#the corner of bobby’s panic room

[quietwingsinthesky]

once again. lucifer came out of the cage surprisingly well-adjusted. all things considered.

[wallabywhump]

Tommy’s ears feel like they have cotton stuffed in them.

“I-.” Tommy licks his lips, panic is crawling up his throat at what Evan just said, because it can’t be possible.  “Can you repeat that, babe?”

Evan grunts, and there’s hushed whispers and slamming doors, and maybe a slightly louder noise of Hen yelling in the distance, and Tommy knows the 118 firehouse well enough to know that Evan is hiding in the corner of the changing rooms.

“I said, Gerrard is captain of the 118.” Evan is speaking so quietly that the phone mic is barely picking him up, but Tommy hears him loud and clear.

His heart skips a beat at the confirmation.

“Fuck,” Tommy whispers. “But how?”

“Good question,” Evan hisses. “Bobby quit, and didn’t tell us, and that’s beside the point.”

Tommy nods, it is beside the point. Tommy should be comforting Evan right now, assuring him that they can talk to someone, that it’s okay, this isn’t permanent, and-

Yet, all his brain is repeating is, “were we affectionate at the ceremony?”

Tommy says it out loud without meaning, and he blinks because that isn’t at all what he meant to say, but his mouth is moving without his permission.

“I mean, I don’t know if Gerrard would have noticed if we were, I know I was very stiff, and yes, he knows I’m gay, but he doesn’t know you’re out and-,”

Evan isn’t speaking.

Tommy can’t shut up.

“-and that doesn’t even matter. He was reassigned for discriminatory actions against multiple members of the 118, two of which are still serving, so how is he even back? Who approved this?”

Tommy’s brain is kind of in overdrive, trying to think of how’s, why’s, and fix it, fix it, fix it.

“I reported him for multiple instances of homophobia and racism, and you’re my boyfriend, and he’s captain again, and-,” Tommy takes a deep breath, “shit, I shouldn’t be complaining about myself. You called to commiserate. Shoving all that back into a dark corner of my mind.”

“That doesn’t sound very healthy,” Evan finally says, and it’s deadpan, dry, with maybe a slight hint of sarcasm to it. (Some part of Tommy blames the frequent date nights, and maybe Tommy is rubbing off on him, but also maybe there’s a layer to Evan that Tommy still hasn’t uncovered yet.)

Tommy hums, biting down on his lip to stop himself from spurting anymore nonsense.

“You ask all the exact same questions that Hen and Chimney just asked,” Evan says with a sigh, and then even quieter, and a little defeated. “You were right.”

“I was…right?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Evan says.

Tommy takes a moment to curse past Tommy for being a cynic, despite being right, because he hates that defeated monotone from Evan’s mouth. It sounds wrong. And Tommy caused it.

Deadpan humour and realism may be how Tommy copes, but not even he could have predicted that a disgraced captain would be invited back into their previous role.

“No, no, I’m-,” Tommy groans, and covers the phone mic to say, “shut up, idiot,” to himself, and then uncover it again. He needs to be calm and collected and reassure his boyfriend right now.

There’s the tell-tale sound of alarms suddenly in Evan’s background and the moment has passed. A clang that Tommy knows means Evan just kicked the lockers.

“I gotta go,” Evan says, close to the mic, it sounds hollow.

Tommy nods, but then when he remembers that Evan can’t see that, you idiot, says, “yeah, I can hear.”

Tommy knows that Evan wants nothing less than to go on calls with Gerrard, but over a decade of dealing with the man comes to mind. “Don’t make yourself a target, keep out of trouble, and please, don’t be insubordinate. Just for today. Just until we know what’s happening.” And unspoken don’t mention me, don’t mention your sexuality, hide yourself, just for a day.

“Tommy,” Evan trails off, and there is an unimpressed air to his voice.

Tommy closes his eyes, grips his hands against his thighs. “Please, Evan,” he doesn’t want to beg, but he’s not above it, because he knows Vincent Gerrard inside and out.

Someone yells for Buck, the sirens get louder, and Tommy feels that panic spike again.

“You’ve got to go,” Tommy insists. “Just today,” he repeats.

Evan sighs, loud down the line. “Okay, okay, I-.” Evan curses. “Just today.”  

Relief blossoms in Tommy’s chest, right alongside a kernel of shame that might have found it’s way there during the ceremony and rooted itself regardless of how much Tommy hated it. He hates himself for asking it of Evan, but he doesn’t regret it.

“Thanks,” Tommy says.

Evan snorts. Another person yells for Buck.

“I really-,” Evan starts to say, and Tommy hears the siren and the hubbub of the station as Evan moves through it.

“Go,” Tommy rushes out. “Come over tonight. We can talk about it then, just, at my place. Please.”

“See you tonight,” Evan promises.

“Be safe,” Tommy whispers, hushed, scared that Gerrard might hear him even through Evan’s phone.

Maybe Evan has a similar fear because his reply is equally as quiet. “Of course.”

[lyjen]

Clipboards and utility knives

Summary: When Hen and Eddie are running late for shift, Evan has to jump in to help his girlfriend on a call. But that doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warning: Mentions of blood, guns & bullets and cutting into skin

9-1-1 masterlist :)

With a clipboard in her hand, (Y/n) wrote down the inventory numbers. Hen and Eddie were nowhere to be found and Chimney had a day off. Meanwhile Bobby, Evan and (Y/n) were already at the station, ready for their shift to begin.

Evan walked through the door of the locker room into the open space of the station. When his eyes fell on his girlfriend, who was standing with her back towards the locker room Evan had just left. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she held the pen of the clipboard against her jaw as she was focussing on inventory. He walked towards her and let his arms fall around her neck as he gave her a hug from behind. She flinched, he could tell. He felt how her heartbeat fastened when his arms fell against her skin.

“How is my favorite paramedic doing?” He asked as he kissed her cheek. She smiled, as she turns her head to the side, so she could look at him while he still had his arms around her neck.

“I thought Eddie was your favorite paramedic” she answered and she let her eyes fall back on the clipboard in her hands. “Yeah, don’t tell him. But you’re actually my favorite. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” He laughs, and planted another kiss on her cheek. “Hmmm” she reacted, her answer sounded like a “Yeah sure.” And she wrote another set of numbers down on her inventory list.

She tried to ignore Evan, she wanted to finish inventory as soon as possible. But it was hard when he was hanging around her shoulders, trying to get her attention in every possible way.

“(Y/n)” A familiar voiced called from above. Evan quickly let go of his grip he had on her, and both their bodies turned around. Bobby was standing at the railing from the loft. “Hen called, she is running late. So you’re the PIC until she gets here, okay?” Bobby asked for her agreement. She nodded, “yes cap.” And Bobby left the loft railing, heading towards his office she assumed.

“Ah so you’re the paramedic in charge now huh?” Evan teased her when he turned towards his girlfriend. She smiled as he poked her in both of her sides. “Shut up Buckley, don’t you have anything else to do?” She says as she tries to slap him away with her clipboard, while he poked her one more time. “Well..-“

“Ambulance one-eighteen, injury from a fall. Six, seven, one South Wooster street.” The bell sounded through the firehouse while red alarm light shined through the space of the firehouse. “Guess I’m going with you” he reformed his answer.

“That’s right around the corner.” (Y/n) said as she listened at the street name they just mentioned through the speakers. (Y/n) threw her clipboard on a bench in front of the gym, as Evan closed both back doors on the ambulance. (Y/n) took place at the drivers seat, and drove out of the station in the ambulance with Evan in the passenger seat next to her.

Normally (Y/n) would be driving with Hen, but she was running late, and Eddie was nowhere to be found. Evan couldn’t let her go alone on a call, as paramedics they were always with a minimum of two. Yes, Evan wasn’t really a paramedic, but he had some basic skills he could use to assist (Y/n) with.

When they arrived on location, they needed to enter an alleyway with the ambulance to reach the victim. The man wasn’t hard to find, he was lying on the ground in the abandoned alley, screaming out from the pain he received. Evan and (Y/n) jumped out of the ambulance and hurried towards the injured man.

“Sir where did you fall from?” Evan asked the homeless man, who was still screaming out his lungs. The call at the station said the man fell. “Did you fall sir?” (y/n) tried to connect with the man. “My legs! My legs!” He panics, as he tries to grab his legs.

“Okay, deep breaths. What’s your name sir?” She asked the man, trying to gather more information about the man who was down on the ground. Evan crouched down to meet the man’s height. And pulled the blanket off the homeless man his legs, to try and take a look at his injuries.

His legs were crushed. Snapped in multiple pieces. Evan’s eyes shot at (Y/n) when he saw the wounds. Bones were sticking out of the man’s lower leg.

“Buck get the medic bag and give me a needle with a flask with morphine, would you.” She ordered him. He nodded, and stood up straight when Evan’s eyes fell on a truck which’s engine was still running at the end of the street. The truck was standing completely still. “He didn’t fell, he was run over.” He concluded. And he ran towards the ambulance to get the medic bag and give the man the help he needed.

Evan took out an IV tube from the medic bag and passed a needle with a flacon of morphine to (Y/n). Evan searched for a vein in the man’s hand, while (Y/n) filled the needle with the right amount of fluids. “Get the splint out of the ambulance.” She ordered Evan.

When (Y/n) was pushing fluids through the man’s IV, Evan took out a piece of cardboard they carried with them to make a splint out to put the man’s leg in it to keep it straight. Carefully Buck tried to put the man’s legs in the splint and secured them so they could transport him to the hospital. (Y/n) got the gurney out of the ambulance and put the backboard next to the man so they could get the man easier on the gurney.

When the man was laid back on the gurney they secured the straps of the gurney around the man’s body. “He has passed out from blood loss. Let’s get him to Mercy Hospital” (Y/n) said to Evan. He nodded. (Y/n) secured the last strap around the man. When she noticed a car engine come closer, she looked up and saw a car enter the alleyway. “Who’s that?” She asked Evan. Evan looked at her confused. He was standing with his back towards the entrance of the alleyway. He turned his body ninety degrees to take a look to see what she was talking about.

It was a black vehicle that drove into the alley and stopped. Two men stepped out of the car and started walking towards Evan and (Y/n), who were still taking care of the wounded man on the gurney.

“Hey! We have got an medical emergency here, we need you to move the vehicle.” Evan told the two men. “Buck..” (Y/n) silently spoke as she noticed the two men were pointing a gun towards them. “Hands in the air, and keep your mouth shut.” One of their voices spoke. (Y/n) looked to her right, facing Evan’s blue eyes. As they both raised their hands. “It’s gonna be okay.” He said without a sound.

One of the men roughly grabbed (Y/n)’s shoulder and turned her around. “Hey! hey! don’t touch her!” Evan yelled, as he tried to reach out for (Y/n)’s arm. But Evan got pushed against a concrete wall next to him. Her hands were being bonded together with a cable tie, and so were Evan’s. “Wh- this guy needs to get to a hospital!” She said, unsure what was happening. She groaned as the cable tie started to cut into her wrist because of the tightness. “Just do what we say and nobody gets hurt” is the only thing the guy said. And they pushed Evan and (Y/n) towards the car they used to block the alley with.

“Just let her go man!” Evan said to both of the men, but they just ignored him and continued to push him. “(Y/L/N) Don’t get in that car!” Evan tried to warn her, as she tries to struggle against the man’s strength. She was too weak for the man, and she got pushed into the car.

The man who had a hold on Evan didn’t appreciate the message he told (Y/n). The guy slammed his gun against his eyebrow before he got forced into the car.

………………………….……………………………………

“Anyone heard from Buck and (Y/n)?” Eddie asked when he walked up the stairs after he got dressed into his uniform. Hen shook her head. “Nope, all I know is that they went out with the ambulance about two hours ago. And that was before I got here.” Hen answered to Eddie’s question while she took a sip out of her coffee cup. Hen leaned back against the kitchen counter as Eddie walked into the kitchen now.

Eddie was already hopping around the firehouse for an hour. This morning had been hectic. He was late to bring Chris to school, and ended up stuck in traffic when he tried to make his way to the firehouse. Eddie’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that. Normally they would’ve been back here already. The average call for paramedics is about an hour. And their call was already taking two. Eddie lets his hands rest on his hips. “That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?” Bobby’s voice joined the conversation they were having as he was walking into the kitchen.

“Eddie thinks it’s weird that the ambulance hasn’t returned yet from their call.” Hen answered Bobby’s question. Bobby was thinking. “They’ve been out for two hours now, could they be rerouted to another scene?” Eddie asked. “It could be… let me make a call and see if Buck picks up.” Bobby said as he reached for his phone.

Bobby unlocked his phone and tapped on Buck’s contact in his list. He held his phone to his ear. “That’s weird..” Bobby begins as he removes the phone from his ear, after a few seconds. “It goes straight to voicemail.” He continues his conclusion. Hen and Eddie both gave Bobby a confused look.

“Let me try to reach (Y/n).” Hen said as she picked her phone out of her pocket, while still leaning on the kitchen counter. Phone in the right hand, and her coffee cup in her left hand. She tries to reach (Y/n)’s phone. “Hi this is (Y/n), leave a message after the tone!” Hen clicks on the red button to hang up the phone. “Straight to voice mail.”

“This can’t be right…” Eddie says. “Let’s not freak out yet, I’m gonna call dispatch to see if they have any updates on our ambulance.” Bobby tries to remain calm. But he has a gut feeling that this wasn’t good. Buck always answered Bobby’s phone calls. Buck looked up at Bobby, he saw Bobby as his role model.

“This is Captain Nash, station 118. Do you have a location on our ambulance 118?” He asked dispatch. He waited a few seconds. “We haven’t received a status update from firefighter Buckley and (Y/L/N). However the location of the tracker says that they’re on 671 South Wooster street.” The dispatcher answered Bobby’s question. Every rig had a transmitter on them, so dispatch could see where every team was at every moment. Bobby thanked the person on the phone and hung up. Bobby’s hands clasped together.

“Put on your gear let’s go, we’re gonna take a ride.”

……………………………………………………………….

While they were driving, their radio’s along with their cellphones were thrown out of the car window.

They came to a stop, the men roughly pulled Evan and (Y/n) out of the car. Evan was grabbed by the collar of his button up shirt and (Y/n) at her arms. But as soon as (Y/n) struggled against the touch of the man, he grabbed a hand full of her hair. When Evan heard his girlfriend let out a squeal, his eyes locked on her. “Hey! Don’t you touch her!” He yelled.

“Do you want me to blow out your brain?!” The guy who was holding Evan at his shirt threatened him. He had his gun pointed on his sleep. Evan squeezed his eyes closed, realising that was not his best move. He froze. “Nah, didn’t think so” he said.

(Y/n) knew she had to leave some evidence outside, for her team to know where to look. She always wore her plain ring, it was the ring she got from Evan. A plain ring was one of the few things she could wear during the job. She didn’t have anything else to use as a sign for their team to find them. So she tried to shuffle the ring off her finger and let it drop silently.

Evan felt the metal of the gun leaning against the back of his head, when he got pushed forward inside of an abandoned building. (Y/n) followed after him, the man still had his hand full of her hair. Tears were forming in the corner of her eyes as the man pulled her hair and pushed her forward into Evan’s chest. He couldn’t catch her with his hands, which were still tied together. “Are you okay?” Evan whispered silently, barely audible. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She whispered back.

“Come on man, what do you want?” Evan asked, trying to find out these guys their motive. “You two, are gonna save him.” One of the men pointed his gun at both of them, switching the gun every second between Evan and (Y/n). He pointed behind the two of them. They both turned around, and (Y/n)’s eyes fell on a man lying unconscious on the ground, with a puddle of blood underneath him. The other guy cut their cable ties loose, so they could do their jobs. Save lives.

Evan took a glance at his girlfriend next to him. “You don’t have to do this.” He tried to talk (Y/n) out of it. She was just, staring at the man. But it wasn’t like she had a choice. They were held at gunpoint. “I’ll need equipment if you want me to safe his life.”

One of them grabbed a utility knife, alcohol and some glue. And put that on the table. That was what they were working with. This was gonna be a challenge. “Buck, help me get this man on this table” (Y/n) ordered as she got the unconscious man’s legs, while Evan put out his forearms and hooked them both underneath the man’s armpits.

(Y/n) grabbed the utility knife and poured alcohol on it to disinfect the blade she was about to cut into the man’s neck. She stood at the side of the unconscious man. The man had a bullet stuck in his neck, and they wanted the paramedics help to get it out. Of course they wouldn’t want to go to a hospital with a gunshot wound in your neck.

Trying to get the courage to actually perform surgery in the field. What was she thinking? She wasn’t a trauma surgeon. She wasn’t a doctor. She was only a paramedic. Evan stood next to (Y/n), waiting for her to shout orders. Her breathing became faster, (Y/n) could hear her own heartbeat ringing in her ears. The feeling of panic and anxiety rushed through her veins. She couldn’t do it. Both men were nervously walking behind (Y/n) and Evan.

Buck could sense that (Y/n) was starting to reach her breaking point. He’d do anything he could to prevent that from happening. She would go into a full blown panic attack right now and that’s not what they wanted.

“Let me do it.” Evan offered as he put his hand on her trembling hand which was curled around the knife. And he slightly pushed her away. An impatient voice took over the silence of the room. “Come on! What’s the damn’ hold up!” He said as he violently pointed the gun towards Evan and the other guy pointed the gun towards his girlfriend.

They both held up their hands. “It’s okay, we’re going to help your friend.” Evan managed to say. “Just put the guns away.” He continued. They both lowered their guns, as one of them put his one on an other table.

The men were facing the back of both Evan and (Y/n). Evan took a moment to breathe, as he made a cut into the unconscious man’s neck, trying to reveal the bullet. He couldn’t make the incision too big, but he had to put his fingers through the incision so he could get out the bullet. That’s what they wanted, right? Evan looked into (Y/n)’s eyes and gave her unnoticed the blade of the utility knife, which she shove into her sleeve so it was resting on her wrist.

Evan held out his hand towards (Y/n) who was holding the alcohol in her hand. And she poured the fluid over his hand. She knew what he was going to do. Without hesitation he pushed two fingers inside the wound, and yanked out the bullet. He panted, he actually did it. “Alright. The bullet is out.” Evan announced. “Good.”

One of the guys walked towards (Y/n) as he yanked her arms together. “Hey! We did what you asked, now let us go.” Evan told them. And (Y/n) got tied up again. “Will you shut up!” The other guy sounded when he grabbed Evan at his arm. (Y/n) shuffled the blade of the knife she got in her sleeve, up and down the cable tie when the man left her side.

And it snapped loose.

She was within hand reach of the gun they had placed on a table nearby (Y/n). She didn’t think for a moment and pointed the gun towards the two men. “Drop the gun.” She told the one who was holding Evan’s arms together and holding his gun. Both of the guys stood there with a confused look projected over her face. “I said drop it!” The man took a moment to take in what was happening, and tries to straighten his arm so the gun would be pointed towards (Y/n). But before the man could do that, he received an arm who was yanking him backwards from her boyfriend. The guy tried to pull the trigger as he hit the floor with a bullet.

(Y/n) flinched by the sound of a shot being fired. The other man tried to come closer towards (Y/n). “Don’t come closer” she warned him, as she keeps the gun pointed at the man. “We both know you wouldn’t pull that trigger.” He said calmly, as he took another step forward. “Want to make a bet?” She said challenging the man, as she fired the gun at the concrete wall on her left. But when the man took another step forward. That’s when she pulled the trigger and shot the man in his leg. He was screaming out in pain, and fell to the floor.

While the other guy was still fighting Evan, he tried again to shoot in the direction of (Y/n). But she dodged the bullet. Evan punched the guy in his stomach and onto his sleep so he went unconscious.

(Y/n) felt her knees buckling, like the energy was getting pulled out of her body. She didn’t have the energy to stand anymore. Evan rushed towards his girlfriend as he catches her just in time and pulls her in a hug. Her arms were hanging around his neck, and one of his arms was resting on her waist trying to hold her weight. And the other one was holding her back, trying to comfort her but also to give her support.

Evan lowered them together to their knees, so they were on an even height. Her face was buried into his neck, crying out loud. His shirt was already cresting wet spots because of her tears. “Ssssh, you did great baby. You were so brave.” He tried to comfort his girlfriend. He could see the whole time that she was struggling. Every time he took a glance at her face, he wanted to squeeze her hand. Tell her she was going to be okay. Tell her, she didn’t need to worry because he would protect her. His arm travels from her shoulder blades down to her lower back, again and again as he tries to reassure her she was okay. He pulled back from the hug, and let his hands fell on both her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear rolled over her cheek again. Evan’s thumb brushed the tear away, pushed a kiss to her temple and pulled her into his arms again.

“LAPD, put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers!” A familiar voice rang through the abandoned building they were still in. “Get that guy!” She ordered the other cop behind her as Athena cuffed one other guy.

“Buck! (Y/n)!” Bobby’s voice sounded through the space as they noticed them both on the ground. Blood on their hands and on their faces. Eddie, Hen and Bobby crouched down aside of the hugging couple. Bobby put his hands both on Evan’s and (Y/n)’s shoulder and basically created a group hug when Eddie and Hen also joined in. For this story they were gonna need a lot of therapy sessions.

[callsign-novara]

Hi!!

I love the stalker Valeria story so far and would def like to see a part 2!!!!

STALKER!VALERIA x READER PT.2

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Content warnings: violence, Swearing, paranoia, stalking, dark romance, wlw, obsessive behavior, stalker territory, breif mention on Offing one self, terror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cigarette smoke wafts through the air, the smoke dancing away in the wind. Alcohol on the tounge of the hundreds around, music blaring in the back. Bodies move on the roof of the building, celebrating yet another victory, But she isn't happy, no.

Instead, her mind is filled with frustration, anger, and desperation. Her men are smiling, having fun, celebrating their rightful victory but still..her hearts heavy with hatred. She stands, brushing off her black shirt with her hands, she turns to a gaurd and tells him that she'll be back. She walks through the halls of the well kept building until she's outside roaming the streets of Las Almas, the closer she gets the less anger fuels the flame within her.

Dogs scurry past the woman, tails tremble between their legs. Her steps are confident, eyes calculating. She looks like sweet sweet death, a gorgeous thing but deadly and violent.

Her breaths become heavier when her eyes lock onto her target walking through the slight rain. Her hands are sweaty with excitement as her Prey was about to walk into see the little surprise she left. She's watched you for a long time. Months on end watching your every move, she knows when you leave for work, when you have classes, what classes, when you fall asleep, shower..she knows everything.

She loves how you've become frightened of the night, scared to turn corners waiting for her to pop out of the shadows. But she won't do that, no, she's not stupid. She'll carefully wait, leaving you small little gifts here and there letting you know she's always watching.

She'll make you fear going to sleep without checking your locks a thousand times a night, She'll make you have to check over your shoulder every minute, she'll have you go crazy and then she'll pounce.

She watches from a dark alley way as you make your way up to you apartment. A cozy little place, but it's small.

She could give you so much more. So much better.

She watches you with a wide grin, watching as you freeze when you see her little gift left on you pillow case. She watches the panic, the horror and terror rush through you and she ears it up like candy.

She watches as you check your locks, and close your blinds. She can still see you the gaps of the blinds prominent despite you closing them. The glint of a knife catches her gaze. Pretty and smart, huh? Clever little mouse.

She waits, lurks in the shows outside your apartment for hours on end, just waiting. Soon, she makes her move,stalking up the stairs of the apartment building until she gets yo your door. A couple Bobby pins and a little jiggle and she's in.

Not very safe, no. But nothing can keep her away from you. She glides through the shadows until she's in your room, her footsteps are silent, she's careful not to wake you.

She watches.

Counting the rise and fall of your breaths, you look like a sleeping goddess tangled up in the sheets, and the sight makes her hungry. Hungry for you. Hungry for more.

A smirk crosses her red stained lips, you're just a little mouse running through her maze of fear and Deception. She owns everything in Las Almas Anyway, why shouldn't she own you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you all so so s much for the support on the first part of this, I wasn't expecting much but it seems alot of you like it. And thanks to the anon above, my first ask!! I appreciate it greatly and i hope this part lives up to your guy's standards, a little POV from Vals view.

This story is going to be dark, and I highly suggest you read all the cw before reading. This story will switch povs throughout it and it might get confusing, so I'll always put who's pov it is in the authors note!

Thank you so much again for the support, and the next part should be coming up soon. 💋

~Nova

[mvltisstuff]

lost in the fire - e.b

summary: when visiting the home of a newly divorced couple in their high-security home, things get very heated for y/n and buck.

evan buckley x reader

a/n: based on one of my fav s19 episodes 🤭 also sorry for typos i’m tired and i wanna go to sleep 😁

“damn it, oliver! you called the cops?” the woman yells when she sees the red and blue lights and blaring sirens.

“audrey, there is a fire if you didn’t notice! i called the fire department!” he argues back, then turning to the 118. “my wife was just burning all of our belongings together, and the fireplace just started sparking.”

“ex-wife.” audrey grumbles.

“ok, ma’am. we need to get in there, so why don’t you, sir, come get checked out.” bobby says, leading the husband to henrietta. “we heard there were some difficulties getting in so buck, y/l/n, go see if you can get those doors open and start hitting this thing from the middle.”

“on it, cap.” buck says and the two follow the wife back into the house.

“alright so, i created this whole system to keep this house in line and it’s all programmed a certain way,” she informs the firefighters beside her. she continues to ramble on about how long it took her and how she formed it all.

“ok, well why don’t we open it?” y/n asks, politely but with a little force as well. the woman places her hand on the buzzer of the door, and it buzzes a bright red color. “huh, that’s weird. i’ll try it again.” the second time she places her finger on it, the same thing happens but another warning comes up talking about the attempts left. she pulls her hand back and observes her thumb.

“looks like you blistered it trying to burn all that stuff, it probably won’t work even if you do it a few times.” buck says to her, giving her something to wrap around her blistered thumb.

“well, here, i’ll just try it again.” buck and y/n exchange a look of confusion and doubt that it’ll work, but they wait around for her to try and get the fire revealed to them. “ugh! shit!” they all turn around and look at the door of the garage sliding down into the locked mode.

“no, no!” y/n runs over and hits on the door, realizing she was too late to try and prevent it from closing. “well, that didn’t work. do you happen to have another way to get in?”

“i have a code,” they sigh out of relief because they can already feel the intense heat filling up the garage. “but it’s getting fixed right now. of course, i mean perfect timing for my house to burn down.”

“hey, your house will be ok, we just have to try and figure out how to get through this door.” buck reassures audrey, even though he also isn’t sure how to make it out of here. “when will the system reset?”

she mumbles quietly, looking down at her shoes and taking off her sweater. “maybe a few hours, at least.” buck groans out and looks over to y/n who has a face filled with disbelief. she pulls out her radio and speaks into it.

“cap, it might be a while before we get into the actual house. looks like we’re stuck in here.”

“we gotta get you guys out of there quickly, it is way too hot to be in there for too long.” bobby says, light panic fading through his voice.

“chim! eddie! go grab the jaws and try to pry this door open before our friends get cooked alive. get at the weakest parts of the door and try to break this code.”

————————————————————————

after what felt like days inside that garage, the temperature rises to 110°. they were practically baking inside, with thick beads of sweat falling down their faces. with no water or air, they were already dehydrated and could suffocate in this garage if they could not open it.

the clatter from outside becomes distant as the heat begins to get heavier on their bodies. they are already on the cool cement floor of the room, but even with that, their clothes are soaked. audrey sits over in one of the corners and y/n and buck sit in the other.

“if we ever get married, don’t burn our stuff.” buck says.

“you think i’d burn your stuff?”

“well you never know, that guy clearly didn’t see it coming.”

“we’re firefighters, buck. i think we’d know better.” she smiles at him through the feeling of the sun touching the earth's crust. “at least we’re in here together though.”

buck blushes like he has a middle school crush on her, even though they’ve been dating for a while. “me too, just wish it wasn’t as hot as the devil's ass in here.”

“i wish i had the keys, maybe crank the AC of the car,” audrey says from the corner, eyeing her car.

“AC sounds heavenly, but we won’t have AC again if we get carbon monoxide poisoning from the engine.” y/n tells her, leaning back. it seems like every option they have just get shut down immediately, placing them in more danger.

“buck, y/n/n, how’s it going in there?” bobby’s voice comes in through the radio again.

“pretty good for being in an oven, but uh, get us out please.” buck says. “temps hit 115°”

————————————————————————

heavy breaths and panting have become the only noise in the room. the heat was becoming unbearable, and faith was shrinking as the fire grew. the bangs and hits from outside became almost irrelevant to the heating thoughts in their thumping heads.

“this was not on my bingo card for this year.” buck tries joking around, but neither feels like it anymore.

“save your oxygen, honey.”

“just tell me to shut up, y/n.”

“alright, shut up buck.” she forces out a little smile while slumped against the wall. audrey was their concern, but she seemed to be in the same condition and there was nothing they could do. “i’m getting tired, that’s bad, huh?”

“hey, no, you have to stay awake. we have to get out of here, everyone’s working on it, right?”

“there’s no way they gave up.”

after a few more minutes, feeling like lightyears, they hear several loud hits to the weakest parts of the door. they see something wedge the door, but it’s almost like the heat and stress of the room have closed out their senses to get up and check. with several buttons of their tops undone to try and cope with the heat, they stay still in their spots, losing more and more energy.

the door busts up, and the garage door is thrown up, dents on the outside from the smashing and banging. the vision of the couple fades as they see eddie and chimney walking toward them, helping them both stand up and carry them out. two more paramedics help audrey, removing her from the garage and placing her in an excellent ambulance.

everyone from 118 and even the cops on the scene watch with amazement as the pair comes out in almost full gear, decked with sweat and taking short, slow breaths.

“severe dehydration and heat exhaustion, get them in the ambulance and crank the air conditioning. get them fluids and oxygen masks now!” chimney leads people to each other and y/n and buck sit in their own ambulances.

the relief in their bodies takes a few minutes, but eventually, the moisture evaporates and their heads clear out of the smokey heat. y/n, placed with hen in the truck, asks, “is buck ok? he was really hot, hen. he was so hot in that garage and audrey! is she doing ok, she didn’t look too bad in there, she had fewer layers but still-“

“they’re all okay, y/n. you did well in there. that’s a pretty badass story, too, stuck in an oven basically.” y/n looks out the doors to the ambulance and sees the contained fire, no longer roaring at the garage doors and the ceiling.

“can i see ev?” was her last question. and work from eddie is the same thing happened in his aid car.

“audrey’s good right?” buck asks eddie, pulling the mask away from his mouth.

“she’s fine buck, just relax.”

“where’s y/n? she was sweating a lot in there, barely heard me in there, is she alright?”

being able to stand up strong enough, y/n sneaks her way over to buck. she steps up into the ambulance. “sup, eddie.”

“sup, lava girl.” he teases. “i’ll leave you guys, keep that mask on, buck, or i swear to god-“

“bye eddie!” buck waves to him, smiling and putting the mask back around his mouth.

“pretty bad day, huh?”

“no, not at all.” buck says, surprising y/n. “you were in there with me.”

y/n lets out a cheeky grin at buck and sits closer to him. “you know i love you right?”

“of course, i know that, we just got cooked like hot dogs in there together,” she laughs and he looks into her shining eyes and red face. “and i love you, and i really hope you know that.”

“oh i know,” she says, leaning in to land a light kiss on his lips. he leans more into the kiss as it transforms into a far more passionate one than intended.

“hey!” hen yells from outside. “i left you alone for one minute and you’re already making out where i did not leave you!”

“i’d say sorry but…”

“save it, does eddie know you’re in here too?”

“yeah? he was here when i came in.”

“oh, ok then. diaz!” hen yells and walks away.

“someone’s in trouble with mama hen.” buck jokes and he brings her in for another kiss. “i heard someone say i was pretty hot in there, you didn’t have to flatter me like that.”

y/n slaps his shoulder and chuckles at his sly comments about himself. “i guess you did look pretty hot, but not as hot as that garage, baby.” she caresses the side of his face.

“oh i know somewhere else that gets hotte-“

“buck!” eddie’s voice echoes through the street, looking at buck with his hands thrown in the air. “really? what did i tell you? mask!”

buck shakes his head and then eddie points at y/n. “and you! you made me get in trouble with hen.” he starts walking toward the two of them.

“ok, maybe i should leave for my own ambulance.” she pecks his lips again and skips out of his truck.

“dirty fools, you two.” buck shakes his head and eddie smirks at the two, admiring the relationship they have together.

[buddierecs]

angst buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

a leaf falls on loneliness (highly recommend this fic!!) by: iimpossible_things "buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “i’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. really, he doesn’t. the 118 has too many good, kind people for that. but every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to eddie or bobby or hen or chim, he hears eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.” —you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting— so each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence." word count: 11k important tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, happy ending, original male character catharsis by: rogerzsteven "it only takes one minor inconvenience for buck to have his long overdue breakdown" word count: 5.3k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mental/emotional breakdown, bobby nash as evan buckley parent, multiple pov still by: brewsrosemilk "for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." word count: 9.3k important tags: near death experience, love confessions, happy ending, first kiss august by: daisies_and_briar "buck, eddie, natalia, and marisol go on a beach vacation in august of 2023. It gets angsty and gay." word count: 40k important tags: vacation, eddie/mariol, buck/natalia, mariol/natalia, coming out, feelings confession, sexuality, everyone is queer listen to you breathing (is where i wanna be) by: yavilee "the one where buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone" word count: 41k important tags: presumed dead, major character injury, mutual pining, grief, panic attacks, friends to lovers all that we intend is scrawled in sand (and slips right through our hands) by: withmeornotatall "buck and eddie get trapped together, time is running out, and eddie doesn't want to die alone" word count: 6.9k important tags: near death experiences, major character injury, whump, love confessions, getting together, first kiss

actually, truly by: milenadaniels "helena (and ramon) tries to find a way back into eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding buck around every corner she turns." word count: 14k important tags: multiple pov, season 4/shooting, homophobia, internalized homophobia, recovering from injury, pre-relationship, getting together, team as family, supportive!isabel diaz, coming out i know you're hurting (but so am i) by: justhockey "eddie understands better than maybe anyone else ever could, how it feels to have everything unravel in the palm of your hands. he knows frustration - he knows fury. he’s painfully familiar with that burning rage that crackles in the tips of your fingers, that makes your skin hot and chest tight, and makes you want to punch anyone that dares to even look at you. but that doesn’t give chim the right to lay a damn hand on buck" word count: 3.7k important tags: hurt/comfort, ptsd, feelings realisation, protective!eddie diaz, communication, 5x04 coda i want to reach out by: orphan_account "buck was a very emotional and physically clingy person, he knew this, once he had someone, he held on tight, scared they'd one day leave them. a drunk ana points out that maybe everyone is tired of it, and buck realises: maybe they are." word count: 5.7k important tags: insecure!evan buckley, ana flores bashing, hurt/comfort, touch starved, abandonment issues, love confessions

the aftermath of liberation and love confessions by: elvensorceress "in which eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year." word count: 17k important tags: pining!eddie diaz, idiots to lovers, coming out, love confessions, demisexual!eddie diaz, post 5.09 and this is his life by: shyaudacity "in late june of nineteen ninety-one, mere hours after losing her son to cancer, margaret buckley takes a baby out of the hospital nursery and decides to bring him home" word count: 26k important tags: established relationship, kidnapping, emotional hurt, panic attacks, flashblacks, comforting!eddie diaz mirror, lie to me, tell me you can see by: anonymous "buck struggles with food and his body. it's not new." word count: 20k important tags: TW: eating disorder, established relationship, hurt/comfort, protective!maddie buckley, marriage proposal, sibling love, caring!eddie diaz without you, i'll never be home by: the_forgotten_nobody "after the tsunami, eddie invites buck to stay with him and christopher." word count: 45k important tags: hurt/comfort, post-tsunami/season 3, anxiety, separation anxiety, pining, sharing a bed

[fanfictionalraven]

Piece by Piece Pt. 12

Title: Piece By Piece 12

Summary: Everything that happened after the apocalypse didn’t happen.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Castiel, Original Characters

Word Count: 1,644

Warnings: N/A

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Piece by Piece Pt. 11 here.

Dean pulls the impala into the driveway and gets out quickly, running around to the passenger side. He opens the door for you and holds his hands out. Laughing, you take his hands and pull yourself out of the car.

“Dean, I’m fine,” you tell him. He rolls his eyes then moves to the back seat as the door to the house opens.

“You’re home!!” M.K. calls, following Sam onto the porch. You look over and smile as she runs down the stairs and over to you.

“I told you we were coming home today,” you laugh as she wraps her arms around you. You both look back as Dean carefully pulls the tiny bundle from the carrier in the backseat, cradling your day and a half old son in his arms.

“Can I hold him again??” M.K. asks, bouncing on her toes. You nod, running a hand over her hair.

“Soon as you’re inside and sitting down,” you tell her. She nods and runs back up to the porch where Sam is waiting. A baby’s whimper draws your attention and you look back at Dean. He rocks slowly as he walks, shushing the baby boy. You smile softly as you think back over the last few months.

Dean and Sam had made it back to Bobby’s safely, having successfully stopped the apocalypse. You’d agreed to stay with them for a little while, laying low in case rogue angels or demons decided to come after any of you. There had been a couple of attempted attacks but they’d managed to keep you and M.K. safe. Sam stayed in the panic room, detoxing from his apparent demon-blood addiction.

It wasn’t long until everything calmed back down and you were able to return home, Dean with you. Sam stayed with Bobby, continuing to hunt. Dean filled his time for a couple months as a stay-at-home dad before he’d decided he needed to be doing something. He picked up a part-time job at the local auto shop and made a rather big impression on the owner. He’d been promoted to manager within a month.

When you’d gone into labor two days ago, you’d gotten lucky. Sam was in for his usual visit and was able to keep M.K. at home while Dean rushed you off to the hospital. Dean had been a trooper, holding your hand and coaching you through the birthing process. You’d only snapped at him twice for being too encouraging. “Hey,” Dean says, stopping next to you. You blink and look at him. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” you tell him, kissing him quickly. “Let’s get little Johnny inside.” He smiles widely and nods. The two of you make your way up to the porch and Sam reaches out to help you. “I’m fine,” you laugh. You stand up and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for watching her.”

“Just don’t ask her what we had for dinner,” he says. You laugh again and shake your head, following Dean into the house. M.K.’s sitting on the couch, waiting as Dean makes his way over.

“Remember,” he says.

“Keep my hand behind his head,” she says, rolling her eyes. He laughs and she holds her arms out. He lays the baby into her outstretched arms and sits down next to her, helping to support him. Sam ushers you to a chair in the corner quickly. You lean back, stretching, and sigh.

“Bobby’s on his way,” Sam says. Dean looks up at him and smiles, nodding.

“Good. Gotta meet his grandson,” he says. Sam laughs lightly.

“Those were almost his exact words. He still hasn’t fully admitted it yet,” he says. You smile and shake your head.

“He’s the only one they’ve got,” you say. Dean smiles more and looks back at M.K.

“Was I this little?” She asks, looking at you. You smile at her and nod.

“You were even smaller, actually,” you tell her. Her eyes widen as she looks back down at her baby brother. Suddenly, there’s someone else standing in the room with you all. Sam instinctively takes a step in front of you before relaxing.

“Cas,” Dean says, his eyes widening slightly. “Long time, man.” You hadn’t seen or heard from the angel since he’d left you at Bobby’s house those several months ago. Cas smiles a little.

“I’m sorry. Things in Heaven were rather…unsettled,” he says. Dean nods slightly.

“Is everything okay?” He asks. The angel nods quickly.

“Everything is well. That’s why I’m here. First, to update you. Zachariah and the angels who helped him were put on trial. They’ve been locked away and we are returning to our original purpose; watching over humanity,” he says. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and Cas looks over. “I also came to congratulate you on the birth of your son.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, smiling. He nods and looks back at Dean as he carefully takes the baby back from M.K. He rises from the couch and walks over to Cas who looks down at the tiny bundle curiously.

“He appears healthy,” Cas says. Dean laughs lightly and nods.

“He is,” Dean tells him. Cas looks up at him.

“What did you name him?” He asks. Dean smiles proudly.

“Johnathon Dean Winchester,” he says. You stand, Sam reaching to help you again, then walk over to him.

“And he probably wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t help us. So, thank you,” you tell him. Cas merely shakes his head.

“I only did what I felt was right,” he says. You reach out and pull him into a tight hug. He stands there awkwardly for a moment before slowly returning the embrace.

“Thank you,” you say again. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before letting him go. He smiles widely and nods before looking around.

“I should return to Heaven. If you need anything, just pray. I’ll hear you,” he says before disappearing. You smile and turn to Dean, looking down at your son.

“You hear that, Johnny? You’ve got a guardian angel,” you say, running a finger over his cheek. His little hand wraps around your finger and holds it close to his face. A knock on the door draws you from the moment and Sam rushes to answer it. He steps back into the living room and M.K. stands up on the couch.

“Grandpa Bobby!!” She exclaims, reaching to hug him. Bobby laughs and shakes his head as he walks over, wrapping his arms around her tight. You manage to slip your finger out of Johnny’s hand so Dean can show him off again. Bobby kisses M.K.’s temple quickly before letting her go as Dean walks around to him.

“Here ya go, Grandpa,” he says, holding him out. Bobby’s eyes widen as he carefully takes little Johnny into his arms.

“You know how long it’s been since I held a baby this tiny?” He asks, glancing up at Dean who rolls his eyes.

“I’ve never held a baby that tiny,” he says. Sam lets out a laugh.

“You probably held me when I was that little,” he says. Dean snorts and looks at his brother.

“You really think you were ever that small?” He asks. Sam rolls his eyes and you can’t help but laugh at your beautiful little family. M.K. jumps down from the couch and comes over to you now. You lift her up into your lap and all three men look up quickly.

“Careful,” they all say at the same time. You and M.K. both start to laugh.

You spend the rest of the afternoon, confined to your chair as Dean, Sam, and Bobby take care of the kids. M.K. picks burgers, naturally, for dinner and she and Bobby go out to get them. After dinner, Dean gets M.K. ready for bed and tucked in. You feed Johnny before taking a shower. As you walk back into the bedroom, running a towel over your hair, you watch Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking Johnny.

“Are you humming Metallica to our two-day old?” You ask with a light laugh. He looks at you as he rises to his feet and smirks.

“It worked,” he whispers. You smile softly and shake your head as he makes his way across the room. He lays the baby boy down in the crib and carefully drapes a blanket over him. You walk over and stand next to him, looking down into the crib. He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you,” he says softly. You look up at him and smile softly.

“I love you too,” you tell him. He leans in and kisses you gently.

“You need rest,” he says, pulling you towards the bed. You laugh lightly and nod, knowing better than to try and argue with him. He was doing what he’d always done since the night you’d met, what he’d been doing for M.K. over the last year and Johnny for the last two days. He was taking care of you.

As you lay down on the bed, Dean coming to rest next to you, you can’t help but think about how much you’d changed since meeting him. You’d lost all hope of ever having a family of your own or someone who genuinely cared for you. Even after you’d had M.K., you’d never expected to have Dean in your life again. You’d been happy with just M.K., of course, but now you knew that your little family was complete and whole, and Dean wasn’t going anywhere ever again.

He’ll never walk away, He’ll never break her heart, He’ll take care of things, he’ll love her, Piece by piece, he restored my faith, That a man can be kind and a father should be great.

[tizniz]

WIP Wednesday 🌙

Tagged by the cruel @diazsdimples because he's mean. He knows what he did. And also tagged by the lovely @theotherbuckley :)

In other news: @bucksbackwardcap has me writing some of THE softest stuff I have ever written in my...nearly 20 years of writing. And I am LOVING it.

Cannot wait to share all of 3 Men 1 Baby with you. But that requires me finishing it. So here's a snippet for now:

“Everyone,” Buck says loudly to the room, Bobby moving to his wife’s side, winding an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her temple, “I’d like to introduce you to Mia Buckley-Diaz-Han!” “Nope!” Chim immediately calls out, shaking his head, crumbs on the corners of his mouth. “I am not part of this. I will be the happy and helpful uncle.” “Just without the happy or the helpful.” Eddie comments drily, smirking at the glare Chimney sends his way. It was all in good fun; Chim had actually been very hands on since Mia had been brought home, and was happy to help her out. Even if he did panic and call for help the moment she showed the slightest hint of a cry. “Shut it, Daddy Diaz.” Chim fires back. While the rest of the room snickers at the nickname, Eddie’s attention is caught by Buck and the very subtle sound he had made. And how his cheeks were flushed as he kept his head tilted down to fuss over Mia, who needed absolutely no fuss right now whatsoever. “If Chim is Uncle, and Eddie is Daddy,” Hen says with a sly smirk, “What does that make Buck?” “Oh. Uhm. Well.” Buck’s eyes dart over to Eddie’s for a split second, enough for Eddie to see the glimmer of hope that is almost immediately extinguished. Because this wasn’t forever. Buck wasn’t going to be a dad. Not right now. “Papa always had a nice ring to it.” Eddie says gently, stepping closer to press his shoulder into Buck’s, wanting that happiness back in his best friend’s eyes. “What about that?” “Papa.” Buck repeats, smiling at Eddie and then down at Mia, who smiles back up at him. “I like that.”

No pressure tagging: @daffi-990, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @monsterrae1, @hippolotamus, @disasterbuckdiaz, @epicbuddieficrecs, @elvensorceress, @l0v3t0hat3y0u, @spotsandsocks, @wildlife4life, @jesuisici33, @evanbegins, @loserdiaz, @housewifebuck, @shitouttabuck, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaaz, @spagheddiediaz, @fortheloveofbuddie, @devirnis, @cal-daisies-and-briars, and anyone else who needs an excuse to post 🩵

[writingsbyren]

You in January | J.S.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!Reader

Warning(s): Language, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, minimal use of Y/N

Summary: Reader comes to the realization that her heart belongs to someone that is not her fiancée. The only problem? It’s a little too late considering that it’s her wedding day.

Nestled away in the bridal suite, she had a perfect view of where the ceremony would take place outside. She watched as family and friends made their way over, taking their seats in front of the custom, handcrafted alter that was draped in lush greenery.

Everything was perfect. From the bright blue Texas skies that hung above without a single cloud in sight to the freshly cut flowers arranged in beautiful, ornate bouquets that hung at the start of each row. Her heart raced, pounding inside of her chest as the crowd grew in size. Today should be the happiest day of her life. Instead, she was petrified.

As the last of her bridesmaids received final touches to their hair and makeup, panic started creeping in. The sudden tightness in her chest making her feel as though she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. “Are you ready?” A voice asked. Her throat burned from the knot that had formed as she turned to find her maid-of-honor, lips barely turning up as she forced a tight smile. “I just need a minute.” To her surprise, she managed to speak without her voice wavering. Her lifelong friend nodded before ushering everyone out of the suite and into the hall. “Take as long as you need. We’re ready when you are,” she murmured before closing the door.

Slowly, she strolled to the floor length mirror, eyes studying her reflection. The perfect amount of makeup on her face, enhancing her natural beauty and highlighting her best features. Hair styled exactly as she pictured it when she was a young girl, daydreaming about her future wedding. The long, sheer veil that was pinned to the crown of her head, secured by what felt like fifty bobby-pins. Then there was the dress. Despite the picture perfect image before her, she was falling apart on the inside.

With visibly shaky hands, she reached down and grabbed the skirt of her dress, bunching the material in her palms as she stormed to the doubledoors that lead from the bridal suite to the hall.

Opening the door less than one inch, she called for her maid of honor. Immediately, she answered “Yeah?”

She gripped the door handle, knuckles turning white as she swallowed back the bile in her throat. “Is Jake here?”

“Of course, he is.”

She exhaled, unaware that she was holding her breath in the first place. “Can you get him for me?”

“I don’t think we have time for t-“

She opened the door a little wider. That’s when her eyes met her friend’s, a pleading look on her face as she spoke, “I need to see him.” With an understanding nod, her maid-of-honor took off.

Growing tired of pacing due to the heavy weight of her gown, she crumbled to the floor in the corner of the room, a mess of tulle and chiffon pooled around her.

“Y/N?”

The sound of her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the steady noise from the hall until she heard the sound of his voice. When his green eyes met hers, everything went calm. No one else had that kind of effect on her. After shutting the door behind him, he quickly stormed over to her. “Sweetheart,” He drawled as he crouched down in front of her, pulling her into his chest. “Come here. I’ve got you.” He hugged her tight as she clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen. That’s when the dam broke, tears that were sitting on her lash line finally spilling over, falling down her cheeks as her panic attack took over.

“I can’t do this,” she sobbed into his chest. Carefully, he cradled the back of her head with one hand. “Shhh, it’s okay.” With his free hand, he rubbed up and down her bare back, trying to sooth her. “Don’t talk like that. You can do anything you want to,” he encouraged, clearly under the impression that she was suffering from cold feet. Normal wedding day jitters. She shook her head from side to side, pulling back enough to peer up at him. “I don’t want to marry him,” she whispered, watching his eyes widen in surprise. He opened his mouth but quickly closed it, still trying to process her words. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, green eyes searching her face. For what, she didn’t know. “I’m sorry,” he paused, running his hands down the length of her arms before taking her hands in his. “What was that you said?” She sighed, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath, grounding herself before saying, “I don’t want to marry someone I’m not in love with.

She fully expected to find him staring at her with a dumbfounded expression when she opened her eyes or for him to bombard her questions. But when her eyes opened, there was Jake in all his glory, handsome and calm as ever. “Okay,” he murmured, getting to his feet, pulling her up with him. “What do you want to do?” He reached forward, taking her face into his warm palms before carefully wiping the tears from her cheeks with a gentle brush of his thumb. A sigh fell from her lips at his touch. He always treated her like fine china. “I just want to get out of here.”

He stopped thinking and tapped into his instincts, jumping into action. “Then let’s get out of here,” he drawled, gazing into her eyes, wearing his signature shit-eating grin. Moving quickly, she dashed to the vanity to retrieve her purse. She threw her phone inside before placing the strap over her shoulder. “Are you sure about this?” He asked one final time, extending his hand to hers, smile still in place. He didn’t doubt her for a second but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself without asking one last time. When her hand met his, it was the only thing he needed before emerging through the double doors, heading directly for the back exit.

Thankfully, luck was on their side as the hall was empty, making their run for the parking lot uneventful.

Except it turned out running across asphalt in a wedding dress was no easy task, so she tugged him to an abrupt stop, which allowed her to remove her stilettos from her feet. “Here,” he laughed, grabbing her heels in his hand before taking back off. She laughed, the sound music to his ears as her veil trailed in the wind behind her.

The couple arrived at his truck and he swung open the door for her to climb inside. Moving as fast as he could, he lifted her dress into the cab, stuffing it inside, making them erupt in laughter. The idea of changing crossed her mind for a split second but she couldn’t spend another second at that venue. “Jake,” she laughed, pulling the remainder of the fabric inside. “It’s fine,” she assured him before he finally shut the door. He rounded the front of the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat, tossing her shoes over his shoulder and into the back floorboard before he started the engine.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed, pulling onto the open road. “That just happened.” The reality of her actions started to sink in. She expected to feel regret, maybe even remorse. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, she felt nothing but relief. She smiled, glancing over at her best friend, who was now her personal savior. With his eyes forward, focusing on the road ahead, she took in the sight before her. Considering the dress code the groom established, she fully expected for Jake to show up in his dress whites. A silent ‘fuck you’ to her former fiancé, who Jake tolerated for her sake. The simple, yet classic suit he dawned would have looked nice on someone else but on Hangman? The look would have brought her to her knees, if she hadn’t been sitting in the cab of his pickup. He’d never looked better. “Y’alright over there?” He asked, glancing over at her with worried eyes. As she nodded, he reached over the console, placing his hand into her lap. “Never better,” she murmured, smiling from ear to ear. His eyes returned to the road but his own smile remained.

After a short, quiet drive, they pulled into the familiar drive at his place. It was a cozy, two-bedroom house, where she felt more at home then anywhere else. She tried to tell herself that it was because she watched over the place when he got called to different duty stations, thus making it feel like a second home. But she knew, deep down inside, it was because everything inside screamed Jake. From the University of Texas memorabilia scattered throughout the house to the countless medals proudly on display, reminders of him were everywhere. The moment they stepped inside, she visibly relaxed. He had to bite back a chuckle as she plopped down on the couch, happily sighing as she ripped the veil from her head. “Do you want to change?” He asked, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. They purposefully left their phones in the truck. “Yeah. Definitely,” she chuckled, looking down at her gown. He disappeared into his bedroom, while she focused on removing the never-ending bobby-pins from her hair.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to shower first, so I laid some clothes out on my bed,” he stated, returning to the living room. She looked up, watching as he shrugged out of his coat before his finger went to work removing his tie. “Figured you could use my bathroom.” Taking a break from her hair, she got to her feet. She strolled to his bedroom, the sound of her dress dragging against the hardwood. She didn’t bother trying to pick it up. She didn’t care what happened to the garment, it was no longer serving a purpose for her. “Jake,” she paused, standing in his doorway. “Thank you.” His lips tuned up into a soft smile as he headed for the kitchen. Shaking his head, he replied, “Go shower. I’ll make us something to eat.”

Standing in front of his bathroom mirror, she finished removing the remaining pins from her hair, silently cussing her hairdresser. As she tossed the final pin onto the counter, an exhausted sigh fell from her lips. Soon, she’d have to explain herself to the very same family members and friends that were in attendance to witness and celebrate her nuptials. But today wouldn’t be the day. Desperate to shower and climb into bed, she reached behind her back to unzip her dress. “Come on,” she muttered to herself, blindly reaching around, feeling for the zipper. It was nowhere to be found. She turned, putting her back to the mirror when she realized why her attempts were coming up empty. The zipper was inconveniently placed directly in the center of her back, completely out of her reach. Without thinking twice, she called for help. “Jake! Can you come here?” When he entered the bathroom, he found her leaning against the counter, a defeated look on her face. He lifted his brows in silent question and she straightened. “Can you unzip me? I can’t reach the damn thing.” She turned, pulling her hair over her shoulder, presenting her back to him. He mumbled a quick ‘mhm,’ before reaching for the zipper.

Looking in the mirror, she met those green eyes that always seemed to stop her in her tracks. The serious expression on his face surprised her, almost as much as the way he gripped her hips in his hands, zipper seemingly forgotten. He leaned down, resting his chin on her shoulder, eyes peering into her soul as he spoke, “I want you to know there’s never been a more beautiful bride.” While she fought to hide the fact that she was blushing, his lips pressed to her bare shoulder before he completing the task at hand. After unzipping her dress with ease, he retreated to the kitchen, leaving her a flustered mess.

Inside his room, standing at the foot of his bed, wrapped in the coziest towel to ever exist, she admired the clothes he selected. Beside a pair of dark gray sweats was a single shirt that she easily recognized as one of his favorites. A plain, white long-sleeved cotton t-shirt with the infamous Gilley’s logo on the breast pocket. She remembered making the purchase like it was yesterday, sending it to him while he was originally at Top Gun. It was their favorite movie to watch after a night downtown. She slipped the sweats on first, rolling the waistband down three separate times, so the length fit her better. But as soon as she tugged the shirt over her head, the smell of Jake clouded her mind. Inhaling deeply, the stress from the day quickly dissipated.

After her shower, she joined Jake in the dining room, where they ate the most incredible spaghetti she’d ever had. Mid-way through dinner, he broke out her favorite bottle of mine, while he indulged in whiskey. She was working on her second glass when he asked her, “How are you feelin’?” He sat his glass on the table before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. She usually loved having his undivided attention but this time was different. No one knew her better than he did, so she knew pretending was pointless. He’d sense her lies within an instant. “Relieved,” she admitted with a sigh before taking a quick sip. “He wasn’t the one. I’ve known that for a long time now.” Lifting her eyes to meet his, she watched his brows furrow. “Why were you with him?” A simple question with a heavy answer. It was time for her to face the music. “I was settling,” she admitted with a slight shrug, swirling the wine in her glass, avoiding his gaze. “Why?” Her stomach twisted into a knot. Here went nothing. She downed the rest of her drink before she answered, “I didn’t think the person I was in love with would ever love me back.” She leaned forward, carefully placing her glass on the table top and pushing it back until it was completely out of the way. There was a breath, followed by a short pause before his hand found her knee. He cleared his throat.

“Who?”

“I think you and I both know the answer to that.”

The corners of her mouth turned up the slightest bit as she met his gaze. All the air left her lungs when he smiled at her. “January,” he muttered, million dollar smile never leaving his handsome, clean-shaven face. “Come again?” She asked, lifting her brows in confusion, which earned a laugh from her best friend as he shook his head. “It was January. Six years ago. We were at Dalton’s house for a party. You were talking to some girl, whoever he was dating at the time. You had on a red sweater and your favorite pair of jeans that always drive me crazy,” he admitted with a soft laugh, while she blushed five different shades of red. Sliding his hand from her knee, he grasped her thigh as he continued, “You had your head back, fake laughing like it was your job. That’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I loved you.”

Convinced that her heart was moments away from leaping out of her chest and onto the table, she sank further into her chair as his confession replayed in her mind. “Why didn’t you say something?” She asked, laughing lightly. He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders calmly. “I didn’t think you felt the same. I guess I was afraid you’d reject me.” There was that grin again. “Oh, yeah. Rejection. Guess that’d be a first for Hangman, huh?” She teased, making him roll his eyes as they laughed.

After a moment of silence, she took a deep breath, gathering her nerves as she stared into his gorgeous eyes. “I’ve loved you from the very beginning.”

Her words wiped the smile from his face as his eyes flickered from hers to her lips. Finally inching closer, he cupped her cheek with his free hand, lips meeting hers. Prior to kissing him, she thought the sparks that people referred to in romance novels or cheesy romcom movies was total bullshit. But as her lips molded to his, she experienced it firsthand. Electricity radiated throughout her body as his hands found her hips, pulling her on top of him effortlessly. With one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, she used her other hand to play with the wisps of blonde hair at the nape of his neck. When Jake deepened the kiss by slowly licking the inside of her mouth, she melted in his strong arms.

She pulled away, completely breathless as she gazed into his eyes. “I love you,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. He closed his eyes, allowing the words to wash over him. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing his right cheek. “I love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. “I love you.” A quick quick peck to his lips.

He couldn’t stop grinning as he stared at her in total admiration. “I love you,” he murmured, breath fanning across her face. Cradling her cheeks in the palms of his hands, he nuzzled the tip of her nose with his. “I’ll love you ‘til my last breath,” he promised before finding her lips again. The way his lips moved against hers, his tongue inside her mouth, his hands in her hair, she knew he meant every word.

She knew that her actions were selfish. Stringing her fiancée along for years, knowing that ultimately, he would never own her heart. No matter how long she ran from it or how much she tried denying it, there was no one else for her except Jake Seresin. As if he could read her mind, he mumbled against her lips, “Tomorrow.” He smiled, kissing her jawline. They would face the mess that she created head on. But more importantly to her, they would deal with it together.

[thewolvesof1998]

Last Line Tag/Inspiration Saturday

Tagged by the lovely @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie @rainbow-nerdss @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @forthewolves @giddyupbuck

Okay so I did say yesterday that this WIP was going to stay as notes but I couldn't help myself so here's the inspiration:

and the Last Line...paragraph...s:

“And why do I have the displeasure of you darkening my doorstep, Buckley?” The man in question gives him a roguish smile and leans against the bar in a move that is purposely meant to highlight his bulging biceps, Eddie does not look at them, “Well the boss is here to see the old lady and I thought you could use some company.” Eddie could spy Athena and Nash held up in one of the inn’s darker corners and sure enough there seemed to be more than business going on between them. He looks away, he wasn’t being paid to be nosey, he’s paid to man the bar and be some muscle if any of the patrons get a little too rowdy.  And if Athena wanted to be in bed with as well as in business with the kind of man Bobby Nash is, it wasn’t any of his business. Expect for the six-foot-two problem in front of him, who just couldn’t seem to take a hint. Buckley is trouble, Eddie can see it from a mile away and trouble is the last thing he needs right now.  “Dad!” A high-pitched voice calls and Eddie turns to look at his son as he pokes his head out the back room. Panic fills him, he does not want any of the patrons to know that his son is here, while he’s incredibly grateful to Athena for allowing Chris to be here while he works, the people who frequent this place are questionable at best and at worst Mr Nash and his crew and their less than legally sourced goods. He might not be his business but it doesn’t mean he isn’t aware of the goings-on. One might leave the Navy but its teachings never truly leave you and Eddie can tell a pirate from a mile away. But it’s not his business and he really needs this job so he keeps his head down and Chris as separate from it as he possibly can.  Eddie crouches down in front of him, blocking him from view as much as possible, “Chris, what did I say? Stay out-” “-Back, I know, but I’m hungry,” The young boy whines and Eddie can’t be angry when those coco-coloured eyes gaze up at him.  “Here,” Bucklet leans over the bar, holding out a big orange to Chris.  Chris’s eyes are almost as big as the orange as he stares at it, his hands reactively reach for it before he turns to Eddie, “Can I Dad?” He asks, obviously remembering the rule about not accepting things from strangers.  Eddie looks at Buck, trying to read the man's intentions, all of the possible reasoning racing through his head must show on his face because Buckley raises his other hand, “No strings,” He says. Eddie nods and Chris stretches the last few inches as takes the orange, it looks comically big in his son's tiny hands, “Thanks, mister.” “Buck, it’s what my friends call me.” “Thanks, Buck!” Chris says Eddie ruffles Chris’s hair, “Okay buddy, head out back, I’ll be in there shortly.” Chris nods before turning around, one hand gripping on doorframe as he slowly and carefully retreats.  Eddie watches him go, the underlying worry he always feels about his son and the illness that affects his movements making him briefly forget the audience he has.  “He’s super adorable,” Buckley says, Eddie whips his head around to look at him, “I, uh, I love kids,” He rambles, one hand scratching at his neck, a flush on his cheeks as pink as the mark on above his eyebrow and corner of his eye.  As far as Eddie can tell, Buckley is being sincere, “I love this one,” He says standing, “I’m all he’s got. His mother’s…not in the picture.” He doesn’t know why he says it, why he’s being the most honest he’s been in a while with a man he has every reason not to trust. “Buck, we’re going,” Nash calls from the door.  “Be right there Cap,” Buck nods farewell to Eddie, “Until next time Diaz.” He walks over to his captain, shooting a wink over his shoulder at Eddie before he steps out the door and into the night. Eddie sighs, definitely nothing but trouble. 

tagging: @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @bekkachaos @buddierights @911-on-abc @shitouttabuck @911onabc @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @sammy-souffle @smilingbuckley

[thehermitsaltar]

Kurt Kunkle x male reader

Where he kidnaps the reader & has been stalking him online.

+ forces reader to wear a collar with his name on it

Maybe consensual sex later on because reader is really into it?

Tied up kink, marking kink.

A/n: This is the best request ever<3333 this request was so good that I had to do it immediately

Kurt Kunkle x Male reader

Warning: Smut, sort of dubious but everything is consensual.

All it took was looking away for just one second. Looking away from your mixed drink, coming back to it, unaware of what happened and what was stirring inside it. You downed the rest of the alcoholic drink in one gulp, your throat burning as your cup empties.

Your skin started to tingle and your vision became fuzzy and unfocused. You couldn't keep your thoughts straight, only feeling your skin heat up and the need for air rising above the haze. Pushing your way toward the door on clumsy feet before tripping on something. That's when it all went black. You don't even remember falling, or maybe you didn't fall?

You woke up and every muscle in your body felt too heavy to move, even opening your eyelids seemed like a challenge. Instead of looking, you focused on what you felt. Wrists pulled behind your back, tied together with metal handcuffs that dug painfully into your skin. You tried to shift out of the binds only to find them too tight, and now you realized you were tired to a chair, and you weren't alone.

You froze when you heard frustrated mumbling in the room and someone moving around, the sound of feet and things shifting heard around you. You couldn't help the groan bubble up in your throat at the dull ache becoming present in your joints.

"Sh-shit." The person mumbled before they stood in front of you. Finally fluttering your eyes open, cringing at the bright light, trying to adjust. "You're awake." The voice spoke again, a hint of relief in his sigh. Your vision focused on the floppy haired brunet in front of you. He was scrawny, and tall, considering the way he hunched over to be a few inches from your face.

You opened your mouth to say something, anything but all that came out was a soft rasp, throat dry and sore. Swallowing and trying again with better success. "Who are you?"

The man's face scrunched up before it cleared into a wide grin. "Im-im Kurt. I'm your biggest fan!"

Your face must have matched your confusion by the way Kurt giggled and leaned a little closer, his nose brushing yours while your eyes almost went cross with how close he was.

"I've been watching you forever! Since you started YouTube, really. I comment and like all your videos and any post you make on social media. Maybe you recognize my username, 'Kurtsworld96'?"

Kurt shifted away, kneeling in front of you and peering up at you with his big brown eyes. The drugs thrumming through your veins clouded all thinking, dulling the panic you should have been feeling. Only being able to focus on the way he looked at you, like you hung the moon and the stars.

"I've wanted to meet you for so long! We-we would be perfect collaborators- and- and I could take care of you!" Kurt leapt forward in excitement, missing the way you flinch backward slightly, jingling the cuffs around your hands. "And when you posted about going to Bobby's party- I mean it's fate really! I wasn't formally invited but me and Bobby are tight.." Kurt began to ramble and trail off, giving you a chance to glance around at your surroundings. It looked like you were in a bedroom. A desk sitting in the corner, posters littering the room and a mattress laying on the ground.

"I even got you a gift!" Kurt's voice snapped you back to reality, lolling your head to look down at him.

"What?" You mumble, watching him stand up and walk toward his desk, fiddling in the drawers before coming back. Standing in front of you with a hand behind his back. Kurt's free hand found your hair, gently grabbing it and guiding you to look up at him.

Kurt blushed at the way you looked at him, so pliant and malleable before him, lips parted and eyes glazed out.

"Pretty- pretty boy." He murmered to himself, chewing on his lip and removing his hand. Delighted when you keep looking up at him. He cleared his throat, revealing the 'present' from behind his back. It looked like a cheap dog collar made of blue plastic and black fabric, a small charm dangling from it.

Kurt rounds your chair, standing behind you and making you tense as his hands glide feather light along the side of your neck. He leaned down, whispering in your ear as he clicked the collar around your neck.

"I am not letting you go." His husky voice sent shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts about how serious the situation really was. Only focusing on his breath fanning against your neck and his slim fingers playing with the charm on the collar. "You are mine."

You whimpered, struggling against the cuffs again, accidentally drawing Kurt to the bulge in your jeans. The alcohol and drugs in your system lowering your restraint but the attention was the nail in the coffin, pushing you over the edge of control and making your cock leak.

"F-fuck. You- you like that? Like being mine?" Surprise evident in Kurt's voice as his fingers trailed down your arms, hooking in the cuffs and tugging harshly to pull you impossibly closer to the chair, straining your shoulders and arms.

"Say it."

You chewed on your lip as you tried to sort through your thoughts only to whimper out a small 'please'.

Kurt pulled away completely, leaving you cold and missing his presence, shame flooding you at the thought of wanting the man who kidnapped you. Those thoughts left as soon as Kurt kneeled in front of you again, his face soft as he immediately started working on your too tight jeans. Finally ripping them down, along with your pre-cum strained boxers.

You pant and gasp when your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach with a wet 'plap'. You whine and squirm in your seat, keeping your eyes trained on Kurt while his attention remains on your cock. Looking in awe and drinking in your bare skin before his eyes landed on your cock. His jaw dropped a little and he practically drooled at the sight of your drooling member inches away from his face. Kurt's hazy eyes flicked up to you, holding your gaze and shifting in his spot.

"Wanna worship you.." He leaned forward, placing a hesitant kiss on your calf, eyes never leaving your face, looking for any sign you didn't want this. "Wanna take care of you.." He placed another kiss higher, this time on your knee, the warmth of his lips making you whimper. "Wanna claim you." His final kiss was placed on your thigh, inches from your leaking cock that twitched at the contact.

"I'm yours."

Your own voice surprised you when you croaked out the words. You didn't have time to regret your words before Kurt let out a breath moan, diving in and leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your cock. You jerked your wrists, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in Kurt's messy brown hair, huffing when you couldn't touch him.

"Fuck. Dreamed about this for so long." Kurt continued to press wet kisses along your cock, slicking it with his spit and your pre cum. His kisses turned into kitten licks, then into long, broad licks. "So pretty.. and sweet.. fuck, you taste amazing."

Your whines and moans go ignored, all of Kurt's attention focused on wetting your cock and tasting your salty pre-cum. His warm hand wrapped around your cock, jerking you off while his mouth sucked on your tip.

"K-kurt." You tried to pull his attention to you, trying to warn him of your orgasm that was approaching too fast.

Kurt moaned and pulled his mouth off of your cock, a line of spit connecting him to your tip. His hand sped up, thumb stroking the underside and swiping over the tip before sliding back down to the base. His half lidded eyes looked up at you while he laid his head on your thigh.

"Say my name again. Please baby." He pleaded up at you with a slight pout, his hand getting faster until your vision started to blur around the edges.

"Kurt!" A deep moan rumbled through your chest as your cock gave a final twitch before ropes of cum painted his hand and your chest. Your vision going white, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, drowning out all thoughts.

"Good boy." Kurt whispered. His hand slowing, moving to your thigh, stroking it affectionately. You panted out labored breaths as you started to come to, looking down at Kurt lazily, feeling your sensitive cock twitch when you notice your cum splattered in his hair and across the bridge of his nose. "Made such a mess.." Kurt mumbles idly before reaching around and undoing the cuffs from your wrists. Your arms fall limply at your side, too exhausted to move anymore.

Kurt stands, leveling his tented jeans with your face. You moan weakly, attempting to reach up and undo his belt before he grabs your wrists gently, pulling your hands to his mouth for a soft kiss.

"Can I- can I fuck you?"

You would have cringed at his awkwardness if it hadn't of been for your cock already getting hard again at the thought of him making good on his promise to claim you as his. You swallow, making eye contact with him before nodding.

"Yes."

The next few moments were a haze of Kurt helping you to his uncomfortable bed, clothes being shed and hungry hands exploring your body, committing every inch of skin to memory. It ended with you on your back and Kurt nestled deep in your neck, biting and sucking bruises into your skin.

He blindly scrambled for his bedside table, pulling out lube and a condom. "J-just tell me if it hurts." You give a short nod in return, preparing yourself before a cold, slick finger circles your rim. You chew in your lip and groan when he pushes his finger in, quickly getting used to the feeling and craving more.

By the time three of Kurt's fingers were pistoning in and out of you, you were close to your second orgasm of the night. Moaning and clawing down his pale back while he stayed glued to your now sore neck, determined to mark you.

"I-I can't wait any longer." Kurt whined, finally slipping his fingers free, rushing to slip on the condom and line himself up with your entrance. You gasped when he pushed his tip inside you, hands tightening on your hips so hard you were sure they would bruise.

Once Kurt began pushing in more, he couldn't stop, slipping in in one go and bottoming out with a deep groan.

"S-So t-tight-" Kurt gasped out, shivering and shuddering above you. "Perfect, so-o perfect." He gave you no time to adjust before he's rutting into you, sliding out only a little before slamming the rest of his length back in with a brutal thrust, punching the air from your lungs.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him from your raw neck to look down at you. His lips were shiny and red, eyes full of lust and need as you watched him lose himself in your tight ass. His thrusts grew deeper and harder until he was pulling out until just the tip was inside and slamming back in, brushing your prostate with every thrust, making your eyes roll back and high moans escape your throat.

"Fuck yes baby, Iloveyouiloveyouilove-" Kurt rushed out before cutting himself off with a loud moan as he spilled his seed into the condom. His body shook above you, whines and groans falling easily from his lips as his thrusts slowed to a slow roll of his hips inside you.

He finally collapsed on top of you, his body sweaty against yours. You sighed and peaked down, face and chest heating up when you notice you came again at some point, your cock soft and covered in cum.

The only sounds in the room were yours and Kurt's soft pants before his soft voice spoke up and he reached up to play with the charm on your collar again.

"It says 'Kurts'.

[impala-dreamer]

Tourniquet - Chapter Five

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works ~ Get A Custom Story

How To Lose Friends and Knock on Death’s Door

She hadn’t been far when he called, which was always strange. Strange to think that out of the entire country, they’d accidentally ended up in almost the exact same place at the same time. 

Y/N had just cleaned up a little ghost situation in Absecon, New Jersey and decided to treat herself to a little glitz and glamor down in Atlantic City. Sadly, she found none, but she did find a few really good margaritas which led her to relieve her wallet of a few bucks in Bally’s. 

That night, she hung out on the boardwalk, boots thumping gently on the slatted wood. She took her time, nowhere to go, nothing really to do. The moon was bright and its glow reflected on the ocean like a million diamonds sparkling in the swells.

The November wind was slow but cruel and she tugged her jacket around her a little tighter. 

Someday, she wanted to come back in the summer. To bring a book and sit on the beach under a rented umbrella and feel the sun burn her legs. To dodge the crowds on the boardwalk, walk through the casinos for a little air conditioning. Maybe she’d bring a friend. Maybe she’d bring Dean. She laughed at the thought of Dean lying next to her on the beach; his back red from the sun, his legs too long for the blanket, toes digging into the sand. 

Dean. 

She sighed and leaned against the wooden railing, staring off at the water. Her nose was freezing and she rubbed at it, deciding it was time to go. 

As she turned, her phone buzzed and she smiled. His ears must have been ringing. Maybe she could get him to come out right now. Despite the late autumn cold, New Jersey was beautiful. 

“I was just thinking about you,” she answered with a light laugh. 

“Y/N/N…” His voice was panicked and rough. 

Her heart sank. Another tragic call, another night of talking him off the ledge. Pushing away her smile and disappointment, Y/N squared her shoulders and focused. 

“What’s going on? Are you hurt?” 

“No.” He stumbled as if his tongue wasn’t quite sure how to form the words. “You- it’s- Y/N/N, you gotta come here. Now.”

“OK.” His panic drifted through the phone into her. “Tell me what’s going on. Where are you?” 

Heavy breathing, a choked back sob. 

“It’s Bobby…”

Thirty-one miles wasn’t very far, but she felt every bump in the road like she was running barefoot on broken glass. Her stomach ached; her muscles tensed. Twice, she’d had to slow down in fear of retching, but she grit her teeth, gripped the wheel, and pushed on. 

The trauma rooms were on the main floor behind Emergency, and they were hesitant to let her in. 

“Please… He’s my father,” she lied, but not really. Bobby had been more of a father to her in those early years after her mother and sister died than her own had been. He was the only one she would listen to when reprimanded or given advice; his house buried in the junkyard was the only place she could truly call home. “Please.” 

The tears were real even if the genetics weren’t and they let her in; a short nurse pointing the way to the room in the corner. 

Doctors ran in and out, white coats and blue scrubs blurring as tears filled her eyes. 

She stood in the middle of the walkway, staring at the body in the bed, refusing to believe that it was Bobby. 

The patterned gown was too big, hanging off his shoulders and tucked under in weird places. Plastic tubes came out of his mouth, his chest, his arms. Bright blood leaked through the white gauze on his head.

Someone called her name, but she couldn’t hear it over the monitors beeping or the racing of her heart. 

“Y/N…” 

Sam touched her shoulder and she jumped back and away, hunter’s instincts taking over. 

“Whoa-” He held up his giant hands in surrender and leaned away. “It’s me. Sorry.” 

She sucked in a quick breath and looked up into his worried eyes. His hair was a bit longer than she’d last seen; his sideburns a ridiculous mess. He opened his arms and she fell into them, grabbing the front of his green jacket and twisting it in her fists. 

“What the fuck happened?” It came out in a wet sob, but the words were formed well enough. 

Sam was shaking and braced himself by wrapping his arms around her. “He… we were…”

Confusion choked her. “Who did this?”

He couldn’t answer, he just squeezed a little tighter. 

“What happened? What- I- Sam!” 

She pulled back and looked up. His face was creased with pain, his gaze sad and empty with shock. 

“Sam!” 

Hazel eyes flit from her face to Bobby and back again. Unable to speak, he shook his head.

She tore at his jacket, tugging him closer. Her body burned with anger, not at Sam, but he was the only one around that she could beat up on and not end up in cuffs. 

“Sam!” 

“I’m-” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “It just… happened. I don’t-” 

Y/N could tell how hard he was trying, how strong he was being. The simple act of standing there seemed to almost break him down, but he held himself together. She pushed aside her anger and pressed her hand to his chest in a calming gesture. 

He looked down with the tiniest ghost of a smile.

She softened her voice. “Has a doctor talked to you yet?” 

Sam nodded. “Just now.” 

“What did they say?” 

“He’s um… They have to wait for the swelling to come down and then-” 

He shrugged, it was all he could do. 

Y/N’s head was pounding, her arms felt like lead. She turned to look back at the bed, at the old man lying unconscious surrounded by machines. He looked pale, cold. The thin hospital blanket wasn’t enough. She wanted to run to her car and grab another, cover him up, hold him close, but her feet wouldn’t move. She was stuck in place, looking through the glass doors as Bobby clung to life.

Her whole world was shattering and autopilot took over. There were no more words, no more questions, there was only the eerie quiet between them and the constant mechanical beeping.

At some point, she and Sam found chairs and they sat stoically sharing their pain. He clung to her and she covered him the best she could with much smaller hands.   

“He’s gonna die,” she whispered. She was staring, unblinking at the base of the hospital bed, wondering what all the different pedals and levers did. “He’s gonna die.” 

Sam sucked in a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I think so.” 

“He ain’t dyin’. Not today.” 

Dean startled them both with his refusal to admit the truth and his sudden appearance. He towered over them and Y/N tore her eyes from Bobby and looked up at Dean. 

His eyes were wide and bloodshot, the skin dark beneath. He was trembling slightly but doing his best to hide it behind a clenched jaw and tight fists. 

She wanted to yell at him, to force him to see reality, but she was distracted by a drop of blood. It fell from his hand and struck the top of his boot, splashing like a raindrop onto pavement. 

“You’re bleeding.” 

He looked down and flexed his fingers. His knuckles were torn and bleeding. 

“It’s fine.”

Y/N stood up and grabbed his hand, looking it over. “It’s gonna get infected,” she sighed. “Come on…” 

They found an empty room down the hall that seemed unused. Most of the lights were off and the ones that were on were old and dim. They snuck in and Y/N forced Dean to sit on the edge of the bed. He was quiet but she could feel the anger pushing off of him. She could see it in his eyes; feel it in the tension of his fingers. 

“What’d you do, punch a wall?” 

Dean huffed and cleared his throat. “A- uh- glass window thing.”

Y/N sighed as she dug through a cabinet, plucking out alcohol swabs and gauze. “You think that was wise?” 

Dean tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, scared, and running from defeat. 

“Was that or the guy’s face.” 

She pulled up a stool and steel tray, laid out her instruments and sat across from him. 

“Then I guess you did the right thing.” 

He let her examine his cuts, winced as she pulled a piece of glass from the middle knuckle, hissed when the alcohol hit his open flesh. 

Y/N scoffed and hit him again with the cold fluid. “Baby.” 

He cocked his head and looked at her. “You know I love it when you call me that.” 

She met his eye and pursed her lips. “Of all the times, Dean. Now is not a good one.” 

He shrugged and offered half a smile in apology. 

“I’m glad you called.” She wrapped his hand up carefully, sure to make it tight but not too tight. “Thank you.” 

Dean licked his lips and dropped his head, staring at the old tiles covering the floor. They were dingy and the glaze was cracked. Just like him. 

“Thought you’d wanna be here,” he replied. 

“I do. Thanks.” She smiled sadly and patted his arm. “All done.” 

“You’re a hell of a nurse, Y/N/N.” 

“Don’t you know it.” 

She moved to stand, but Dean grabbed her. He pulled at her arms and tugged the stool forward until she was between his legs. She looked up in surprise and then blinked back a fresh swarm of tears. 

“Don’t do that,” he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his warm hands and brushing away a tear with his thumb. “You do that and I’ll do that and then where will we be?” 

“Crying in an ancient hospital room,” she teased. 

He laughed. 

She sighed. 

He’d be OK. 

“Dean, I-” 

His kiss was slow but desperate. He held her face, kept her locked to him as his lips pressed tight against her mouth. She was surprised but not really. This is what he did. He called when he needed her, kissed her when he felt hopeless, let his hands roam when he needed to feel alive and connected. 

It didn’t matter why, it just mattered that it happened. 

Y/N melted against him, parting her lips for his tongue, and breathed him in. He smelled like cheap cologne and smoke, like whiskey and three days without a shower. He stank. He was filthy. His stubble burned her lips. He felt like heaven. 

Dean seemed to find his breath again within her and he sucked at her lips, kissed across her jaw, sank his teeth gently into the crook of her neck. Y/N’s eyes were rolling, her skin burning, heart racing. 

“Dean, we shouldn’t-” 

He sat back, green eyes dark and wide as he looked her over. He ran his fingertips across the hem of her shirt, followed her collarbone across on each side. He was there but not; a mechanical body moving because it had to, but his mind was elsewhere. His mind was back in that room with Bobby. 

“Dean…” 

As much as she wanted his hands to move down a little further, to sneak up beneath her shirt, rip her clothing away, she knew she couldn’t do it. She placed her hands on his wrists and pulled them gently off of her shoulders. 

He startled, shoved back into himself. He blinked quickly and then stood up, pushing her back on the rolling stool. 

“I- I’m sorry, Y/N/N-”

Shaking his head, he wrenched the door open and escaped, leaving her alone in the dim light, surrounded by the ghost of a moment and bloody wrappings. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there picking at her cuticles and absorbing the night. She wanted to break down, to run away and scream as loud as she could until she couldn’t anymore, but that wasn’t her. She was the bedrock, the warm blanket, the calm in a stormy sea. If she wasn’t that, she wasn’t anything. 

After some time, she managed to stand. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and his kiss from her lips. 

She gathered up the mess she’d made and tossed it all in the bin. 

She shut the lights and walked back down the hall. 

A white coat flew past her, bumping her shoulder. She turned into the hit and watched the young doctor run towards an incoming trauma. 

Outside, sirens were blaring and nurses were shouting, but inside there was a steady ringing. A long buzz that Y/N slowly realized had replaced the beeping. 

She looked towards Bobby’s room, her vision blurred and her movements slow. 

Dean was at the foot of the bed, his hands on his head as he spun away. Sam was doubled over off to the side, slowly sliding to the floor. 

It didn’t make any sense. 

A nurse in bright blue scrubs and a white knitted sweater reached over the bed and shut off a monitor. The buzzing stopped. 

Bobby was dead. 

Anguish pumped through her system and Y/N broke into a run, screaming for help as she reached the room. 

“Please! Help him!” 

Dean tried to grab her, but she slipped through his arms. 

“Please! Why won’t you do something!” 

Her hands waved over his body, unsure where to land, unsure what to do. Tears stung her eyes and she let them fall, crashing down like a tidal wave onto the thin blanket. She pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him to move, but there was no response. 

“Please!” 

She cupped her hands over his heart and tried to push down with all of her strength, to force his heart to start again, but it was no use. 

“Bobby, please!” 

She climbed up onto the bed and beat on his chest; her cries growing more desperate, more pitiful. 

“Bobby-” 

When he couldn’t stand it any longer, Dean grabbed her by the waist and yanked her off of the bed. 

“Get off of me!” 

She struggled against his hold, kicking at him to get back to the bed, but his arms were too solid, his grip too strong. 

“Y/N, stop!” 

She hissed and slapped at the arm around her middle, but Dean wouldn’t let go. 

“Dean! Let! Go!”

She clawed at his hands and Dean pulled her closer. He dropped his head and pressed it against hers. His eyes fell closed. 

“Y/N/N, he’s gone. He’s gone.” 

Dean’s voice bounded off of every corner of her mind, echoed into the deepest parts of her. She stopped fighting and collapsed, legs giving out and sending them both to the cold floor. Dean fell with her and wrapped his arms around her, curling her into his chest. 

“He can’t go,” she sobbed, fingers climbing up his chest to find something to hold on to. “He can’t. He can’t. He can’t…” 

Dean cradled her head, rocked them both gently. “Shh… I’ve got you.”

“He can’t go, Dean… He can’t.” 

He shivered against her and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ve got you.” 

She ran. As soon as the sun rose and she could see clear enough to drive, she was gone. She was broken and devastated and the worst part was, he hadn’t asked her to stay. 

So, she ran. 

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[amillieaway]

prompt: snowed in

It was snowing in their common room.

Hermione didn’t sleep. Darkness toyed with her every night until she succumbed to the dusty lamp above her shoulder.

There was always a book on the bedside table. Soft leather covers with cracking spines, second-hand shop prices penciled on the top right corner of the title page; always under ten quid because post-war Hermione did not have the luxuries that her former self used to do.

Bleary-eyed restlessness kept her up consistently, unveiling highly unusual nocturnal activities in her shared dorm.

If someone had told her who would be Head Boy in eighth year, she may not have returned to Hogwarts. He would be cruel and condescending and completely unbearable. But Draco turned out to be a decent roommate. Tidy and polite and quiet, he kept to his room, and covered most patrol shifts, giving her ample time off.

Only, he was a profoundly dramatic sleeper.

Hermione raised the covers to her chin, shielding herself from a gust of snowflakes falling from the ceiling.

Forever in a state of apathy, Draco’s emotions were guarded heavily behind stony mental walls. Except for when he slept. Last night, their rooms trembled in the wake of a roaring wind storm. Hermione’s History essay flew across the floor, quills and bobby pins and sweet wrappers tornadoing around the rug. The night before that, the temperature dropped so low, her breath clouded; the trembling fern on her windowsill shed three leaves. Separated only by a thin wall, Hermione experienced the brunt of Draco’s unruly magic night after night.

She’d contemplated waking him, conjured a list of pros and cons. He would be embarrassed. He might lash out. But his unconscious was too heartbreaking to stomach. Every night was cold, chaotic, a shade, or many, uncomfortable. Leaving him alone would be a disservice to them both.

Clumsily, she wiggled into yesterday’s socks, tugging them above her knees. The carpet was damp beneath her feet. She wore cotton shorts and a tank, her blanket tucked tightly around her shoulders.

She paused behind his door.

Boys were always more agreeable after sugar.

She detoured.

Minutes later, Hermione crossed the corridor’s frosty white floors, mug in hand, entering Draco’s room without knocking. Snow melted into a layer of glimmering wet upon her shoulders.

Draco slept on his side, hugging himself, brows furrowed.

Hermione called his name once, quietly, and again, louder, when he didn’t stir.

Draco blinked drowsily. Then shot up like a spark. The triangle of light flooding the doorway illuminated the panic on his face.

“It’s only me,” Hermione said sheepishly, trying to sound soothing. “You were having a bad dream.”

He frowned, his hair sticking up in all directions. He was shirtless.

Hermione’s pulse quickened. “Uhm… I brought you hot chocolate.” She gestured awkwardly to the lion-head mug in her hands, cocoa-scented steam swirling through the clean boyish scent of Draco’s room.

He followed her gaze, appearing more confused. The mattress creaked as he shuffled away, silver-scarred ribs expanding. “Did I wake you?” His voice was raspy.

Hermione wanted to tell him about the snow. About the way his dreams manifested into magic. But like each enchanted dream before, any indication of it was gone. Her shoulders were dry. The floors clean. The temperature had risen to castle norm, which was never warm enough anyway.

“I never sleep,” she admitted instead, resigned.

“Never?”

“It’s difficult. My head’s not a happy place.”

“Nor mine.” He relaxed a little, repositioning himself against the carved headboard, a generous gap of space stretched between him and the edge of the bed. He shot her a pointed look.

Blushing, Hermione hugged her blanket closely and crawled up beside him. She could have told him why she was there, but the words would not come. If Draco knew the truth, he would stop sleeping. They shouldn't both have to suffer.

“Will you stay up with me for a while?” she asked.

For once his eyes twinkled, shot with exhaustion, but unguarded. And interested? “Only because you brought me hot chocolate,” he said, nudging his chin in silent demand.

She rolled her eyes as she handed him the mug, hiding her grin.

His throat pulsed as he swallowed slowly, licking his lower lip. Their fingers brushed when he handed it back to her. His skin was warm.

Hermione took a small sip.

“I thought you would be the shittiest roommate,” Draco admitted a while later, eyes fixed carefully ahead. “I thought—Hermione Granger? She’ll preach rules any time I toe out of line and hog all the bookshelf space and be condescending twenty-four hours a day. I nearly didn’t come back.” He met her gaze. “But you surprised me.”

A spark of awareness shot down her spine.

He took the hot chocolate back, drinking from exactly where her mouth had been, a sneaky smile curling the edges of his lips.

They sat until dawn, bickering but not seriously. Laughing, but sleepily and more out of politeness. They were just getting to know one another. There were awkward gaps, moments of wordlessness, ceaselessly thinking ‘what do I say next?’. But there was always a next, even if it took a while. A thoughtful next. A next that led to a longer conversation, and a longer one after that. Thighs brushing, then pressing, shoulders caving towards one another. Eventually, Hermione’s blanket encircled them both, her head resting upon his shoulder.

Drowsily, she told him, “Yeah. You surprised me too.”

For the first time in weeks, Hermione experienced the sensation of waking from a deep sleep.

xx

[eds6ngel]

completely contradictory ୨♡୧

eddie munson x fem!reader.

summary: after helping eddie through a panic attack, you guide him through the ways of positive self-perception.

warnings: fem!reader. r's hair is in a bun, but no other physical descriptions. no use of y/n. no use of pronouns. swearing. established relationship. panic attacks. eddie has undiagnosed anxiety. 5-4-3-2-1 technique. talks of negative and positive perceptions and self-perceptions. food mentions. mentions of sm*king and dr*gs. angst. hurt. fluff. happy ending!! [3k].

author's note: i do not have diagnosed anxiety. i have friends who do, so my knowledge is based off of what i have learnt from them. if there's any inaccuracies in terms of descriptions or language, please do lmk in the comments. otherwise, enjoy!!

Since you had band practice after school, you and Eddie agreed (much to his dismay) that you would ride over to his trailer when you were finished, your club sometimes running later than intended.

The rain was pouring against your car window, wipers speeding back and forth to re-direct the rain to the corners where they didn’t fog your vision.

Although you loved November time, the downpours that regularly infiltrated Hawkins were not the nicest. Especially when you had to travel somewhere.

You pulled into Forest Hills Trailer Park, your wheels pushing through the stodgy, mud-flooded grass, taking a right turn and parking up next to Eddie’s infamous white and green van.

You open your door, the rain blowing directly into your face as you slam it shut, making a run for Eddie’s front door, which luckily had shelter covering the porch.

Even though Eddie persisted you enter his place freely, you were brought up with respect and manners. So, to not frighten your boyfriend or his uncle if he was home, you rapped three times against the wood, awaiting a response.

However, you receive none. You assumed it was the rain, Eddie most likely being in his room, perhaps meaning he couldn’t hear you over the beginning thunderstorm.

You tried again, your knuckles hitting against the wooden door, but neither Eddie nor Wayne responds.

Knowing that Eddie was home, you begin to throw your taught manners out of the window, entering the small trailer, your panic now rising.

“Baby?” you shout into the open space, “It’s only me, sweetheart!”

Yet, you’re still met with silence. Wayne always hung out in the living room, so he must’ve been working. But, Eddie never goes anywhere without his van. You always joked about how he was allergic to walking.

You quietly pace down the small hallway, twisting the handle to Eddie’s room to find the door locked. Pressing your ear against the wood, from inside, you can hear shallow breaths, your imagination running wild at the situation you had encountered many times in your life.

You were pretty sure that Eddie had anxiety, but the costs of getting a diagnosis were sky high. Not to mention the inaccuracies in the diagnostic criteria. Eddie was a charismatic, extroverted guy. You already had a sinking feeling that they would write it off as nothing.

You softly knock, making sure not to startle him, even if he already had heard your many knocks at the front door from beforehand. “Honey, it’s only me. If you can, can you unlock the door for me, please?”

However, there’s no scuffling of the feet, no movement, just the same rapid breaths.

“Fuck,” you grit out to yourself in a mumble, quickly thinking of a way to get through to him. You definitely weren’t gonna knock his door down, Wayne would be anything but impressed.

A lightbulb flickers in your head as you reach to the back of your hair, pulling out one of the bobby pins keeping your bun in place.

You bend it outwards and slot it into the lock, twisting and fiddling until you heard a click. You remove the bobby pin, grabbing the handle with your other hand and pulling it down, the door budging open.

You make sure to open it as slow as possible, not wanting to raise Eddie’s anxieties.

No matter how many times you’ve seen him in this state, it continues to break your heart every time. He’s sat in the corner of his room, legs crossed, arms folded over perched on his legs with his head positioned in the small gap he made for himself.

You rush over to him, kneeling down and softly speaking, “Baby, it’s me. You’re okay. You’re safe. Can you lift your head for me?”

His head rises from between his arms, tears streaming down his face, eyes red raw as his breathing remains rapid, him still not looking at you, staring off into the distance.

“Can I touch you or not?” you ask, to which he responds with a shake of the head, you shuffling back slightly to give him the space he needed. “Okay, we’re gonna do a deep breath in and out and then our technique. You ready?”

He doesn’t respond, but you know from experience that he wants to get out of the situation as quick as possible, the sinking feeling making him feel like utter shit.

“Okay, in,” you start, breathing in yourself so he can replicate you, which he does. “And, out,” you say, him letting the air flow out of his mouth, the anxieties moving out into the atmosphere.

“Okay, five things you can see baby,” you start, him finally moving his eyes from the fixated position in the distance. “Umm… You, my bed. Shit…” he mumbles, you reassuring him, “Take your time, it’s okay.”

“Uh… my magazine, Anthrax poster, and… Screaming for Vengeance.”

“Great, now breathe in and out again,” you say, the two of you inhaling and exhaling before you move onto your next question. “Good honey, good. Now, four things you can touch.”

“Umm…” he thinks, his breathing beginning to become more regulated, “You… again,” he shyly says, trying to come up with new answers, but knowing you were there was such a comfort for him. How could he not name you?

“The floor, my own arm, and… my dresser.”

“Good job. In and out,” you repeat, before moving on, his breath much more steady now, his answers becoming quicker and clearer. “Three things you can hear.”

“You… the rain and the birds,” he says, finally looking up into your eyes, whispering out, arms outstretched, “Can you hold my hands?”

You don’t say a word, simply slotting yours between his. His hands are clammy, covered in sweat. Not that you mind, of course, but it’s a reminder of how bad these hurt him. You wish you could just take it away, or take it on for yourself. You hated seeing him like this. It hurt a lot.

You don’t even need to tell him anymore, him closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in and out. “Two more to go, sweetheart. You’re almost there. Two things you can smell.”

“My cologne and your perfume.” Even though it was an anxiety calming exercise, his answer made you melt. His room had such an array of smells from smoke to the kebabs he ate last night, even to his weed. But, the only thing that mattered was the smell of the two of you. But, that’s what love is, right? Everything else sort of fades away, the only things existing being you and him.

He breathes in and out for the final time, you reminding him, “One thing you can taste.”

“The pizza I ate when I got home.”

“Great, amazing,” you say, the words of encouragement causing him to let out one big final sigh, him shaking his head as if to release the final anxieties and tension out of his brain.

“How we doing, my love? Scale of 1-10?”

“Better,” he replies, “Still feel like shit, but at least it’s not like that. A solid five, I suppose.”

“Explanation or distraction?” you ask softly, knowing that his answer differentiates by the day. Sometimes he is extremely open, telling you exactly the causation of the attack. Others he hides it in for a while, wanting to focus on something else to let his mind wander for a while, usually coming to you a couple days later explaining everything.

“Umm… Explanation is probably better,” he chuckles a little, “I mean, I’ll need to fix something anyway that caused this.”

“Okay,” you whisper, standing up and holding out a hand, using all your strength to pull him up off the floor. You both walk hand in hand over to his bed, taking a seat on the edge as you motion to him, “Arms up.”

He slowly drags them above his body, you taking off the Hellfire t-shirt that was clinging to his sweaty frame. This was practically a routine for you two now. You knew his attacks caused his entire body to become super sensitive, as well as the overwhelming heat that had overtaken him, so it was better for him to let himself breathe a little.

Not willing to leave his side, you shuffle behind him, removing the black scrunchie from your hair, the bun your hair was once styled in now being let free. Although full of knots, you grab the curls that framed his face, pulling them to the back of his head, wrapping them around your hand.

You press a gentle kiss to his shoulder, telling him, “Go ahead. I’m listening,” as you get to work on your styling task.

He sighs out, “I was trying to learn Raining Blood, and then the fuckin’ tape jammed up on me, not that I was doing so well anyway,” he critiques himself, you humming along, not so much in agreement, but in acknowledgement.

“So, I was already fuckin’ stressed as hell. Was putting Sweetheart back on her stand, and I just look up and look like absolute shit. Suppose it all just set me off.”

By the time he was finished explaining, his hair was now up in a messy bun, giving his neck some breathing room as you wrap your arms around his torso, pressing another kiss to his shoulder.

“You’ve heard of the phrase ‘practice makes perfect,’ right?” you ask him, about to go on one of your insightful conversations.

He hums in response, “’Course I have. Why?”

“Well, you ever thought about the pressure that inadvertently gives you?” you ask, Eddie looking a little confused at your thought. Although, he’s certain he’ll understand by the end. He was accustomed to your weird, but enlightening sentiments that you randomly blurted out in your life. It was one of the many things he loved and adored about you.

“Like, the pressure that you have to keep going and going until you mastered something to upmost perfection. As if you can play a solo as amazingly as Brian May, despite him creating it to his playing ability? Perfect doesn’t exist, it really doesn’t. It’s simply what another person perceives.”

He turns around, now facing you, your arms flailing about as you ramble your insight out, “You know when you play guitar for someone and you mess up, and when you point it out, the other person usually goes ‘Oh, I never even noticed?’ That’s perception. That’s how every single thought and action you make in your life plays out.”

You take his hands in yours, sighing as you twiddle with his thumbs, “I’ve been doing some reflecting lately sweetheart, and it’s made me realise a lot. A hell of a lot,” you scoff, slightly shaking your head as you think of the ways the world works.

“A pro-guitarist will notice your mistake and critique you on it, a non-guitarist will not even take notice. And honestly, the same applies for anything, everything you do is down to the interpretation of someone else. I’ll give you example, my love.”

“Okay,” he responds, looking into your eyes, slowly beginning to understand your train of thought. “Say a girl, around our age, walked down the street. She was dressed very feminine, blonde hair, blue eyes, just an extremely sunny-looking person. She walked past you and went ‘Hey, I really like your style.’ Would you feel that she is complimenting you or mocking you?”

Eddie simply sits there in astonishment. He knew what his immediate reaction would be considering the general consensus around his pure existence in Hawkins. “Umm… Yeah, I would assume mocking. Of course I would. Everyone in this town fucking hates me, sweetheart.”

“But, you assumed the same when you met me, didn’t you? When I told you that you seemed cool.”

“Shit…” he mumbles out, letting his head fall into the crook of your shoulder, “I think I see where you’re going with this…”

“You were wrong, because I always meant it, I still do now. I love you to pieces, baby,” you say, lifting his head up and cupping his cheeks, “So, knowing that you perceived me as being negative when I wasn’t, who’s to say that the voices in your head aren’t also wrong?”

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, moving your right hand to sit comfortably on his thigh, “I think you’re beautiful, Wayne thinks you’re beautiful, your friends think you’re beautiful. Nobody, your friends and I especially, chose you for no reason. We love you, and we thought you were the coolest person on the planet, so we chose to start a relationship with you, whether that be platonic or romantic.”

He leans his forehead against yours, trying not to let the tears spill down his cheeks again. Although, this time would be out of complete appreciation and happiness, rather than solemness.

“So, whenever you look at yourself in that mirror and think ‘I look like shit,’ you have to tell those voices they are wrong. I think you look pretty as shit right now,” you say, kissing the underside of his jaw. “That’s for one. Two, tell those voices, ‘Fuck you, because I have a girlfriend that thinks I’m hot as hell and a bunch of friends who chose me and find me extremely cool.’ Because, the more we spend time with ourselves, the more we fall into critiques. But, if we remember who chose us, we’ll think of many more positives to ourselves.”

“Jesus, how did I score myself the smartest girl on Planet Earth?” he questions, you giggling as you lean back, getting off of the bed and holding out your hand, “C’mere.”

He doesn’t question anything, taking your hand as you lead him over to his mirror.

You stand beside him, you squeezing his hand as you say, “What would you say is your favourite hobby? If you had to pick one.”

He chuckles, “Jesus babe, that’s like choosing a favourite child,” you laughing as you remind him, “Well, parents do secretly have a favourite child.”

He squints his eyes, deep in thought before looking down, “Sorry Sweetheart, D&D takes the reign on that one.”

You frown, looking at the guitar itself before looking back up at your boyfriend, “She’ll be okay. She can handle the critique.” You smile, “Okay, now what do you specifically like about D&D?”

And as if like clockwork, you grin proudly as Eddie starts to list off his reasons. “I get to create cool campaigns, and have complete control over every design. Like, I could choose a Demogorgon for one campaign, but then Vecna for my next one. The extremes can be insane. Also, I get to hang out with my friends, and have a great fuckin’ laugh. We get really enthusiastic about it, y’know? And yeah, just… good times.”

You look up at him softly, hugging his arm as you say, “See? Was that so hard?”

He gazes down at you, before simply speaking without words, cupping both of your cheeks and pulling you in for a long kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, almost feeling the love and appreciation through his lips. Once the two of you apart, you lean your foreheads against each other once again, Eddie’s lips not deciding whether they want to remain in a shocked state or creep up into a smile.

“Shit… I love you,” he blurts out, those being the first words to show his sign of appreciation, “I just… Thank you. I really don’t deserve you— Wait, fuck, yes I do. What am I talking about? Of course I fuckin’ do,” he rambles, placing a quick peck to your lips again.

The pair of you giggle like school children, both of your hands cupping the other’s cheeks, the closeness feeling like a warm home. “What I am trying to say is I love what you just did. Do you know how many years I have beat myself up for stupid shit? I’ll have one zit on my face and think my life is fuckin’ over. But, you won’t care, Gareth won’t care, Dustin won’t care, nobody will care. The only people who will care will be the ones that already fuckin’ hate me with a passion.”

You nod as you remain leant against his forehead, him continuing his own rant, “I could do anything for the people that hate me, and they would still hate me. Hell, I could join the fuckin’ basketball team and Jason would still bully me.”

“Exactly baby, now you’re getting it,” you say, “And, if someone came up to me and said I looked like shit, you would give them hell for it, right?”

“’Course I would. You’re the prettiest, most beautiful girl on Earth. They’re blind if they can’t see that.”

You lean back, moving your arms to around his neck, his falling to your waist, “So, why not do the same to yourself? When those voices start bullying you in your head, you just go ‘Fuck off, that’s not true. I’m a good person and I have people in my life who can prove that.’”

He nods in response, “Yeah, shit, yeah… Yeah, I’ll start doing that. Fuck… Thank you sweetheart, I love you so goddamn much.”

You give him another peck on the lips, “I love you too. But do remember, this isn’t gonna be a linear thing. This will sometimes bite you in the ass. So, if you ever find a day where you can’t fight the voices, call me and I’ll come do the work for you, okay?”

He hums in response, the anxieties finally gone. It was always gonna be you that helped him. Even if this was an inner healing thing, he wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. And that’s why he’s made a promise to never let you go, no matter what happens. He’s gonna marry you one day, get to show off a ring on his finger as proof, because you were a part of him, and he was a part of you, and he never wants that to change.

i hope you enjoyed!! again, lmk if anything is inaccurate in the comments!!

[snarkythewoecrow]

wip wednesday

a little snippet of the buddie, buck!mpreg, a/b/o, strangers-having-a-one-night-stand to enemies to roommates to lovers/pack/happy family fic with angsty misunderstandings and plenty of hurt/comfort that i've been quietly working on

(this is a little bit of them seeing each other for the first time and realizing just who the other one is--Eddie being the one hired to fill in for the stations omega on pregnancy leave and Buck being at home, answering the door and trying not to be annoyed that Bobby sent his replacement to come check on him)

*please don't judge my typos*

The side table rattled as the corner dug his thigh as he stumbled, his hand shooting out to steady the vase and flowers Hen and Karen had sent.

“Oh fuck no!” he shouted, waggling a finger at Eddie, the fucking knothead that hadn’t used a condom, that had gotten him into this mess. “Come one step closer and I’m calling the cops—or better yet, I’ll call Athena!”

“Buck—“

Call it pregnancy brain, but it wasn’t until that moment that he truly clicked that the alpha had somehow found a way into his place during his panic. “What the fuck—where did you get a key?”

The room's cloying stench of carefully manicured, manufactured calm coated his throat, making it strangely sweet, obviously this guy had attended the alpha training on handling distressed omegas.

Cute trick, fuckhead. Not gonna work, he thought, as his ribs rattled.

The dick bit his lip, dragging it crookedly under his teeth, observing, nose twitching, then dropping his gaze to where Buck had a hand pressed to his belly. The knothead’s eyes went wide as his nostrils flared, sucking in another breath.

Buck bristled at being scented, knowing what the alpha had confirmed with his nose. An omegas scent always changed minutely during pregnancy, taking on a hint of their alpha’s scent, making it hard to deny who had sired the pup.

He was not about to let this guy stake any kind of claim.

“Uh-uh, nope—don’t even—you don’t get to look at me like that.” And if he bared his barely-there omega fangs, nearly snarling, well, it felt like a more appropriate time than some of the others in his past. “You do not have a claim on my pup—my pup—not yours. Eyes up here, knothead.”

And it was at that, the alpha at least had the decency to look apologetic, having been caught staring, like that dick had any reason to be surprised this could have happened. Lying about using a condom—knotting him like that—not even mentioning the fact he was just a rude, selfish fuck for pulling out before it went down.

Yeah, this dude had no right looking so fucking shocked, and definitely no right looking so fucking concerned and remorseful.

Fuck him.

“I didn’t…” the alpha, Eddie, not that Buck cared enough to use his name, started, then trailed off, which had Buck growling in warning, even as he struggled not to pass out.

[jtargaryen18]

Hounds of Hell MC 3: Axel

Sadie -- I finally found the courage to escape my abusive boyfriend, but I didn’t make it far. I’m holed up in a small Virginia town called Mercy. There will be no mercy for me if my ex finds me. Thanks to Axel, the gorgeous biker who towed my car to his garage, I have a place to stay and a job at the town’s greenhouse. I also have the hope that I might have a second chance at love one day, with Axel.

Axel -- When I got called to tow a broken-down car to my garage, I found the beaten and battered angel who owns it on the run from the devil. Here in Mercy, with me, she’s healing and learning to live again. When her ex figures out Sadie’s here, even his Mafia ties can’t protect him from me. His entire mafia family can’t take back what’s mine and there’s going to be hell to pay when they try.

Excerpt

After dinner, Sadie had retreated to her room. It had thankfully been a busy day and she hoped that Liza bought her excuse of just being tired as the reason she disappeared into her room early. 

Her nerves were shot from the man coming to the nursery today, probably one of Bobby's men. They were here in Mercy now, looking for her. They were so close to finding her. She tried reading but her mind rejected the words on the page until she gave up. She went into the bathroom, covered the roots of her hair that had grown out. Taking her time in the shower once that was done, Sadie was losing to fear and frustration at the entire situation.

What was she going to do?

 It had only been an hour or so after she called Axel that she heard back from him. Yes, the man came to the hospital but they cut him off before he could do any harm. Apparently, the sheriff also showed up. It was encouraging because maybe they were all really close to catching these men before they could do more harm. Maybe soon it would all be over and she could continue living here in Mercy with her friends, and her job. And Axel...

The darker corners of her mind reminded her that the men were still here for a reason. They had to know they killed the wrong woman by now. What would Bobby do about it? Send more men? Come to Virginia himself?

Late at night, the panic was hard to fight off. If it would save anyone here in Mercy who had been so kind to her from harm, maybe she should just find those men and let them kill her or take her to Bobby. No one here deserved to be shot like Ryder or killed just for trying to be good people. Just for trying to help someone who escaped from a horrible situation.

Maybe she should run away from Mercy, get started in a new place. She proved that she could survive after Bobby. Granted, she had a lot of help. And what made her heart feel like an aching open wound was the thought that she liked it here Mercy. It had become her home.

Axel had become her home.

A summer rain had started, the scent of it drifting in through the window by her bed. Turning out the light, she stretched out on her bed, trying to concentrate on the sound the rain hitting the roof. She would have given anything to be able to shut out all the thoughts and fears that plagued her. 

When someone's weight on the bed behind her pulled her out of sleep, she startled awake. Sitting up with a gasp, she found Axel sitting next to her on the bed, pulling her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know." Sadie held him for all she was worth. "I'm just happy you're here."

They stayed that way for a long moment. It felt so good, just being held in the shadows of her bedroom with the sound of rain all around them. For a moment, she could forget everything else. For a moment, she was safe and loved.

Axel smelled good. She buried her face in his long, dark hair, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of his neck.

"How is Ryder?" she asked, continuing to chain kisses over his skin. 

Axel's hold on her tightened, his hands starting to explore her.

"He's fine, Darlin'," Axel said. "Yeah, that guy showed up but he never even made it in the hospital."

"Did you stay with him while all that was going on?"

Shifting on the bed, Axel picked her up and placed her on his lap. The feel of him hot and hard beneath her was definitely pushing those lingering fears out of her mind. He was warm, solid. She wrapped herself back around him.

Axel eased back so he could meet her gaze. "That was originally the plan but a friend of his is a deputy sheriff now and she stayed with him while everything was going on."

He explained how everything went with the confrontation between the guy and Hero, the sheriff's warning.

Fears were trying to push their way back in. "Do you think the sheriff can handle it?" she asked.

His expression took on a somber note. "Darlin', if that guy pulled out in front of me an at intersection or knocked over my bike, yeah, maybe the sheriff's department could handle it. But this is serious. It's not the way of our club. We're not going to sit on our asses and wait for the sheriff to do their thing. They shot my brother and that demands an answer. And we ain't letting anyone answer for us."

It sounded like something Bobby would say, without the insults. The mob and Axel's club were both outside of the law. She didn't know a lot about either but it sounded like they had similar ways of dealing with things.If someone had attacked Bobby and his men, revenge would be swift and brutal. The Hounds might just handle things the same way.

The difference though was Bobby and Axel couldn't have been more different. Where Bobby allowed all the anger and rage he harvested from his violent world to bleed into his personal life, Axel seemed to mostly have control of it. She'd never really even seen him upset. Imagining Axel moved to violence was something she struggled to envision.

"We're going to take Ryder out of the hospital," he said. "We can't protect him there and now we know Sheriff Sawyer is watching closely, we just have to."

"Is that safe for him?" she asked. It was just Tuesday. "Considering his injuries?"

Axel sighed. "Probably not but we don't really have a choice. They can't take a chance that he saw something or could identify them. We'll take him to the clubhouse and most of the Hounds will stay there with him."

"What about you?" she asked, noticing he said most of the Hounds.

"I'm staying with you," Axel said, stealing a kiss. "I have to keep you safe too." More kisses, his arms tightened around her. "I will personally make sure that asshole never fucking ever hurts you again."

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