#and now they’re torturing me every time I sleep

[flaggermuser]

When You Loved Me

1,209 words || Fluff, Spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma ||

Inspired by the idea that at least one doctor would have formed an attachment.

Thank you to @bisexualhomelander for being my beta

They're nearly all dead, there's just one loose end that Homelander needs to tie up.

So he stands outside the unassuming house, ready to cross the final name off his list, which he found in an old abandoned file documenting his ‘development’.

It was a stroke of luck that he found you - it seemed as if Vogelbaum scrubbed you from all official records.

Determined to finish what he's started, he knocks on your door and waits impatiently, ready to strike you down where you stand.

“I’m coming!”

He freezes, his entire body tensing up as your voice unlocks memories from his time in the lab, ones buried deep somewhere at the back of his mind.

A frightened and hurt little boy being held, being comforted after the incinerator and the other horrible forms of torture he was subjected to.

“Shhh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here. Shall we read another story?”

The door slowly opens and there you are. 

Now that he's seen your face, the memories are more vivid. There’s still that kindness in your eyes, the one he saw every night before he went to sleep. 

At least, for a few months before you disappeared.

“Hello, John.” Your smile is still as warm as he remembers. “My, how you’ve grown. Come in, come in!”

With trepidation, he slowly enters, unsure of what he’ll find. It’s homely, filled with curiosities and everything he’s ever associated with a true American home. As he follows you into your living room, he notices some of the pictures on the wall with you and your former colleagues at Vought, some of whom he’s already killed.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of milk would be nice,” he replies, trying his best to smile while conflicting thoughts swirl in his mind.

He was so convinced that you were like the others that had you not spoken, he would have killed you the moment you opened the door.

“Well take a seat, I’ll be right back.”

He takes a seat on your couch, hands in his lap, looking around the room again. That’s when he notices the mantelpiece, covered in photos and newspaper clippings, all in ornate frames.

Not of your family - of him. They’re all of him.

Taking pride of place in the middle of the mantelpiece is a picture from several years ago.

“Don't worry John, it's just a camera. All I'm going to do is take a picture of just the two of us. I promise it won't hurt.”

He's sat on your lap, your arms around him, holding him tightly, protectively, a smile on your face.

He’s smiling too. He’s happy. He’s with you.

They took you from me.

“Here we go,” your return snaps him back to reality, his eyes softening as he notices the glass of milk in your hand and a plate of cookies in your other, settling it down on the coffee table in front of him.

It’s such a sweet gesture.

You take a seat in a nearby armchair, “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

After all these years, you’re still this beacon of absolute kindness.

“Do I call you John or Homelander?”

“John.”

How did I forget how lovingly you said my name? How did I forget you?

“I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so well. And look at you, you’re The Homelander! Leader of the Seven!”

His lower lip quivers, trying to keep himself together but it’s proving harder. Your praise comes from a place of pure love, something he’s never experienced or at least, he can’t remember experiencing.

“I see you’ve noticed the mantel. I know I must seem mad but I’ve been following your progress.”

You cared about me, you care about me, it’s all genuine.

“You were so young when I last saw you, with that lovely little smile.”

You reach out to take his hand but he pulls away, only so he can take off his glove. It looks so small in his, he knows if he squeezes just a little, all your bones would be crushed to dust.

But he won't.

“The things we did. Oh John, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I didn’t do anything to save you. I should've stood up to Vogelbaum, I should've protected you."

Saved him, protected him - the regret is written all over your face.

They regretted their actions too, only after he reminded them. Then they apologised but it was too late for them, maybe it’s still too late for you. 

He squeezes your hand, trying to comfort you. 

“You know, I think about you every day. I wanted to reach out but I figured Vogelbaum would have any attempt at contact blocked, especially from me. All because I chose to be human.”

Human. They were human too and they tortured me.

It’s clear that is a sore subject for you, nowhere near as painful for him but the fact it makes you sad somehow makes him feel better. It shows that you cared.

“They fired me for ‘interfering with the experiment’ but how could I not?! You were scared, you were crying and they left you all alone in that horrid room.”

The bad room.

“I couldn’t just leave you there to cry yourself to sleep. So I volunteered to take the night shift. Do you remember… remember the first time?”

His jaw tightens, desperately searching his mind for even the tiniest hint of a recollection yet all of the torment he was subjected to has buried everything deeper. 

“You were terrified that I was going to hurt you, your eyes glowed red and you trembled. I knew you didn’t want to hurt me but you would if you had to.”

You understood.

“It took you a few minutes to realise I wouldn’t hurt you - I think it was the books under my arm that convinced you I wasn’t a threat.”

A single flash - “Would you like me to read you a story?”

“I sat down on your bed, you sat on my lap and we read story, after story, after story. Until you didn’t want me to read anymore, you just wanted me to hold you. So I did exactly that.”

He desperately wants to remember, he needs to remember. 

“Then Vogelbaum found out, I must have forgotten to turn the cameras off and I was removed from the project. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve marched right back in there and demanded to take you. But I didn’t.”

But you’re here now. They’re all dead but you’re still here.

“I forgive you,” it slips out of his mouth, however, this time it’s heartfelt. He means this without malice.

You’re the parent he’d always wanted, living in a house he always dreamed of, serving him milk and cookies like he’s still that young boy you cared about.

Maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe there could be something here, born from the ashes of your past sin and his trauma.

Sniffling, you wipe away your tears, tightening your grip on his hand. When the smile returns, it’s affectionate and all for him.

“I want you to know, John. I need you to know, that you’ll always have a place here and in my heart."

[ivegotyourbackbuddie]

Waiting for a scene where Buck and Eddie are discussing their dating woes at the station, and Buck jokes, “Maybe we should spare the Los Angeles population and just date each other.”

And while Eddie laughs it off, Hen swoops in to say, “No, I think you might be onto something.”

Eddie suddenly stops laughing as Buck goes, “Huh?”

“Why not just date each other?” Hen asks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Chimney laughs, “Hell, you’re already practically a couple.”

And while Buck and Eddie stammer out no we’re not and it’s not like that. Chimney crosses his arms and looks at Buck. “What was it that you said to me and Maddie about how we were already a couple? Something about how ‘you always are talking and texting, you do karaoke together, you do buff-fridays together, and you finish each other’s sentences…’”

“You remember that with a shockingly high amount of detail,” Buck says to try to turn the conversation away from him.

“And Buck and I don’t do ‘Buff-Fridays’ together…”

“We do pasta and a movie with Chris,” Buck says, finishing Eddie’s sentence.

Hen and Chimney exchange a look.

Eddie frowns and says, “Okay, we do those things, but how are we any different from the two of you?”

Chimney deadpans, “When I first met Hen, I definitely didn’t want to sleep with her.”

“Hey! Maddie promised not to tell you that!”

“And she didn’t,” Chimney says with a smirk, “but you just confirmed my suspicions.”

Hen has the audacity to cackle while Buck and Eddie both shoot her a look which only spurs her on. She’s practically wheezing when she says, “You two are also practically co-parenting Christopher.”

“Which isn’t what people do when they’re dating. Sure, they can love my kid, but they can’t parent them. Now Buck is my best friend so he… he can… give him advice and help out…” Eddie argues weakly while Buck’s heart skips a beat because Eddie just practically said yes, Buck is a parent to Chris.

Finally Bobby joins the conversation to add, “You’re right. People who are casually dating usually don’t coparent a child. But people who are married do.”

This sends Chimney and Hen cackling while they gasp, “Oh my god. You guys aren’t just dating. You’re married.”

And before Eddie or Buck can argue with them, Ravi innocently asks, “But you guys broke up for a reason, right? I know you guys work great together, but getting back with your ex is usually a bad idea.”

Everyone just stares at him as Eddie defensively asks, “Since when did we ever date?”

And Ravi’s jaw drops as he answers, “I mean. When I joined the one-eighteen everyone said it was better to stay out of the whole Buck and Eddie thing and not ask questions. And someone told me about this fight in the middle of a grocery store which I thought meant a breakup but… oh god.”

Of course, Buck and Eddie can’t get a single word in as Hen, Chimney, and even Bobby start laughing as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. The only thing that gets them to stop is when the bell rings, but even on the ride over, everyone - except Buck and Eddie - seem to have the giggles.

After the call, which is just a minor fender bender, everyone thankfully takes the advice given to Ravi and gives Buck and Eddie some space. But for the rest of the shift, the two just kind of stew in silence with their own thoughts.

At the end of the shift, everyone fleas from the locker area so Buck and Eddie are left alone. And after a few moments of torturous silence, Buck finally asks, “Why aren’t we dating?”

“Buck.”

“I mean they’re right. We’ve practically been dating this whole time - married even - just without the… physical stuff.”

Eddie just shrugs. “Physical stuff has ruined every relationship I’ve ever had.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“But it has.” Eddie emphasizes his point by harshly shutting his locker and turning to Buck. “Why should I risk what you have with Chris - what you have with me - just for sex?”

“Because maybe it’s worth the risk. And maybe it wouldn’t be just sex. Eddie, you already have me. More than anyone else ever has. So why not date?”

“Buck…” Eddie trails off, endless emotions in that name.

Buck pushes on, stepping closer to him, “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t try. And if you can’t give me a valid reason, then let me take you on a date.” Buck smiles softly. “I mean, we were already planning on getting breakfast in the morning. But this time I could pick you up and maybe hold your hand at the tabl-”

“Evan,” Eddie finally says which makes Buck’s heart drop. “Just… give me some time to think about it, okay?”

And Buck nods and holds his hands up while backing away. “Got it. Sorry for pushing. We can pretend it was a joke.” He tries not to look the way he feels - absolutely heartbroken.

Eddie just gives him a weak smile and grabs his things before heading toward the door only to stop in his tracks and walk to Buck. “Hey.”

Buck glances up at him, searching his expression for something.

Eddie grabs his shoulder, thumb resting above his collarbone. “We’re still good for breakfast tomorrow?”

Buck smiles and nods. “Yeah. Always.”

“Good,” Eddie states, lingering in the moment before his thumb moves slightly, caressing Buck’s collarbone for a moment before he steps away and leaves without another word.

Buck watches as he goes, placing his hand over where Eddie’s was. He can’t help but wonder if Eddie was testing the waters with that swipe of his thumb or trying to soothe Buck in his own way.

It’s only a few hours later when Buck can’t sleep that his phone lights up with a message from Eddie.

Let’s make it a date.

[peachdues]

hope y’all are ready. The period sex in Compass 2 is going to be long and filthy.

Curled behind you as he is, Sanemi can’t quite tell whether you’ve finally succumbed to sleep. Your breathing is slow, and while you haven’t spoken in a while, you could just as easily be basking in the relaxed comfort of his arms, lingering somewhere in between sleep and consciousness.

It’s how he wishes he could be; at ease, half-heartedly fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. But no; Sanemi is wide the fuck awake, his body stiffer than a board.

He doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally — in fact, he’s almost certain you aren’t. Despite your relative relaxedness, you squirm every so often as you try to get comfortable, struggling to find a position that will allow you the most relief from the throbbing ache in your lower stomach.

But if you don’t stop grinding your ass against him, Sanemi might just snap.

He’d already had to quietly fight off the pain in his groin after getting hot and heavy with you in the kitchen, before he’d realized he needed to take care of your grumbling stomach at the expense of his blue balls, no matter how much it hurt.

But here you are now, rotating your perfect ass right into his groin as he grows harder than a fucking diamond, and there’s no relief from the onslaught of your wiggling in sight.

It just feels cruel.

“Knock it off,” Sanemi finally grumbles into your ear, arms squeezing once around your waist in warning. “You tryin’ to make me cream my pants?”

“It’s not my fault,” you groan miserably. “I can’t get comfortable.”

“Don’t you take meds?”

“Already did.”

Sanemi fights the swear building on his tongue. He’s acutely aware that you’re truly not at fault for his traitorous body’s reaction to your movements, but he finds himself wavering dangerously close to losing control. Every bump of your ass against him increasingly painful hard-on is a tease that feels like an act of torture. The twisting movements of your backside are barely more than whispers of the contact he craves, and yet somehow, they’re just enough to make his cock throb for more.

It takes a great deal of self-restraint for Sanemi not to grab your hips and grind you back against him properly. But he manages to just cling onto that fraying thread until you swivel your ass right against the crotch of his pants, groaning in frustration.

Sanemi snaps.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, he flips you to your back and under him.

“You still got cramps?” He hovers close over you, nose nearly bumping yours.

Wide-eyed and blushing at his proximity, you nod.

“You took your meds already?”

Another nod.

“And they ain’t helping?”

This time, you slowly shake your head.

And then a smile, a wickedly devious smile, spreads across his lips. “I know what will.”

feral lil freaky deak of a man

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[whorediaries-09]

i‘m craving rom weasley smut and im so happy you’re taking requests!!😩

how about ron x girlfriend!reader having passionate and hottttttt sex in the kitchen one night while they’re visiting his family. they have to be quiet because one thing about their relationship is, that they’re almost never casting a quiet spell because it’s just so exciting if there’s a possibility of being caught🤭

just imagine her on the counter and him pounding her and it’s soooo hard to be quiet!! and apparently they weren’t really that quiet because the next morning fred says „how’d you two sleep?“ with suuuuuch a big smirk on his face👀

ughhhh i love this request so much ⭐❗ ron was actually my first fictional crush. hope you like this!

heaven and back;

pairing- ron weasley x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- it's like that one scene in where harry and ginny were caught kissing and george was like 'morning'-

little train

' she went to heaven and back now everything is turning to black.'

the ache in your core began during dinner, when ron had been eating with one hand, and the other one buried deep into you. he slowly rubbed circles upon your clit, pumping his fingers in and out simultaneously. it made you squirm in your seat, and he surely enjoyed watching you hold back the pretty sounds from your mouth as you tired not to combust in front of his family and your friends.

but he had teased you, all through out dinner, 30 minutes of pure torture, just to leave you withering with anger and not make you finish. every time you'd feel the coil about to snap, you'd clench your thighs and the walls of your cunt and he would draw out his hand.

and by the look on his face, you could understand he did it on purpose. he enjoyed the game. two could play the game, you decided, so you changed into your 'night clothes' to join harry, ron and hermione for their usual conversation after dinner.

it was a soft silk night slip dress in burgundy. it was lined with black lace. it ended just above your knees. knowing molly wouldn't allow any of the girls to sleep along with the boys, you'd decided to wear the dress, to be a tease and take a little sweet revenge.

it had resulted in an awkward boner and a distraction to him. he sat painfully, the ache in his groin prominent, the bulge of his pants a few minutes away from being visible. he was too immersed in trying to hide his bulge that eve hermione beat him at chess. with an excuse of being tired, he called off the night, going to sleep.

you had thoroughly enjoyed the redness of his face and how visibly hot he was. if it weren't for going to bed, you were sure he'd turn into a tomato with steam rising from his ears.

but the ache in your core persisted, and try as hard you might, you couldn't get off yourself. so that's why you were awake in the middle of the night, dreaming of your boyfriend's fingers knuckles deep into you, as he wrecked your body, putting you away from the pain.

the ache travelled from your core to your throat, as you slowly gulped. you were thirsty. and the last jug of water was emptied by ginny. so you decided to be crawl down the kitchen, drink some water and sneak back right in.

initially, that had been your plan.

you surely didn't expect yourself to be sitting on the kitchen counter with ron's cock buried deep into your cunt as he pounds into you. he wraps your shaking thighs around his waist, letting him feel better, letting him go deeper.

'k-keep quiet,' he whispers into your ear. the slow sensuous way he speaks contrasts with the rough pace he wrecks you. you nod incoherently, burying your mouth into the crook of his neck, your mouth clasping onto the skin, trying to silent the moans that beg to be echo from your lips.

'just cast the s-shit- spell ron-' you say, as he removes your face from his neck, holding you by the throat. he presses onto your arteries slightly, letting the oxygen flow into your head admonish. he grins, pressing his sweaty temple against yours,

'no honey, what's the fun in that?'

the big pleading eyes of yours does nothing but turn him on further, as he rubs circles on your clit, making your toes curl and back arch. he hits your sweet spot just right, and paired with the the ruthless circles on your clit, the coil bubbles intensely within you, wrecking you slowly.

'f-fuck, so g-good. just there, ron please don't stop,' you scream, shame thrown out the window. he breathes you in, letting out a small gasp as your walls convulses around him.

'i don't fucking plan to stop,' he promises, chuckling darkly. you bite your lip, feeling the nerves tug your veins, the sensations colliding to create a beautiful ecstasy that bubbles within you, shimmying through every crevice of your body.

you scream his name, chained with obscene words as you release, the euphoria of the orgasm gripping you slowly, ruining you slowly. he releases himself deep inside you, his white hot orgasm painting your insides.

he brandishes your face with kisses, helping you off the counter and helping you clean up. with a final kiss on your cheek, he wishes you a goodnight as he descends to sleep.

*-

the morning breeze is cool. your back still hurts from the weird juxtaposition you'd been last night, getting your brain fucked out by the one who has his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body.

he's warm, the result of wearing the jumper his mum had knitted him last christmas. his fingers are wrapped around his cup of freshly brewed tea. he sips on it slowly, letting the taste wander on his tastebuds, enjoying the silent peace.

it doesn't long though, when his older brother, fred shows up. he's chewing on a piece of bread, a big smile- no smirk on his face.

'what are ya so jolly about, this morning?' you ask, humming slowly. he stands beside ron, pressing his shoulder upon his.

'well good morning to you too. it's not a crime to be jolly now is it?' he winks. you chuckle.

'good morning, fred,' ron grumbles, rolling his eyes. fred's smirk deepens as he replies,

'good morning ickle ronniekins. how did the both you sleep?'

he knew.

****************************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

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[themilfsland]

needy patience

Pairing(s): Mommy!Wanda x fem!reader.

Summary: Mommy Wanda teaches you how to have patience because you have been acting like a restless child lately.

Content: smut with some plot, smutty, top Wanda, bottom reader, teasing, praising, orgasm denial, edging, fingering, mommy kink;

The whole week you've been giving her a brat attitude, not accepting the no's you received, stressing over nonsense, and unfollowing some rules that she especially made for her baby girl. The other night, you even showed her a silly complaint when she said it was time for sleep but the only thing you wanted was mommy touching you. She knows all your needs and she is always available to supply them. Beyond that, she knows what is best for you, even when you disagree, like that exactly night that you didn't listen to her. But, still, she was patient and explained to you it was late and you needed to rest first. You went to bed sulking, she noticed that.

The week passed and here you are, sitting on the couch with Wanda while some random entertainment channel is streaming on TV. Your back dives in her embrace, her arms around you while her fingertips caress your hand. You try to adjust yourself on the couch for the third time until she asks, "What's wrong, detka?", you sign but your voice sounds colder than you expected, "Nothing is wrong.". Wanda is definitely not pleased with your answer, even less the way you've been responding to her lately. "I'm not asking you again.", her fingers that once were tender against your skin, now they’re gripping your wrist a little too tight.

You've been a bad girl and she is getting mad now, but you just don't know how to explain why you are in this moody. You take a deep breath before saying, "Ugh it's these long advertisements every single time, we can't watch five minutes of the show without them popping up.", you try to accommodate yourself again but this time Wanda holds your waist.

She hears your protesting but says nothing about it, instead, she keeps her attention on the TV. You didn’t like that, not at all, she can’t be ignoring you now, why would she do that. You are pulled out from your thoughts when you feel one of her hands reaching inside your t-shirt, scratching your belly skin until her hand grabs your breasts and presses them, by the surprise from her act you couldn't hold a shy whimper. Still with no words from her, she starts playing with your sensitive nipples, pressing between her fingers and pulling a little. You clench your legs feeling your arousal, and you could swear that she gave a smirk noticing how needy you're already becoming.

You shiver when you feel her other hand reaching into your shorts, "What are you doing, Wanda?", you turn your head to the side and lay back on her shoulder, trying to look directly at her face. "I'm gonna teach you how to have patience, detka", she gives you a mock smile but you are not satisfied with her answer, "Teach me? What do you mean by that?". She grabs your jaw and makes you return your head forward, to keep you looking at the TV, "The rules are simple, darling, I'm gonna touch you throughout every advertising period and stop when your silly program gets back. Ohh, and you're not allowed to cum until I say you can".

You already feel dizzy by just hearing these rules, you can't imagine how many times she would edge you, it will be a complete torture. Her voice took you from your thoughts, "Understood?", her fingers press harder your jaw, "Y-yes, Wanda", you sign but she immediately retorts "That's not the name I wanna hear", you whine back feeling the ache between your legs growing, "Sorry, mommy, please".

She released your face and helped you take off your shorts and panties, with the excuse that it would be more comfortable for you. Sitting in front of her again, laying your back on her chest and head on her shoulder, you feel your body burning with the excitement of Wanda finally touching you after this hell week, but you doubt these thoughts when her hands spread your legs. "You're gonna be a good girl for me now, aren't you detka?", she pats her fingertips on your inner thigh, you can only nod and give her a muffled moan, "I need your words, darling", her fingers reaching your troubles folds, "mommy please, I'm gonna be your good girl, I can take it, please", you whimper with the sensation of how wet you already are, maybe you were wrong, the true torture and hell of this week is about to start now.

Wanda keeps acting like nothing happened minutes ago, her unbothered bothers you, her hand rests on your pussy without any movement, but you can feel her fingertips touching lightly your sensitive areas. You're about to complain about the lack of contact when the commercial starts. No words are said except your whining when you feel her fingers rubbing your clit before start giving circle movements. You try to close your legs, but she grabs your thigh before you can do it, "Stay still, detka, legs wide open for me, let mommy plays with you a little bit".

Wanda wasn't joking about the rules after all, one finger easily slip into your cunt, your walls tighten around her, initiating a slow in and out thrustings, "You're being so good for me, darling, but I know you can take more", you moan louder than the volume of the TV when you feel her stretching you out with the second finger. Her ministrations begin to get faster and harder and you try to place your hand on top of her other hand that is gripping your inner thigh to keep you open. You feel your arousal dripping out while her fingers curled inside your needy pussy. She knows that your orgasm is approaching by the way your walls clench around her fingers and your moans are getting desperate, but she didn't have to worry about that because the advertising time ended.

She immediately stops her movements and all you can do is beg her, "mommy please, don't stop, I need you", she thrusts deeper into you and takes out her fingers.The emptiness that is left in your pussy makes you whimper and squeeze her hand that you are holding. You beg again but she shushes your complaints, "shhh detka, the show is back, have some patience until the next play time", her teasing voice makes you move your hip to get any less frustrating contact but as soon as she notices your pathetic acts she slaps your clit. "Don't make me give you a harder lesson, sweetheart. I'm already taking it easy on you", you moan in response, your ached clit is still pulsating because of her slap but the pressure of the palm of her hand resting on top of your pussy makes the soreness a little better, or not.

Another commercial time and the torture begins. Her fingers pushing hard and deep into your helpless cunt. The mess you are doing doesn't even bother you anymore. The wet spot of your arousal would probably be forming on the couch fabric beneath you.

At your third orgasm edging she had to stop before the show came back, "Mommy there's still time, why did you stop? please I need to cum". She pulls her fingers out again, not letting you get any friction with her hand, "I guess you forgot the second rule, darling, no cumming until I say you can", she speaks low, near your ear, making your walls contract the void space her fingers had left you.

It is the fourth time that she is edging you, or even more, you honestly lost the counting, the overstimulation is too much for you to think. Right now the only thing you are able to do is beg, besides, your legs are too weak to fight against her. She notices all that and decides to take pity on you. "You are dripping in my hand and still so tight for me. I can't get enough from you", she praises you and you beg her to let you cum this time. The fingers of her hand that once was restraining your thigh start rubbing your clit. You automatically lean your head on her shoulder, pressing your back on her chest, eyes closed and your mind starts turning off. "Cum for me, detka. Finish the mess you started", you almost came instantly when she allowed you. It took a few more rough thrusting until your orgasm came, you moan louder and feel your pussy getting full of your cum with her fingers still buried inside you.

She can hear your heavy and tired breathing and feels the light twitches your body is giving. An unexpected whimper was taken from you when she pulled her fingers out, leaving your soaked and throbbing core. "You took me so well, detka", she gives you a forehead kiss, "but I hope you learned how important is to have some patience too".

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝~

❥Pairing: Damian Al Ghul x Wife!Reader

❥Word count: 1.0k

❥Warning: mentions of blood but very brief, mentions of killing, mentions of kidnapping

❥S: Damian worst fear is losing his beloved wife (I wrote this in an hour. It’s 3:20 am rn☹️)

“This is so unlike you” Damian grumbles under his breath as he lies on a bed, a green silk robe hanging off his shoulder as you tend to a deep wound on his midsection with a needle and thick thread in hand. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead. A part of you feels bad but at the same time, he decided to have you tend to all his wounds after coming home from a mission his mother or grandfather sent him on.

Some days he’ll come home with a scratch or none and other days he’ll come back with gashes and marks that’ll stay permanent on his tan skin. As the needle in your hand digs into his skin once more—it hits a nerve that has him griping your wrist tightly and hissing loudly. Despite being an assassin, despite going through every single hard training process there was, a torture process, he still feels his pain.

“I’m sorry” you watch as Damian lets out a heavy sigh, letting go of your writs and gripping a metal handle beside the bed. “Just a few more so please bear with me” Minutes had felt like hours to Damian once you finished. And with your help, he sits up straight, groaning as we do so. One last step was to wrap the now stitched-up wound with bandages. His arms are up slightly as you reach over his back with the long white strips and bring them back to his front repeating the same process a few more times.

Once done, you help with his robe, gently as ever. You pat away any dust that drapes his shoulders. There’s still anger that clouds his eyes when he looks down at you “What happened?” Your hand grazes his cheek softly before placing your cold palm up against his warm cheek.

“It’s nothing, Zawjati. Come let’s go to bed” Your heart throbs at the sudden name. His hand reaches up to your hand, the sliver hand on his finger shining brightly as you gently peel it off his face, kissing it softly before he places it back down at your side. A visible frown finds its way on your lips as he walks past you with his head down.

“It’s clearly nothing. I can see it in your eyes” It’s a mumble but Damian can hear it loud in clear. Your eyes connect for a moment before you sigh—averting your eyes away from his “Let me clean up first, I’ll head back in a bit”

Damian leaves without saying a word to you. It takes a bit longer, mostly because you take your time cleaning and sanitizing. It takes thirty minutes before you’re heading back to your shared bedroom. You expect him to be asleep after being away for so long, but he’s wide awake when you enter the room, sitting upright on the bed rob long gone and with a book in his hand waiting for you. He places it down, on the nightstand beside him.

“You should be asleep” You shake your head, making your way to your side of the king-size bed.

“I can never sleep peacefully knowing you aren’t by my side” he lifts the silk blanket from your side—waiting for you to get in the covers.

You waste zero time as you jump in, head landing on the soft pillows. A sigh of relief leaves your lips once he throws the blanket over your shoulder. He watches as you snuggle closer, eyes closing. Damian’s arm reaches for the small lamp on his nightstand. The once-dim room turns dark within an instant as he turns it off. The wound on his midsection has Damian getting under the covers carefully. The shuffling stops and the room goes quiet. Damian thinks you are fast asleep, but when he feels your fingers tracing gentle shapes on his biceps he thinks otherwise.

Goosebumps cover his body. He can’t sleep either, not because of you tracing his skin, but because his mission early has him thinking. His target threatened you, threatening to take you from his side permanently. The assassin can handle petty little threats, but when they’re about his wife, all he sees is red. His wound was just the aftermath of his outburst. They’re all dead—every single one of them.

He has nothing to worry about—so why is he still worrying about it?

How many others, how many of his enemies feel the need to target you just so they can take him and the rest of the league down?

How much more does he need to paint his hands red just to keep you safe and sound, far away from harm's way? Damian would never say it out loud, out of fear and out of his reputation, you are the most saint and innocent thing to ever happen to him in his life. Someone so innocent and pure belongs to him, someone who’s the exact opposite—someone who can paint an entire city red with his bare hands if he needed to— have you sound asleep beside him—acting like he can’t break you with just his thumb.

When he looks at you—all his worries disappear just like that. Your breathing clams him down. Why worry, when he has you safe and sound right beside him? He takes one glance at your sleeping figure beside him, so peaceful and beautiful, curled up against his arm. His other arm reaches over to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. He lets out a small breath as he watches you snuggle closer. He moves a bit, arm sneaking its way under your neck and over your shoulders, head on top of his arm using it as a pillow.

“I promise I would never let anything happen to you, beloved. Not now nor ever” A single kiss goodnight on your forehead and he closes his eyes, the darkness following soon after.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

[thehistoriccemetery]

Companions Find Tav Wounded

Thank you to everyone who suggested a prompt! #3 (Tav is kidnapped) was definitely the top suggestion, and I will probably do that one eventually, but I’ve already seen it done a couple of times. So I decided to do this one instead. Mostly y’all just like when I torture poor Tav and it gets real angsty in here. I hope this fills all your angst needs.

I kinda rushed Lae’zel and Jaheira’s bits, so that’s why they’re so much shorter.

Anyway, Tav goes out to the forest to gather some supplies and is unexpectedly attacked. The companions find them beaten close to camp.

Shadowheart

You hear her calling your name into the surrounding forest. You try to scream, but nothing but a quiet groan leaves your lips.

The next moments are hazy and fragmented, like small shards of glass glued together to make a fuller picture.

Shadowheart is kneeling over you, whispering a prayer that seals your veins closed and makes your skin feel cool. It is not enough. She screams desperately for help.

When none comes, you feel her arms under yours, dragging you across a clearing till you are resting slumped against a tree. You hear her speaking to you but the words do not register.

You try to fight the darkness that seeks to overtake your vision, but it is no use. You lose consciousness.

When you wake up, you are back at camp, laid carefully across a bedroll. Your entire body screams with pain as a wet cloth gently cleans your wounds.

You squirm, instinctively trying to move away from the stinging cloth.

A gentle hand strokes your head. “You’re doing great, love. Just try to stay as still as you can.” She continues to pet your hair softly as she works.

Her hands glow blue as she runs them over your hemorrhaged skin. You feel lightheaded and the darkness creeps into your sight again. Your eyes flutter.

“Just a little longer, love,” she coos. “Just stay with me a little longer. You’re doing so well.”

Your entire body radiates with pain, but you focus your energy on staying awake. Your vision blurs and you grind your teeth together. “Can you… talk to me while you heal me?” You ask. “Keep me distracted.”

Shadowheart looks at you sheepishly. She’s not sure how to fill the silence on her own, but she wants to help. She does the only things she knows to do, and begins to sing a hymn.

You grip the bedroll, attempting to steady yourself. Her song makes your muscles relax and the healing begins to hurt less and less.

“Okay, love, it’s over. You did wonderfully,” she kisses your forehead and positions your head into her lap. She gently starts to untangle your blood crusted hair. “Rest now.”

You smile. Your body is still excruciatingly sore, but you nuzzle her thigh and kiss it gently before lulling off to sleep.

Lae’zel

You’re already unconscious when Lae’zel finds you beaten and broken in the forest clearing. You’re jolted awake by the pain that comes from your broken bones being slung over her shoulder.

You groan pitifully. She ignores you, running back to camp with the agility of a cat. It’s almost impossibly quick for someone who is carrying a whole person.

Despite her seemingly careless demeanor, she is incredibly gentle when she lays you down at camp. She gathers every person in camp to help you.

Despite her training being based heavily in self-reliance, Lae’zel was also taught to work well with a team. She knows her strengths and she knows how to delegate her weakness.

Healing is not her strong suit. So she leaves that to the professionals and instead turns to what she is good at: hunting.

She gathers Karlach, Minsc, and Scratch and they set out into the forest. Scratch and Boo were pretty quick to catch a trail.

Lae’zel charged ahead of the others. As soon as the perpetrators were visible, she rushed in, sword slashing so fast they were dead before they hit the ground.

“… wow” Minsc says as he approaches the scene. All three culprits were on the ground faster than he could even run after Lae’zel.

Lae’zel severed one of their heads and threw it into her pack. It would be drop at your feet when she got back. You would be alive and well when she got back. She repeated the words to herself all the way back to camp.

Karlach

“Hey bub! It’s dinner time!” She shouted into the forest, playfully tramping through leaves. “Where did you go?” She asks surprised not to find you in the clearing you usually went to to gather ingredients.

It wasn’t until she heard a groan and the rustle of leaves that she turned to find you, broken and bleeding on the ground.

“No! Nononono!” She stammered, running over and kneeling on the ground beside you. It couldn’t be you. This must be a nightmare. A trick of the imagination.

She wiped your hair from your blood crusted face. “Soldier? Darling? Wake up, come on wake up, please,” she pleaded, tears stinging her eyes.

“…Karlach?” You mumbled weakly. You tried to reach your hand out to her but found yourself unable to move. Your legs were wrapped in something resembling barbed wire.

“Yes! Yes it’s me baby,” she says, so relieved that you’re alive. “We’re gonna get you outta here okay? Um…” her hands work cautiously at the wire around your legs. When you yelped at the pain she realized she had no clue what she was doing.

“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up and we’ll get you back to camp, okay?” She gingerly took you into her arms, carefully not to jostle your legs too much. She didn’t even flinch as the barbs tore into her own arm.

As she approached camp, she shouted for Halsin and Shadowheart. They came running, meeting the two of you at the edge of camp.

“I-I don’t know what happened I just found them like this,” Karlach says, tears starting to fall down her cheeks.

“It’s okay. They’ll be okay just lay them right here,” Halsin soothed, leading you both to a bedroll. They started with a couple of healing spells, leaving you feeling rejuvenated enough to speak and move your upper body. Your bound legs are a different matter though.

Shadowheart went in with a knife, slicing through the wire with some effort. You screamed and thrashed in pain as the barbs tore further through your skin.

“Do you think you could keep them still?” Shadowheart asked Karlach. Karlach wrapped her arms around you from behind, pinning your arms against your chest.

She kissed your temple and whispered into your ear. “You’re gonna be okay, alright? I’ve got you.”

Both Shadowheart and Halsin started to wrestle the wire from your legs, leaving you wailing in agony and thrashing against Karlach’s strong embrace. Your cries shattered her heart. She felt like she was torturing you herself.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she muttered over and over again, nuzzling her teary face into the back of your shoulder.

When it was finally over, you relaxed and slumped against Karlach. She cradled you, rocking you back and forth in her arms. Your legs were shredded, but you would be okay. You weren’t going to leave her.

Minthara

Minthara steps gingerly through the clearing in the forest. Her footsteps are hardly audible as she walks through the brush. It isn’t until she sees you slumped against a tree with an arrow through your chest that she breaks out in a sprint.

She is by your side in seconds weapons drawn and scouting for the hidden enemy that shot you. She takes a good look around, but it only takes a moment for her to realize the enemies fled. She’ll take care of them later, but you needed healing.

She sheathed her weapon and got down on a knee next to you, whispering a prayer of healing that brought you back to consciousness.

Your breathing was erratic and labored. She needed to take you back. Now.

Typically, she’s the type that would throw you over her shoulder, but the arrow in your chest meant she’d have to go for a gentler princess carry.

When she has you back at camp you are approached Shadowheart, who was quickly tailed by Lae’zel.

“This arrow has to come out,” Shadowheart observed. “It’s pressing against their lung. Be gentle and don’t try to pull it out with the head still attached.” She jogs off to her tent for supplies.

Minthara straddled your legs, motioning for Lae’zel to brace you sitting up. She took your chin in her hand. “Listen to me,” she commands. “I’m going to make this as quick as I can, but don’t pass out on me.”

You nod weakly, head filled with only her words and confusion. “I mean it,” she repeats. “You cannot die. Understand?” You nod again.

With one swift movement, she shoves the arrow out your back. You shriek and your vision spots with white dots. You’re sure that hurt more than being pierced by the actual arrow. But you stay awake.

She gently carves off the arrowhead and lets it fall to the ground. Then, she pulls the rod of wood out of your chest. Your head spins, and you vomit onto the ground next to you. But you stay awake.

Shadowheart returns with cool water and a rag, which Minthara uses to wipe your face and head. “You did very well.” She states plainly, allowing Shadowheart to cast a spell to heal the wound.

Minthara does not allow you to be out in the middle of camp with the others for much longer. She picks you up again and brings you to her tent.

She spends the rest of the evening lecturing you about your foolishness. What were you thinking going out alone? She wouldn’t let it happen again. You’ll be at her side until you can prove you’re able to keep yourself safe.

Meanwhile she’s also tending to your every need, making sure you’re comfortable and you have blankets to keep you warm and you have a little pillow to prop up on. She even makes sure you have the stuffed animal you keep hidden away from the companions in embarrassment.

Jaheira

You remember the clearing, and the attack, and the silence that followed. You remember Jaheira standing over you, telling you were okay and you needed to stay alive.

You don’t remember how you ended up in her tent, though. Regardless now you are here and she’s pressing some bottle to your lips. “Drink.”

She forces your lower jaw open with one hand and pours the liquid downward your throat with the other. The mixture is chunky and disgusting, but you have no choice but to swallow every drop.

The effect it has on your body is immediate. The pain fades and a numbness spreads throughout your limbs. Your head is foggy and you feel like the room is spinning.

You attempt to sit up on the table Jaheira seems to have you on, but you end up almost falling off of it. She steadies you with a hand. “Still yourself. Lay down.”

You lay back down and allow her to work her magic. Your wounds are packed with a combination of magic, herbs, and bandages. Watching her dress your wounds, you are grateful for the liquid she gave you to start. This probably would’ve hurt otherwise.

“Rest now, cub. You must regain your strength.” She says, kissing you on the forehead and gently laying a blanket down over top of you.

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

cw captive whumpee, injury, betrayal, tortured for information, intimate whumper 

After hours of torture, of beatings, of sleep deprivation, Whumpee finally gives in. Coughing up a mouthful of blood onto the ground at Whumper’s feet, they beg, “S-stop, please. No more, I can’t—I'll tell you, I-I'll tell you everything.” 

“You lasted longer than I thought.” Whumper crouches down in front of them, taking Whumpee’s chin in their hand and tilting their head up. Their expression is almost sympathetic as they take in Whumpee’s teary eyes and bruised face. “But it’s okay. It’ll all be over if you give me the information I need. And then, just think how nice it will be to finally rest. You can sleep in a real bed while your injuries heal.” 

Whumpee doesn’t need any more convincing. They choke out the information through sobs, clinging to Whumper, and each heave of their chest sends pain shooting through their broken ribs. But it will be over soon—Whumpee doesn’t know why they even held out this long if they were just going to break anyway. 

Whumper strokes their hair gently as they give up the secrets they were trained to die for. Endangering their team’s entire operation and perhaps their lives. But then again, it’s not like Whumpee’s team came to rescue them—as Whumper had reminded them countless times. And they were right. 

“Good…that’s perfect, Whumpee,” Whumper praises after they’ve finished spilling every bit of information that had been requested, and then some. “Thanks to you, your team won’t stand a chance against me, now.” 

A sense of relief washes over Whumpee. It's done—the suffering is finally over with. They want to sleep until the pain no longer clings to their bones and laces every movement. However, their relief is quickly replaced by a fresh bout of fear at the realization of what they’ve just done. “They’ll know it was me,” Whumpee whispers brokenly.  

“Of course they will,” Whumper says, matter-of-fact. “And they will go looking for you. And if they find you, they will kill you.” 

Whumpee shakes their head. “Worse,” they correct. “They’ll do so much worse than just kill me.” 

A sharp pain shoots through their side and they groan, clutching at one of their wounds. Whumper gathers them into their arms before they collapse completely, and assures Whumpee, “That’s why you will be staying with me. In exchange for giving up the information I needed, you will be under my protection.” 

Whumpee can’t possibly have heard them right. They must be delirious from the pain. “W-what?” they stammer. Everything is growing fuzzy, and now that they’re being held in Whumper’s arms, they just want to let their eyes fall shut and surrender to sleep. 

The gentle fingers brushing back Whumpee’s hair lull them further into unconsciousness as Whumper murmurs, “I can’t just give you up now, sweetheart. I think you’d make a valuable addition to my team.” 

Whumpee hums in agreement, not quite sure what they’re agreeing to, but if it means an end to the pain, they’ll do just about anything. 

“You were never cut out for this line of work, were you?” Whumper says teasingly. They lift Whumpee in their arms and begin carrying them somewhere, but the gentle rocking motion of their steps eases Whumpee into sleep long before they find out where they’re being taken. 

[jjkamochoso]

Pt. 2 of Imagine… Soshiro Hoshina Finding You on the Brink of Death

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of hospital setting/devices

You can find the all angst ridden part 1 here!

One week.

That was how long it had been since Soshiro had seen your alluring (e/c) eyes, heard your infectious laugh, blushed at your gentlest smile reserved just for him. The past 7 days of you in a coma after almost becoming a kaiju meal had been devastating for him and the rest of your teammates. You had many visitors over the hours you lied completely still on your hospital bed, but you weren’t the only unmoving person in your room. Soshiro had rarely moved an inch from your side, only getting up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t remove himself from his seat next to your fragile body in case you woke up; he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone in such a vulnerable state anyway.

“They’re under the best care here, Hoshina. Go get some rest,” Captain Ashiro had told him on day 3, when Soshiro was sporting dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He respectfully refused, and Mina knew better than to fight with him right now—he was as stubborn as he was talented with his swords. Every time the nurses came in to check your vitals, they looked upon him and his sad state of being with sorrow, feeling awful to see the man in such despair. They had taken it upon themselves to deliver meals for him since they all knew he wasn’t leaving to eat. Even if most of the time the tray sat untouched, they took it as a win when a pudding or fruit cup disappeared.

Day 5 was the hardest for Soshiro. By that point, he was delirious from staying up practically all night in case you needed something. His typed reports stopped making sense, his brain nowhere near as sharp as usual due to the fog of grief that had settled in his mind. The steady beeps of your life support machine haunted his every waking moment, a perfect symphony of the anguish he couldn’t escape. Thankfully, Kafka had heard about his vice captain’s condition and visited that night, offering to take over Soshiro’s watch in case you woke up. Soshiro was extremely reluctant at first, but he knew that you and Hibino were close; he also trusted the kind hearted man enough to know he’d be there for you in case something happened. With strong hesitation, Soshiro left your sight for the first time in 96 hours, heading to the shower. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn’t wash away the feelings of guilt he harbored over your injuries.

If only I was faster, stronger… I could’ve been there sooner. Stopped the kaiju from ever sinking its disgusting teeth into you. What kind of vice captain am I? What kind of… person am I? How could I ever expect them to love me back if I can’t succeed in my one job of protecting them?

He let his tears fall freely, mixing in with the water from the shower head.

Day 7 was the point where Soshiro was just… there. He barely felt anything anymore, whether it was exhaustion, anguish, or anything else. He sat next to you like normal, gazing at your chest as it sank and rose with shallow breaths, but his eyes were glazed over in a manner reminiscent of a man without hope. The doctors didn’t have an estimated time for you to wake up. With injuries as extensive as yours, there was no telling when your body would be ready to start running on its own again. Soshiro didn’t know how to process that news; he liked seeing tangible results, and the fact that you had been hooked up to all these damn machines for so long and nothing had changed? It was pure torture to him. He found himself inching closer to you, if that were even possible, and he took hold of your hand with the softest of touches.

“I miss ya, y/n,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. He was careful to not disrupt the IV as he laid a gentle kiss on your cold skin, savoring the sensation of doing what had wanted to do since he first met you all those years ago.

“Remember the promise we made to each other when we were young and dumb? Now we’re old and dumb,” he chuckled humorlessly, “and you still have to keep up your end of the bargain. You have to survive. I can’t lose you.”

He took in a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t lose you because I’m in love with you.”

It was like the world was playing a cruel joke on him—he finally garnered the courage to admit he had fallen in love, but the object of his affections wasn’t able to hear it. He let his head hang in misery as he kept your hand close to his face, eventually placing it against his cheek. He closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that you would wake up. If you died… he wouldn’t know how to move on from such a devastating blow. He knew this macabre scenario had a high probability of happening in this career field you two chose, but he always had faith in his and your abilities to stay alive. To say that faith had been shaken was the understatement of the century.

“Y/n, please. I can’t do this alone. I need ya back with me. You gotta keep fighting.”

Soshiro went to place your hand back on the bed when he swore he felt your fingers move against his own. His eyes widened in surprise as his heart started slamming against his rib cage. Was that real or just his imagination?

It happened again.

And your eyes opened.

He slammed on the call button, informing the nurses of your awakening before turning his attention back to you.

“So-soshiro,” you tried to say, but your throat couldn’t form any words.

“Shh, don’t say anything, darling, I’m right here. Always have been, always will be.”

A grin swirled with anxiety and relief was present on his lips as he looked at you.

After a few hours of tests, doctors checking up on you, and small moments to collect your thoughts, you were finally able to form coherent sentences.

“You sat here the whole time? Now I feel bad,” you said, a small frown gracing your features.

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t want you to be alone, that’s all,” Soshiro told you, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you… happen to hear anything I was saying before you woke up?”

“What, like how we’re old and dumb and that you’re in love with me?” you said, trying your best not to laugh at his shocked expression.

“Huh? You actually did hear me? I thought that only happened in movies!” he whined, his cheeks tinged with red.

“No reason to be embarrassed, Soshiro. I didn’t know how to tell you but I’m in love with you, too. I have been for a very long time.”

Soshiro was looking upon you like you had descended directly from the heavens, his eyes gleaming with unbridled joy as his fingertips danced over your arm, tracing shapes in an intimate, comforting manner.

“I‘ve been so worried about ya, sweetheart, but now that you’re back with me, it’s like I can breathe again.”

You relished in the calm quiet of the room, basking in Soshiro’s loving presence. He was exactly the driving force behind you willing your body to wake up. You could never leave him to walk this world alone.

“I also felt you kissing my hand,” you said after a long bout of silence. “That was very sweet of you.”

“Guess all I had to do was give ya true love’s kiss to wake up?” he joked, his little fangs peeking out of his lazy grin.

“I’m looking forward to my real kiss when I get out of the hospital,” you replied, attempting to wink at him.

He leaned his face over yours, his breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. “If you want, I can give you a preview of it right now.”

You felt your pulse quicken and apparently so did the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to; the machine started beeping, alerting that your numbers were abnormal.

Soshiro kissed your forehead before sitting down again, smirking. “Do I make ya nervous?”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Watch it Hoshina, or I’ll have you admitted into the bed next to me.”

Soshiro burst out in his trademark laugh, grabbing at his stomach and wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. You could be given all the medicine known to man but nothing could make you feel better than the promise of being loved by the easily amused violet haired man who will never leave your side.

[hoss-bonaventure]

i want to expand on this post just cause i can.

so much of gus and jesse’s relationship is played as an affair. this is only because it makes walt’s anger about their dynamic feel more jilted, like a lover. when he confronts jesse about the two of them having dinner he uses language an excusatory husband would use if he caught his spouse cheating such as “tell me you weren’t as his house last night?” it’s very clearly written as jesse being disloyal to walt and their partnership. now the audience knows that’s just simply not true with jesse literally saying “if you kill mr. white, you’re going to have to kill me too” when he thinks gus is suggesting killing him. he’s devoted to mr. white throughly. even when he’s being shoved into these new situations by mike and gus, there’s never a moment where he thinks about abandoning him. he’s still in the back of his mind through everything, and every character knows this except for walt. that’s what makes most of the build-up leading to gus’s death so ironic. to walt, gus is the other woman who needs to be killed for fraternizing with what’s “his”. in reality, it’s his own brutality and sadistic behavior that is putting a wedge between him and jesse. 

it’s very reminiscent of walt finding out about skyler’s affair with ted. he lashes out and throws a tantrum but he never stops for a second and asks why it happened. he never comes to the conclusion that his actions are what’s driving skyler into another’s arms. he plots to get revenge on ted, but it’s never more serious than toxic masculine how-dare-you-sleep-with-my-wife bullshit. he wants to kill him, i don’t doubt that, but he can’t. how can he? killing, torturing, and all that depravity belongs in the “heisenberg” part of his life. he cannot touch ted because he is as mundane as the life he is fronting. 

now, i will admit, the skyler affair storyline and jesse’s so-called adultery are really not that similar at all. like i said, jesse is not betraying anyone--he is still fiercely dedicated to mr. white. his unfaithfulness is only interpreted as much by walt himself, and it’s walt’s delusions drive him away in the first place. skyler cheats as a means of revenge, as a way to take back some autonomy that walt had stripped her of. however, it’s the way that walt handles these individual perfidies that’s so captivating to me. when deciding what to do with gus, he immediately decides he needs to kill him. this was his plan prior, but now it’s more dire. jesse is gone. he needs to kill two birds with one stone: win back jesse and kill gus. more importantly, he needs to show jesse that him killing gus was something he did for the both of them. so thus he embarks on this convoluted, deplorable, fucked-up scheme. and hey! it works. he successfully manipulates jesse once again, implanting in his brain that no one will have your best interests at heart but me. “gus had to go” and jesse has to agree because this pseudo-son is dying and mr. white is right there and he saved him right? he saved brock and he saved jesse and it doesn’t matter that their love has a body count. their reunion is so impactful because they’re like magnets in a way. the connection they share is so strong that it doesn’t matter how hard they fight or run away, they will cling to each other once more. but what’s devastating this time around is that jesse doesn’t have a leg to stand on with mr. white anymore. he almost fucking killed him and it turns out the “real” mastermind was gus all along. so he offers his submission as an apology, when mr. white holds out his hand he takes it because this is how he can say he’s sorry. and walt? how could he not fall in love all over again. he has jesse, freshly martyred and in his arms once again. 

[riverbutghost]

hello !!! I love your writing and all your prompts, I was just wondering if you’d be willing to do an extreme angst one where Everyone especially Simon notices The readers mental health go downhill , and on one of the missions reader goes berserk, or purposely tries getting themselves killed , thinking they’re doing a good thing ?

Try for me

yea yes yes. omg. thank you so much i love your support !!

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader (I didn’t know what to use so I used female pronouns<3)

Warnings: military stuff,, angst but happy ending! Also, the reader’s call sign is Crow.

Also this is phenomenal.

Gripping your gun tighter, you stumbled into the room. You quickly looked through the room and got out.

“If any of you find something, inform me so I can send help.”

Price’s voice came through the comms, and you sighed. If it was a month ago, you would have said something like ‘yes sir’ or anything. But now, you just wanted to deal with every single soldier by yourself.

It wasn’t a healthy thought for sure. But you just felt like you couldn’t do it anymore. You tried, so fucking hard but to no avail.

-

“I’ll pass on that.”

You smiled politely at your friends, who looked a bit skeptical. You saw from the corner of your eye that Soap and Ghost shared a knowing look. You didn’t care. All you cared was to sleep the day off.

“C’mere now, you love to play darts.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to look at them.

“I’m just tired, see you tomorrow.”

They knew something was wrong, but didn’t press on it.

-

“Crow, you copy?”

You shook your head to clear your mind, but still your vision was blurred with tears. You didn’t know why, but it happened all the time. Your throat would wobble and your eyes would water, but you didn’t cry. You couldn’t. Because you were never alone by yourself. Not when you were on a long mission.

“Yeah?”

You answered Price, sighing softly.

“I told you to-“

The line was cut off immediately, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Captain?”

You gulped after hearing no sign from him. You took a good look around you, but couldn’t comprehend anything.

“Fuck, not now.”

You mumbled to yourself as you harshly kicked a rock. Your chest started tightening, your headache got worse. All you needed was to cry, but you couldn’t.

-

Pursing your lips tighter, you held back a sob after the door opened. You gripped the blanket over your head, pretending to sleep on the couch.

The footsteps stopped right in front of you, and you tried to even your breathing.

“Crow..?”

You cursed your body for shaking slightly. You peeked your head through the blanket.

“Hey, uhm..”

Simon’s eyes scanned your face and he sat down.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was abnormally soft, and you felt your eyes watering again. Getting softness from a guy who was intimidating and wore masks and kill people was what made the situation worse for you.

“Hey, hey..easy. S’fine, just wanted t’know because you don’t seem okay.”

You sniffed and pulled the blanket over you again, not wanting to ugly cry in front of your lieutenant.

“Is it about the mission..? Are you.. stressed? Sure, it is a hard one, but you have us. And we have you..”

You sobbed quietly as his hand traced patterns on your knees, touch soft as ever.

It wasn’t about the mission.

-

Loosening your grip on your gun, you sighed and threw it away. You could practically hear Price’s disappointed screams, harsh words that would go in one ear and out the other. But you were alone now.

Maybe if you just went to the soldiers and ask them to kill you, it would be easier.

You stared at the enemy, talking with each other about their daily lives. Not giving a single shit about killing people, torturing their kids and families.

You sighed and sat down behind a tree, holding your knees in a tight hug.

Closing your eyes, your lips wobbled a little but you sighed.

-

“Aye, Lt. What’s wrong with her?”

Soap muttered under his breath to Ghost, and he looked at you.

You were sitting down next to another rookie. Everyone was chatting around the camp fire, relaxing their minds for the upcoming mission.

That was Gaz’ idea. The camp fire.

Everyone was laughing, having a good time. You were sitting there, smiling at your teammate as he was making impressions of your other teammates.

You weren’t there, though. Anyone who knew your ups and downs would know that. You were pretending, something you did pretty good. But Soap knew, Ghost knew.

God, even Price could see it.

Ghost was the only one who saw you crying. It was the day before. You cried while he patted your knee.

It was something that affected him. Seeing you cry did so many things to his already broken heart, but he would get through it.

His main concern was you.

He dismissed Soap, and went over to sit next to you. You turned to look at the person who sat next to you, only to find him. Your smile faltered a bit, but you smiled again.

“When are you gonna stop this?”

You swallowed and tried not to break your smile.

“What, Simon?”

You called him by his real name, which was a warning. But Ghost wasn’t a guy that would consider a warning.

“Bullshit. I know you’re not here mentally. Talk to me.”

His voice dropped an octave and he gripped his gloves, ripping them off from his hands. Your sharp eyes met his as you opened your mouth for harsh words.

“Just because we made a mistake by fucking doesn’t give you the option to talk to me like you’re my psychologist.”

You hissed through clenched teeth, and got up.

You stormed out of the area, bumping your shoulder to Soap’s in the process.

“Hey-“

Ghost’s eyes never left you as he came next to Soap.

“Leave it Johnny.” He mumbled with raging eyes.

-

“Crow, where are you?!”

You gasped quietly as you shot up from the ground. You were looking at the sky, almost hypnotized.

You looked at the time on your clock, and you were there for an hour.

You looked around, finding the soldiers still talking and waiting.

You got up, walked towards them with slow and unsteady steps.

The soldiers saw you and got their guns ready. You didn’t even surrender.

“It’s for the best.” You mumbled to yourself as you took another step.

“Stop right there, lady!”

Someone yelled, but other hushed him.

“She’s one of them!”

You waited for the guns to start firing. You sighed deeply as you thought about the hurt you caused your loved ones. It was going to be better for everyone.

You held your breath and closed your eyes as the fires started, only to realize that you were flying.

Opening your eyes, you looked behind you to see your lieutenant’s chin.

“Sim-“

“Shut it.”

He put you into the truck, and locked the doors after he got out.

A pained sob left your throat after he left, and you held your face in your hands.

What was wrong with you? What the hell were you thinking? No, it would be better if you died. You’re a pussy.

The door of the truck opened harshly, and Simon got in.

“What the fuck was that?!” He yelled, hand slamming down in anger.

You just sobbed after that, but he shook his head.

“Fuckin’ hell.. I told you to talk to me, didn’t I?! You were going to die!”

Hi clenched his hands, fisting them. He punched the metal door and you flinched.

“Fuck..”

He mumbled again, and looked up at you. His eyes were red, angry.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked after minutes of silence other than your broken sobs.

“It would be better-“

“No!”

He yelled again, body tense with so much anger.

“I hurt you all the time! Why, because of my fucking mental health? I promise you wouldn’t miss me if I died.”

Simon’s eye twitched as he punched his thigh. He pointed his finger at you accusingly. He took a deep breath before talking.

“You listen to me. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Nor do Soap or anyone want it. You hear me? I’ll take care of you, you’ll be better. Therapy, whatever the hell you want or need. I’ll fuckin’ do it. But you will not do..that again, yeah?”

Your face was scrunched up and Simon moved towards you, to hold you in his arms while you ugly cry. A big pained sob left you, making Simon’s heart clench.

“I’m sorry, M’such a wreck.”

Simon just held you tighter, brain fogged with the shit you tried to pull just minutes ago.

“Never, you hear me? Never do that again. Or I swear, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

You knew what he meant. He was scared. So were you.

“Tell me.” He mumbled into your hair, after minutes passed. You were now breaking deeply.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s it.”

You sniffled one last time.

“Let’s go, yeah? Wanna take a long bath. Gonna wash you up, sweet girl.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you thought about the man who was holding you.

You would try, just for him.

[jessybarnes]

Bunker Nights

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Tags: Angst, mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, nightmares, panic attacks, eventual fluffy smut, and protective!Dean

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 4,667

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this one. I hope you enjoy :)

One year.

It had been exactly one year since you ended it with Tyler and you still suffered from the aftershocks of the abuse. Even though your body and mind weren't subject to his fists or harsh words, you still felt worthless. Every day the memories of the torture you went through filled your mind.

The moment you met Sam and Dean in the shitty hole-in-the-wall bar, your personalities clicked. You needed a distraction and somewhere to live, and they needed help in their line of work. So when they offered to let you stay and help them hunt you agreed without hesitation. 

Finally, things seemed to be looking up for you, or so you thought. Two weeks after moving into the Bunker, the nightmares started.

These weren't just any run-of-the-mill bad dreams either. No, in these dreams, Tyler was torturing and trying to kill you. The vividness left you screaming and crying in your sleep almost nightly. The nightmares plagued your mind every time you went to sleep.

Neither of the brothers said anything to you about it, so you tried to pretend everything was fine. It was one of the hardest things you've had to do if you were being honest with yourself. The physical training alone sometimes brought on a panic attack. Even though you knew Sam and Dean weren't trying to harm you, your mind was starting to become your biggest enemy. 

You could tell they wanted to ask you about it, but they also knew that you weren’t one to talk about your past. The only thing you told them was that you and Tyler had a rough breakup. The thought made you laugh. Calling it a rough breakup was putting it very mildly. 

The day before your first hunt went surprisingly well. You went the entire day without any panic attacks or a questioning glance from either of the Winchesters. Even though you couldn’t remember the last time you slept, it didn’t stop you from humming in the kitchen while you cooked everyone dinner. Not to mention, the copious amounts of makeup you used to make yourself look less like a zombie. You made a mental note to get some more of the coverup you hid your dark circles with. 

Sam rounded the corner as you filled everyone’s plates, one of his eyebrows rising quizzically. 

“You’re extra happy tonight, Y/N.” 

You shrugged and continued to hum as Dean joined you both at the table. 

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you? You win the lotto or somethin’?”

You gave them both your signature eyeroll and took a pull of your beer. 

“What? I can’t be in a good mood now?”

Sam cleared his throat and looked over at his brother before staring back at you, concern evident in his eyes. 

“Of course you can, Y/N. Dean and I …  well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been having nightmares.”

Your eyes narrowed to thin slits. If this was their attempt to keep you from going on tomorrow’s hunt, then they had better think again. 

“I’m. Fine."

You enunciated your words, making sure to look at both of them sternly. Sam scoffed and set his drink down.

“I don’t call it fine when you wake up almost every night screaming, Y/N”

All you wanted was one day, one day where you could just forget about the grim night that awaited you.

“They’re just dreams, and I’m going tomorrow no matter what. I’ve been training for this day for months, and a stupid nightmare isn’t going to bench me.”

The hostility in your voice caught them off guard, and you suddenly weren’t hungry anymore. You pushed the contents of your plate around with your fork, the awkward silence becoming more deafening by the second. Dean was the first to break it, his soothing tone of voice practically making you sick to your stomach. You knew they wanted you to stay home, and it pissed you off even more that your brain somewhat agreed with them. 

“Look, Y/N, we just wa-”

You slammed your fists on the table cutting him off mid-sentence. 

“ENOUGH! I’m not here to be your charity case! I came here to hunt, not for you to feel sorry for me!”

Before either of them could say anything you had stormed down the hallway to your room. Slamming the door for good measure, you finally let yourself unleash the angry tears you’d held back. You knew they were only trying to help, but being pitied didn’t sit with you well. You’d grown accustomed to it after being with Tyler for so many years, and it made you feel like everyone was hypersensitive to your feelings. 

Once the tears stopped, you were left exhausted and feeling numb. Falling asleep right after an outburst would definitely bring on a nightmare, so you opted for a long hot shower instead. The moment the water cascaded over your skin you felt the stiffness in your muscles leave your body. You spent extra time massaging your scalp and even used your lavender soothing body wash to help calm your nerves. 

Finally, in your pajamas, you slid beneath your covers and sighed deeply. Couldn’t you just have one day where you didn’t have someone worrying about you? Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you turned the bedside light off and let yourself fall asleep. 

Fear, raw fear coursed through your body as you ran. You’d just told Tyler you wanted to see other people and he’d tried to force himself on you so you’d stay. He pinned you against the wall, his breath reeked of stale beer as he kissed down your neck. The feeling of his lips made you shiver with disgust. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you raised your knee hard and fast hitting him right where it counted. 

Tyler yelled in pain as you broke free, running as fast as you could to the door. 

“Ow, FUCK! God Dammit, Y/N! Come back here you fucking bitch!”

Cold air hit your face as you ran barefoot into the woods behind your home. Branches hit your exposed skin leaving little cuts in their wake. You could hear Tyler shouting after you as you found refuge behind a big tree trunk. Your chest heaved and you shivered as you tried to stay still and quiet. 

Tyler’s footfalls and yelling became louder by the second, and you were sure he could hear the thundering of your heart. Just as you thought you were in the clear, strong arms boxed you in, the bark of the tree cut into your back as Tyler stared menacingly down at you. 

“There you are… you pathetic little slut. You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N. You should have just come home like the good little bitch you are and kept that pretty, little mouth shut.”

His fingers grazed your cheek briefly before his mouth was on your own, the taste of his tongue made you almost vomit. 

“Now, we could have done it back at the house, but seeing as how you made a scene, I think I’ll just take you right here.”

You tried to push, shove, kick, anything to get him off you, but it was of no use. He began to forcefully rid you of your clothes, and all you could do was scream. Scream for anyone to help you.

“Stop! Please, Tyler!”

Sobs racked your body as he pawed roughly at your skin. You could feel him now, shaking you, calling your name.

“No! Just leave me alone!”

You bolted upright in your bed, a cool sheen of sweat covered your skin and the sheets. Dean knelt in front of you, concern etched in his features. 

“Y/N! It’s okay! It’s me… it’s Dean.”

You blinked a few times before covering your face with your hands, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks. 

“D-Dean… I’m… I’m s-sorry for waking you up. I… It was just another d-dream.”

You tried to sound confident between your sobs, but you knew he wouldn’t buy it. Hell, even you knew how pathetic you sounded. Ever so slowly Dean sat on the foot of your bed, his hand coming to rest gently on your knee. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was looking at you with worry in his eyes. 

“C’mon now, Y/N. Don’t bullshit me. You and I both know that this is past the point of being 'just dreams'. I want to help you, but you’re going to have to work with me here.”

Using the back of your hands to wipe the loose tears away, you finally got the courage to look at him. His eyes were soft, kind even. The lopsided smile he gave you was the moment you finally let your walls down. Dean was here to help you, not judge you. 

“O-Okay… so umm… what do we do now? How do I stop dreaming of these… these horrible things?”

Dean started to move his thumb across your kneecap. In any other situation you’d be in a fit of laughter, but at a time like this, it was soothing. 

“Do you trust me?”

Those four words made you swallow thickly. Trust wasn’t something you took lightly, and Dean knew that. Sam understood this too, but Dean was different. He could count on one hand the people he had full trust in.

“Yes, of course, I trust you, Dean. Believe me, I want these nightmares to stop just as much as you do if not more.”

He stood and held his hand out to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you took it anyway and let him lead you to his room. The Bunker was eerily quiet at night, but you knew you were safe. You stood at the threshold, watching him as he padded across the floor to his bed. Your cheeks flushed as he rid himself of his t-shirt, leaving him only in his low-hanging grey sweats. You never let yourself think about Sam or Dean this way before, but you weren’t a prude. Every woman who came in contact with them knew how attractive they were. 

Dean cleared his throat bringing you back to reality.

“You comin’ sweetheart? I don’t bite...much.”

He winked, and you knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but who were you kidding? You couldn’t share a bed with Dean. That would make things weird, and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. Nightmares or not, you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship. 

“Dean...I-I don’t think I can do this… I’m pretty worn out from crying so let’s just say we forget about this night and I’ll go back to my own bed… I’m sorry for being a burden. I’ll just.. I’m gonna go…”

You turned to leave, but not before Dean caught your arm. 

“Whoa whoa slow down, Y/N. What’s wrong? Is it because I took my shirt off? ‘Cause I can put it back on. I’m just used to sleeping without it on is all.”

You sighed and shook your head. 

“No, it-It’s not that. I just… I don’t want this to ruin our friendship ya know? I don’t want things to get weird or anything.”

Dean shook his head and chuckled. 

“So, don’t let it get weird.”

His look went back to firm before he continued. 

“Y/N, be honest with me. How long has it been since you slept, and I mean really slept?”

Your eyes went to your feet, your toe rubbing across a rough spot on the old floor. 

“I umm… I haven’t slept in four days…”

A flash of concern laced his features as he pulled you back into his room. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

He pulled back his covers and got under them before patting the other side of the mattress invitingly. 

“Come here, Y/N. You need sleep just as much as I do. I promise I won’t try anything with you. I mean, I’m a cuddler so, I might do that, but nothing else, I swear.”

You lowered your head in defeat and crossed the room before climbing into bed next to him. He carefully wrapped his arm around your waist, feeling you tense a little, before relaxing. Neither of you talked, but there really wasn’t any need to. You already felt more at ease in Dean’s arms. The smell of his shampoo and pheromones calmed you. Mere minutes later, his breathing evened out, and his light snoring filled your ears. Moments later, you were asleep. 

It became a routine that none of you spoke about. Every night, you would get ready for bed in your room and slip into Dean’s, silently climbing into bed beside him. True to his word, he was a cuddler but instead of the apprehension you’d expected at his touch, you only felt warmth and safety.

He was never inappropriate either. His hands stayed firmly in the safe zones, holding you around your middle if you decided that spooning was the position for you; his lower half was always carefully angled away when you woke up. If you slept curled into his side, he kept his hand on your shoulder or waist, never anywhere else.

The nightmares weren’t dispelled so easily. But being with Dean, they were normally stopped before they were over - he was a naturally light sleeper and the slightest twitch in your slumber had him waking you with gentle reassuring murmurs.

It was three weeks before your first night with no memories assaulting you. You woke with your face against Dean’s bare chest - you’d fallen asleep there the night before. His skin was warm under your cheek and you sighed, closing your eyes and allowing the haze of sleep to keep you still for a little longer.

“You slept well,” he muttered without opening his eyes and you smiled.

“No nightmares,” you whispered.

“Good.” Dean yawned, stretching his arms up. “I think I slept pretty well too.”

The covers slipped down with his movement and you couldn’t help it; your eyes went south to the straining erection that was fighting against the elastic of his pajama pants.

His hand wasn’t fast enough to snatch the covers back up and when you raised your head to look at him, his face was beet red.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “s’morning and everything… y’know.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, patting his chest.

“It’s not,” Dean grunted, clutching the covers over his lap, “you didn’t want this to get weird.”

“You having a…” you swallowed, unsure how to phrase it, “an erection, isn’t weird. It’s perfectly natural.” With a shrug, you slid your eyes away from his, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’d say it’s a compliment.”

He blinked, processing what you’d said before his mouth set in a thin smile. “Can’t help what happens when I sleep next to a beautiful woman.”

You were sure your face was about to burst into flames and you giggled. “Now you’re making it weird.”

Dean smirked - not one of those sarcastic expressions, more playful, devilish. The way you expected he’d look at a woman he wanted to -

“Besides,” you added hurriedly, shifting a little way away from him, “I’m not your type.”

“Who says?” he challenged and you pulled back, frowning.

Dean moved, pushing himself up with his arm. “You say you don’t wanna ruin our friendship but I can’t keep spending the night with you warm next to me and pretending I’m not craving you in every way possible.”

His declaration left you speechless - what were you supposed to even say to that?

Thank you?

Dean chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered and you were struck by the thought that no man should ever look that pretty when asking that question. With scruffy bed hair and sleep lines on his face, Dean managed to look like he’d fallen out of a GQ photoshoot.

Your reply, when you finally forced it out, was barely a squeak.

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours but you couldn’t relax. Your entire body was stiff with trepidation; you felt hot and cold all at once and it took only seconds for Dean to notice your tense posture.

Breaking away, he cupped your cheek, dragging his thumb down to rest on your chin, making your eyes meet his.

“Talk to me,” he urged softly.

The temptation to shut off, to not tell him anything, warred with the need to spill your illogical shame for what had happened. You knew Dean would never blame you but seeing the pity in his eyes would be unbearable.

But he deserved to know what he’d been protecting you from. At least, in part.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve,” you took a shuddering breath, dropping your chin away from his hand, “since I’ve been with anyone. And the last time wasn’t…” Your eyes closed and you tried to forget the rough touch on your skin.

Dean’s hand moved, resting on your hip and the warmth of his touch seeped into you, forcing you to look at him again, letting his gentle touch replace the horror from before.

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you,” he coaxed, smiling softly. “I could never hurt you.”

What you feared most was nowhere to be found in his face. His sincere green gaze focused on you, filled with nothing but lust and affection.

You moved closer, startling him with a chaste kiss, your little moan swept away by his hum of appreciation and when he tugged you closer, you moved with him easily, losing yourself in the warmth of his skin.

Dean didn’t push, letting you set the pace and you were content with kissing, feeling his hands roam your body. You licked into his mouth, breaking only for air; you weren’t paying much attention to the way you pinned him back onto the bed, straddling his lap so you could kiss him and run your hands over his solid chest and stomach.

He laughed, arching when your fingers caught a ticklish spot, which only prompted you to do it again.

“Quit it,” he chuckled, grabbing at your hands but keeping his touch light.

Dragging your right hand to his lips, you sucked in a breath as he kissed each fingertip, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He continued down over the palm of your hand, tracing the throb of your heartbeat to your wrist. By the time his soft lips reached the inside of your elbow, you were practically mush - before he could continue, you used your free hand to cup his face.

“Later,” you promised.

Dean’s eyes sparkled as you rolled your hips, reminding him of the erection straining at his pants. “Fuck,” he groaned, letting his head fall back, “don’t do that.”

“Why?”

The tone of your voice had him narrowing his eyes at you. “Because if you do, I might not be able to help myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

Dean pushed himself up onto one hand, abruptly enough that you squeaked and giggled, smiling when he used the other hand to cup the back of your neck and draw you in for a deep kiss.

“Do you want me as much as I want you, princess?”

You nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise, his nose squished against yours.

“You know you can tell me to stop at any time, right?”

“I know,” you whispered, initiating another kiss, dragging your tongue over his.

Shifting his weight so his back was straight, Dean’s hands landed on your hips, grinding you down harder against his cock. His fingers trailed up underneath the thin tank top you’d worn to bed; he groaned when his thumbs brushed the underside of your bare breasts.

You lifted your arms, letting him pull the top up over your head, giving him full access to your breasts and Dean leaned in, brushing his nose across the top of one.

“You’ve got no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured and you smiled, folding your hands around the back of his head as he started to worship your tits with his tongue.

His cock was twitching against your core and Dean grunted, pushing one hand underneath the covers to shove his pants down.

“Sorry, it’s getting a little uncomfortable down there,” he joked, resuming his attention to your nipples and you gasped when his teeth grazed one solid peak teasingly.

The sudden desire to feel his skin on yours was a full-body craving; you shifted and pushed at your shorts, managing to drag them down without dislodging him.

The sound Dean made when you were finally perched nude in his lap was only amplified when you pushed him back, using your feet to shove the covers down. His cock was warm and throbbing against your bare slit and you whimpered, grinding against him and he broke away from your breast, groaning loudly.

“Fuck, Y/N -”

“Sssh,” you ordered, sliding down his body until you were straddling his thighs, wrapping one hand around his shaft before you could stop and think about it.

Dean’s chin tilted up and the veins on his neck popped with the strained angle of his neck, a low moan accompanying the bob of his Adam’s apple when you licked the tip of his cock.

He kept his hands at his sides, clenching them in the sheets, giving you all the room you needed. It wasn’t something you had an entirety of experience in but Dean seemed happy enough to let you explore, finding the sensitive spots at the base of his length. When you cupped his balls with your other hand and fondled them gently, Dean emitted a noise of pure lust and warmth swelled in your core in response.

Stroking him slowly, you watched a bead of precum seeping from his slit; the urge to taste it was more than you could ignore. The salty tang was worth the way Dean’s entire body twitched and he looked down at you, tucking his chin into his chest.

“You know there are limits to torture, right?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing to stroke him as he moaned under his breath. “Jeez, Y/N, you’re gonna… fuck…”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” you chided, your gaze fixed on the way his cock fit in your hand. Your fingers didn’t quite touch either side, not until you reached the slightly flared head and you suddenly wanted to know what it felt like to have him buried inside you.

The thought was enough to provoke a sudden rush of wetness between your thighs and Dean groaned as you rutted against him, barely acknowledging your own movement. 

A tiny voice in the back of your head stilled your movements, doubt settling in the pit of your belly. Shouldn’t you be frightened of this? After… after him, there hadn’t been anyone and this felt like something that should be shaking you to the core.

But all you could feel was pure adrenaline and desire pumping through your veins; everything was focused on the way Dean felt underneath you, the warm weight of his cock as you stroked him, and the sounds of pleasure he was making.

“Dean,” you whispered, meeting his eyes, “I wanna fuck you.”

He muttered a curse, biting his bottom lip when you released his cock and crawled further up his body. There was no objection - Dean continued to let you set the pace. You lifted yourself, slipping two fingers between your thighs, sinking them into your body.

“Y/N…” Dean muttered, covering your hand with his own, “let me.”

You nodded, letting him take over, whining when he pushed a single digit into you. Just one of his fingers felt bigger than your two, more calloused and filling. He pumped them a few times, smirking when you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, enjoying his slow touch.

All too soon, you grew impatient for more but before Dean could add a second finger, you tugged on his wrist. “Want you,” you pouted, leaning over to kiss away any protest he could make. Lifting your hips, you pinned his hands beside his head, smiling against his lips. “Stay.”

Dean obeyed, groaning when you slipped one hand down to grasp him again, lining his tip up with your soaked entrance. Lowering down onto him, you whined, lifting again when your body struggled to accept the intrusion. With a few more thrusts, you had him halfway inside and his body was shaking with the effort of holding back.

Lifting up once more, you pushed down, taking him to the hilt. The shock of being so full made you yelp and Dean’s hands were on your hips, holding you steady so you could adjust.

“Gah,” you moaned, resting against his chest, “you’re… fuck.”

“Now who has a dirty mouth?” Dean teased and you pulled back, smiling. “Want me to put my hands back?”

You nodded, waiting for him to return his hands to the pillow before sliding your fingers up to lace them with his.

When you started to move, rocking gently on him, Dean closed his eyes, a low rumble in his chest letting you know that it felt good. The way he reacted made you a little bolder and you lifted yourself, letting him withdraw a few inches before taking him to the hilt again. 

“Y/N…”

“What?” you asked, worried you’d done something wrong with the way he moaned your name.

His cheeks were a little red when he answered. “I’m close and you haven’t -”

“Oh,” you blinked, ceasing your movements, unsure what to do, “do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” Dean chuckled. “I just wanna make sure you cum too.” The way he said it, his low throaty voice almost catching on the words, made you shudder and clench around him. “Sit up straight,” he instructed - you obeyed, a little puzzled until you felt how much deeper it let him be.

You moaned, circling your hips as Dean’s jaw clenched. Your lips parted in a little “o” when he responded with a slight thrust, one hand untangling from yours to hover over your mound, his thumb settling just above where his cock was inside you.

“That okay?” he asked and you nodded, squirming needily. Intense pleasure was on the edge of your senses, teasing you with the promise of climax but you craved more. Dean’s thumb traced your clit and a spark made your hips jerk. “That’s it,” he coaxed, “keep moving for me, baby.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you started to rock, much like how you had started. The throbbing inside you increased with each glide of his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Electricity ran through your veins prompting your head to fall back as you whimpered into orgasm.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Dean murmured his other hand on your hip now, guiding your rocking motion when you fell over the edge.

It was calmer than any orgasm you’d ever experience but possibly one of the best. Dean’s climax followed yours within seconds and he stopped touching you, letting you fall forward onto his chest, panting heavily.

Although you’d barely moved, you were sweating, exhausted and more sated than you’d ever felt. An overwhelming sense of calm swept through you; even though your legs were shaking with the effort of simply existing, you felt peaceful.

Eventually, Dean had to move, helping you clean up before he slipped back into bed with you. Neither of you spoke as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you back against his chest, letting you curl into his side.

“Get some more sleep,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, closing your eyes without a reply and letting the last ebbing waves of bliss carry you off.

[hypnos333]

Better Place

Cha Hyunsu x Reader

Synopsis: As Hyunsu turned into a monster you took it upon yourself to sacrifice yourself to turn him back human and you died or so Hyunsu thought

Part 1 - Ill see you again

Chains were wrapped around you as you were on your knees like the life was sucked away from you. You haven’t heard from your monster ever since they tortured you. You lost yourself.

They found you flying and shot you down like a prey. Like you, yourself was a monster….

You don’t know how long you been in the dark room full of chains. It must been long because you were so hungry and thirsty.

Until the chains were yanked off from you. “Get up” Sang-wook said lifting you up to your feet. You groan in pain, almost falling at your feet before Sang-wook held you up until you had balance.

“I-I can’t fly, t-t-they c-cut m-my wings” You stuttered out.

“___ listen to me carefully Hyunsu isn’t himself anymore so I need you to go hide” Sangwook said as he used his monster to get you away.

That was the last time you saw him or Hyunsu.

it’s been days and your monster still wasn’t talking or haven’t taken over. That’s when you found Eun-yoo at night making you follow her. She didn’t mind, she missed you a lot since everything changed.

You were human in her eyes still but every time you get frustrated or hungry your eyes just changes black thats all.

“Don’t you feel at least bad for leaving the soldier?” You asked as you both walked in the night again.

“I would give up anything to let me free except you of course” She answered honestly making you nod before grabbing her hand smiling at her cheerfully.

Until they heard a noise making Eun-yoo panic before pushing you to go hide.

“The people they’re all bad” A little girl said to Eun-yoo as she walked up to her. “Did you say “mom”?” Eun-yoo asked making the little girl ignore her.

“You’re no different” The little girl continued to say before pushing Eun-yoo in a trap hole.

“EUN-YOO!!” You yelled out as your desire to catch her grew strong making your wings grow back but before you could catch her. A familiar man with sharp wings catched her and grabbed you.

He dropped her but he continued to hold you, “Hyunsu?” You gasped as you stopped struggling from a grasp. He smiled before pulling you closer with his one hand before kissing your neck. “Your never leaving my sight again” He mumbled before walking away with his hand on yours.

“Cha Hyun-su” Eun-yoo yelled out making him turn around slowly still holding you like you were his possession.

“Are you really gonna leave like that?” She asked he stayed silent not caring for the girl.

“Were you expecting a hug or something?” He mumbled bluntly gripping you like she was trying to take you away far from him.

“Yea, I was. I was at least expecting a ‘glad to see you’ How’ve you been?” She said disappointed but didn’t show it.

“But i’m not glad to see you, I knew ___ would be with you” He bluntly said.

Hyunsu knew she was gonna rant so he gently pushed you along knowing you were sleepy. The kid leaded you somewhere to wait for him as your wings slowly disappeared.

Minutes later he was back with his arm back to normal, He lift you on his back as you drifted to sleep. Getting your wings back took a lot of energy out of you.

When you woke up Hyunsu was cuddle up next to you. He was creasing your back and you knew he changed you too because you felt more cleaner and less blood on you.

“Where are we?” You asked making him open his eyes and smiled instantly at you.

“In a better place my love I promise” He answered before closing his eyes at you tracing his naked chest as you hum.

For now you two were at peace and united together and that’s all that matters.

[joelswritingmistress]

Neighbors With Benefits: Part 10 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Life felt completely up in the air. It was as exciting as it was anxiety-ridden. The BMW remained at Joel’s house overnight, and even long after you’d gotten home after your romantic romp in the lake, jealousy and insecurity ate away at your core - not to mention every other heightened emotion you could think that you had no idea what to do with.

He said he wanted this, you reminded yourself. Still, there was a looming dark cloud over your inner paradise in the form of the legal situation between Joel and Cecille. Should she try to convince him to take her back, maybe she would be enticing enough for him to agree to it. After all, this wasn’t some high school couple that was simply calling it quits. This was a marriage.

Your racing thoughts disallowed you to have a solid night’s sleep. Each time you awoke you took a glance out the window to see the car beside Joel’s truck. It was torture. When the morning finally did come, you were pleased to see Cicille enter her vehicle ahead of Joel. The question was, was she going to work, or was she leaving for good?

Your phone went off soon after, and you barricaded yourself in your room to take Joel’s call.

“Hey.” The one word practically came out as a sigh of relief.

“Hey.” Joel cleared his throat, “Look, I’m uh, I’m going golfing with your father after work.”

“Oh, yeah,” you remembered, “That was today huh?”

“Yeah.” He paused, “And then I’m going to get a room somewhere for the night.”

“Like a hotel?”

“Yeah.”

“So, is um… is Cecille staying there permanently then?”

“Honestly, things are a bit of a mess, and there’s nothing legally keeping her from being there. She loves to make my life a hell of a lot more difficult when it’s convenient for her, hence why this thing is ending the way it is.”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed.

“I shouldn’t even be venting all that out to you,” Joel went on. “But, I just wanted to let you know that I wasn’t going to be at the house tonight.”

It felt like a crushing blow that you were potentially losing Joel as a neighbor. Having him right next door was exciting and fun. Sneaking back and forth had been an addicting addition to the relationship. To have his ex-wife appearing out of the blue to take the house back over felt unfair, if their verbal agreement had stated otherwise.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“I have to make some calls on my lunch break,” he explained. “And, uh… if you’re around I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’m around,” you explained with a nod, though you knew he couldn’t see the gesture.

Joel hesitated before speaking again. “Thanks for… understanding. I’m sorry for how this all must seem from your point of view.”

“I trust you,” you said to him. “Divorces happen and from what I’ve heard through the grapevine they’re rarely easy.” You paused a second before adding, “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.” Joel sighed heavily on the other end of the line, “I, uh… I’m really lucky to have you, honey.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Despite all the heavy feelings, a smile still formed on your face.

“I’ll text ya the name of the hotel this afternoon.”

“Okay.”

“I, uh, I can’t wait to see ya. I know it’s only been since last night but I got used to you sleeping next to me.”

Your heart went from a steady beat to outright pounding in your chest. “I loved waking up next to you.” And I fucking love you!  You wanted to shout it. You wanted to cry as you told him. The thought of it alone made you want to burst into tears but you didn’t know why. The feelings were so intense and the circumstances were so up in the air that it left you feeling a bit tossed in all directions. It was overwhelming.

“Well, if you’ll have me, tomorrow morning you will.” Pep returned to his voice as he spoke those words.

“You know by now that I’ll gladly have you.”

“Okay, then,” Joel said, “It’s a date.”

That was enough to hold you over. While the long term held some serious questions, the short term had you back to walking on air. Spending the night at a hotel with Joel already felt like a little slice of heaven. No one would know where you were. No one would be there to potentially interrupt or catch you. In your mind, you could play house again and act in your fantasy world like you were husband and wife.

When you made your way back downstairs to see your mother filling her travel coffee mug, you smiled. “I can make the pasta salad for the picnic tomorrow,” you offered, “And whatever other appetizers will hold overnight. Oh, and I’ll set up the volleyball net this afternoon. Dad’s going golfing, I think.”

“Thank you,” you mother said with a smile. “That would be great.”

“Hey, I’m not going to be home tonight, but I promise I’ll be back for the picnic.”

“You’re staying out?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Holly’s?”

“Mm-hmm.”

You mother squinted her eyes. “Is there… something you’re not telling me?” She asked with playful accusation.

“Like what?”

“Well… you barely stay at this house anymore,” she began, putting a hand up before you could protest,” And it’s fine, you’re a young woman, you can do as you please. But, as your mom, of course I’m a little curious.”

Crap. Where was she going with this?

“Are you in some kind of secret relationship?”

“Mom…” You shook your head.

“With some guy… or even with Holly?”

Your eyes bugged out of your head and you began to laugh. “What? Holly’s been my best friend since middle school.”

“It happens.” She shrugged, making you laugh further. It was a relief that she thought of Holly before Joel, though you knew sooner or later you would have to tell her the truth.

“No,” you giggled now, “I can’t wait to tell her you said that.”

“Oh, don’t make fun of me,” she said, shaking her head, “You girls always teamed up on us moms growing up.”

“Some things never change,” you teased, laughing out loud. In the lighthearted nature of your talk, you almost wanted to blurt out the truth and tell her you were in love with Joel. In your heart, you knew a part of her wouldn’t judge, but the other rational part of her would break down every reason why getting involved with him was a terrible idea - and you didn’t need that right then. Still, you decided to be half honest with your mother. “I am seeing someone,” you admitted.

“I knew it.”

You chuckled, “But, I didn’t want to put anyone in an awkward position so I kept pretending I was staying over at Holly’s”

“Who is he? Did you meet him at school? What was his major?”

“It’s still a bit new,” you explained, “But I really… really like him. A lot.”

Your mom’s face seemed to glow. “You’ve never said that about anyone… maybe your high school boyfriend, but…” She shook her head, “Oh, I can’t wait to meet him!”

You already have. A smile lingered on your face but you could feel how forced it was from the tense feeling in your cheeks.

“You will,” you explained, “I promise. In time. I just… maybe don’t tell Dad. It’s a weird, in-between time I’m in. I feel like an adult and a kid at the same time and I’m living with you guys and-”

“I get it,” your mother cut you off, “I’ll keep it between us. I’m glad you’ve met someone that makes you… glow.” She grinned, “I knew it. I knew something was different. He treats you nice?”

“Yes,” you said right away, “Very nice. He’s a gentleman. I think you and Dad have set a good example of what to look for in a relationship.” You winked and decided to butter her up a bit - not that it wasn’t true; but sucking up a little wouldn’t hurt once she found out that Joel Miller was your secret lover.

“Your father and I love each other very much,” she concluded, capping her coffee. Your mother smiled and pointed at you, “He’s a good man.”

“And a great Dad.” You exchanged a kiss on the cheek, “And of course you’re a great mom.”

“Stop trying to make me cry before work.” She cupped your face, “My baby is growing up. And it’s hurting me and making me smile all at once.”

You smiled back at her, exchanged another hug and then parted ways for the day. You spent your day cooking and did a little baking before whipping out all of the yard games for the following afternoon. The volleyball net was a little frustrating to set up alone, but you figured it out. And then you followed with setting up cornhole, staking in a set up for horseshoes and even dragging out a set of folding tables so everything was more or less ready for Saturday.

“Hey!” Joel’s voice caught your attention unexpectedly from next door later in the day.

You whipped around with a smile and had the urge to run across the yard to greet him. You played it cool, of course and smiled, staring at him with your hands on your hips.

“Hey!” You shouted back.

“Straighten out those horseshoe pits! They’re cooked!” Joel smiled wide and winked.

You laughed and bit your bottom lip. “Maybe you should come over and straighten them out.”

“I can’t,” he motioned like he was hitting a golf ball, “I’m play golf with my girlfriend’s father.”

He said that loud enough for anyone to hear, but you realized that no one was home to even question it. It made you laugh out loud.

“Keep you ball out of the rough,” you shouted through cupped hands.

Joel began to laugh out loud. He smirked and put his hands out the sides. “No promises.”

Fuck. You wanted to kiss him. No, you wanted to pounce on him.

“Check your phone in about thirty seconds.”

“Okay.”

“Your dad comped me a room on the golf course,” he went on with a shrug, “Felt bad about what’s been going on.”

“He what?”

“I hope that’s okay,” Joel added.

“Oh, yeah…” You hadn’t realized your shock had translated into some form of disapproval, “Of course that’s fine. That’s a really nice hotel.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, “Check in is any time after four. I’ll still be playing then, but you can go whenever you’d like.”

“Do I just use your name?”

“I know it’s probably risky but I gave both of ours.”

You smiled. “Well, I better go inside and freshen up then. I’ve been sweating out here the last hour.”

Joel looked around in all directions before making the trek over to your yard. Your heart rate began to pick up again and you took just a few, nearly-frozen steps toward him. When he reached where you stood he asked, “When do they get home?”

“I, um.. well-”

“Do you have any butter I can borrow?” Joel smiled playfully, reminiscent of the first conversation you’d had together on the back step.

You smiled back and swallowed hard. “I have whatever you need.”

“Is there time?” he asked more directly, looking you in the eye.

“There’s time,” you whispered back, as if someone might hear you.

Joel looked like he wanted to pull you against him and kiss you; but he didn’t. He let out a deep breath, holding your eye contact until you led him inside the back door a step behind you. When you got inside it was as if he had been overseas at war. You didn’t know if you pulled him to you, or he pulled you to him, but your lips crashed against one another’s.

Wondering if you could get caught was the farthest thing from your mind when your hand was tangled in Joel’s wavy hair. He held you with such force and kissed you with such ferocity that you couldn’t hold back what you were feeling.

“I love you,” you gasped in between kisses, “Fuck, I love you, Joel.”

Joel’s tongue dominated yours harder and you only separated from him because you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He let out a gasping breath of his own and let out several deep breaths into your open mouth.

“I love you, too, honey.” He swallowed hard, pecked your lips and you kissed on another more firmly. Joel’s hand lingered on the side of your face. “I fucking love you.”

CLICK HERE FOR PART 11

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