#trying to prove yourself and then getting a little overwhelmed in the attempt because you bit off too much is. smth i have experience with

[fore-seer]

obviously gaius is my main man because i’m in love with him but i also can’t stress enough how important ricken is to me. i really relate to him in a lot of aspects and it feels like i’ve grown up with him in a way

[sorchathered]

Dream Come True

Pairing- Bob Floyd/reader

Warnings-maybe language? It’s just straight fluff with maybe a twinge of angst.

Summary- reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore, Bob is an absolute dreamboat.

The Hard Deck is completely packed, everyone is off for the holiday weekend and it couldn’t be more overwhelming. You and Bob have hunkered down in a corner booth near the pool tables, nursing your beers while you watch the rest of the squad attempt to take on Hangman and Coyote at what is sure to be another devastating loss.

Bob comes back from the bar with more peanuts as you notice a few girls at the bar looking at him like he could be their next meal, and in true Bob fashion, he is absolutely clueless at just how hot he actually is. Just as charming as Rooster, and definitely just as handsome as Hangman; but the shy soft spoken man in front of you seems completely unaware of the looks he gets every time he steps into Penny’s bar. It’d almost be funny if you weren’t also one of the girls vying for his attention and getting absolutely nowhere.

“Goodness it sure is busy tonight, those girls couldn’t have gotten closer to me if they tried” he said, and you can’t help but throw your head back and laugh at how oblivious he was.

He quirks an eyebrow in your direction as you settle down with a deep sigh.

“You really don’t know the effect you have on people do you?” You say, mostly to yourself shaking your head with a smile, staring at your beer instead of at the bewildered WSO sitting next to you.

“Wha- Who? Me?!” Bob is beet red now, looking absolutely anywhere but at your face.

“Yes you! They were practically throwing themselves at you goofball!” Facepalming and erupting in giggles at the shock on his face.

He’s laughing with you in earnest now, but you can tell he still doesn’t quite believe you.

“Well that’s awful sweet of them darlin’ but I’ve got everything I need right here” reaching across the table and patting your hand, lingering a little longer than normal for two people who are supposedly just friends.

It’s always been like this, ever since the two of you met in the academy almost a decade ago. Sure you’ve both dated other people, but it never goes anywhere. Everyone always jokes that you’ll be married with a brood of kids one day and it gets passed off with an awkward laugh and quick subject change.

One of you is going to have to have the courage to breach whatever this is; a crush, sexual tension, love? Oh God shut up brain don’t get ahead of yourself…you’re smarter than this, if he had wanted you he would have said something by now. You could come out of your skin just thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, be his girlfriend, one day be his wife…

He’s looking at you now, eyebrows furrowed and looking a little worried that maybe the heat has gotten to you after all because you’ve all but spaced out trying to fight the war you’re having internally.

“Sweets if you think any harder your head is gonna explode, what’s going on up there?”

You open your mouth to tell him everything is fine but that is definitely (unfortunately) not what comes flying out.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we got back to Top Gun, hell probably longer than that and I doubt you feel the same and oh God this is so awkward you know what just forget I ever said anything.” You blurted it out, literal word vomit. Good job genius now he probably thinks you’re nuts.

You can’t stay and look, it’s too hot in your little corner booth and you can feel the walls closing in so you jump up and whisper a half ass apology as you push out through the crowd and mercifully make it through the door.

Gasping in the sea air and trying to regulate your breathing are proving to be difficult now, because omg what the hell were you thinking? You told your colleague (yes he was more like your best friend but nevertheless) Bob Freaking Floyd, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen that you are in love with him and then ran out of the bar like Cinderella at midnight.

While your brain is spinning out of control, you barely notice the door opening behind you, and you certainly didn’t expect to startle as the person that came through the door links his fingers with yours.

It’s him, because of course it is. You knew better than to think you could just drop a bomb like that thinking he would let it go. Taking a deep breath you spin around to his kind face and stupidly perfect blue eyes.

“You done spiraling so we can actually talk about what the hell just happened?” He says, rubbing the back of his neck and for the first time in years you can’t get a read on him. Normally you can clock how he’s feeling from a mile away but this…this is something different.

“Is there any way I can get you to forget it?”

“Not a chance”

“I- fine.”

You open and close your mouth and try to get the words out but there’s only one thing your brain is screaming at you.

3 words, 8 letters. You say it to him in your head every day, when he’s sharing his snacks with you during Mav’s long lectures, when you are watching whatever sci fi show he’s currently obsessing over and his rambling commentary has you laughing at his nerdiness, when he sees a dog in public and immediately has to burst out for you to look at the puppy and you completely swoon over him because he may be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

Just say it. Life is too damn short. Especially in your line of work.

“I love you Robby. If it screws everything up between us and we can’t move on from this I get it, but I can’t keep it in anymore I-I’m sorry.” You’re staring at your feet now, starting to wish you could just teleport to another place or jump in whatever Time Machine exists in his shows to go back to before this ever happened.

But Bob? Robert Floyd, man of your dreams? He’s not phased or shaken, not one bit. He leans in, pulls your face in with both his hands and kisses you like it’s something the two of you have always done, like it should be completely obvious to you that he’s always felt this way, he was just waiting for you to solve the puzzle yourself.

Pulling away far sooner than you’d like, he has the audacity to chuckle when you try to chase his lips.

“Silly girl, it’s always been you don’t you know that? I was just waitin’ on you to decide what you wanted, now mind you I didn’t think it’d take you this long, but I’d wait forever if it meant we ended up here.”

You let out a watery laugh as more tears stream down your face, Bob quick to swipe them away with his thumb.

“Come on sweets, let me take you home and we can spend all weekend talking about what our forever should look like, because now that I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”

And you do just that, because he really is everything you ever dreamed.

[elllisaaa]

i love your dom posts so much.. can i request one for lee minho? thank you <333

hii anonie ! I'm so sorry that it took me so much time to answer this, i was overwhelmed by uni and all the things i had to get done in my life but I'm getting back on tumblr ! i looove to do these dom posts so much i swear, hope you'll like it too, thank you for sending me your request <33

DOM!MINHO who is the biggest tease ever everytime you two get intimate, relishing in the way you whine is name when he doesn’t give you what you want.

minho loves to have you crying for him. the guys and your boyfriend himself are often making fun of you because of how sensitive and emotional you are. but behind closed doors, he's addicted to seeing your eyes well up with tears when he's fucking you so good, addicted to the way your voice is quivering because of your cute little sobs when you tell him that you're close.

"look at the mess you made kitten, you're so nasty."

and here we come to the degradation, because even if he loves you so much and will spend the rest of his life proving it to you, minho adores the way you become so eager to show him just how good you can be for him. everytime he calls you by these shameful names, eveytime he humiliates you by telling you that you're not even able to please him how he likes it, you're on your knees and ready to make all the efforts needed and prove him how wrong he is.

"you're such a slut, thinking about nothing but my cock all day right ?"

he always has a smirk on his face when you try to tease him back and resist him, not because he's going to cave in but because he finds your attempts at being a brat very amusing. because both of you know that with one slap against your ass, one ruined orgasm, minho will have you all pliant for him again. and he loves it when you're pleading for your release, when you're going on and on about how sorry you are, that you will never do it again (even if it's a lie), begging him to let you cum. all that is music to his ears.

"was it so funny to rile me up in front of my friends now ? was it so difficult to be a good girl and listen for once ?"

minho also loves to experiment things, and that's a conversation he had with you very early in your relationship because he wanted you to be as open as him about what you liked or wanted to try. every once in a while, he will brought the subject back and make sure to fulfill every need and kink you may want to explore. he likes it that as time went on, you started to confess your most secret fantasy.

"tell me more about it kitten, don't get shy on me now."

contrary to what everyone thinks, minho isn't very jealous. he knows that you're his, knows that he's the only one you want, knows that in the end, you're only giving yourself to him. but still, sometimes, he can't help the anger boiling inside of his veins when another man is too close to you. sometimes, he can't help but fuck you so rough you can't walk the next day. he can't help but litter your whole body with his marks and encourage you to do the same to him, claiming you as his, as well as he is yours.

"that's it baby, look at how beautiful this looks on you, uh ? i'm gonna make you mine."

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Sun, Sand and Graves

Part II 🏖️

Pairing : Phillip Graves x fem!reader

Word count : 1.6k

Summary : The two of you hit the town, drinking and laughing. But it all seems to fade the minute you get back to the safe house and suddenly feel a little too hot for your liking.

A/N : sudden little bursts of creativity drove me to GET THIS DONE!! I’m definitely doing a part 3 but I want you all to know that I haven’t forgotten about Yearning I’m just too intimidated to write a 3rd part in case it’s not up to anyone’s liking 🫣 but I’ll get to it soon as my Christmas treat for everybody

His idea of a night out isn’t actually bad.

The two of you wander along the bustling streets, stopping by any club or bar that catches your eye to try and intoxicate yourself further.

You deserve it, after all.

That’s what you keep saying to yourself while his hand strokes your back as you heave into the toilet because of a sketchy shot you’d just downed.

It’s what you repeat while he tucks your hair behind your ears, struggling to even aim for the strands of your hair with his wobbly hand.

He’s drunk. You’re drunk.

And it’s fun.

It’s been so long since you’ve been able to let loose and act like some sort of teenager intent on making bad decisions.

It’s been so long since you’ve been able to just let go and laugh, leaning into his open arms as he laughs with you.

It’s definitely been a successful night out.

You’re not too far from the safe house, which makes you feel better looking back on it, both of you were so drunk you couldn’t even walk straight.

You always thought Phillip was a very sober man; being a commander must straighten him up, you thought.

Today seemed to prove all of your suspicions wrong.

He’s fun.

He knows how to party, how to laugh and how to spread shivers along your skin when his hand accidentally runs down your arm.

The tips of his fingers scrape softly against your skin, calloused from combat over the years. It leaves a tingling sensation that lasts, almost snapping you out of your drunken state to wonder why he was making you feel like this.

You’re too busy smiling and giggling about the events of the night that you haven’t realised you’re right outside the safe house.

Phillip is still trailing along, dangling the keys and finally reaching you in a few drunken steps.

“.. Right.. let me just..” he murmurs to himself, standing beside you as he’s staring at the lock with glassy eyes.

“Come on..”, his words are slurred as the key bumps into the door a couple of times, finally going where he wants it to as he triumphantly twists it. The door clicks open.

You both enter and stand limply by the entrance after he locks the door behind the two of you.

“Whas the matter..?” He smiles at you, running a hand through his hair.

“Nothing.. just.. God, I shouldn’t have done that…”, you muster out some words with difficulty. Your brain seems to be clogged with beer, or whatever you’d been drinking.

You rub your eyes with the back of your hand, feeling your face in an attempt to sober up.

Your forehead is sticky with sweat from the heated atmosphere of the multiple bars you’d visited. It almost feels like a second coating of skin, causing you to quickly swipe at it with a thumb.

Nothing comes off, but you can’t shake the grimy feeling now present all over your body.

You’re still standing there, but your hands are roaming to your shoulders and skin, tugging at your clothes which seem to be damp with sweat and have trouble being pulled away from your skin.

Phillip has already crashed onto his bed, but he’s watching you with curiosity and smiling still.

“Whas the matter, sugar..?” He repeats once more, lying on his side while he examines you.

You don’t respond, this is becoming too overwhelming for you far too quickly. Your face seems to say it all to him and he slowly gets up, clutching his head from the sudden rush of movement.

While he’s walking towards you, he slips off his vest that was already pretty drenched. You’d hadn’t noticed it before.

You were both too drunk to notice how hot it was at the time, the heat must’ve slowed your perception down too.

So you’re both now blinking at each other with slowed breathing.

You want to do so many things yet your body says otherwise.

You could lay in bed and forget about this icky feeling completely.

You could shower now in your drunken state.

Or…

You could..

No.

You instantly cross that option off of the list.

You don’t even know how you’re still able to process thoughts after the copious amounts of alcohol you consumed.

A shower seems to be the best option, you finally decide.

For some reason, Graves manages to read you.

He guides you to the bathroom, holding the door open and leaning on the sink.

“You.. you can go.”

He shakes his head.

“We may both be drunk… ugh.. but, what if you fall?” He’s serious.

“What if… I don’t?”

“You might. Two drunk people are better than one.”

“.. maybe not in this context.”

He bites his lip, seemingly regretful of his suggestion.

“I’ll wait outside, just don’t lock the door in case something happens.”

“… something?” You squint at him.

“You could… fall.” He musters, shrugging and exiting the bathroom.

That’s your cue to peel off your clothes, releasing a sigh of relief at the sudden weight that had been lifted off of you at the small thud of your shorts on the ground.

You needed a cold shower, something to take the edge off. And scrub off the tingles you were still feeling from his touch.

It wasn’t right, he was your commander. He may act like an overgrown frat boy, but that doesn’t make him available to you in any way.

You don’t flinch at the cold gush of water that sprays from the shower head, you welcome it instead. Closing your eyes and letting it drip down your skin, encasing the sticky, hot surface in a cool sensation.

It allows you to take on a new perspective - one that isn’t fuzzy or clouded with lust.

He’s hot. Really hot.

It isn’t just the alcohol talking, more like it’s cheering you on to make your next move.

You’re still thinking about what to do while the water runs down your back, when it finally comes together.

You almost jump out of the shower, dripping wet and rushing to the door before stopping and taking a deep breath.

You push it open slowly, peeking your head out.

Graves is sitting by the door, clutching his head.

“Phillip..?” You look down at him, tilting your head.

“Hmmm?” He doesn’t look up.

“If you want, you can join me in the shower.”

It was a reckless thing to say, sure.

But the glint that shone in his eyes was worth it.

He got up hastily, now inches away from you. His eyes darted from your face to the obstructed view of your body, hungrily scanning for more to ogle at.

You could only smile at him, holding a hand out and pulling him inside.

His breathing seems to quicken as he swallows, trying not to stare at your body.

“Are you… are you sure?” He swallows thickly once more, looking into your eyes.

You nod, playfully tugging at the hem of his vest.

He’s like a child who’s just walked into a candy store, pulling it off but not tearing his awe-filled gaze away from you.

While he’s attempting to unbutton his shorts, you step back into the shower and watch him slyly.

He finally gets in, frantically shutting the shower door behind him and now grinning at you stupidly, examining your body for the first time.

You can’t bring yourself to do the same, now a little flustered and unable to keep up with your sudden, sultry persona. Chuckling nervously, you continue to rinse your hair out.

That’s when his hand trails up your back.

It’s slow. Deliberately slow. His rough fingertip grazing against your skin gently, as if he’s savouring the touch.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, hm?” You mustered up a sentence, unable to keep a straight face as you have your back facing him.

“No.. no.. ‘ts the first time I’ve been able to do something like this… in a while..” he murmurs, immersed in every freckle, mole or spot scattered on your skin.

He’s getting closer now, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. You can feel his smile as he presses a light kiss on the nape of your neck.

You hadn’t thought this through. You know you want this, but you’ve never fucked in a shower before.

It’s like he can sense the frenzy seemingly seeping from you, which makes him pause.

“Are you okay?”

His tone shifts. Much more sober, concerned.

You’re fine.

You’re definitely alright.

You totally don’t have his dick pressed up against your ass.

But he doesn’t seem to even notice that.

You turn to look at him, which moves his hands away from you and almost pushes him completely away.

He doesn’t come too close, but puts his hands on your shoulders now, his brows furrowed and blue eyes gazing up at you.

“We don’t have to do.. this.” Graves falters, smiling in an attempt to comfort you.

“I want to..”

“You don’t seem like it… We don’t have to do it right now, you know.”

There’s a we now.

This is all too much.

You’re still standing there limply, chewing on your lip and looking away from him.

“I know.. can I think? About this?” It’s only been one day, you need some time to consider fucking your coworker.

He doesn’t protest at all, only offers you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulders.

“Sure, sure. I’ll have a shower, alright?”

“Alright..” you mumble, exiting the shower.

You snatch a towel and leave the bathroom as quick as you can, doing your best to not even glance in the showers’ direction.

This is so embarrassing.

[writefightandflightclub]

A little burnt(out): Moon Boys (Steven Grant + Marc Spector) x fem!reader

Summary: you are feeling a little bit “useless”, and your Moon Boys are there to prove to you that’s categorically not true.

Genre: hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort - predominantly fluffy.

Rating: teen (but my blog is 18+ / minors DNI)

Author’s note: this is self-indulgent and I’m not even sure it counts as a fic per se, but I’m sharing as there’s a chance someone may enjoy it! This fic is a riff off of (recent/current) personal experiences with what I believe is autistic* burnout, but it’s kept quite general so might be suitable for anyone who is experiencing a whole range of things with similar symptoms (to oversimplify - fatigue, overwhelm etc. etc.). For obvious reasons, I chose the Moon Boys for this one! Written super quickly on my lunch break so don’t expect too much lol!

*that’s a whole other very long story as someone who is trying to get a late diagnosis in my thirties but anyway…

Warnings: maybe read the a/n to get a sense of the themes this tackles and see if it’s for you? Thx!

Gif: by @jenwallters

You had even failed to make coffee.

How?!

The thing you do on autopilot several times a day.

Well… Somehow, you had.

There is oat milk languishing in the microwave.

A boiled kettle which is now cooling, and three empty mugs sat on top of the kitchen counter.

“Er. Are you alright, love?” Steven probes gently, evidently seeing your failed attempt at making coffee for him and you and Marc (he likes it differently to Steven) as he emerges from the bathroom.

You simply pull the duvet more securely over your sarcastic, throbbing head. “Yeah. Clearly.” You ball your fists up and dig them into your eye sockets, scrubbing away the embarrassment of bubbling tears suddenly crowding your eyeballs.

Still, as much as you hate yourself for being unable to function the way you generally can, you have to admit it feels sort of nice to hide under here, in the dark and the quiet. To leave the demands -however small- behind. To be honest with yourself, and listen to your body. For once.

You ignore your body far too often. Shush what it’s trying to tell you - until it’s too late. Until your body has to scream or snap to make itself heard. Too much. Too loud. Too tired. Too long.

You can do plenty. And because you can do it, you often ignore the toll it’s taking on you, particularly when the outputs exceed your inputs. When your life isn’t set-up in the best way to make sure you can function sustainably. For the long-haul. Instead of this boom and bust cycle you seem to have found yourself trapped in, each “bust” growing harder and harder to drag yourself out of.

You refuse to listen to your body, but it always catches you up eventually - and this time, it feels harder than ever to spring back from.

Progress is slow. Whatever “progress” means anyway - an endless pursuit for more, better, faster, and perhaps you’re tiring of that. Perhaps you want things to be slow and light and easy. Soft.

Truly, lying here is just about all your body has the energy for today, even if -in contrast- your mind is racing, as per usual. Urging you to do everything.

You hear Steven sigh, and eventually, you hear the wobble of the heating kettle and tinkle of the tea spoon as he kindly finishes your task for you.

Next, you feel his weight gently dip the mattress next to you, those hefty cheeks making quite the impression. “Coffee, love,” Steven offers, in an attempt to coax you out from your duvet den. “Come and get it while it’s hot, yeah?”

You sigh, but not at him. Only because you’re fed up with yourself. At how long it’s taking to recover. So long, that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to operate like you used to. At the same time, operating like you used to fills you with a sort of dread, as you know that was precisely the problem. That it was precisely what pushed you too far in the first place.

“Come and get these lips while they’re hot, Marc says,” Steven relays on his behalf. “Got a big fat kiss waiting for you, yeah?”

Alright. Well you can’t resist that, now can you?

You abruptly shove the covers down with your forearms, squinting against the assault of the gentle light. Even these subdued sensations prove too much with your currently reduced threshold of tolerance, apparently. Regardless, you allow your grumpy face to pop into view.

Despite your grumpiness, though, Steven looks endlessly happy to see you, a soft, angelic smile lilting over his mouth. He dips to kiss your grumpy mouth, the tender, lingering press of his lips dissolving the frown from off your face like sugar stirred into sweet tea. “Morning, my goddess.”

“Pfft,” you protest, as if you could possibly be anyone’s “goddess”. Goddesses don’t cry so much in the shower, do they? Don’t have a meltdowns over report deadlines? Right? “Can’t even make a cup of coffee right anymore.”

Even so, you can’t help but notice that Steven is gazing at you like you hung the stars.

Steven’s eyebrows rise up, his expression still soft and open. Free of judgement. “That’s alright. Got your ol’ boyfriend to do it for you, ain’t you?”

Despite his sunshine -or perhaps because of his disarming brightness - your eyes close tiredly. You feel drained already, even though you’ve just woken up. Even though you’d tried to get an early night last night. Even though you’d already pruned your schedule to within an inch of its life to try and aid your recovery. “I’m just tired, Steven. Really tired.”

You feel a mess of scribbles suddenly animate in the pit of your stomach.

Full of calm, Steven sets the steaming mug down on the coaster to your side, and he reaches to tuck the duvet more closely around your chest, making you all comfy-cosy.

Still, the light frown which settles on his brow shows that he knows. That he understands. Knows you don’t mean that you need sleep. That your tiredness goes deeper than that. He’s been in that place before, after all. Has plenty to say about that.

Steven doesn’t respond in words, though. Instead, he settles his warm hand on top of yours and he nods slowly, demonstrating he’s hearing you. Validating you. That he accepts that when you say you are tired, that’s the truth. It sounds simple enough, but you’ve had an unfortunate pattern of people dismissing you throughout your life. Dismissing your challenges and struggles whenever you have spoken up, which has made it harder to trust now that your assertions will be taken at face value.

The truth is though, that by the time you actually express that you can’t continue, you’ve likely already pushed yourself far beyond your ideal limit. That it has been some time since you found yourself unable to continue, but that you “stubborned” your way through it anyway.

Steven and Marc and Jake understand. They have shown, through their words and actions, that they believe what you tell them - and after a lifetime of being sidelined, that’s no small thing.

You watch his expression shift as his eyebrows knot and travel up, his eyes shining with concern. His whole being a picture of receptiveness. Eager to listen. Promising to hear you.

You are grateful.

That openness provides you the space to say it. “I want to be better, Steven. It’s just… taking so long. I don’t even know when the last time I had energy was. Like, proper energy. I’m talking enough energy. Even tiny things seem so overwhelming. And… I can’t… I don’t think I can do it anymore. I can’t keep up.”

It’s true. Even the most basic of routines feels too much for you right now. And meanwhile, all your usual tasks and responsibilities have been piling up. So many deadlines looming. An ever expanding “to do” list. But, try as you might, you simply can’t manage to pull it back. It seems the harder you try the further you dig yourself down into this pit. The more depleted you feel. The less you are able to do the more you try to scrabble your way out of it.

You’ve tried, but you’ve been so overloaded and overwhelmed for so long that all your resources are just… gone. Right now, it knocks you into the red just to perform basic tasks, and you feel like you’ll never be in credit with your energy again.

You’re trying to go easy on yourself and allow yourself the space to recover - Steven and Marc and Jake have been supportive every step of the way too - but this coffee? That was the final straw. One of many final straws, it seems, as you keep finding yourself surprised by how many straws there are left to draw. An abundance of straws appearing from nowhere when you least expect them. How it keeps getting a bit worse without getting better.

Meanwhile, everything else is there waiting for you. Expecting you to carry on as “normal”. Your job, friends, family. You’ve told them. You’ve said, I can’t keep doing this. But they see you keep going anyway, and assume you’re fine.

Well, sometimes that is normal for you. To go go go a mile a minute. But, you are trying to accept that this is also a part of your normal too. Sometimes you can go full pelt, and sometimes… you can’t. It’s like… every activity has a cost, but unfortunately the price tags remain hidden from you. That is, until your bill hits the mat with a thud, and then suddenly you’re expected to pay up all at once. What’s more, you can never quite predict when that day is going to come.

Your boyfriends are different though, and for that, you are grateful. They know your experience is real and valid, and they acknowledge what you need. Even if you can’t always do that yourself - after so many years of masking and pushing aside your own needs until you couldn’t even recognise them.

“It’s okay,” Steven soothes, and you take a moment to admire the specific shapes the coils of his hair are making today - everyday a new delight. You’re trying to mindful of all the little things which replenish you. There is something to cling on to. “S’alright if you can’t do it for now, love. I mean… It’s okay if you can never do it again, to be fair.”

Your eyes brim with sorry tears. “I feel useless.”

Steven looks positively affronted on your behalf. He doesn’t like it when you’re unkind to yourself. You know it breaks his heart, but you can’t help it. He clamps both his hands around yours now, squeezing tight. “Aww. Come on. Look. You’re definitely not.” He brushes your face tenderly with the crook of his finger, and you know you must still look sceptical. Steven tries again, a truly valiant effort. “Anyway, you don’t even need to have a use, sweetheart. You’re a human being, not a bloody JML gadget.” Steven laughs lightly at his own attempt at kitchen-appliance-themed humour, and you manage a watery smile, at least.

“Steven…”

You shake your head, about to protest further, but he is having none of it. “How about you drink your coffee, darling, and we make it nice and dark and quiet in here, yeah?”

That does sound nice. Sounds like what you need so desperately. Still, it’s hard to allow yourself to rest. To say no to things. “We’re not going to do anything today? We need to do a food shop and I told Max I would help her with the-“

“Ssshhh,” Steven soothes. “Forget all that, yeah?”

He stands and efficiently flips the blinds. Dims the lights, before returning to you.

You take a deep breath, basking in the relief of having fewer things on your plate. Steven, for his part, scoops up the warm squashy covers and wriggles in beside you, fitting his body around yours - securely, like a big spoon.

You feel his next words warmly against the back of your neck. “You’re a human being not a human doing. Remember, love?”

You can’t help but scoff fondly at that. “Christ. You’re so cheesy, Steven.” Still, you wiggle yourself closer to him, and settle your arms on top of his where they loop around your middle.

“Maybe. But I make a mean coffee though.”

You snicker at that. “No. No, your coffee is sweet, Steven. I doubt you could make a mean thing even if you tried.”

He exhales a gentle laugh into your skin, and you feel and hear the soft wet smack as he plants a gentle kiss right behind your ear.

“What about those biscuits I made last week? They were pretty bloody offensive, weren’t they?”

You laugh. “A little burnt,” you admit, smoothing your hand over his.

You breathe in deeply, remembering. You hold your breath for a moment before you let it go, and when you do you feel a modicum of the tension eke away from your body. Steven simply nuzzles happily against you, seeming perfectly content with just this.

Today, this is all that matters.

You simply get to be.

No rushing. No expectations.

Only rest.

And that is more than enough.

You feel a little better already. More able to cope with the day, even as your eyes wander to the scene of your prior failure, Marc’s mug still steaming on the counter.

Wait.

Actually…

“Oh. Shit. Tell Marc not to drink his coffee would you, honey?”

“Too late,” Marc’s voice sounds against your neck, startling you just a tad. “I already tried it.”

Yikes.

You swivel on to your back to greet him and he remains on his side, propping his head with his elbow to get a better look at you. You slide your palm up his face by way of greeting - and apology. “Shit, sorry.”

His mouth slants into a lopsided smile. “Flour instead of sugar? Now that’s a mean coffee, babe.”

You snicker, facepalming at your slip-up, and Marc strokes his hand over your hair, studying you with a gentle vigour. Tracing nonsense shapes along your arm with his fingertips.

“Listen,” he says after a while and you tense up, his voice weighed down and a tension settled on his brow. “You’re not useless. I just needed you to hear that from me too, okay?”

You knew he’d been listening. Knew that he’d have something to say on the matter. No way he was going to let that one slide.

You can hear from the weight in his words that Marc never wants you to so much as think anything like that about yourself ever again.

“No?” you ask weakly. “Even taking into account the, um, flour in the coffee situation?” You suck air through your teeth.

Marc bends to press a lingering, soft, slow morning kiss to your mouth, and even after he has pulled back your lips still tingle. “Even then, honey.”

Marc looks down at you then with such sincerity that you could swear that -between him and Steven showering you in love- your heart grows three sizes.

Maybe it’s true - all that the boys have been telling you.

Maybe it’s not your fault that certain things seem to take a harsher toll on you, on occasion.

Maybe it is as real and valid as you’ve always suspected.

For years, you’d wondered if you had been making it up. Wondered if you should simply be able to… manage. But, pushing your discomfort away and extending yourself beyond your personal limits again and again -attempting to just manage- was exactly what had pushed you into this pit, over and over and over.

Besides, each time you found yourself here, it was proving harder and harder to crawl out of it.

Something has to give, you think. And you can’t change the world and you can’t change your wiring. Maybe all you can change -apart from the practical structures and features of your days, deciphering what support you may need - is believing you are enough, just as you are?

After all, Marc and Steven and Jake seem to have no trouble at all believing that.

Your chest tightens with the feeling of being so loved. So understood. So accepted. Your voice splits apart with a raw emotion. You could say a million things, but you only have the energy for three little words. “I love you.”

Marc’s full lips curl up at corners, his deep brown eyes glistening with emotion. “We love you too, Princess.”

Eagerly, he sinks his mouth to yours for another slow kiss.

You focus on just being.

Being here with him.

With them.

This is not just enough.

This?

This is everything.

It will all be okay.

[starrypen]

⋇⊶⊰ BY(E) THE BOOK ⊱⊷⋇

pairing: boyf!jeonghyeon x fem!reader

genre: smut

summary: jeonghyeon is curious about the book you’ve been breathing heavily over for the past 10 minutes. once he gets his hands on it, he understands why, and must find a way to prove to you that he’s just as good as fiction. it’s a shame your fun gets cut short.

warnings: quotes are taken from the spanish love deception, pet names, fingering, reader “tastes” herself, power play, cut short.

a/n: the lack of jeonghyeon smut is driving me insane, i had to write one for myself

attempting to pry the book out of your hands, jeonghyeon grabbed it by the spine, a devilish smile on his face.

“why won’t you let me see?” he complained, almost pouting, “if it’s not that bad, why won’t you let me read it?” he repeated.

“because,” you removed your thumbs one at a time from the pages they were trapped between, “it’s private!”

“i could go and pick this one up from the bookstore in town,” he laughed, refusing to let go.

“don’t you have a meeting soon?” you asked, trying to change the subject.

“in fifteen minutes,” it didn’t work, his grip becoming stronger.

you sighed, maybe even grunted, in frustration. the book slipped through your sweaty hand and was suddenly at the sole discretion of your boyfriend. his slender fingers located the magnetic bookmark at the top of the book and quickly opened it to the page. you wanted to escape but you knew you’d have to face the consequences at some point.

““i should lay you there and fuck you deep and slow”” he quoted, a slight bit of judgement to his reading. “i didn’t realise books could be so… horny,” he looked at you for confirmation before reading on. ““i felt his hard length against my ass” seriously?” he asked, looking at you once again, this time closing the book and tossing it to the end of the bed. he took in your response, you shifted a little and averted your eyes, he expected no different. “do you enjoy that?” he asked, a little too casually for you to even consider lying to him.

“it’s not the best literature in the world, but yes,” you rolled your eyes, not that he could see. “please don’t make this weirder than it already is by asking me anything else” you sighed a second time, turning over to face him, hoping your pleading eyes would convince him.

“there’s a lot i want to know… but…” you raised a brow as he spoke, “but let me ask just one more question.”

you nodded apprehensively. you knew by his tone that is was nothing too embarrassing.

“do you ever read it wishing it was you?” he asks.

you furrow your brows and jolt your head back, as if he’d just sneezed in your face.

“i mean, even if they are just two fictional characters, it’s still kinda hot, no?” he pressed, “and i know it was turning you on.”

suddenly, you felt tiny under his gaze. you wanted to touch yourself, even just thinking about the book, and maybe how jeonghyeon could treat you just like the guy in the book does.

“am i right, angel?” he asked, his arm coming over you and pinning you under it.

you hummed sheepishly.

“show me,” his lips met yours, brushing against your own as he spoke again, “show me how turned on it made you.” his hand now caressed your side, still holding you to the bed.

you nodded, only wanting to please him, “how?”

he took his hand from your side and grabbed yours, guiding it to your shorts. you took them off without giving it any second thought, your panties coming off too.

“can i touch you?” he asked, as if he hadn’t made you feel good thousands of times before.

“please,” you begged.

the coldness of his hand fingers hit your core, or maybe it was overwhelming pleasure from the feeling of his slender digits against your pussy.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he seemed to rush to kiss you again, leaning in quickly only to bring his fingers to your lips instead. he traced over them before you let him put them in your mouth, tasting your own wetness. and as soon as he romoved them, he’d replaced them with his tongue, wanting to taste you just as much as you had. meanwhile, his fingers worked your pussy, teasing your clit and occasionally slipping one finger inside of you as he kissed you.

by the feeling of his hardening cock against your thigh, you knew jeonghyeon was getting far too into this for someone who had to be out of the house in a few minutes. with your hands at his shoulders, you pushed him away from you.

“haven’t you got a meeting to be at?” you giggled, the boy already stripping himself of the t-shirt he’d only just put on. you sat up, running your fingernail down his chiselled torso. “hmm?” you probed.

he threw his hand back and groaned, supporting himself with his hands. “you’re right, but i know i won’t be able to stop thinking about you the whole time.”

you heard the boy rambling, but you couldn’t help yourself. your lips pressed against the bare skin on his chest. he looked down at you, scoffing at your selfishness but not once complaining. you created a pattern with your kisses, leading you down, over his abs.

“i really need to go,” he moaned, despite not making an effort to move from under your lips.

they teased at jeonghyeon’s navel, his head falling back in both pleasure and anticipation.

“fuck,” you heard him moan under his breath.

you smiled against his torso before continuing the trail of kissing, down, almost reaching his waistband, when you felt his hand gently caress your hair. you look up towards him, his eyes meeting yours unexpectedly. it was like a heavy blow of lust, combined with the perfect amount of love and adoration.

“angel,” you sat up again upon hearing the pet name, “you know i love you, but can we finish this later?” he asked, defeated by the timing.

“fine,” you rolled your eyes with an understanding smile as you watched your boyfriend put his shirt on again.

he stretched his legs over the bed before sorting himself out in front of the long length mirror, throwing his bag over his head. “oh,” he turned, “and i’ll be taking this with me,” he picked up the book he’d dismissed a few moments ago and slipped it into his bag, “can’t have you getting turned on by a man that isn’t me!”

[skaithis]

| Live for me | Cliso oneshot | VALORANT

🦋 pairing / ship : Clove x Iso 🦋 word count : 3,5k 🦋 tw : suicide attempt, suicide mention, death mention, terminal illness, primary character death 🦋 note : it's my first oneshot in the entire life. Not really sure if it's good enough, since english is my not first language, but I've tried my best. Let me know what you think!

“You should stop doing that, Clove.”

“Why? I don't understand why you don't believe in me, you saw it wasn't a coincidence, I've proven it more than once!”

“You’re not a superhero. Please stop, this is going too far. You don't even know how fleeting life is.”

“...duh. Shut yer gob.”

His words to them were like a cold bucket of water on a body warmed with enthusiasm and excitement. He didn't believe in them? Clove's been trying it a few times... and all because of this bizarre and still unexplained media incident.

That attack near the gym they went to… were they lucky or not? Clove didn't remember much, except the flash of the knife, the vague words echoing down the cramped, stuffy alley in which they were attacked. The man probably wanted money, or their belongings… the only memory that could awaken in Clove was a strange, sudden prick, when they saw again, with the eyes of imagination, a knife thrust into their body, the heat dissipated by an enormous amount of adrenaline... they felt not too much pain, just overwhelming fatigue. Or was there so much pain that the mind wanted to forget it, erase the traumatic struggle for life?

It was just a memory now. It's been a year and a half. No one could explain so many stab wounds that didn't hit any vital organ. None. Luck? Magic power? Destiny? Everyone says it differently. Clove didn't believe it until another accident happened over three months ago, with a lot of fatalities, and they came out with a few scratches and a broken arm. It was supposed to be a simple trip to another country; no one thought what would happen near the end of the trip...

These memories were horrible, painful; howling sirens, glaring lights, screaming echoing, ringing in their little aching head... every time they thought it was the end, they would never see Zhao Yu again, they would never go back to university, they would never laugh at bubble tea with friends, exchanging stories and gossip. And every time they were wrong, leaving the hospital building sooner or later.

It was no different now.

Maybe that's why Iso was so mad at them? Clove's mind didn't get much of his concern for them as they breathed in a bubble of abstract fantasy about their powers. More and more, with each passing day, they believed that it couldn't be a coincidence, that everything that happened to them couldn't have been random luck. And more and more insistently, Clove wanted to prove to him that it was worth believing.

A deep inhale and exhale escaped from their mouths as they gathered thoughts on how to respond to their beloved. But before they opened their mouths, Iso continued.

“Clove, one day your luck will run out. I don't want to lose you because you want to prove something to the world or to yourself. Or me. You know I won't be able to be with you all your life.”

“Eh, fuck up, okay? I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to hear anything about it, not now,” Clove interrupted him immediately, feeling their heart trembling with fear, filled with thoughts that Zhao Yu is not destined to live as long as they are. ”...I wanted to have a good day, ya know.”

There was a clear definition of distress in his purple, flowery eyes; he felt as if he were slowly losing his beloved, and he could not grasp them, unable to follow them into the inevitable darkness that the Clove had chosen as their path. He was afraid; it was harder and harder for him to look into that charming, unpredictable head on which he kissed tenderly every day. Physical pain often took control over him, occupying his thoughts, robbing him of the happiness he had been striving for with Clove. Which made him think of the darkest questions and scenarios that forced him to reflect.

Will he ever be able to look into their minds again? Understand them, like he used to?

Will Clove want to be understood?

Zhao Yu grabbed their hands, gently drawing circles on their soft skin with his thumb; he always did so when he thought intensely, holding his beloved hand. It was the unconditional reflex that Clove had always seen, trying to guess his thoughts, to understand what was going on. But now it was quite different, Clove could not guess what was in the boy's mind; or rather, they were afraid to guess, so they chose to say nothing, think nothing. For their own good.

The journey home passed in a complete, dense silence, which irritated the nostrils, hurting their throats; it could be said that the lovers were suffocating in the atmosphere they had caused, which in time took on colors of sadness, sorrow. They were both asking themselves the same question.

Why can't my beloved see all of this the way I do?

Silence accompanied them, grabbing their throats until Iso pulled out the keys to the dorm room. Clove dared to speak, looking sadly at Iso, who with a stone face opened the door for them, waiting for them to enter first.

“But... you still love me the same, don’t you?”

A childish question evoked a cheerful smile on Zhao Yu’s face, which he hid, stealthily turning his head towards the room, following Clove inside. He disliked such questions; they were definitely a waste of time and thought. It wasn't worth worrying about, since the answer was always the same. But he also understood that Clove didn't quite know how to start a conversation.

He closed the door behind them, slowly making his way to the kitchen to boil water for tea for both of them. Their little ritual every time they walked into the house together. Only when everything was ready he turned around, hearing the quiet footsteps of his beloved behind him. His hand wandered to their cheek, stroking it; he said nothing, staring at those charming freckles, feeling the remnants of the anger he felt, running away from his body and mind into oblivion, and his muscles relaxed, trying to be as gentle as possible towards Clove.

“Tiánxīn, I will never stop loving you. Even as your life decisions are increasingly worrying me. I know you don't want to talk about this, but we have to do this.”

“Ya promise me that never really means never? Like… never-never ye?”  Clove asked quietly, hugging the beloved, leaning their cheek against his soft sweatshirt, listening to his heartbeat. It was restless. Iso was nervous about starting this conversation, but they had to go through this together. They both needed it. Without anger, without convincing oneself by force, and without running away from the subject. It took too long. They had to understand each other. For their sake.

“…It really means that,”  Iso replied without hesitation, hugging them in his iron embrace, allowing them to endure that sweet moment, and the silence around them was warm and safe.

“But say it, please?” they whimpered with puppy eyes, wanting to hear exactly what they said a moment ago, but from their beloved.

“...fine. Never-never,” sometimes Iso didn't see the point in trying to get the conversation back on track right away. The little mocking and little words they used were their love language, and he loved to tease Clove, pretending to forget about them.

There was a pile of papers on the table, perfectly arranged; Iso apparently put them there before picking up Clove from the hospital. It was hard for him to begin this conversation, but he calmed down, looking into the innocent, silver eyes of his beloved, wanting them to understand his point of view.

“Clove,” he started, putting the tea aside, grabbing one medical file after another, slowly leafing through them, page by page. “I know what happened a year and a half ago was a miracle. I never meant to call it like that but... from the beginning, I believed you were extraordinary. Every time you’ve had an accident, I became more and more sure of what I thought. But look,” he continued, carefully rolling up the sleeve of their shirt to show Clove the scar on their own freckled skin.” This was from three months ago, a bus accident on the highway. It wasn't your fault, of course... but it left you a scar for life. And now? Clove, you fell off the fucking balcony. I’ve read your hospital documents today, and I can't believe it was an accident, the way you so brilliantly described it to the doctors, so smart. I didn't want to start this in front of the hospital building, but it was called a miracle again. It's a miracle you're alive. And how many scars do you have from that? How many painful memories do you write on your skin this way? Every time I look at this, I feel like I'm losing you.”

Tears gathered in his eyes, Clove felt his hands were shaking. Iso was right. How many times have they pushed themselves into the embrace of death, which casted an icy glance at them, only to turn away at the last moment? Why would they think only of themselves to prove it to the world? Why didn't they think about the emotions of those close to her? Zhao Yu, their friends... they were everything to them. So why did they act like they had nothing to lose?

Was the answer his cruel illness, slowly taking his life? Clove did not want to be left alone, yet that future was inevitable for them, waiting for their journey together, one day they would end alone. 

It's only a matter of time.

Tears flowed down their cheeks, the world became blurred. They cried loudly, looking at the hospital papers piled up on the table in front of them. Could they have died that many times? This madness... it seemed like an unreal dream, as if all the visits and the pain and the fear were already dusty fiction that they read a few years ago without believing a word of it.

And yet all these thoughts were obscured by an icy fact that screamed all the time in the chaos of thoughts whirling around.

Iso is slowly dying.

“ ... You promised me we’d finish college together and adopt a cat! Adopt our little stupid Simba, ae?! Where is my behavior all of sudden selfish when you will just… just walk away to the other plane of existence or something whatever they have up there and leave me forever? Why is testing my gift an act of selfishness for you when you're gonna die?”

Clove didn't quite know how to collect the chaotic thoughts scattered all over their lost head. They felt like a lost child, waiting for a clue, a path to take. When they looked into Iso’s eyes, everything suddenly seemed terrifying. 

Zhao Yu knew that words should not be spoken now; silence and their tears were the most precious when he again held them tightly in his arms, wanting to remain with them forever, to protect them from the world, from their lost mind wandering for too long. Even if words could explain or justify anything, he had no idea what he could convey to them.

“I know you don’t want to lose me, my butterfly, but... you have to be aware that it will happen someday. My illness is progressing, and I'm sorry to tell you this, but... we can't avoid this subject anymore. Every day I'm happy to have the chance to wake up with you, to live with you... you don't know how I feel when I think I can lose that.”

Sorrowful, lavender eyes looked deep into Clove's soul, wanting to ease their pain; though this not something material, he felt he could get into their soul with a very tender gesture, word, healing its bleeding wounds slowly, bringing comfort. Clove nodded as an answer, unable to say even the smallest word for a long time.

“Me too... I don’t want to wake up without you... and yet it will happen. When? When, ya numpty? So selfish…” they muttered, but their beloved did not know the answer. The trembling hands clamped on the soft sweatshirt of his.

“I don’t know, tiánxīn.”

His words echoed through the dorm, and the only answer was silence. Iso grabbed their face, giving them one, tender kiss. They looked each other in the eyes again, resigned, tired of the actual fight. It was too much.

“Let’s live. For both of us” Iso smiled tenderly, and Clove had no choice but to nod. They were helpless children who were exposed to a cruel reality, left to fend for themselves. They couldn't waste those moments, those crumbs of life they had left.

Their lives went on; they went to university together in peace, they met with friends. The wounds healed with every morning, a warm smile full of happiness, raindrops streaming down the glass on cloudy days... a sip of sweet white tea, a gentle gesture of hands... every crumb of their life together was another step to the future they might have before them, which they timidly built. Month after month, Iso's health got worse, but Clove's support helped him continue his normal student life.

This last semester, the hospital was inevitable.

Clove had to survive their first day alone in the dorm, the whole world became gray and just blant. No melody… no view was the same. Everything seemed dead, withered. This is how they lived now, going to the hospital to visit Iso was harder with each passing day. This little bit of light that these visits gave them was a still smoldering hope that things would get better.

They promised each other they'd live. Right..?

Another month passed, and loneliness became one of Clove's parts. They went to classes, talked to people, and the pain had become… some kind of a habit.

The last class went by very quickly. As the Clove left the university building, only the moon and a few stars illuminated the world around them, and the sound of the wind dancing through the treetops broke the silence. The Clove did not want to be left alone with their thoughts, slowly accepting that they must leave the past behind. It was hard, but with small steps, and with the help of their beloved, they knew they could do it. Step by step they walked towards the dormitory, feeling that this incredibly short journey was going far too long. More and more people passed by until Clove realized there were far too many of them.

They looked around; there were a lot of people standing in front of the dorm building, looking up, pointing at something, taking pictures, recording. When they raised their head like the rest of the crowd, their heart stopped.

The girl standing in the window on the fifth floor. The wind blew away her hair, and she stood barefoot on the window sill, looking down. Clove took off their headphones, suddenly hearing the noise of screams and chaos around her.

“Do you think she’ll jump?”

“Someone call the police! Don’t stare at her, you idiots!”

“Help her!”

Has time slowed down? All the memories Clove had in their head suddenly went quiet. They entered the building without hesitation, rushing up the stairs, not feeling the slightest bit of fatigue, the breath was even, but the heart was beating like crazy. No thought barged in their mind, not even a shadow of doubt, when they saw the door, which must have led to the girl's room. 

They tugged the doorknob; closed. Despite their small body, Clove managed to kick the right spot to break the door and get inside. They themselves did not know they had so much strength; adrenaline allows for inexplicable things.

Immediately they felt a strong draft; an open balcony, whose doors opened and closed in turn, slamming the dancing white curtains.

The girl did not see Clove, and apparently because of stress and fear she did not pay attention to the noise; she leaned over, letting go of the balcony rails. 

Time was non-existent at this short moment, nothingless was around; Clove jumped on the balcony, grabbing the girl’s clothes with all their might, holding her tightly. Their tiny body couldn’t cope with the girl’s larger weight, so Clove stood leaning over the balcony, looking into the eyes of a frightened girl who seemed to snap out of her trance, realizing what was going on.

“Take my hand! Fuck, I beg ya!“

Clove's voice was filled with despair as they looked at the girl with tears in their eyes, and their strength slowly subsided, hands shook with effort, and their fingertips became whiter and whiter. The strength returned once more when the girl made a gesture to show that she still wanted to fight, she still wanted to live. She grabbed their hand tightly; now they both were hanging in a dangerous position, but Clove shrieked with the remnants of their forces, throwing the girl in, and… losing their balance.

Those moments were like a slideshow happening right in front of their eyes. They didn't even remember the girl's face, except for those frightened, gray eyes that begged for help.

Maybe that's why it happened? Would the Clove have come to their senses, valuing their lives over hers, if it weren't for this silent plea for rescue? Now it was too late to guess and wonder. The last sight they saw was a cloudless sky and pale stars before dark.They closed their eyes to see their loved one's smile in their memories for the last time. 

Everything will be okay.

“It’s not the first time they’ve been lucky. There were already a lot of incidents in their files, the media talked about it.”

“It was no longer luck in my opinion. It was stupidity and nothing more”

“But they are hero after all.”

The vague words reached Clove's head before they opened their eyes. They learned the quiet rhythm of the hospital apparatus, which they had heard many times before. They were alive. They did it again.

They couldn't even whisper a word or move. The white coats in front of them suggested the voices belonged to the doctors. As soon as they saw Clove awake, they immediately came closer to talk and ask some questions.

“Hello Clove, please tell me how you can hear us,” said the oldest of the doctors, measuring their pulse and examining their body reactions. “You're very lucky to be alive. The surgery went well and it looks like you're doing okay for now. Keep it up and maybe you'll get out of the hospital as quickly as before.“

“What... surgery...” Clove could barely whisper the words that frightened them. Trying to get up, they felt a huge pain in their chest. Doctors immediately stopped them from even trying to get up.

“You had multiple organ failure caused by a massive fall. It's a good thing you didn't fall directly on your skull, or we wouldn't have been able to save you.“

The silence that followed these words was overwhelming, breathtaking, mercilessly catching the throat and forcing tears. They survived. They miraculously survived. But someone gave their life for it.

“Whose... whose organs do I have?” they whispered, looking blankly into space until they saw a letter on a small table next to their bed. They stretched out their hand in silence, and tears flowed uncontrollably down their pale cheeks, as the first letters allowed them to see who the handwriting belonged to.

“Clove,

For a long time, I felt my time was coming. When they brought you to the hospital, I felt like this was the time to say goodbye. I've always feared I'd lose you, and I would never stand one second of my life knowing you were gone before me. My last act to leave with dignity and peace was to agree that you could carry my heart and live.

So live for the two of us. Finish college together, adopt the cat we've always dreamed of. Make our favorite tea every day and laugh, smile, because I've always loved to look at you when you were happy.

Just live for me.

Li Zhao Yu.“

***

That day was exceptionally sunny. White tea, freshly brewed, slowly cooled on the window sill, from which there was a magnificent view of the endless sea. Clove watched the waves crashing into the sandy shore, thoughtfully. The scars were barely visible; besides, they often dressed so that those memories could be seen; then they felt as if Zhao Yu was still with them. The meow of the cat, which demanded attention, awakened them from their thoughts

“Yeh, come on, Simba, give me five minutes and we’re going for a walk as I promised aye? Just… let me finish my tea. It’s my sacred ritual ya know that.“ 

They smiled at their pet, which ignored the owner’s words and continued to make a noise. Clove rolled their eyes, looking back at the setting sun, smiling.

“So… what are our next dreams, Iso?”

Thank you for reading!~

[sarahisgay01]

Can you do a fruity four oneshot/imagine where they notice reader start to get anxious then reader has an anxiety attack which leads to reader passing out? And then they take care of reader because it really worried them. (At home)

I've asked so many people this and none of them have done it so.

Yes!! I’ve been wanting to write some fluffy stuff and this is right up my alley cause I’ve been anxious asf lately.

You’re Not What You Think You Are

Fruity Four x Reader

Angst and Fluff

Trigger Warning: Anxious behaviors, dissociating, flashbacks, verbal parental abuse, panic attack, passing out

It’s Wednesday and you already want this week to be over. Your entire family is out of town on vacation and you had to stay home because of school. You hate being alone, it not only makes you depressed, but it also makes your anxiety much worse. Normally, you’d ask one of your friends to stay with you, at least for a night or two while your family’s gone, but each of them has their own stuff going on. You don’t want to bother them, between their jobs and school, you can’t imagine how stressed they are. School isn’t helping your anxiety and depression either, not at all. So far, you’ve had at least one test each day this week, with another one tomorrow and a project due Friday that you’re only a quarter of the way done with. You’re so overwhelmed, but the only person aware of that, is you. None of your friends know because you don’t want to trouble them with your problems. You’d never mention this to your parents, they’d only make you feel worse. So, you decided that this is your battle to fight and you’ll manage it alone. You’re currently at school, sitting in your chemistry class, taking a test. Suddenly, the lunch bell rings, signaling your time is up. In shock, you look up at the clock in the classroom and the time proves that it wasn’t a false bell, class was actually over. You’re on the second to last question and you realize that you’re not going to finish. Everyone else in your class is standing up, backpacks on, and handing their tests to your teacher. Once the last student leaves, the teacher finally notices you in the back corner of the classroom. He notices that you’re rushing to write things down and says, “Y/N, I’m sorry, but I need your test.” You look up at him with tears in your eyes. A lump forms in your throat as you’re trying not to cry. You ask him, “Mr. Johnson, can I please just have five more minutes? Please?” His eyes soften and he says, “(Y/N), I’m sorry. I wish I could, but it wouldn’t be fair to the other students.” As much as you hated his response, you knew he was right. You stand up, throw your backpack over your shoulder, then walk over to him and hand him your test with your head down. He says, “(Y/N), I’m truly sorry you weren’t able to finish” and you can tell by his tone that he was being sincere. You weren’t able to look at him because you were trying your best not to cry. A mumbled, “It’s okay” leaves your mouth, before you leave the classroom and head directly to the bathroom. You immediately head to the big stall, then lock its door behind you. Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you’re taking deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself down. A couple minutes after, you stop crying, then leave the stall and look in the mirror. Your eyes and face are a little red, but other than that, you looked fine. You left the bathroom and made your way towards the cafeteria, acting like nothing happened.

When you enter the cafeteria, you see your friends eating at their normal lunch table. You walk over to them and they all greet you while you sit down. Nancy’s sitting beside you, Robin’s sitting in front of her, and Eddie is sitting across from you. Eddie says, “(Y/N), we were about to go looking for you, what took you so long?” You reply, “I just had to go to the bathroom, that’s all” and they nod. Nancy turns to you and says, “You just had your chemistry test, right? How’d that go?” Immediately, you start feeling a pain in your chest and the lump in your throat returns, but you’re determined to fight it off. You say, “I did, yeah. It was fine”, that may have been your response, but all three of them could tell something was off. None of them wanted to push you though, so Nancy just said, “Well, that’s good, I think. You’re really smart, so I’m sure you did well.” All you could manage to respond with was a slight nod, not making eye contact with any of them. That was all the confirmation they needed to know that something was definitely wrong. Immediately, you think to yourself, “If I was smart, I would have finished the test” and the pain in your chest starts to hurt more. Robin’s the first to say something, she asks, “(Y/N), is something wrong?” You can feel three pairs of eyes staring at you, awaiting your response. You shake your head and say, “No, I’m okay. What were you guys talking about before I came over?” Robin replies, but you’re so in your head, that you can’t comprehend what she’s saying. You think to yourself, “I’m a liar.” The three of them go back to their conversation, hoping that you’ll join in, but you don’t. You can hear them talking, but none of their words are processing through your brain. More thoughts form and they’re coming at you a mile a second, eating you alive. You’re just sitting there, staring at a chip in the table. You’re completely zoned out, but it feels a hundred times worse than usual. You have no idea what’s happening and you feel like you’re in a movie. The pain in your chest hasn’t gone away and neither has the lump in your throat. The pain is the only thing making you feel like you’re real. You start to feel yourself getting dizzy, but you ignore it. As your brain continues to focus on your thoughts, your chest starts to feel tight and the lump in your throat is making you feel like you can’t breathe. Then, the chip in the table you’ve been staring at has been blocked by a hand that’s waving in front of your face. It’s big and has callouses on the finger tips with several metal rings on its knuckles. You’re so zoned out that it takes you a few seconds to realize Eddie is waving his hand in front of your face. He says in a playful tone, “(Y/N). Hellooooo, earth to, (Y/N).” You blink harshly, squeezing your eyes shut for a few seconds and shake your head a few times. When you open your eyes and look at him, you mumble, “Sorry.” His eyes soften and he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?” You can feel Robin and Nancy looking at you, also wanting to make sure you’re okay. You lie to them for the second time and say, “Mhmmm. I’m fine, I’m just tired. Don’t worry.” Eddie nods, even though he doesn’t believe you and you keep repeating the word “Liar” in your head. It’s interrupted by Eddie tapping you and he says, “We wanted to know if you’re free on Saturday? We were talking about hanging out at Steve’s. Just us three and Steve, of course. Nothing crazy either, we’ll probably just watch some movies and hang out.” You reply, “That sounds good, I’ll be there” and Eddie says, “Okay, great!” Then, the three of them start talking again. As soon as their attention is no longer on you, you start to zone out again.

Your thoughts come rushing back to you, this time harsher than before. There were so many before, but now the same ones keep cycling back, like they’re stuck on a loop. “If you tell them what’s wrong, you’ll worry them”, “You’ll be a burden”, “You don’t want to be a burden, do you?”, “You’re a liar”, “You’re dumb”, “You’re going to fail your test tomorrow”, “You’re not going to be able to finish your project by Friday”, “You should’ve finished that test”, and “You’re pathetic” keep repeating, over and over again. Then, flashbacks of your parents screaming, “You’re pathetic” and “You’re a failure” to you, play in your mind like it happened just a few minutes ago. You start to feel the pain in your chest getting much worse and the lump in your throat makes you feel like you can no longer breathe. You’re on the verge of tears, but you remind yourself where you are. You quickly stand up, throw your backpack over your shoulder, and dart to the bathroom. Luckily for you, it was empty again, so you return to the big stall and lock its door behind you. You immediately start bursting into tears and lean up against the painted brick wall of the bathroom. Too overwhelmed to care about how dirty the floor is, you just slide down, until your butt hits the floor. Your knees are at your chest and you curl yourself up into a ball while crying. The flashbacks of your parents screaming at you are on replay in your mind. You put your hands over your ears and keep mumbling “stop”, over and over again. They continue playing, their voices are all you can hear and their faces are all you can see. The lump in your throat becomes unbearable and it starts to feel like you’re suffocating. Your chest feels extremely tight and it’s making it feel impossible for you breathe. You start hyperventilating and seconds later, the door to the bathroom swings open. Your eyes are fluttering open and shut, but you see a pair of red converse with doodles on them, followed by a pair of black flats. It’s Robin and Nancy. They hear crying and hyperventilating, but if they’re saying anything, you can’t hear it. All you can hear are your parents’ voices. You watch as Nancy ducks her head down to look underneath the stalls. Apparently, she can recognize you by your shoes and pants. She comes running over to the big stall and tries to open it, but realizes you locked it. Before she can even think about breaking down the door, Robin lays on her backpack and slides underneath the stall door. She sees you hyperventilating with your hands over your ears, your body shaking and you’re aggressively shaking your head side-to-side. Robin quickly unlocks the stall door for Nancy and rushes over to you first. She sits beside you and puts her leg against yours in attempt to ground you, but you’re too far gone. You stop shaking your head as your eyes start taking longer flutters. You’re trying to resist passing out and you keep jerking your head up every time your eyes are closed too long. Nancy quickly makes her way into the stall and kneels down in front of you. That’s all you remember before everything goes black.

You passed out, falling into Robin, who extends her legs and moves your head onto her lap. She starts freaking out and rambling, “Nance, what are we going to do? I don’t know what to do! I knew something was wrong, I knew it! Why wouldn’t they tell us that whatever was going on was this bad? Cause this is bad. Clearly, very very bad.” Nancy says, “Robin, I need you to calm down, so I can think. Okay? They’re going to be fine.” Robin nods, takes a deep breath, and says, “Okay. Okay. Yeah, I can do that. Totally. I can totally do that.” Nancy starts pacing and a minute later, she says, “Okay. Steve’s at home, right?” Robin thinks for a second and replies, “Yeah, we don’t work today at all. Why?” Nancy says, “Okay, that’s perfect. The plan is, you’re going to stay here with (Y/N), while I go call Steve. He’s going to come pick you and (Y/N) up, then the three of you are going to go back to his house. After I call Steve, I’m going to find Eddie and we’re going to meet you guys at Steve’s.” Robin takes a few seconds to process everything and replies, “Okay, sounds good. Now go!” Nancy quickly makes her way to the school’s phone and calls Steve. The phone rings a few times before he answers. He says, “This is the Harrington residence, Steve Harrington speaking how-”, but Nancy cuts his greeting short. She says, “Steve! I need you to come to the school ASAP. (Y/N) had a panic attack and passed out.” He says, “Nance? Wait, what? I’ll be there in 10 are they okay?” and Nancy replies, “I don’t know, but they’re with Robin in the bathroom. I’m going to go find Eddie and we’ll meet you at your house. Sound good?” Steve says, “Yeah, I’ll be there as fast as I can” and Nancy says, “Thank you”, before Steve hangs up the phone. She runs back to the cafeteria and as soon as she enters, the bell rings. Nancy can see Eddie’s mane of hair and immediately runs over to him. He sees how stressed she looks and asks, “Everything good, Wheeler?” and Nancy replies, “Robin and I found (Y/N) in the bathroom crying, then they passed out. They’re with Robin now and I called Steve. He’s on his way right now to pick the two of them up. You’re riding with me and we’re going to Steve’s.” He says, “Dammit! I knew they weren’t okay!” and the two of them start quickly walking towards the parking lot. Eddie asks, “Did (Y/N) say anything before passing out?” and Nancy says, “Not that I know of. They locked themself in the big stall, so Robin slid under and got in there first. She unlocked the door for me and I quickly kneeled in front of them. Only a couple seconds later, they passed out, falling into Robin’s shoulder.” He replies, “I wish they would have said something. I’d drop everything to make sure they’re okay” and Nancy says, “Me too. We all would.” The two of them make it out to the parking lot and wait for Steve. A couple minutes later, he pulls in at an alarming speed and hops out of the car like it’s on fire. He looks at Eddie and Nancy, then says, “Which bathroom are they in?”, his eyes and tone showing just how worried he is. Nancy replies, “East. The one closest to the cafeteria” and then he was gone. As soon as he heard everything, Steve was sprinting into the building, while Eddie and Nancy waited in the parking lot until everyone returned.

Steve was running through the school hallways until he came across the bathroom. He knocked before he walked in and said, “Robin?” She replied, “Steve! Steve, come in! Come in!” and he barged through the bathroom. He ran over to the big stall and stopped as soon as he saw your head on Robin’s lap. You were still unconscious and Robin had tears in her eyes. He said, “Okay, let me pick her up and while we walk back to my car, please tell me what the hell happened?” and Robin replied, “Okay. Of course, yeah. Of course.” Steve picks (Y/N) up with ease and Robin opens the bathroom door for him. As they’re walking, Robin says, “Okay, I- I have no idea what’s really going on with (Y/N), but this is what happened. They came over to us at lunch and something was obviously wrong, but Eddie, Nancy, and I didn’t want to push them to say anything they didn’t want to. We were all talking and then, out of nowhere, they just got up and ran away. Nance and I went to look for them, cause we of course were worried, cause they wouldn’t just run off like that for no reason, you know? Anyway, we entered the bathroom and heard crying, but nobody would respond. We looked underneath the stalls and found them curled up in a ball, locked in the big stall. I slid underneath it, then unlocked the door for Nance. A couple seconds after she entered, (Y/N) passed out.” Steve said, “I really wish they would have told at least one of us what was happening. They know we care, right? I care about them so much.” A couple tears fall and roll down Robin’s cheeks. With her voice quivering she says, “We all- We all do.” He looks at her with soft eyes and nods, wishing he could hug her. They’re about to leave the school and Robin starts wiping her tears away. She opens the door for Steve and they start walking to the parking lot. Nancy and Eddie come running up to them and Nancy asks, “They haven’t woken up yet?” Both Steve and Robin respond shaking their heads no, making both of them more anxious than they were. Eddie starts fidgeting with his rings and Nancy start biting her lip while pacing. Nancy stops her pacing, takes a deep breath, and says, “It’ll be okay. We need to get them back to Steve’s though. So, uh- okay. Okay, I got it. Robin, sit in the back of Steve’s car for me. The three of us are going to get (Y/N) situated in the back with you. Their head is going to be on your lap again and I’m going to need you to, you know, protect their body while Steve drives. Sound good?” As Robin starts moving towards the backseat of Steve’s car, she says, “Yeah, I got it Nance.” She sits in the back and puts her seatbelt on, then Nancy, Eddie, and Steve, work on getting (Y/N) into the backseat. Once (Y/N)’s situated in the backseat, Steve gets in the driver seat and starts the car. Meanwhile, Eddie and Nancy are quickly making their way to Nancy’s car. Steve drives off and Nancy leaves only a minute or two after them. Robin started tearing up in the backseat as she ran her fingers through your hair. Steve heard sniffles and looked through his rear view mirror. His eyes soften again and he says, “Rob, it’s gonna be okay. They’re gonna wake up and everything’s going to be fine.” She replies, “Yeah, I know. I’m just worried about them, cause why wouldn’t they tell us? And I don’t want to bombard them with questions when they wake up, but I want to know. I want to know what’s going on, everything.” Tears start rolling down her cheeks again and Steve says, “I know, Rob. I know. We’re all worried and we all want to know. We’ll figure everything out once they wake up and we’ll help them the best we can, that’s all we can do.” Robin nods her head while wiping her tears away with one hand, the other still combing through your hair. By the time everyone arrives to Steve’s house, you’re still unconscious. Steve turns off his car and throws his keys to Nancy. She quickly unlocks and opens his door, while Steve maneuvers you off of Robin’s lap. He picks you up and carries you inside, then places you on the couch, with your head resting on some pillows.

Robin, Eddie, and Nancy are in the kitchen, anxiously waiting for you to wake up. Steve gets you a glass of water and puts it on the coffee table beside you for when you wake up. Afterwards, he joins the others in the kitchen, also anxiously waiting. Around five minutes after arriving at Steve’s, the four of them hear grumbling. They look over to see you stretching and when you opened your eyes, you looked very confused. Everyone quickly came into Steve’s living room and as you were sitting up, you asked, “What- What happened? Why am- Why am I at Steve’s?” Nancy sat beside you and said, “You were having a panic attack when Robin and I found you. Around a minute later, you passed out and you’ve been out for probably 30 minutes now. I called Steve and he picked you up, while Robin stayed with you in the backseat. Eddie and I followed them here, since we both wanted to be here when you woke up. Are you okay?” Immediately everything started coming back to you and you said, “You guys didn’t have to do all that for me. I’m fine.” Nancy put her hand on your knee and said, “(Y/N), we care about you and we want to help you.” Eddie sits on the other side of you and when you look into his eyes, you immediately feel a rush of guilt. His normal sweet eyes, now look like a sad puppy and you know it’s because of you. You immediately break eye contact with him and mumble an, “I’m sorry.” Eddie wraps his arm around you and that’s all it takes before you turn your head into his chest, then break down. He puts his other arm around you and wraps you in a tight embrace, while Nancy lightly scratches your back. Steve sits down beside Eddie and Robin sits beside Nancy, all four of them watching you break down and sob. Eddie and Nancy have been whispering sweet things to you, trying their best to calm you down. After a while, you stop crying and you move back to your original position, then look at everyone. You look at Eddie first and say, “I’m sorry I broke down in your arms, Eds. I don’t kn-” He interrupts you and says, “Don’t apologize for that. That’s what I’m here for. No no, that’s what we’re all here for. (Y/N), we care about you and we’d do anything for you, anything.” Steve chimes in and says, “I don’t care what I’m doing, I would drop anything if you needed me. We care about you so much, (Y/N).” Robin nods her head and says, “Really we do. You mean a lot to me (Y/N). You mean a lot to us.” You nod your head and Nancy says in the sweetest voice imaginable, multiplied by 1000, “Can you tell us what’s wrong, please?” You reply, “Y- Yeah. I’m just a little ner- nervous.” Nancy nods and says, “Take your time, there’s no rush.” You nod and take a deep breath, then notice the glass of water in front of you. You grab the glass and chug it like you’ve never had water before, then Steve takes the empty glass from you. As he gets up to go refill it, you take deep breaths until he comes back.

Steve returns with a full glass of water and places it on the coffee table before sitting back down again. You take a deep and say, “Okay. So um- I didn’t tell any of you, but my parents- they’re uh- out of town. They left me home alone and I hate being alone. I would’ve asked one of you to stay with me, but I didn’t want to um- b- bother you guys. I know school and work has to be stressful, so I didn’t want to bur-” and Robin interrupts you. Her voice is a little shaky as she says, “(Y/N), no. Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You never bother us, ever and asking for help when you need it, is okay. That’s what we’re here for. You’re not a burden and you never will be.” A few tears rolls down her face and you say, “Th- Thank you, Robs.” She nods and you continue, “So, I haven’t been slee- sleeping and that’s even if I’ve had time to. I’ve had so many tests this week, I have one tomorrow I need to study for and I have a project on Friday I’m nowhere near done with. I had my chemistry test today and I-” You pause and inhale shakily.

Steve refills the glass and puts it back on the coffee table. Once he’s sat back down, you say, “Okay. So I’ve been really stressed this week. I didn’t uh- I didn’t tell any of you, but my family went on vacation and left me home alone. I really hate being- being alone, but I didn’t want to b- bother you guys. I know- I know you’ve all been str- stressed too, so I didn’t want to add- add onto it. I haven’t been slee- sleeping well and that’s if I’ve even had time to. I’ve had a test every- every day this week and my chemistry test today, I-” You pause and take a deep breath. Eddie puts his hand on your leg and says, “It’s okay. We’re here.” Nancy gently grabs your hand and rubs her thumb across your knuckles. You take another deep breath before continuing, “My chemistry test, I- I didn’t f- f- finish it. I had two questions left and I ran- I ran out of time. It made me feel like I’m a f- f-” and a few tears fall. Nancy gently wipes them away and squeezes your hand. Then, she says, “It’s okay, (Y/N). Breath for me. Take your time.” You take a deep breath and say, “It made me feel like a f- failure and like I’m pa- pathetic. My parents used to- they used to scream it at me when I was a kid if I didn’t get good grades. I was having um- flashbacks when Nancy and Robin found me. But um- tomorrow I have another test and Friday I have a project due that I’m nowhere near done with. I’m just- I’m so overwhelmed and I don’t- I don’t know what to do.” Everyone can tell that you’re starting to get really anxious again, so before you can even start to spiral, everyone finds a way to ground you. Nancy continues holding your hand and rubbing her thumb across your knuckles. Eddie puts his arm back around you and when he does, Steve notices a lighter in his pocket. He steals it out of Eddie’s pocket and lights the scented candle on the coffee table. Last but not least, Robin moves to sit on the floor in front of you, then starts tracing different shapes and patterns on different areas of your legs. Once they’ve noticed you’re more grounded, Steve says, “(Y/N), you know you’re never bothering us if you ask for help, never. I would stay at your house for a whole month if you needed me to. I truly don’t mind.” You watch as everyone else nods their heads and you say, “I just- I didn’t- I didn’t want to be a bur- burden.” Robin says, “(Y/N), no. Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. You aren’t and you’ll never be a burden to me or to any of us. Never never think that about yourself because it’s simply not true.” Everyone nods in agreement again and you say, “But with-” and Eddie interrupts you. He says, “No buts, you are not a burden and you’re not an inconvenience to any of our lives. We want to help you and be there for you, so something like what happened today, doesn’t happen again. You’re not alone, (Y/N). Your battles are our battles too, okay?” You start to tear up again and you mumble, “O- Okay.” Eddie wraps both his arms around you, this time in an awkward side hug. He squeezes you tight before letting his other arm fall back by his side again.

You have a smile on your face, feeling so loved and appreciated by everyone around you. Nancy says, “(Y/N), please don’t let what your parents have said to you in the past get to you. You’re so smart, you’re not a failure and definitely not pathetic. Please please know that.” Your eyes soften and you say, “Thank you guys, that’s all really sweet.” Everyone smiles and Eddie says, “(Y/N), I know you don’t want to be alone tonight and I’d be happy to stay with you, if you want” and Steve says, “You’re also more than welcome to crash here if you don’t want to go home.” You reply, “Thank you both. I do want to go home though cause I have to study and work on my project.” Steve nods, then Nancy chimes in and says, “(Y/N), I can help you study tonight if you want.” Your eyes widen and she giggles, then says, “Not how I normally study, you’ve been through enough today. We’ll just make flashcards based off your notes and I’ll quiz you.” Robin says, “And while you guys are studying, I can help you with your project. You’ll just need to explain it to me and stuff, but I’m sure I can help.” You say, “You guys really don’t have to, I’ll be okay. Really, I will.” Robin replies, “We know we don’t have to, we want to.” You smile and say, “Thank you guys, I don’t know what I’d do without you. How about everyone comes over and we can all have a sleepover?” You look over at Eddie and Steve, then say, “I do have to study though, which, as we’re all aware, is not your guys’ strong suits.” Both boys hold a hand to their chest, acting offended. Steve says, “(Y/N), I’m hurt!” with a pout on his face, forcing it not to break into a smile. You giggle and Eddie says, “Me too!” Everyone starts laughing and you say, “I’m sorry, geeeeez” while giggling. You continue on and say, “Everyone can come, let’s just relax here for a little bit first.” Everyone nods and Nancy says, “Thank you for trusting us and telling us everything. We love and care about you.” She squeezes your hand and you smile, then reply, “I love and appreciate you guys more than you’ll ever know. Thank you for everything.” As you sit there, with the four of them surrounding you, you realize that there’s no place you’d rather be. The four of them make you feel more loved then anyone ever has in your entire life. Your smile grows wider as you finally feel what it’s like to be 100% loved and appreciated by not only one person, but four.

I hope you liked this!!🥺💖

[waytoobsessed]

So uhhh welcome back to Little Brother Leo au! :D

I still don’t know what im doing.

First/Prev

Warnings: Injury, pain, I feel like there should be another tw but I cant remember it. No proofreading✨

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Wake him up!! We gotta get him awake!” Mikey yelped, hands going to Leos shoulders, about to shake him before Donnie slapped Mikeys hands away, wiping his tears.

“We have do to it gently, we cant risk making it worse.”

“Wake up Leo!! Wake up!!”

They couldn’t lose him after just saving him, no, they wouldn’t lose him. Donnie gently slapped Leos cheek, trying to wake up him or get a reaction… and Leos face wrinkled, turning away from him with a small grumpy noise that Donnie had missed so much.

“nooo… I don… wannaaa”

Any attempts to stop tears proved to be futile, they’d all missed him, missed his voice, his jokes, all of it… so much.

“You gotta okay? Donnie we have to get him to the med bay.”

“Right, med bay right right, brace yourself Leo, this is gonna hurt.”

Donnie wiped his tears away, although they were immediately replaces by more as he slid his arms underneath Leo and lifting, earning a scream of pain, and choked sobs from Mikey as they bolted down the hallway, heading for the med bay as fast as possible.

They placed him down and everything whirled into motion, Mikey texting everyone, Donnie grabbing bandages, disinfectant, needles, and thread, Raph keeping Leo awake.

It was overwhelming for Leo, watching all of them bolt around, and then it clicked, something was definitely off about them… were they bigger? And their voices had changed… he thinks? Leo wasn’t really sure.

“Buddy, you gotta stay awake, Leo focus on me”

“…wheeen… when’d… you guyys get…. Biggeerr..?”

“…its… its been a lo—long time since…. Since you’ve seen us buddy…”

Raphs voice was choked by sobs that he kept trying to press down, Leo’s eyes dazedly meeting Raphs, placing an arm on him with a wince. Leo’s hand looked smaller then before… had Leo shrunk or did Raph actually get bigger. How long had it been? It’d only been a few minutes… he thinks, although time did feel painstakingly slow while he was in there… but for them it had genuinely been slow. Much slower then the hours his minutes had felt like.

Pain stabbed him out of his thoughts, it was Donnie. Donnie treating his injuries with laser focus.

The room would’ve been silent if it weren’t for the muffled sobs as all of them stared at Leo… or more correctly Raph and Mikey stared at Leo while Donnie patched him up. Donnie started talking and then Mikey moved away, coming back with something in his hands that looked familiar, but everything was blurring up. Leos eyes fought to keep open, leading to Raph gently slapping Leos cheek again, trying to keep him awake. More talking, and movement. Pain. Oh what such a fond feeling /sarc

Leo screamed again, pain slamming into him as they lifting him up, he wasn’t sure what they were doing at this point, but Mikey was talking or yelling or something. It was all just a blur at this point, flurrys of pain slamming into him, Mikey trying to keep him awake, while Raph, and Donnie tried treating him. Soon enough, he couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer, no matter how hard Mikey tried.

…

Leo shifted, his whole body ached, and his head felt like it was trying to kill him from how bad it was throbbing. Apparently he had made a noise when he shifted because when he opened his eyes, he was met with three faces staring at him.

“Leo…?”

“LEO!!!”

Raph had to stop Mikey, grabbing on to him to stop him from jumping on the smaller red eared slider… and now it was apparently, watching the two wrestle in attempts to calm the very excited Mikey, the size, they had grown a lot in 10? 15? 20? However many minutes, or technically longer for them.

Leo wondered how he’d look next to them, probably small, how tall were they? How long had it been?

Unlike Raph, and Mikey, Donnie was still watching him, a hand resting on Leos arm, eyes locked on to him.

“hh…how long…?”

Quickly the sounds of wrestling stopped, replaced by Mikey being placed down and Raph shuffling over back into place, all attention on him for a few minutes as they glanced at each other.

“6 years…”

“…2372 days, 15 hours, and 27 minutes…”

“…damn clearly sss…somethings never change… rrrright?…”

“Wha?”

“Dddonnie… donniee and his cccounting… im tryinggg to be… funny guys okayyy…”

Donnie huffed, rolling his eyes as his grip tightened a little on Leos arm, making Leo wince, while Mikey rested his head as close as it could get to Leo without touching him, and Raph chuckled, placing a hand on Leo.

“Somethings never change…”

“…hhow… old..?”

“…Raphs 23, Donnies 22, Mikeys 21”

First/Prev/Next

:D

Also if the day count is incorrect no it isnt you don’t see that.

[mouseratz]

I truly truly hate how initially some online communities were presented and did feel like a place to see people struggling in the same ways you were and feel less inhuman or othered for it, and how it's evolved into an obsession with diagnoses and proving on a list every single thing you have "wrong" with you and proving just how quirky and relatable you are because of it.

it can still be that first thing, but the second thing encroaches in on it. you can't just see what you're going through as an Experience, it needs to be sorted into traits and symptoms of something.

and I don't say this as someone who thinks psychology isn't real or people don't have these things- that's not what I'm saying. no, my point is, really:

A. this is the result of an attempt to sanitize and make mental illness more marketable- that whole idea of, this is what's holding you back, you'd be normal without this, this is why you're failing at capitalism! let's sell you things for your anxiety and depression and ADHD! go get em girlboss!

B. this other part, people don't do from ill intent, but it has resulted in people focusing a lot more on what the Name of whatever mental illness they have is and ensuring it's real and Verified, as opposed to focusing on how to make your day by day life a little easier. like that's the point of even seeing a therapist in my personal opinion. (And, yes, there are absolutely shit therapists and a million fucking problems in the system, but that's a different discussion.)

it doesn't mean you aren't mentally ill, it just means focusing on what you can do instead of What You Are, your identity. (Which I'm also not saying is totally unimportant.)

i just feel somehow the discussion on mental health and healthcare seems to start and end with diagnoses and prescriptions. People say go to therapy as an online insult and then when you do, nobody knows what to even expect, or what the purpose is.

it's strange, you're essentially asking yourself over and over, what is the work you have to put in to try to make your life more liveable? it's daunting. it's overwhelming at times. and I think that's the part that making it all relatable and funny and clean and cut and dry leaves out entirely, how messy recovering from or learning to live with it better can be.

and in general, in both therapy and beyond, some of the most human parts of any of these experiences are being sanded out, erased, because they're too "ugly" to make into either a palatable shareable meme or a marketable product. it's all work in cutting out the parts of mental illness others can't consume.

you need to become a clean, crisp line, something easy to see, marked by a defined identity. sort and group yourself nicely. sort and group your day by day experience nicely, orderly, tell me which personality trait came from what mental illness today, make a spreadsheet picking apart your own goddamn skull. you're not a person. you're made of your own suffering. a patchwork of cutouts from the fucking dsm, that's what you have to remind yourself of, that you have that broken head, and it's in everything you do, and you'll never escape it. you can't live with it, because it is you, it is your start and your end. if you got any better, well, you just wouldn't be you anymore.

this is not my most eloquently worded post. but also this is Tumblr dot com and I am just tired and frustrated. I'd appreciate it if you didn't send me hate mail about it.

[wjforever]

Shatter me again. Chapter 87

Warner's words touch something inside me. He says Adam might would be disappointed in me. That I might not match his expectations. And although this assumption cause in me furious and hate towards Warner, I know that this is only because he found my pressure point. I myself was always afraid that Adam would be disappointed in me. That he would see my true colors and turn away from me. But he proved to me over and over again that he accepts me for who I am. He knows that all my crimes are not my choice. And I know exactly why he joined the army. Because of me. Because of James. I can't let Warner get into my head. I know Adam, but he doesn't.

"He didn't betray you. You can't betray someone whose side you've never been on. You've destroyed this world. You force people to take on dirty work that they hate. Trying to turn everyone into a likeness of yourself. But he's not like you. He is faithful, honest, kind… You're not even worth his little finger."

"Oh yeah. It's not the best place on earth, if there are any left. Isn't this a reason to think about the motives of his deeds? Have you ever thought he could've just took advantage of you, mm?"

"Why would he do that?"

"To escape. To get out of the headquarters. He could've used you as a shield and a sword to get away from the hated me far away. How adroitly he did everything, didn't he?

"He tried to help me! To save me from you!"

"He didn't do all this for you." His face becomes tougher, and his speech is more peremptory. He knows exactly what he's talking about and firmly believes in his rightness. 

"What do you mean?"

"He prepared everything in advance, isn't it obvious? Before he knew I was going to take you to the base. I didn't let him out of the territory for six months. He couldn't get here and prepare everything, wanting to save you. Everything had been ready for a long time: the path through the radiation, the car, escape routes, and even a place where he could hide. There was only one thing missing. Cover. He knew you wouldn't be shot to kill. Kent have used you. He betrays easily. I was sure of his loyalty. You see what it leads to. He lies, and doesn't even feel remorse, fear or doubt. He could lie to you as well."

"It's not true. Adam is the most devoted person I've ever met."

He suddenly explodes. His hands fly up, he really raises his voice for the first time… 

"Lord, how can you not feel that he doesn't care about you?! Don't you notice it yourself?!"

I remember his little lesson. He's hardly afraid… He's trying to convey something to me. He's trying to reach out to me. He's trying to make me believe the truth. His truth. The truth that has nothing to do with reality. He's absolutely convinced of what he's saying, he really believes it. He lives in his own fictional world, where he has an absolute right to the truth. He's just a madman. And nothing else.

"You judge everyone by your own standards. You lie, kill, and do evil. But you don't know anything about Adam. Because you don't know anything about kindness. You live, reveling in your imagined greatness, believing that everyone agrees with your actions. You have a black soul, and you have no idea what's going on under your nose."

"This doesn't detract from the facts, Juliette. My sins don't make him any better."

He's like a contrast shower, freezing cold then burning hot. Now there are icy notes in his voice once again, he turns into a marble cold statue again. And this is a cruel game with my nerves. I myself get set on fire, then cool down next to him.

At this moment I'm overwhelmed with a feeling of solemnity, pride, loftiness, righteous nobility. Because I can throw the truth at him. I can trample on all his insinuations, break his slander, destroy all his attempts to blacken Adam's honest name.  

I answer him with the same dignity, with the same proudly raised head and erect posture as he does.

"I knew it. I knew he wanted to run away. And I'm grateful to him for allowing me to join him and become part of this plan. We did it all together, we both knew what we're getting into. We were just waiting for an opportunity to escape and never run into you again. And if it hadn't happened then, it would have happened later. But it would have happened anyway. Because it's better to die than to stay by your side."

There is no disappointment in his face at his failed attempt to turn me against Adam, nor anger. There is some awareness, and I don't understand this reaction of his.

He suddenly starts walking towards me again. Step. Step. Step. He's looking at me as if he sees me for the first time, with interest and, definitely, a slight disillusionment.

"So what," he says as he strides towards me. His eyelids are twitching slightly in tension, and his lips are tighten in a contemptuous, barely noticeable crooked smile, "this is all just a good bargain for both of you? His plan to retreat, your immunity. You're ready to be with him just because it's convenient, right?" He shakes his head slightly. "I didn't think you had it in you. That feelings matter so little to you. That to get closer to someone you only need help in escaping and his desire and ability to touch you with impunity. A very pragmatic approach, I can tell you."

I cringe at how disgusting it sounds. And I have to convince myself again and again that all this is not true, that he knows nothing, that he puts his thoughts and feelings into other people's heads and believes in this himself.

But the worst thing is that it's not as far from the verity as I would like. There is some truth in his words. Adam had promised me this opportunity of escape from the very beginning and I allowed myself to dream about it. And he had prepared everything for a long time, he just didn't have a chance to run away. And although I know that he had joined the army because of me, when he was preparing to escape, he wasn't sure that he would be able to find me. And I never wanted Adam to touch me. When this happened, I didn't always enjoy his caresses, his touches, his kisses. They weren't always desirable. Sometimes I just had to endure it so as not to offend him. So that he doesn't turn away from me. Can this be considered my payment for his loyalty and devotion? I shouldn't think that way. I shouldn't think that way. I shouldn't…

Warner seems to sense this doubt of mine, because his anger flares up like a fire fueled by oxygen.   "Or maybe you really like it?" He continues. "Maybe you are satisfied with such an attitude towards you? When they don't waste their manners on you. When they don't wait for your permission and don't pay attention to your opinion. After all, he definitely touched you the first time not by your will. It always scares you very much, and you would never agree to this voluntarily."

"It was an accident!" I say loudly, trying to keep my sanity. "It happened by accident when your people were beating us. They beat me!"

He snorts, getting even closer. Frustrated, calm and angry. "Maybe. But then… You should' ve felt this. I don't believe you didn't. You should' ve felt his indifference. You have little experience, but you are not so naive and not stupid at all. So is this what you want? An insensitive military machine, who, if find anything attractive about you, so it's your body and the opportunities that your privileged position brings. Is that what you need?"

Warner at a distance of single step from me, and suddenly I realize that I have nowhere to retreat. He cornered me. Again. But this time there is no one to come and help me.

I'm not arguing with him. I don't even try. It's useless. He won't hear it anyway. He'll never understand anyway.

He's too close for me to feel comfortable to be audacious or bold.

And when he's so near, it's especially noticeable how we contrast with each other. We're from different worlds. We're opposites. He's, as always, perfect, brilliant, in his severe military uniform, fresh and crisp. Confident and ruthless. And I. With dirty messy hair pulled back into a ponytail with the string I found. Filthy and wounded. In Adam's huge T-shirt, James's short and wide sweatpants and the low heel pumps I've worn since the HQ. Scared and helpless.

"Maybe you like it when they take without asking? When they take what they want?" His hand rises and already habitually brushes a strand of hair out of my face, but this time he deliberately touches my skin. Because he can. My entire body stiffens, I barely breathing. His touch is much more gentle than his voice, than his eyes. "Maybe I've been wrong in trying to gain your trust all this time? Maybe I've been too cautious, too delicate? Turns out that's not what you needed."

These words, these touches set something on fire inside me. My moods change just like his, but that's the last thing on my mind right now.

"Delicate?" I spit out. "You were cruel to me! I was your prisoner!"

He continues as if he didn't hear me.

"I tried so hard for you, I've done so much. But it turns out you are attracted to something completely different."

Warner is unacceptably close, and I put both hands on his chest and shove him slightly, trying to push him away from me. I don't think my strength is enough, but he still takes one small step back.

"You didn't do anything for me. You only did this for yourself. Pathetic, selfish psychopath!"

He suddenly laughs with some kind of quiet, insane laugh, then smirks.

"Really? You think it was easy to keep you safe all this time, mm? To cover up all your whims and antics? You think it was easy to take you out of the asylum? Have you ever thought what it's for others to try to indulge your every desire? You can't even imagine how much effort it took to delay the demonstration of your power or turn off the cameras in your room. You can't even imagine how many tricks it took to pull this off. But it's of little value to you, isn't it?" Resentment is evident in his voice, permeates him through and through, as if someone forgot to close the window and disappointment freezes all the warmth that could once be seen in those green eyes.

I've never thought about it like this. I've always been sure that he is in charge, which means he decides himself what, how and when to do. And I don't understand why he would lie about it when this only makes him weaker in my eyes, less powerful and important. And, in part, I can even understand his offense. This doesn't mean that I can agree with his beliefs.

"I have no idea what you were doing behind my back and I don't care. If you did it to get something in return, then that's not how it works."

"I so wanted to be someone you trust. I so wanted to help you. What an irony. Now I understand why you didn't need all this." Some kind of madness is manifested in his face, in his eyes, in his facial expressions. He licks his lips, tilts his head, studying my face. He's not normal. He's crazy. His hand takes my wrist, lifts my hand between us. He acts decisively, but his grip is gentle, tender and an electric current runs through my entire body. "He just wanted and took what he needed. And you immediately became his? Is that what you like? When they treat you like this?"

My tongue is swollen, cleaved to the roof of my mouth, stuck somewhere in my throat. I can't breathe in or out. And he… it seems to me that he's almost furious, and I don't know what makes him so angry.

"Or you think his touch is absolutely selfless? Alms for the needy."

I abruptly jerk my hand out of his palm.

"Never… Adam never did anything I didn't want him to do myself. He always did only what I allowed him to do."

His eyes literally flash. Wild. He approaches me again, dangerously close.

"And I'm the one you call selfish? It's always just about your desires, isn't it? The whole world should be at the feet of Juliette Ferrars, and everyone should revolve only around you. Servants in the service of the Queen…"

"It's not like that…" I squeeze out strangled, barely holding back tears of resentment.

"No? Didn't you just say that Kent risked his life to save you? You love to keep everything under control so much. You like to feel your power over people. You enjoy it when they obey you, when they run after you. You like to act up and see how others are trying to fulfill all your wishes. And you wanted it."

He's so cruel. His words are cutting me like a razor, slash my face, my hands, and I'm bleeding with shame. Because he's right. I understand that myself. He's damn right, and I hate him for it. I knew Adam would want to help me, and I convinced him again and again that we needed to try. He wouldn't have done it without me. And Kenji wouldn't have put himself in danger. And James wouldn't have been through hell. Warner doesn't know about them, maybe. But I know. I know they all suffered because of me.

They suffered because of Warner. We were all fleeing from him. Adam planned to run away from him in the first place, not with me.

And I'm eager to fight. I raise my hand, sharply, quickly, trying to hit him. But he reacts instantly, catches my hand by the wrist again and lowers it down, pins it to my side. Then he grabs the second one and does the same. I feel naked in front of him. I no longer have anything with which I could protect myself from him, how I could fight him. I'm completely defenseless.

His face is so close to mine, tense, frightening me to the bone. But I'm not going to give up, no matter what. Even though there is almost no strength left in me, I'm trying to kick him, trying to break free. He tightens his grip on my hands and presses me against the wall with his body, preventing me from moving.

"Stop twitching," he says menacingly, leaning towards me. "You know, it's even better this way. I don't mind it at all. I even like it. You're a bad girl, love. It makes us almost perfect for each other, doesn't it?" His voice becomes almost whisper, even more dangerous. "I'm ready to continue to indulge all your desires. I'm fine with it. Is that what you want? Tell me."

I have nothing to say to him. Nothing to answer. I want to feel calm and confident again, but I can't. And I'm trying to grab onto the elusive remnants of these almost forgotten emotions.

"You're not human… You're crazy… You're a psychopath… I despise you..." My voice is so weak, broken, almost inaudible.

"I am. Always has been. And yet, Adam is not the only one whose touches you wanted." He's breathing so heavily, and his bird of prey eyes are blazing with burning sparks. "You wanted to kiss me three days ago, didn't you?"

My head starts to spin violently and the floor disappears under my feet. I feel like I don't fall only because he's holding me in place. He uses a forbidden weapon. He speaks almost bitterly, as if I betrayed him. Waiting for my answer. And I turn away, unable to look him in the eye.

"Tell me that's not true. Tell me it was all just my imagination."

I can't lie to him. I don't know why, but I just can't. I could tell him I was just trying to harm him. But I can't. 

Because this wicked truth presses me to the ground with a heavy slab, destroying my dignity, and my honor, and my nobility. How can I act like I'm better than him when I'm keeping such a shameful truth? Yes, of course it was before he forced me to torture the child, and before he arranged a safari, hunting me and everyone else. Before they wounded, or even killed Adam. Does it really matter? I wanted it. A familiar confusion begins in my head. And I suddenly remember those feelings, those emotions, those desires. I shouldn't, but I do.

I'm afraid he'll grab my face and make me look at him. And he shouldn't do it, because I'm losing touch with reality. But instead, he leans closer, almost touching my cheek with his nose.

"That's what you wanted," he says quietly. "You wanted this. So maybe I should fulfill this wish of yours as well?"

I don't know how to breathe anymore. He's too close, and I take the air in fitfully gulps. I want to push him away from me, but I realize that I don't have enough strength. I'm scared of what he might do after my failed attempt. He won't show me mercy. And I won't be able to escape from the trap of his body.

I'm so afraid that he'll carry out his threat. That he'll take what he wants by force. I'm shaking uncontrollably. And my legs begin to wobble. I know he'll do it right now. I know he can do whatever he pleases to me and there's nothing I can do about it. Because I'm his. Because I'm in his exclusive power.

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[iwritefandomimagines]

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.”

masterlist

→ pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

→ description: if someone had told you that steve harrington would be stood in front of you telling you that he’d read every page of your beloved favourite novel, you’d have told them to go fuck themselves. and yet here he was telling you exactly that, once again proving just how much he adored you.

→ warnings: pure fluff honestly, ur a janeite so the novel is pride and prejudice, a little cursing because it wouldn’t be my writing without lmao

“I read it.”

You looked up at your boyfriend in confusion, butterflies filling your stomach at the sight of the bright grin on his face.

“You what?”

He reached into his rucksack that he’d carelessly dumped on your desk as he looked down at you sat on your bed, smiling up at him curiously.

“I read it,” he pulled out your well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice with a cheeky smile, “I read Pride and Prejudice.”

You were dumbstruck.

Surely he was joking.

When you’d given him your favourite novel and told him he should read it, never in a million years did you think that he would.

You expected to have it returned to you after a matter of days, with him telling you that he simply couldn’t get into it or reminding you that he wasn’t a reader.

It was a sort of self-indulgent gesture, giving the book to him.

You’d come to the terrifying realisation that you were completely and utterly in love with him — and what better way to subtly tell him this than lending him the very book that had made you believe in love.

You’d been dating for almost six months and, though you’d never expected to find yourself falling for Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, here you were having fallen deeply in love with the boy.

Truth be told, you had forgotten about giving it to him at all.

“I don’t believe you,” you giggled, taking the copy from him and flicking through the pages as you looked up at him with a teasing smile.

“Well, at first I wasn’t gonna,” he shrugged, “It’s not exactly my thing, is it? But then Dustin was talking about it being like, totally romantic or something, so I thought I’d give it a try. And I… enjoyed it?”

“Now that I really don’t believe!”

He shook his head, sitting down beside you on the edge of the bed and leaning in closer to you as he explained himself.

“No, like, the whole enemies-to-lovers, we hate each other but we don’t, longing stares thing reminded me of us,” he looked almost nervous for a moment as he confessed this, and you felt your heart swell so much you thought your rib cage might burst, “Which is totally dorky but—,”

“No, I always think that too.”

You did — when you and Steve had met, you thought he was an asshole. Besides flirting a little and the occasional lingering touch, you’d acted like you hated each other.

Until one drunken night he’d told you that he thought you were beautiful, though infuriating, and now here you were months later adoringly staring into his eyes.

“And I ended up finishing it, I guess,” he bore his teeth now, smiling proudly at the fact he’d read the whole book when he knew you wouldn’t have expected it, “I started out reading it for you and ended up finishing it because it was actually good.”

“I’ve always told you it’s the best book ever written,” you bit your lip, “I can’t believe you’d even attempt reading it for me, Steve. You’re the cutest. Literally the cutest.”

Steve gulped, taking your hands in his and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hands.

“Y/N… I’d do anything for you, you know that,” his eyes flickered away from yours for the briefest of seconds as he contemplated his next words, before he pressed a light kiss to the corner of your lips, “I’ve fallen in love with you, pretty girl.”

This in particular sent you spinning, remembering the words he’d told you when he asked you out, “I want you to be mine, pretty girl.”

You drew in a breath, surprised and overwhelmed by the fact that he was really telling you he loved you when that was all that you wanted to hear him say.

“In fact,” he coughed exaggeratively, “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” he blushed crimson as he quoted Mr Darcy, “Did I get that right? I was—,”

You cut him off by swivelling to climb onto his lap, hands on either side of his face and your lips firmly against his to shut his pretty mouth up.

He kissed back immediately, reaching awkwardly back and placing your book on the desk out of the way as he shuffled back on the bed with you atop him.

Here he was, the former king of Hawkins High, proclaiming his love to you with Mr Darcy’s proclamation of love from Pride and fucking Prejudice!

“I love you too, Steve,” you panted as you pulled away for a moment, “More than fucking anything. More than that book, even,” you giggled, fluttering your lashes as he looked at you like you put all of the stars in the sky, “Have you been practising that quote, babe? You got it perfect…”

He blushed pink again, and you could honestly get used to seeing this side of him.

“Well, a little bit…” he admitted, his grip on your waist tightening, “I thought it would be cute but now I feel kinda embarrassed. But you love me back? You mean it? Not just because I quoted your book and said all that?”

You gently slapped his chest and kissed him again, “I mean it, Steve. I love you. Just even more because you quoted my book.”

He laughed, his confident smirk returning to his face as he tugged you close to him and peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

“Steve!”

“You’re perfect, you know that right?”

“Well I must be if I managed to get the great Steve Harrington to read the greatest romance novel of all time,” you teased.

Your fingers carded through his hair as you stared admiringly at him, your heart racing as you looked so intensely into the eyes of the boy you’d fallen head over heels for.

He scoffed, “What can I say? I’m a romantic kind of guy.”

“You are… My own Mr. Darcy, hey?”

“My own Elizabeth Bennet,” he replied smugly, enjoying that he actually knew what you were talking about now.

“I can’t believe you read it,” you giggled giddily, still overwhelmed by the notion, “I don’t even think you realise how much of a grand gesture that is to me.”

His thumbs ran along your hipbones softly as he brought his nose and forehead to yours, “I do, believe me baby, I do. I love you, Y/N. I wanted to do something to really show you that. I surprised even myself by actually reading it.”

“I’m just— God, I’m so lucky,” you gushed, pushing him down by his shoulders so that you were hovering above him now, “So fucking lucky.”

He smirked, tongue running along his bottom lip before he leaned up to capture your lips again with his.

“Believe me, pretty girl… I’m the lucky one.”

—————

this was so fuckin self indulgent as a massive pride and prejudice fan and a steve girly so i hope some of you at least will love this like i loved writing it !!! i just think steve would do this lowkey to impress and make the girl he loves happy so here it is !!!!!

feel free to send requests in (especially for steve, eddie or jonathan), and for now here is my masterlist! thanks again for reading <3

[captains-simp]

Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic. 

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften. 

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow. 

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too. 

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder. 

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond. 

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already. 

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won. 

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression. 

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers. 

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out. 

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike. 

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home. 

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare. 

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

*

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands. 

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own. 

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?” 

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room. 

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone. 

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare. 

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed. 

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up. 

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both. 

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy. 

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat. 

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered. 

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you. 

“I don’t.”

*

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly. 

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.” 

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too. 

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up. 

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time. 

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done. 

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

*

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in. 

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out. 

*

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head. 

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[hpimaginesandblurbs]

wait draco fucking his arranged marriage wife on a couch after she admitted to still seeing her ex (not knowing he has feelings for her obviously) and he’s like oh? can he fuck you like this tho?

pairing: draco malfoy x reader 

warning(s): 18+, adultery, arranged marriage, slight degradation

word count: 3.0k 

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long but it ran away from me as i started writing. this is the longest thing i’ve written on tumblr so far and i hope you all enjoy it! one of my own person favorites. 

Another day felt like another day wasted in the walls in the stuffy Manor you called home. Except it wasn’t home. And it wasn’t another day. 

No. After weeks of trying to get your husband to open up to you, you had had enough. It was an arranged marriage, and although you were no fool and had no pretenses of pretending to love him, you’d at least like to get to know the person you called your husband. 

Back in school you had always thought the infamous Draco Malfoy was rather handsome, anyone would be a fool to deny it. He was confident and popular, great at Quidditch, and seemed like the perfect gentleman - everything you could want in a husband. Turns out it was the opposite. All the feelings you thought you might develop for him were unrequited, and he ignored you at every turn. 

So you took it into your own hands to get what you were so desperately craving: physical affection. It didn’t take much, truly. All you did was send an owl to your ex boyfriend from your school days and one thing led to another until you were in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and rocked to your core with pleasure. 

But now you were back in your ‘home’, wasting away within the walls of the Manor with your husband nowhere to be found. 

It wasn’t until hours later, when you were getting ready to push yourself up from the couch to head to bed, did the fireplace flash green, signaling his arrival home. 

“Hello. How was your day?” You asked politely, hoping just this once he might fall into a normal conversation with you. 

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not even bothering to look at you as he emptied his pockets and put down his very important briefcase that was a mystery to you. 

A blaze of frustration ran through your body, desperate to get more out of this man than just one word. A crazy thought came into your head, to tell him about your day, but you pushed it aside. No, Malfoy’s wouldn’t think highly of a girl who committed adultery within weeks of marriage. But…

“My day was great,” you told him, rather impulsively. 

At first he seemed shocked that you even said anything, the conversation usually reached its end by now. But he recovered quickly, politely asking “And what was so great about your day?” 

Naturally, you could lie. Tell him you met up with your female friends for lunch. Tell him you read a good book. Tell him anything but the truth. But… 

“I reacquainted myself with my ex boyfriend from school,” you told him, daring to look him in the eye as you spoke. 

“Reacquainted? How?” He asked, a series of emotions flashing over his face that you had never seen before. It sent a thrill through you to see him showing any emotions at all. 

Again, you could lie. Tell him you met him for lunch. Tell him that you ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Tell him anything but the truth. But… 

You knew even if the truth did come out, he would have to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t dare be seen as a spineless cuckold as his wife went around sleeping with whomever she pleased. 

“I owled him a few days ago, asking to meet him,” you began, watching as his face contorted into something akin to anger. “I went to his home, for lunch, and it didn’t end with lunch.” 

You left the end of your short story rather ambiguous, wanting to see what he’d do with the information you presented him. He had barely moved from his place by the fireplace, but the look he was giving you could set you up in flames if he wanted it to. 

“So, what? You fucked him?” He asked, the politeness in his voice giving way to the anger he was feeling. 

In a sick way, it pleased you to see him angry. Gave you a sense of pride that you, the wife he had seen fit to ignore, could get such a rise out of him. 

“Yes, seeing as you haven’t even touched me,” was your spiteful reply, foolishly placing the blame all on him despite your own actions. 

“You stupid, silly little girl,” he said under his breath as he stalked over towards you, menacing in just how much bigger he was than you. “You don’t fucking understand a thing about me, do you?” He asked, hovering over you, his hands braced on the back of the couch that you were still seated on, your faces inches apart. 

“You don’t let me. You never speak to me,” you argued, ready to turn this into a fight filled with low blows if he really wanted it to go that way. 

“You think this is a fucking walk in the park for me? Having some girl I’ve barely met in my house looking terrified of me every time I come near her? Suffering through your daily attempts to talk to me, but knowing how unbearably uncomfortable you are in being here? You think I wanted this? For either of us?” He asked seamlessly, almost in a rush to get all of his thoughts out before he thought better of it. A look of hesitation passed his face for a brief moment before he continued on, more quietly now. “You think I wanted the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off for a single day after fifth year hating being in my presence? Going behind my back to fuck someone else because I’ve held myself back in case she was uncomfortable doing anything more than just acting like my wife?” 

He didn’t meet your eye at first, but when he did you saw the weight of his emotions. He was hurt, by himself and by you. He was jealous of the man you had chosen to spend your day with. He was terrified of your reaction to his words. He was furious he even had to have this conversation, in this way, in this situation. He was relieved he finally got it all out. 

“Wh- What are you saying?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to twist his words to meet your own fantasy of having a loving husband. 

He took a deep breath before he answered, but made no moves to rid himself of his proximity to you. “Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you since the moment we met. But having an arranged marriage, I couldn’t do much more but assume you didn’t share the same feelings as me.” 

“Oh,” was all you could even say back, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. You searched his eyes for the lie, but they held nothing but the raw truth. He must have seen something in your eyes as well, because his tone shifted into something else entirely before he spoke again. 

“Now, Y/N, I think we got off on the wrong foot and I didn’t make my intentions clear with you. I intend to be a good husband, a loving husband. And yet despite my best efforts to be the perfect gentleman so far, you went behind my back to sleep with some other man. And what does that say about you?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours as he spoke. 

You were sure he could hear your heart rate from how close he was, your pulse racing at his words. “I- I don’t know,” you stuttered, willing to let him take this wherever he saw fit. 

“I’m not going to place the blame all on you, because I know I haven’t been perfect. But one might say that you’re a dumb little whore, and I might be inclined to agree. A stupid, little girl trapped in her big, posh Manor. Going out to let any guy fuck her, not even knowing that her husband can fuck her better than anyone else could.” 

“And you could fuck me better than someone I know can?” You asked incredulously, shocked at the words spilling from his mouth. But even if you tried, you couldn’t deny the way he was so sure of himself, so sure he could please you better than any man, aroused you to no end. 

He let out a dark chuckle and looked at you, amused. “Of course I could, darling. That is, if you give me the chance,” he told you in a teasing tone, before pushing himself off of the couch to walk away. 

“Wait,” you started, once again acting on impulse. You might regret your next words, but damn it if you weren’t curious. And he was your husband after all. “Prove it.” 

“Prove it?” He asked, turning on his heel to face you again, a victorious grin written across his face. When you nodded, he only lifted a brow before he continued. “Now? Haven’t you had a long day of, oh how did you put it, ‘getting reacquainted with your ex’?” 

“You talk a big game, Draco. Now I’m asking you to prove it. Scared?” You asked, baiting him. 

In a split second and a flurry of movement later, he had you laying down against the couch, pressed into the expensive fabric, with his weight on top of you, pinning you down.  

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out of this. Tell me now, otherwise I’m going to fuck you through this couch,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly fed up with your antics. 

Without even thinking, your lips crashed onto his in a heated kiss. Lips you hadn’t felt since your wedding day. You hadn’t even remembered what they felt like until his tongue was darting along your bottom lip, hastily requesting entry. 

As your kiss remained heated, he was expertly shedding you both of your clothing until you were almost bare. He had only left you in your small, lace thong in the aftermath of his destruction. 

His hands traveled your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve and edge of your skin. The moment your bra came off, your breasts were in his hands, easily rolling your nipples until you were gasping for air. He swallowed all your noises greedily, as if you were feeding them to a starved man. 

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his hands resting on the waistband on your underwear, did you have a moment for a coherent thought. 

“One last time, are you sure Y/N?” He asked as if it was painful for him. As if it was the case that you said no, it would be immensely difficult for him to pull himself away. As if it was the case that you said no, he’d die a painful death at your feet. 

“I’m sure,” you said softly, not wanting him to think for a second that you had any hesitant thoughts about this moment. 

As he slowly pulled down your final layer of clothing, it gave you a chance to finally look at him.

And he was beautiful. 

He looked like an ancient Greek statue, perfectly carved and crafted out of marble come to life. His perfectly defined lines, his impossible definition, his muscles in all the right places. Your eyes eventually traveled down to his cock, and your breath hitched when you finally saw how large he was. If you had known this all along, perhaps you wouldn’t have sought out another man for your pleasure. 

He seemed to be taking you in just the same. His eye trailing down your body with such reverence that you felt like an ancient Greek goddess yourself, if only for a moment. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear the words. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, giving him a shy smile when his eyes met yours again. 

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” he told you, still in the soft tone that he had. He gracefully let his body fall back over yours, bracing himself on one forearm while his other hand traveled the length of your body. 

When he caught your lips again, it didn’t hold the same heat as before, but there was something new there. Something good. Something that could only be translated through your lips in that very moment. Something akin to adoration, worship, even love. 

His hand stopped its travels at the apex of your thighs, expertly running his fingers over your clit and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm you were, and you felt his cock twitch against your stomach in anticipation. 

He slowly opened you up for him with his fingers. First with one, then two, even venturing to three before he was content that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He didn’t rush the process, kept a slow, steady, predictable pace as he worked your body. And every time you got close to the edge, he’d gently bring you back down, leaving you a whining, writhing mess by the time he was aligning his cock with you. 

“Draco, please,” you begged shamelessly, more than ready for him. 

“Did you beg for him earlier?” He asked almost nonchalantly, teasing you with the tip of his cock. 

He must have seen the shock on your face, shocked that he would bring it up in this moment, because he only chuckled before pushing inside of you, a gasp easily pulled from your lips at the intense stretch. 

He didn’t fuck you gently, immediately starting with a breakneck pace that left you seeing stars from the first moment he bottomed out. You were easily rewarding him with your moans, letting him know just how good it felt without words. You couldn’t speak even if you tried. 

But he talked. Oh, yes. He ran that pretty mouth of his as if he wasn’t thrusting so deep inside of you the couch was rocking. 

“I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” He asked, right as you were beginning to climb that peak into a pleasurable abyss. 

You gave him a feeble nod in return, not trusting your own mouth to properly respond. 

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, biting the question out through clenched teeth as if he was dreading the answer. “Tell me, Y/N, did he?” He asked, fucking you even harder now in his frustration. 

“No,” you cried out, breaking free of your moans for a second to answer him. “He can’t fuck me like this,” you added, if only to stroke Draco’s ego, but nevertheless it was true. No one could fuck you like this. 

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” Draco said, lowering his head into the crook of your neck to ground himself, trying to fight off his orgasm until you got yours. 

It didn’t take much longer after that. He had worked you up so much beforehand that your orgasm came to you easily and came with such a force you were left breathless in its wake. Your nails carved down Draco’s muscular back, sure to leave delightful scratch marks that you could study later, as you cried out in bliss. 

The moment he felt your walls contract around him, he let himself go with a low groan. The sound was music to your ears, and only intensified the feelings you were experiencing. To have him so close, sharing in the same ecstasy you were, it was like magic. 

When you both came down from your highs, he swiftly rearranged the both of you until you wrapped in his arms, both lying on the couch. It was a strange feeling, being in his arms for the first time like this. If someone had told you this would be happening only a few hours before, you would have laughed in their face. But now here you both were, sweaty and satiated, basking in the bliss of finally consummating your marriage. 

The thought made you giggle, and when he shot you a perplexed look, you couldn’t help but explain. 

“We finally consummated our marriage,” you explained, still giggling. “And don’t worry, by the way, I’m on the potion,” you thought to add, just in case kids weren’t looming in the future for him. 

“Good to know you won’t be birthing any bastard children,” was his sullen response, clearly still hurt by the events of the day. 

You shifted your body until you were looking directly at him, but he made no moves to pull his arms away from you. If anything, he held you tighter when he felt you move, unwilling to give up the moment. 

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did today. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to you. And if I had known even a fraction how you felt about me, I wouldn’t have done it, because I feel the same about you. I was just feeling incredibly stuck in what I thought was a hopeless marriage, and I was lonely, so I sought out someone else. But now I understand that that isn’t the case, and I can promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that it will never happen again,” you told him, putting everything out there for him. 

“You feel the same?” He asked timidly, after a moment of deliberation. There was a look of hope on his face, and never in your wildest dreams would you shut down such a rare display of emotion from him. Then again, you may be expecting more of his emotions from here on out. 

“Yes. I’ve always been attracted to you, and the little bits of you that I do know, I like. I want this to work, Draco. I want this to be a real marriage. All I wanted was a shot.” you said, just praying he wanted the same. 

“‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t a good husband to you by any means, and I probably unknowingly pushed you into doing what you did. But now that our intentions are out there, I’d like nothing more than to give this a real shot,” he responded, that newly familiar look of hope in his eyes present once more. 

In that moment, you could both feel it. The beginning of something great.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

-

Masterlist

[wearywinchester]

Not Going Anywhere

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When he nearly loses you, Dean finds he can’t stand the thought of that happening.

Requested by Anonymous: “May I please request a one shot of dean and reader with her having an internal bleeding. You know when the character seems fine but then boom they collapse and turns out they're not fine at all?? I LIIIVE for that shit... The shock, the realization, the worry....”

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: angst, injury, bleeding, shock, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, guilt, fluff

You sat slumped in the backseat of the Impala, exhausted from the hunt. Fortunately, it’d been close to the bunker, close enough that you didn’t need a motel room overnight. Close enough that the drive hadn’t been terribly long like most cases were. You felt like you’d been run over by a semi two times over, a certain weakness running through you that left you feeling less than okay.

You watched quietly as the rain came down and trickled against the chilled windows of the car, falling into each other as they raced down the glass before fresh ones took their place in an instant. It was gloomy weather, something you could have found yourself seeking comfort in on any given day, something that otherwise would have been cozy had you not felt the way you did.

But you did, and it wasn’t leaving any time soon.

Dean had the heat cranked up because he could see that you were cold, could tell by the way you wrapped your arms around yourself. The ache and burn in your stomach had yet to subside, Dean having cleaned your wound before setting off to go home earlier that day, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

You were less than comfortable, as far from it as you could be as you sat behind Sam. You missed the way Dean had glanced at you in the rear view more often than not, his concern evident in the crease between his brows, deepening each and every time he looked. He saw your agitation, the way your face contorted in discomfort as you slumped against the seat. You couldn’t sit still even if your life depended on it, constantly moving in your seat despite the way the hurt in your abdomen is screaming at you otherwise.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so restless in your life more than you were in that moment, anxiety settling in heavily the more you sat stuck in that car. There wasn’t anything in particular for you to feel this way over—you’d ridden in this car more times than you could count for years, having sat in the very same spot for far longer than this trip has been before. You’d done it all before without fail, without a problem, but this time was different.

It was different and he knew it.

Any other time you’d start a conversation about any and everything, singing along with him to nearly any song that came on the radio for the sake of getting on Sam’s nerves. Any other time you’d take a nap if you were tired, especially on a day like that where the clouds and rain offered ample comfort to allow you to do so, but this wasn’t any other time. This time you looked like you were two seconds from hopping out at the next red light, and it didn’t sit right with him.

“Sweetheart, you okay back there?” He calls out over his shoulder.

You’re not even sure if the words came out of his mouth, not even sure if you heard him as you shifted your gaze. When he didn’t get a response he looked in his mirror at you, calling out your name once more with more concern than the last.

You sat up a little straighter, glancing at him with eyes squinted slightly in confusion. “‘M fine, De.”

He wasn’t entirely convinced of that, not even a little bit as you blinked, trying to gather yourself a bit more than in that moment as he turned down the road that led to the bunker. You had a habit of saying you’re fine when you’re not, and you’re so clearly the opposite and he finds himself grateful he’s home, you’re home. But that doesn’t soothe the worry boiling over in the pit of his stomach, clouding his mind of anything and everything revolving around you.

Your words were merely words as they fell from your lips, that feeling simmering within you feeling awfully bad as you sit there, as the impala descended down into the bunker’s garage. The fluorescent lights were harsh on your eyes, your wince inevitable as you fought the groan sitting in the back of your throat. Dean didn’t need to be worrying over you, though he surely already was.

You think you just need a rest, a few hours sleeping in your own bed would do you some good. It had to.

You hadn’t fully registered the fact that the car had come to a stop, put in park in its usual spot and it gave Dean enough time to round the back end of it before you tried to get out on your own. When he pulls the door open you’ve got that look, one that tugs at his heart because you look so miserable, so tired and defeated. He crouches down closer to your level as you sit there, watches as you take a deep breath to try and steady the race of your heart. To try and calm the queasy feeling in your stomach.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, eyes on you in search of any indication that you’d been listening. You were, you really were, but you were trying to get a handle on how you felt. “Baby, we’re home.”

You nod then, turning your head to look at him with a soft smile in an attempt to assure him you’d heard him. He stood to his feet and held his hand out, gentle as he helped out of the car. You tried to ignore the rush that came down over you the moment you got up, tried to swallow down the intensifying nausea that’d swirled around in your stomach just begging to come up. You tried your hardest and it was proving to be a challenge.

You were dizzy when you stood to your feet, almost overwhelming, but you were quick to balance yourself and you brushed it off. You’d been in the car for the past two hours, doing nothing but sit in the same position for the majority of that time and you’d yet to eat or drink anything. A little dizziness seemed reasonable upon standing in your mind, not to mention the way your head had been hurting for nearly the same amount of time as the drive home.

You felt his hand slip from yours in favor of wrapping around you to steady you, to help you as you walked but you shrugged him off just as quickly, flashing him a look.

“De, I’m fine. You don’t need to fuss over me,” you say, and the look on his face shows just how much he disagrees with you. You could see it with the dimples forming by the very corners of his mouth and the raise of his eyebrow.

“Y/n—”

“I’m serious. I just need a little sleep and I’ll be fine,” you say, smiling once more in hopes he’d settle down, but you knew he wouldn’t.

It took a few moments, but eventually he dropped his hand to his side reluctantly and eyed you carefully, cautious as he watched you walk ahead into the bunker’s hallway towards your shared room. He knew you better than you thought, better than you knew yourself. He knew you like the back of his hand, but you were just as stubborn as he was and that’s the problem.

You flickered between bouts of nausea and none at all, between feeling fine, like you said you were, and feeling like you’d been drug all the way home tied to the trunk of the Impala. It was something that worsened the more you dwelled on the feeling, something you wished would subside.

You felt a beat of relief upon seeing the golden eleven mounted on that familiar wooden door come into view just down the hall, could smell the faint scent of Dean’s cologne wafting over you as he walked by towards Sam.

You were almost there, then you could lay down for a good long while, tuck yourself into that memory foam bed that was unbelievably comfortable and smelled every bit like Dean, and rest like you’d been longing to do since the moment you left to come home that day. You could rest in the comfort of your shared space for as long as you needed to get better. You were almost there.

But you weren’t.

In that moment, you felt like you were miles away from your destination, you felt like the conversation the two of them were having just a few feet away had been miles away from you, their voices muffled far more than they should be for how close they’d really been to you.

You slowed yourself to a wavering stop for a minute just to gather yourself a little more than you were then and there, reaching out for the wall that was just a little farther than you anticipated it to be. Your ears began to ring slightly, gradually, as that same nausea made its unpleasant return in your stomach, eyes squeezing shut just for a moment. You weren’t aware of just how awful you looked in that moment, but you knew it couldn’t have been too good if it was a reflection of how you were feeling in that very same moment. To be quite honest you felt like you’d just run a marathon with the way you couldn’t catch your breath, with the way your heart had been hammering within your chest at a faster than normal pace.

You felt like a walking, breathing disaster, and sure enough, you looked like it too.

Dean’s brows furrowed when he followed Sam’s gaze, to you, to you who stood there unsure of yourself as a flurry of emotions flashed over your face within a second’s time. A number of emotions, none of anything positive being displayed and it intensified the worries he’d had running through him. A sheen of sweat had glistened over your skin despite the chill that ran through you, your vision doubled as you opened your eyes once more to try and give Dean a glance.

“Y/n?” Your name fell from his lips, soft and hesitant at first as the initial confusion took over, his mouth going dry as he approached you.

“I’m…” you start, nodding your head as you swallow thickly. “I’m fine, Dean. I just…"

Your words were failing you, your ability to form a coherent thought failing you in that moment as you lost all means of balance, teetering on the edge of collapsing before you’d gone and done it. The shout of your name had come off as an echo to you, the impact of the floor having been cold and unforgiving as you fell, too weak to catch yourself.

He hated just how limp you felt in his arms as he knelt beside you, the pain jolting through him from dropping to his knees on the concrete floor having been the very least of his concerns as he watched you. Panic had lanced through him as your head lulled, caught in the crook of his arm as his other hand grabbed your face. Despite the sweat gleaming across your skin, your cheeks were void of any heat that you’d expect to feel and it only added to his upset.

“Y/n!” He called out, your brows furrowing as you felt yourself go from bad to worse, a steady declining feeling blanketing you. “Sweetheart, stay with me.”

His voice was loud, carrying through the winding hall in an echoing display of his fear, the sound taunting him as it bounced off the walls. You nodded weakly, despite the way your heartbeat hammered loudly in your ears enough to muffle what he’d been saying to Sam, or the way you couldn’t hold yourself up if it weren’t for the way he held you. Despite that, you nodded for him.

That ache from the wound you’d walked away from that hunt with was still very much there, that you knew. You knew things didn’t look good for you in that moment, not with the way Dean looked at you as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, or the fear in his eyes when he’d pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, your pulse faint but bounding beneath his fingertips. Things were continuing to go from bad to worse, to far beyond that and you knew that wasn’t a good sign.

You knew it the moment that feeling hit you in the car an hour earlier and the panic you felt was only increasing the more you thought things over.

You should have said something then, you know that now. You should have stopped saying you were fine when you so clearly weren’t, should have stopped doing what you always do and downplay a situation in fear of thinking about the outcome. You should have known better than to think it’d be as easy as Dean patching you up, not after what that spirit did to you. Nothing in hunting is ever as good as it seems, as easy as it seems, and you should have said something earlier.

Because now, now you were quite sure you were facing your fate when you didn’t have time to prepare for it. And that’s what scared you the most. It could have been something trivial, that’s what you’d been longing for it to be, but you knew it was just your own denial telling you that.

“Dean,” you say, taking a breath as you look up at him. The green eyes you loved so much were filled with a kind of emotion you never liked to see. “I—I just want you to know—”

“No, no c’mon. We’re not doing this sweetheart, okay?”

Nausea hit him like a ton of bricks at the sight of the crimson that slowly began to stain your teeth when you coughed, rage bursting through him in waves over the situation he doesn’t know how to control the ending of. Over the fact that he doesn’t think he can control the outcome for the love of his life in his very arms. He knows nothing in this life is guaranteed, not for the life of someone who hunts the world’s worst monsters.

He’s lost so much in his life, but damn does this one hurt.

“I don’t feel so good,” you murmur instead, watching the expressions flicker across his face through half closed eyes as you groan, brows furrowing at the expression he’d been looking at you with. “What is it?”

He couldn’t tell you what he saw, he wouldn’t do it.

“I know you don’t,” he says softly, chuckling despite it being void of humor, running his hand over your head. “I know you don’t but you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”

All you could do was hum and nod, a soft noise you can’t quite tell had left your lips as the weight of your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. You were tired, that much was true. But he tapped your cheek with his hand lightly, grabbing ahold of your face.

“Don’t do that,” he urged, “please, don’t do that.”

He looked to Sam, a mirrored look of panic looking back at him that didn’t do much to soothe his stresses.

He feels near paralyzed when his gaze drops to you again, your eyes closed. He’d grabbed your face and called your name till his throat felt like sandpaper, till it felt like he swallowed a thousand knives he shouted your name. He held you tight in his arms as his mind worried in a frenzy of fear, calling out desperately for the one person that could help.

Cas.

If there was one thing that Dean Winchester knew how to do, it was worry. He’d worry himself to death over the ones he loved, in fact, there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to keep them safe. But worry is what he’d done for the last two and a half hours and nothing else.

If it was possible, one might think he’d wear a hole in the floor from his pacing at the foot of the bed in the bunkers infirmary. Cas had come in a moment’s notice much to Dean’s relief, had swooped in quite literally and healed you the way he hoped you could be.

It turns out that spirit had done more than just graze you, had gone a little deeper than either of you had thought. It turns out you’d been bleeding more than just on the surface, and that it hadn’t actually slowed to a stop once he’d patched you up back there. You were bleeding this whole time, you just didn’t know it until it almost became too late.

It all made sense now, the way you were acting in the car. The restlessness, the agitation and the way you couldn’t sit still. He knew there was something wrong even when you refused to admit it, and he hated it when you did that. Hated it when you kept your pain to yourself when you really didn’t need to, in favor of staving his worry and trying to be independent, and that’s something he knew well.

But that wasn’t the point, the point was you were lying there in that bed almost within an inch of your life had Cas not come. The point was he nearly lost you in his arms and he couldn’t help the blame that sparked and burst within him that maybe he shouldn’t have believed you when you said you were fine. He didn’t, but he felt he should have kept pushing, kept prying to get you to admit it. Thinking that maybe he should have known there was more to that injury by the way your face crinkled up when it happened, by the way you fell to the floor for a moment or two before you stood back on your feet.

He felt like this was on him, and it was tearing him up from the inside out.

Dean ran through a myriad of emotions that night, each one hitting harder than the last. He was scared, the mere thought of losing someone he found himself rapidly not being able to see himself living without having scared him more than he’d care to even admit. He was angry, his fear masked behind clenched jaws and hands running through hair, chairs kicked and chest heaving. Angry at himself for not having gotten to you sooner back there.

It was a never ending cycle of fear and anger and guilt, a cycle he felt he’d always feel in one way or another so long as the ones he loves keep getting hurt when he feels he has the means to prevent it somehow.

For the better part of that two hours, apart from the anxious pacing, he sat at your side as you rested. He was reluctant to leave your side should something happen again. He couldn’t handle that and he knew it. He sat there with his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. He held your hand for a while, thumb absentmindedly brushing over your knuckles as his foot tapped and his knee bounced subconsciously.

For the better part of that two hours, the events of what lead up to that point had replayed in his mind over and over in a taunting loop, having worsened the feeling he held each and every time it restarted. Each time he recalled something more in the way you’d looked in the car, in the way you acted, in the way you felt in his arms.

Cas had to tell him a million times over that you’d be okay. That wound on your stomach had been healed, everything had been healed as though it was never there. He told him a thousand times over that you were stable, you were okay. You were okay, but he couldn’t find it in himself to get over it just yet.

The last time Cas had said it was when he believed it, it was when he couldn’t be in that room another second otherwise he just might crack. He couldn’t bear to see you laying there like that, no matter the fact that you were just fine. It made his stomach churn and twist in knots.

He left, the stack of lore books swept off the table in the library in his wake, a string of curses leaving his lips. He went to your shared room first, the door slamming roughly behind him. He was angry at no one else but himself despite the fact that he shouldn’t be, but he’ll beg to differ on that a thousand times over.

When you woke up, the infirmary was empty. You’d seen the chair at your bedside that hadn’t normally been there. And if it wasn’t telling enough of Dean’s presence, the weight of his jacket splaying warmly overtop of you was sure to make it all the more obvious he’d been there.

You were sore as you sat up, stiff from having been laying in the same position for an amount of time you were sure of. But, when you lifted the hem of your shirt, that burning wound had no longer resided where it’d been. That nausea had since dissolved, that headache had gone away for the most part, and the weakness you felt, the dizziness, it’d all gone away. You knew it was done with the help of no one other than Cas.

You were sure Dean had been there with you for quite some time, but you also knew Dean better than to think he’d handle it well. You knew by the way you’d woken up by yourself that he’d handled it horribly. He gets worked up over injuries that are on a smaller scale, but this, this was far different than that. Inches from meeting your fate had been much too different than that and you knew he’d disappeared to sulk by himself.

You sighed when you pushed yourself off the bed, leaving the empty infirmary before navigating the bunker. The sight of the books splaying messily across the floor had been an indication of something you already suspected, the quiet in the air having added to the tension only followed when one of the three of you had been angry.

Your bedroom was empty, the blankets stretching over to his side of the bed having been wrinkled some from where he’d been sitting. A photo of the two of you had been sitting there on the nightstand, half-tucked under the base of the lamp sitting lit atop it, the drawer not closed all the way.

The Impala was still in the garage where he’d parked it hours ago, a frown tugging at your lips at the sight of the very hallway everything had taken place.

You knew where he’d be at this hour, at one where everyone should be asleep. Sam had been, you were sure of that, but if Dean hadn’t been in either of those places, you knew where he’d be.

A knowing sigh left your lips as you stepped down into the kitchen, the very one you’d been looking for sitting at the table. You saw the bottle of whiskey on the table and you saw the glass in his hand. You saw the way his hair had been a ruffled mess and you saw the ivory of his knuckles as he held that very same glass. You knew that all too well, you knew he’d been all sorts of torn up inside. He was.

“Knew I’d find you here,” you say, his head turning at the sound of your voice.

You could see the relief flooding his expression as he looked up at you, at the way his eyes widened and the way his face lit up just a little bit more than before, though it didn’t take long for the crease between his brows to deepen once more as you sat down next to him. He’s quiet for a moment before he presses a lingering kiss to your temple, and another as his next words are murmured against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you should be in bed, you’ve been through it today.”

You could hear the fatigue in the softness of his tone, could feel his nose brush against your temple before he turned away.

“Without you?” Your words are lighter as a soft smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

He chuckles, half-humorous as he shakes his head, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. He swallows thickly, thoughts weighing heavy on his mind as a million words sit on the tip of his tongue. You knew a little humor didn’t do much to stave off that feeling he held.

“‘M fine, Dean.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, head shaking before he brings the glass up to his mouth and swallows the rest of his drink, pouring himself another.

You saw the way his eyes were rimmed a pale shade of pink. Dean Winchester wasn’t one to cry too often, but you could always tell when he had been. His eyes were red and so was the very tip of his nose, flushed a soft pink and the quiver in his lip hadn’t quite left just yet.

“I’m serious, Dean. I’m okay.”

“Well you weren’t a few hours ago, Y/n. You were damn near dead,” he says, louder than before as his jaw tenses.

“Well I’m not,” you counter, the huff that puffs through his nose an indication of his frustration.

“I’m glad this is just another day to you, Y/n.”

He brings his hands up to his face, rubbing over it in frustration as he sniffs. You saw that quiver just a little more now, one he hid behind his glass as he tipped his head back and drank it.

“For cryin’ out loud you still got blood on your teeth, Y/n,” he says, softer this time as the tension in his jaw loosens.

You sigh softly, more so to yourself as you stay quiet for a moment or two, your tongue swiping over your teeth before you bite the inside of your cheek. You can see the emotions flicker and roll through him, can see the guilt written clear across his face to match the feeling simmering in the pit of his stomach. When you got up, he’d expected you to just walk away, though instead you find yourself leaning atop the wooden table.

You snag the glass from the loose grip he had on it, setting it aside as he drug his hands down his face.

Your shoulders drop a fraction as you look down at your hands for a moment, foot tapping quietly against the floor. When you looked at him, his gaze was on the table, the inside of his cheek between his teeth. You bring your hand up to smooth over his hair before your palm settles on his cheek, thumb brushing over his chin. His eyes lift to yours, weary and upset.

You don’t fail to miss the way he leans into your touch no matter how subtle, or the way the clench in his jaw dissipates the rest of the way before your hand drops to your lap.

“There was nothing you could’ve done differently back there, De. No matter how much you think otherwise,” you say, watching that tension return as he looks away. “I know that’s what you’re thinking right now, but I’m still here. Now you don’t have to believe me on this, and I know you won’t, but you were there when I needed you the most. And that’s the only thing that matters to me. So you can be mad at yourself all you want, you can blame yourself all you want, but I’m not blaming this on you.”

He sat quietly, simmering in his own silence with closed eyes as his chest heaves a bit more than normal. You swipe your thumb across the crease between his brows, smoothing it softly as you watch the way he bites the inside of his cheek. Dean Winchester’s got a whole lot of stubbornness in him, but a whole lot of softness no matter how many layers of anger and frustration and worry sit atop it.

You move from the table after a beat of silence, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He relaxed under your embrace, more so when you dipped down from behind him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, one more for good measure.

You don’t know what to say for a little while as your head rests against his, arms dangling over his shoulders as you clasp your hands together loosely. You know for a fact he’s still beating himself up for this, that was something you knew was unavoidable. But that was something you could handle.

“Come to bed, De, it’s late,” you murmur, kissing his cheek once, twice, three times.

He hums at first, nodding his head. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

You let him go with a soft squeeze to his shoulders, spinning on your heel as you sigh softly. But it doesn’t take more than a mere few seconds before you hear him move around.

“Sweetheart, wait.”

You turn around once more, brow raised in curiosity.

He’s hesitant for a moment before he crosses the room in a couple of steps, arms around you in an instant. You wrap yours around his neck, his embrace near bone crushing as his face tucks into your neck. His stubble is rough against your skin, the softness of your smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He’s got fistfuls of your shirt in his palms, holding you close as you stand up on your toes.

“What do you say we ditch hunting for a little while?” He mumbles into your neck, your soft laughter immediate as you lean back to look at him. “Don’t want you dyin’ on me again, sweetheart.”

You bit your cheek for a moment as you shook your head, fighting a smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Winchester.”

He rolls his eyes, looking to the side as he fights the beginnings of his smile. “Yeah, well, I’m good with that.”

The tension he held minutes ago lessened some, his expression softer as he looked down at you. You lean on your toes and kiss him softly, lingering just over his lips for a few seconds before kissing him once more with a smile as you speak up.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

—

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