his name as he pushes your panties aside, and he eases two thick calloused fingers inside your soaked entrance, slowly edging back and forth until they’re fully inside you. 

“Mmm, of course you do, my needy little Omega. You want me to claim what’s mine? Want me to fuck you until you can’t see straight, and you’re coming all over my knot?” You can tell his instincts are taking over, his voice is deeper, and his touch is almost bruising, but in the best way.

Dean rips your panties away from your body with his free hand. You barely even feel the sting of them ripping, only the slight pressure on your clit as he pulls them up and off of you. Then he leans over you, and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, pressing his free hand to your stomach so everything intensifies as he picks up a steady pace. Then his hand shifts and his thumb presses against your clit, your hands immediately reach out, and you grab hold of the first thing you can. Your nails dig into his biceps as you hold on tight, feeling the muscle bulge and relax as he pushes towards release, the look in his eyes makes you want to give in to whatever he says.

There's just something about him being fully clothed and fully in control, while you’re naked and at his mercy that makes the Omega in you purr appreciatively. 

Your stomach tightens and your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pushes you towards your first orgasm. You’re breathing heavy and writhing beneath him when suddenly he pulls his fingers free, and your body slumps against the bed, with a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You whimper as you look up at him, wishing you felt a little less pathetic, because you would kick his ass if he was one of the Beta’s you’d slept with before. But this is an Alpha - your Alpha.

Dean chuckles, leaning back as he starts to pull off his clothes, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my beautiful Omega, don’t make all of those pretty little noises right now. I promise I’ll make it better. But the first time you come for me I want it to be with my cock inside you, stretching out this tight little cunt.” You moan at his filthy words as he throws his shirt across the room, he’s perfect, and you can’t stop staring, unable to believe how lucky you are.

“Please, Alpha. I need to come so bad, wanna feel your knot.” The desperation in your voice is clear as you cling to the sweat soaked duvet under you.

His eyes lock with yours as a filthy and cocky smirk curls at his lips. You watch with bated breath as he pulls off his jeans and boxers, and his thick cock is freed from its confines.

“Hmm, am I your first Alpha, sweetheart? Your only Alpha? Is this the first knot you’re gonna take in that perfect little pussy?” Dean sounds far too pleased with himself as he asks those questions, but in the moment they only make you squirm more.

He strokes his cock slowly in one hand as he pushes his other hand between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit torturously slow. You don’t want to stop looking at him, but your entire body is shaking with need. You clench your thighs around his hand, trying your best to stave off your orgasm.

“Dean, please. I can’t hold it,” you whine desperately. 

To your relief his hand falls away, and you suck in a breath, feeling the heat of his body pressed against you forces you to open your eyes.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, voice husky and thick with need, and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your wet entrance.

You can feel his thighs quivering against your own, it’s pretty obvious he’s holding himself back. You meet his eyes and swallow hard, knowing that you couldn’t go back now, even if you wanted to. You need him, you can feel it deep down.

“Don’t you want me on my hands and knees, Alpha?” you ask, voice breathy, and you shiver feeling his fingers digging into your thighs.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you here, ‘mega, don’t push me,” his voice has lowered to a growl, and you know you’re poking the bear, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, you need him to lose control.

You slowly drag your hand down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch, and you hear him suck in a breath when your hand wraps around his thick length.

“I can take it, Alpha, want you to fuck me like you mean it.” Dean grunts as your hand moves over him and you turn your head to the side, showing him your perfectly clear skin, free of any scars and stroke your fingers down the side.

“When you claim me, right here-” you don’t get time to finish your sentence, because Dean has pulled out of your grip and his rough hands flip you over and force you on your stomach.

You barely have time to suck in a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hips. Dean spreads your legs and the head of his wide cock presses inside you slowly, but then his hips snap forward, and you scream in pleasure as you lose your balance. Your fingers curl around your pillow and your back arches painfully, as he pulls out almost all of the way and snaps his hips forward again. The grip on your hips tightens, to the point you’re sure there will be bruises left behind.

“How’s that, my needy little Omega?” he growls, wrapping his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back harshly. You can’t speak, you can hardly breathe. 

“Ah fuck! Dean, please let me come!” you scream feeling your pussy spasm around his cock when he picks up a steady rhythm, deep and slow, and so hard you feel like your body is going to snap in half.

“Wait. I decide where I claim you, is that fucking clear?” he growls snapping his hips forward roughly.

“Fuck! Yes. Whatever you want, Alpha,” you whine obediently, impossibly close to the edge of a mind shattering orgasm. But even your body is refusing to disobey your Alpha.

“Mmm, good girl. C’mere,” he pants, tugging you back against him by your hair and nuzzling your neck. You don’t struggle, in fact, you find yourself relaxing against him.

“You wanna come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, Dean, I need it,” you whine breathlessly, feeling his free hand roam your body slowly, as he cock continues to thrust into you teasingly.

“Then play with your clit while I fuck you. I wanna watch you fall apart, my desperate little ‘mega.” 

The sheets are soaked beneath you both, his rut and your heat are in full effect now, and you know you’d do anything he asked.

You drop your shaking hand between your legs and start to rub circles into your clit, feeling your pussy clamp down around his throbbing cock. You cry out when Dean starts to pick up his pace, his thrusts are precise, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot. 

“Ah! Alpha, right there!” you practically scream as he roughly tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck and you feel his teeth gently tug at your skin.

The threat of him claiming you is enough to send you hurtling into the most powerful orgasm of your life. Your body shakes in his arms as he continues to fuck into you, your tight wet heat gripping him like a vice. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Dean’s wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him because you’ve gone limp in his arms.

“So sexy when you come ‘mega, such a perfect little pussy. You want it, baby girl? You want me to make you mine?” he grits out breathlessly. Your head is swimming as you feel another orgasm burning in your stomach, but his words are enough to make you moan in agreement. Dean chuckles, pushing the sweat soaked hair over one of your shoulders, “c’mon, ‘mega, need to hear you say it.” 

You tilt your head to the side again and feel his tongue against your skin, “take me, claim me, Alpha. Wanna be yours.”

“Oh fuck,” he moans sucking hard at your neck, “gonna make me come ‘mega, gonna fill you up,” his voice is a broken rasp as he fucks up into you, his pace brutal. 

He lets out an animalistic growl when his own release finally hits, and sinks his teeth into your neck, then you feel his knot swell inside you. His knot catches against your entrance as his cock pulses inside you, pulling another scream from you as your second orgasm shoots through your entire body. Gasping, you both crash down onto the mattress, with Dean’s body wrapped around you. 

Your bodies shake against one another as Dean pulls his teeth carefully from your neck, and licks softly at his claim mark. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you take a deep shaky breath, as a feeling of being complete finally settles over you. 

Dean presses kisses along your shoulder and brushes his fingers through your damp hair. 

“Remind me to buy Sammy a house for bringing you to dinner,” Dean chuckles, his voice hoarse from your time together. 

You giggle and lace your fingers with his, his hand feels so big against yours but it feels right.

“Just a house, huh?” you tease playfully.

He presses a soft kiss to your claim mark and he drags his teeth over your ear lobe, “mmm you’re right, maybe a mansion,” he whispers, every word punctuated with a soft kiss and roaming hands. You can’t help but be a little nervous, this is all so sudden. What if he changes his mind about you?

His cock slips free suddenly as his knot retracts, and he turns you in his arms, so that you’re facing him. The soft smile on his face is completely disarming, and you can’t help but smile back.

“I can practically hear you thinkin’, ‘mega. I promise we’re gonna figure all of this out.” 

You sigh softly and lean in, kissing him for the first time in what feels like forever. When you pull away his intense green eyes meet yours. 

“It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust you, Dean. You and me, it just feels right,” you tell him, and the emotion you’re feeling causes your voice to catch a little.

“That’s because it is. So, what do you say we get ourselves ready and go down to see everyone?, I think we have a little explaining to do, my beautiful Omega,” he whispers tenderly, cupping your cheek and presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Probably a good idea, Alpha,” you agree, feeling a blush come to your cheeks as your fingers graze over the claim mark on your neck. You weren’t expecting your life to change so drastically in a day, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

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