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abbyromanoff · 9 months

Note

omg i have one!! can u do like a soft one where wanda is like crushing hard on r but r completely oblivious bc she’s never been w someone romantically? and then wanda has that moment where she just confesses and it’s all dramatic like in the movies???? <33

LAST MOMENTS

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,670

WARNINGS: angst, heartbreak, depression, mentions of suicide, coma’s, confessions, happy ending, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

It was a cold night in the middle of Winter, your clock reading 12:46 AM, when you got the news. You never usually got calls, especially not at this time, so you were instantly plagued with worry.

Turns out you were right to fear as the woman on the phone who informed you of her role as a doctor at a nearby hospital was the one informing you of the tragic events. Your best friend Wanda had gotten involved in drunk driving and drove her car into a tree. The engine was burning and all she wanted to do was plummet into the warmth that she found to be death.

But a small part of her was still begging for life, a true life that held more meaning than just survival. You were the only promising thing left in her life, but she knew that was more likely to disappear with her growing feelings for you. She didn’t mean for it to happen, it’s not like she wanted it to either, but you were just different.

You weren’t like any ex or fling she had, you were her person and you had been for years now. She wasn’t going to risk losing you by expressing the deep love and passion she held for you, her best friend.

You rushed to the hospital, not bothering to change into something other than your pajamas, even if you felt goosebumps covering your skin. It was cold, freezing, but your mind couldn’t process that. All you knew was that you felt sick, you needed to make sure she was okay. If she wasn’t, you didn’t know how you’d live with yourself.

“Wanda Maximoff, what room is she?” The receptionist took in your disheveled features and quickly granted you the knowledge of her room number, only to then inform you that you weren’t allowed to see her just yet. You wanted to cry, to yell, but nothing came out. Her calls for your attention went deaf to your ears as you slowly took a seat, resting your head in your hands and nearly ripping your hair follicles out.

Minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days before you were granted permission to see her. She was still asleep as you begged her silently to awaken, but there was no response. And that continued for days.

Every day you’d leave for work, visit the hospital, and return home to get dressed and shower. You lacked every important aspect of your life, sleep, eating, but most importantly, Wanda. You didn’t care how long you went before you’d pass out or die of pure hunger, you couldn’t do a thing without her. She was your reason to keep going, what else was left if she wasn’t?

Then it became months, four to be exact. Your other friends would urge you to get some rest when noticing your eye bags and the lack of concentration you held at work. But you denied it, assuring them that you were fine and had to go, little did they know you were once again returning to your spot on the hospital chair beside Wanda’s bed.

The doctors were starting to lose hope and so were you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that she would be okay. This wasn’t normal for this type of injury, the medical workers estimated that the longest she’d be in this coma was two weeks, and she was way passed that date. But you still refused to leave her side in hopes that it wasn’t all for nothing.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I know this must be hard for you to hear-”

“Hard? Really? That’s it? My best fucking friend has been stuck in that bed unresponsive for months and you’ve done nothing about it!” You yelled in the woman’s face, taking out every ounce of anger you held. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, but it was not like she was doing much to help her, not that there was anything she could do.

“I’m going to need you to calm down, Ma’am.” She calmly asserted, only frustrating you further

“How the fuck do you expect me to calm down when you’re telling me you want to kill her?” You were unreasonable at this point, but love did such cruelty to a person.

“That’s not what we’re saying, Miss. All I’m trying to tell you is that if she does not wake up we’ll have no choice but to pull the plug.” She spoke as if it meant nothing, like the life of one of the best people you knew had no meaning to her.

“She’ll wake up, I know it.” The nurse sighed and nodded with a tight-lipped smile before leaving the room, letting you be alone with the redhead.

“Please, Wanda, please wake up, I need you. I don’t think I can live without you.” You held her hand tightly, hoping for some sort of movement but receiving none. It haunted you through your nightmares and daydreams, there was no escape to the harsh reality. But you weren’t giving up on her, not yet.

Another month passed as your hope continued to fade along with your body. You were barely alive, every day your exhaustion and pity for yourself grew. You didn’t know how you were able to keep your job or your apartment that you never went to. Your boss had recognized your issues and gave you multiple weeks off at different points which you were beyond grateful for. You haven’t slept in your own bed since that night, it was either the one at Wanda’s flat or the uncomfortable seat they gave you here.

You were coming home from work, taking a quick shower, and grabbing a granola bar before quickly driving back to your newfound home. The lady at the desk knew you by name, that’s what happened when you came here daily. It was sad really, how you gave up your entire life because of the tragedy. But you knew you’d choose to ruin yourself for her over and over if you had the choice.

But this time was different, you still held your head low as you waltzed into the room, it was too hard to even look at her state. But when you heard a whisper of your name, your head shot up, and everything held in your hands dropped as you spotted her, she was awake.

“Wanda…” You ran over to her at record speeds, wrapping your arms around her tightly as you cried into her shoulder. You were so scared this was yet another dream that you couldn’t decipher as a nightmare or just another loss of hope.

“You’re awake.” You stated the obvious, the staff leaving the room to let you two be. You were almost jealous that they got to witness the moment she woke up.

“I was asking everyone where you were, I was so scared that you finally left.” The news shattered you and the way she spoke with such uncertainty only worsened it. You pulled back, grasping both of her tear-stained cheeks in your hands and rubbing softly with your thumb, She leaned into the feeling, a small smile quirking at her lips from the act.

“I could never give up on you, Wands, never.” She told you everything, how she was able to hear every word you spoke to her while she was asleep, and how it pained her to know how much trouble she caused you. Looking at your face, you looked horrible. You were still beautiful in her eyes, you always would be, but you looked so unhealthy, so different. She didn’t even know who was staring back at her.

You used to be a ball of joy wherever you went, radiating with happiness that could make anyone smile. But now? Now you looked as if you had been tortured for years, yet you were the torturer.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no, don’t apologize, alright? You’re gonna be okay.” You quickly cut her off, trying your best to muster out a smile for her sake.

“But are you?” The question caught you off guard. Not once had someone asked if you were truly okay during this period of your life, most already knew the answer. Hell, you hadn’t even bothered to ask yourself that, you were too focused on if she would be okay. You were too worried about her to worry about you, something only pure love could cause. It was crazy how something that was described to be so magical could leave you barely standing.

“I have you, why wouldn’t I be?” She wiped the tears that had forced their way out of you. You tried holding back, but there was no stopping it now.

“Fuck, I’m- I’m sorry.” You challenged yourself to look away and hide, but she eased you back in her direction. There was no shame with her, there never was and that’s what you loved most about her.

“It’s my fault you’ve become so…different.” She acknowledged, blinking away the blur that started to appear in her eyes.

“No, it’s mine. You made a stupid decision but my reaction isn’t your fault.” She nodded, trying to move herself on the bed so you could sit with her. She just wanted to rest, and you would finally be able to do so knowing she would still be there when you woke up.

“I love you, Y/N.” She had repeated the phrase many times, but the both of you could feel the difference this time. There was more sincerity, more meaning to it. It wasn’t what you’d tell your family or closest friends,

“I love you more.” You uttered, staring at her lips as she did the same. You felt your lips brush against her soft ones and sucked a deep breath in, your eyes fluttering shut as you sank into the feeling. When you both pulled away after the difficulty to breathe increased, there were smiles planted on both of your faces.

“Not possible.”

#wanda maximoff oneshot #Wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader angst #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda maximoff x reader smut

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drefear · 7 months

Text

Hail to the King

Chapter 8: Conversion

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

TW: car sex, memories of abuse, anxiety, dark thoughts, violence, murder, lots of shot. It’s a mafia fic, what do you think is about to happen?

The drive to wherever the fuck Miguel was taking you was filled with dread and completely soundless aside from the hum of the engine. Your arms covered your chest, as if trying to hug yourself as tight as possible and comfort yourself on the way to whatever meet up was happening. His hand lifted to hold you in some way, to show he was on your side and was going to keep you safe from the fuckers who tries to lay a finger on you.

But he didn’t. Miguel put his hand back on his phone and contacted the others, then being distracted by the tattoos on his knuckles, thinking about the numbers “2099” and back to his phone.

You sat, your face stained and rosy from the tears you cried, the anxieties pouring out of you as you heard Miguel directing the others.

Just then you saw a face out the window that you recognized as the car stopped at a light.

“Eddie.” You spoke and Miguel turned his face to look at you.

“What?”

“That’s- he’s right there!” You pointed as Eddie pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and began to walk away. Without thinking, you opened the door and launched into a sprint, chasing him now.

“Get back here!” Miguel screamed at you, but the only sound you heard was your heart pounding in your ears. Your heels crunched under each heavy step as you panted, catching up with him and finally grabbing his shoulder, pushing him to the ground. You tried to stop, but fell forward from the lack of balance and landed on his back.

“Eddie!” You yelled as people began to stare and you yanked his hood back, revealing him to the light of day. Your name was heard from behind you, but you drowned it out with the pure rage you saw. The memories of broken bones and black eyes, bruises and beatings came back as your fists shot attacks to his shoulders and the back of his head, tears clouding your vision. You felt two hands wrap around your torso and pull you off of him as you let out a painful screech, thrashing in Miguel’s grip as he held you back. Eddie stood up and looked at you, face a bit blood from being punched into the cement. His face was bewildered, shocked you had fought him. The surprise turned to anger as his features scrunched together.

“You fucking little bitch, I’ll end you! I was nice until now, trying to show you I wanted you back-”

“That’s enough.” Miguel pulled you tight to his chest as he kept his eyes trained on Eddie, not daring to break eye contact, “She doesn’t want you, and you won’t be ‘ending’ anyone.” Miguel glanced behind Eddie briefly before both Hobie and Pav appeared behind him, resting a hand each on Eddie’s shoulders and pushing him to the ground onto his hands. Miguel released you finally, but held one of your hands as his foot moved to stomp on Eddie’s fingers, the pops of breaking bones making you twitch a bit. You watched the interaction as Eddie yelped in pain and looked up at Miguel, fear corrupting the soft lines of his face while he began to grovel.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think she was-” He stuttered as Miguel crouched down.

“You laid a hand on the woman you claim to love, to need, so now I’m going to kill you. Painfully. I’m going to hang you by your throat from the highest building in Nueva York and watch you bleed out while fucking the woman you’re obsessed with.” Miguel pinched his nose and pulled his head up, a hiss coming from the lower man’s lips. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human, so I’m going to exterminate you.”

Standing again, he fixed the creases in his suit and pulled you against him once more, pressing a kiss to your temple and then yanking you to follow him. “Clean this up.” you said to Hobie as he forced you to leave with him, leaving behind your previous abuser and the two henchmen.

“Miguel, did you-”

“From now on, let me handle things. Now we’re late for this meeting and that could mean serious consequences.” He opened the door to the SUV and gestured for you to get in, relaxing a bit more once you sat inside and the door was shut. He got in on the other side and pinched the bridge of his nose, something you noticed he did often when he was stressed.

You sat in silence as you wiped your face. Everything happened all at once, so intensely. Old wounds you thought were long healed were now reopened and even more painful than the first time. Miguel’s hand rested on your knee and your eyes shifted to his, meeting his ruby red irises with anticipation. “You’re a part of this now, and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Now that Eddie can’t get to me, won’t they just hire someone else to get me?”

“Not if this meeting goes in my favor. No one in this city gets to challenge me without repercussions.“ You nodded and sighed, leaving your hand on top of his in a symbol of solidarity. Your eyes glistened with fear as you pulled him closer. He looked down in confusion as your hands moved to undo his belt and lower his pants. His hand caught your wrists and you looked up.

“Please, I-I,” You stopped speaking and began to feel your bottom lip wobble as you prayed the tears you felt coming on didn’t spill over. “I don’t know why, but I need you right now, I need this.” As your voice cracked, he let out a breath and let go of his harsh hold on your hand.

Miguel’s finger hit a button and a window came up to separate the front seat and the back, giving you two privacy. You pulled his cock free finally and marveled at its size, how thick it was in your hands. You immediately latched your mouth to the tip and swirled your tongue a bit, causing him to let out a slight hiss. His hands balled into fists next to him and you took one to place on the back of your head, eyes meeting his and giving him silent permission to guide you. He slid the hand to the back of your neck and let you bob on his cock before lifting you and enjoying the string of saliva from your lips.

“We don’t have time for me to fuck that mouth, now get on.” He squeezed your thigh and lifted your skirt, leaning down to give your clit a kiss and make you gasp before guiding you down. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have time to prep you.”

“Just shut up and put it in.” You answered sharply and he smirked, pulling your hips down to slide into you. Just the tip had you gasping and groaning, squeezing his shoulder as your walls fluttered around him. He kept his eyes on your expressions as he didn’t stop, moving you down until you were halfway, then jerking and bottoming out. The second his hips met yours, you let out a loud yelp and dug your nails into his suit jacket, teeth clenched as the burn turned to pleasure. That's when he began to swivel your hips back and forth on him, feeling him nudge against the deepest parts of you as your body rocked to his command. Your head bent into his neck as you panted and his thighs started to bounce under you a bit, making you do the same and rebound back onto him. You saw stars as you kept his hands on your waist now, staying in control of the pace and position. His movements made your jaw slack and open, letting out the loudest sounds you’d ever released as he pounded into you from the bottom. Quickly building, you felt your release about to pop and explode. He spurred on your climax by biting your shoulder and leaving a hard smack against your bobbing ass, making you squeeze your eyes shut and constrict around his dick as you shook with the orgasm that tore through you.

Gasping for air, you leaned onto his shoulder as he slipped out of you and tucked his still-hard dick back into his dress pants.

“We’re almost there, so relax for a minute.” he looked out the window as the car continued moving and the world spun around you from that earth shattering release. You sighed and closed your eyes, then freezing when you felt his hand slip into yours and intertwine with your fingers. “I wanted to have a better first time with you, but I know you needed it.” He mumbled without looking at you, surprise covering your features. “Get yourself presentable.”

The short amount of time you had left before the car stopped, you fixed your clothing and didn’t speak, avoiding eye contact with Miguel. Meanwhile, his eyes stayed glued on you, as if watching for any sign of malcontent or upset. You stared at your hands and picked at your nails, trying to breathe quietly as he stared holes in the side of your head like a gargoyle, not moving and eyes serious. The sound of the driver putting the gear shift into park made your head spring up and look forward, practically hopping out of your frozen position and filling up with life once more. Miguel’s hand trapped your wrist and yanked you towards him, his voice low as if warning you.

“Don’t make any sudden movements and don’t move away from me, make sure you stay within a foot of me.”

“Won’t that look suspicious?”

“I don’t care, this isn’t about what they think, it’s about keeping you safe. You’re part of the O’Hara family now, and that puts you under my protection, so you’ll stay close to me.” He repeated and you just nodded.

Your brain was still fuzzy, chasing Eddie and then riding Miguel. The whole day seemed to be a complete roller coaster and you were getting whiplash from the sharp turns it was taking.

He got out of the car and you saw him fix his suit jacket, clasping the last button before reaching in towards you and helping you climb out. You checked your reflection and saw how your hair was a bit frizzy and your jacket was a bit wrinkled. Tugging it down and combing your fingers over your head, you sighed and settled with the frazzled look you had. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked up to see Miguel’s eyes soft, squeezing as if to comfort you. The gesture was well intended but you were once more reminded of the previous 20 minutes and began feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He smirked slightly and pulled you forward with a hand on your lower back, as if guiding you across the River Styx for your eternal damnation. At least that’s what it felt like.

Walking into an elevator, you noticed that Hobie and Jess were now next to you. “When did-“

As if you weren’t even there, Jess looked through her yellow tinted glasses above you to Miguel. “He’s been taken care of.”

“A real whiny one, too, kept cryin-“

Miguel shot a glare at Hobie and then all of their eyes fell onto you, but you kept your gaze on the floor.

Taken care of… the words echoed in your head over and over. Eddie was dead, that’s what they meant. You knew that, but it still felt strange. He beat you, hurt you, destroyed your life, chased you from your home, stalked you and was going to kill you… yet, you still had a lump in your throat. Was it mourning? Mourning for the man you knew, or the man you thought he was? Maybe it was just pity, thinking of him as a sad excuse of a human. Or maybe it was anger. Anger because you wanted to see the light die in his eyes the way he had extinguished the joy you had in life and hope for love.

That one seemed to fit best as you felt your hand become almost numb from how tight of a fist you were making. You wanted to enjoy hurting him like he had hurt you, torture him just for a while as you got retribution for all the torture he put you through for years. Controlling you, belittling you, lying to you, cheating, screaming, hitting, hurting-

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone grabbing your wrist. You looked up to see Jess staring down at you with confusion and concern.

“You with us?”

“Yes, sorry.” You mumbled and avoided eye contact before Miguel grabbed your chin and forced your face to look at him.

“Your hand is bleeding.”

“What?” Your sights snapped to your plans, seeing that you were bleeding from the nails digging into your hands from your tight fists. Miguel opened his jacket and wiped the drops of blood on the inside of his suit, then planting a gentle kiss to the little cuts.

“Follow my lead.”

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#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst #mafia Miguel #miguel angst #hail to the king #HTTK

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mvltisstuff · 10 months

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Evan Buckley & female reader - a fic where instead of the firetruck crushing buck’s leg, it crushes the reader’s leg instead and the reader is in the firetruck when it explodes and Buck & reader have been engaged for 2 years. Buck is worried and scared and panics when he sees the reader underneath the truck. He helps her through the physical therapy of getting back her leg strength and helps her through how she is told she may not be able to be a firefighter again.

lots of angst, heartbreak, sadness, anger, fluff too 💙

love ur 911 fics so much ❤️‍🩹

are you with me - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i’m so happy you guys like my fics, i have plenty coming your way soon 🩶 btw this started off pretty strong and idk what happened toward the end w the quality

it’s never realized how much calamity one person can cause in such a large city. people get in their cars to go to work, they order a package, they stop at the store, and the last thing they expect is an explosion right at their feet.

over three million people in los angeles, and one forced 30 tons of weight onto y/n’s leg. it was just work. something she does every single day. of course, nothing in life ever remains the same, but this is really something you can never expect. you watch it in movies, or you hear about it in the news, only until it happens to you.

she knew the bones in her leg were crushed upon the impact, the engine thrown on its side. buck watched from a distance, being held back by the police. he would do anything for her. he wanted to tear this kid to shreds. he saw y/n’s broken leg under the truck and her head weakly lifting up. he could almost hear the pained gasps and whimpers from her lips. y/n, on the other hand, felt like she was in the center of the ring, the joke of this kid.

all the bystanders watched the scene unfold, the boy trying to summon the captain of the 118. it felt unreal. the noise and the truck shaking the ground they walked on.

buck thought he hallucinated the sparkling ring on y/n’s hand, somehow managing to remind him of the fight he was about to do. he vividly remembers the day he got down on his knee, bargaining the rest of his life to her and crying when she said yes. the whole team had been there, watching from a distance as her hand covered her mouth and lifted him from the floor. their wedding was being planned, every last detail needing to be perfect for the couple.

most people’s instinct would be to run away, but buck wanted to run toward the chaos. if y/n was there, so was he. his life mission has been to keep her safe, and knowing someone went out of his way to hurt her makes him go crazy. the exact moment that freddie was taken down with his overcomplicated vest, buck found himself running to her. he instantly fell onto his knees, seeing the ash and tears on her face close up.

she wished she couldn’t feel it, but she felt every part of it. she didn’t know anything. was her leg even connected to her anymore? buck moved himself closer to her so she could hear him over the murmuring of watchers.

“hey! hey, y/n,” he starts.

“it h-hurts so bad,” she whines, making him grimace himself.

“son of a bitch, ok. we’re gonna get you out of there, yeah?”

“please,” she begs, almost inaudible. buck stands up, calling for anyone he can to lift the truck off her, which was almost impossible with a few people around. hen was on the ground, connecting machines to y/n’s harmed figure.

“hang in there, y/n/n,” she says softly. “we’ve got you.”

despite his entire body weight being used to lift the ladder engine, it didn’t budge once. the only thing it did was echo the raw screams from y/n, poisoning bucks ears making his heart speed up. the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him think he could do it.

“do you have anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” eddie asks to a panicked bobby, trying to save one of his workers and best friends.

“it’s too heavy, it wouldn’t work,” bobby says as a light goes off in bucks head.

“more people,” he mumbles. “we need more people! hey! all of you, get over here and lift this!” he shouts at the mob of people observing the accident. not hesitating, the civilians sprint over and grab onto any part of the truck that they can.

y/n was in grievous pain, dreading the agony that would come when they finally lifted it. she was right, it was tormenting, releasing shrieks she didn’t know she had. before she could rethink everything, she was tugged from under and flipped onto her back. buck couldn’t peel his gaze away from the blood that has completely stained her pant leg and the parts of her leg that should be inside of it. complete shock and fear took over his body, but not enough to stand there with her the whole time. he watched chimney and hen bandage up her leg and move her into the ambulance, where buck sat next to her. hen was in the back with him, chim being the designated driver. unfortunately, y/n had been awake for the entire experience. from the second the engine flipped, to the second she was lifted into the ambulance. as much buck was grateful that she was awake, he almost wanted her to pass out. she wouldn’t have to endure this much pain, despite the morphine kicking in.

y/n’s hand twitched in bucks, “buck?” she grumbles out.

“y/n,” he makes note of her panicked state. “i’m here, you’re ok. i’m not going anywhere, honey.”

“someone should tell the city that we need a n-new truck,” buck laughs at her mind and how it works before running a hand through her hair.

“you don’t have to worry about that,” says buck. “you have no idea how relieved i am that you’re ok.”

“we’re getting married soon,” she realizes. “shit, we were supposed to get married soon-“

“shh, it’s all gonna work out, ok?” buck reassures. “i’d marry you no matter what, broken leg or not.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

the hours sitting in the waiting room were grueling. maddie had left to be with buck, watching the entire scene go down on the news. even her heart ached, watching someone she already considers family have to face something like this. the whole team was anxiously waiting for the surgeon to come out and say she’d be ok. she held them together like a true family, being the most stable relationship they had. she was the part of the station that made their bond unbreakable. watching her vulnerable condition under that truck was almost intolerable. the time that she wasn’t in work felt like a missing puzzle piece.

weeks had passed since the bombings of LA, and buck had been there every single day. in sickness and in health, he hasn’t said the words out loud, but he swore to that since the day he met her. he knows that she would do the same exact thing for him, and he would spend every single day helping her.

y/n felt completely isolated in their small apartment, barely being able to leave the first floor. she craved work, she desperately awaited the day that she could return, but the injury in her leg hadn’t resolved. no matter how many times she tried to convince herself, she didn’t know if she’d ever be a firefighter again. at some point, she almost envied her fiancé for being able to go to work. he felt so bad for her, just wanting to give her her life back. the weekly doctors appointments were draining her of almost everything she had, every single one proving nothing. nothing that meant anything. the situation was completely out of anyone’s control, and she had consumed so much anger about it. anger at the doctors, the therapists, the kid, the 118, everyone around her.

buck was forced to sit back and watch, to act as a shoulder to cry on. he was the third crutch, the person she leaned on when she couldn’t stand on her own. there was no way in hell she could’ve done it alone. buck was the one to drive her to every appointment and helped carry some of the burden.

at the end of the day, there were two things that scared y/n the most. losing buck and losing her job. the two things that got her out of bed and the two things that gave her a true meaning. as time passed and every request to be back at work was denied, she swore her heart hurt more than her leg.

“y/n?” buck called out after arriving back home. she had been on the couch, watching another drama series about firefighters. “hi, how are you doing?” he asked when spotting her in the living room. she didn’t respond, just looked at the television with the volume low. he went and sat next to her.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?”

her eyes had already been bothered from tears of anger and frustration, and he could clearly see that with his own. “they called again.”

“wasn’t the answer you wanted?”

“i have been pushing myself every day for approval, and i have not gotten anything for it,” she says, dryly. “i have been killing myself to go back to what i love and why am i not getting anything?” her voice cracks.

“listen,” he tries to distract her from her own negativity and forces her to look at him. “i know you’ve heard this a million times, but you have to let yourself take the time to heal. if you go back too soon, you’re going to make it worse.”

her nose scrunches at bucks words, causing her to sniffle as he continues. “i know, it sucks, and i am so, so sorry. it’s just that none of us want to see you do more harm than good. we need you back as a firefighter, but i need you back to normal first. you’re worth so much more than this, and this injury is not going to take you out, we all know it.”

y/n opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides the small beginning of a word. she knows he’s right, but having to come to terms with that is the hardest part of it all. she begins to cry lightly again, her face in her hands as she leans forward. buck slides over, wrapping his arms around his distressed fiancé.

y/n took bucks advice, and now, she stands in the entrance of the firehouse. she walks in to see her uniform waiting for her in her cabinet, her gear untouched, and it feels like she was here yesterday. she feels at home here. buck follows her in, grabbing her hand and they restart the rest of their lives.

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nescaveckwriter · 24 days

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Lighthouse

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷

Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.

Line: Tree, Clock, Rope

Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley

Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕

The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?

The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.

Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.

It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.

Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.

He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.

Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner. Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"

His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"

Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"

The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"

"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"

Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"

"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"

"I'd like to see you try missy"

She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.

The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"

The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"

Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"

The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.

And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.

He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"

Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"

Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"

Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"

Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"

Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"

Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.

Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"

You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"

Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"

The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"

Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.

The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.

As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.

The older man helped her up, "you okay?"

"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.

A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"

She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"

He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.

"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"

She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.

There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.

Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.

Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.

Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.

She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.

"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.

The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered

The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.

"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"

Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"

Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.

The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.

Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"

The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".

Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.

The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"

Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"

He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"

Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"

Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.

His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"

Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"

Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"

Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"

The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"

Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"

Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"

Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"

With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.

Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.

Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"

"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"

Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"

In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.

The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"

The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.

The large man with his black coat walks towards her.

He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"

"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"

As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.

The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.

You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.

Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes. You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.

Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.

Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.

His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.

"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"

"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"

"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled

Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"

His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"

Your jaw dropped, "What?"

He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"

Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"

The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.

Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"

Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.

Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.

His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"

Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"

Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"

Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"

He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"

Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"

Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"

Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"

His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"

Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit. He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.

They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.

The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.

He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"

Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"

"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.

Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"

"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded

Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"

"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned

Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.

It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.

Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.

Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.

"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed

Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"

Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.

Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"

Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.

Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.

Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"

Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"

It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.

Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.

#jacklesversebingo23 #nescveckwriter #lighthouse #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles x reader #spotify #jared padalecki #sam and dean #dean winchester imagine #benny lafitte #castiel spn #spn #Spotify

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kopivie · 6 months

Note

okay so i’m obsessed with your hades wrio so i have to know,, does he compromise? like in the original myth of hades & persephone he decides to let her back into the over world 6 months out of the year,, does he use something akin to the pomegranate seeds? id love to hear your thoughts lol

i'm so happy you like it! thank you so much for reading my silly little rambles, heh ♡ but i've been giving this a lot of thought because as of right now, i'm not 100% sure on what would act as the pomegranate seeds in this au. this is gonna be a bit of a brainstorm post, so bear with me:

it's evident that wriothesley loves and adores you enough to want to monopolize you, but he also knows that if he keeps you here for too long, you may grow to truly hate him. he can't have that, so he lets you go.

to some, the pomegranate seeds in persephone's myth symbolizes the indissolubility of marriage. i'm not quite sure if our hades!wriothesley would make you ingest something quite like that, but i do think he would give you a small mechanical device developed by the best mechanics and engineers in fontaine. this device would act as a timer that would go off on the fall solstice each year, which would signify that it was time for you to return "home".

hades would be gentle about it. he knows that you're suffering without organic plants and the initial love (or infatuation) you felt for him was dwindling by the day, so he pulls you aside one evening to propose the idea. he will send you back to the surface on the spring equinox. wriothesley will watch your expression change several times, but he will continue:

you deserve to thrive in the warmth of the sun. you need the long days and short nights that spring and summer provide. you deserve to be happy.... but there's a catch. the world in the fall and winter is no different from the fortress of meropide year-round; you will return to the fortress on the fall solstice to stay warm and cared for with wriothesley, who will ensure your happiness.

i think out of sheer desperation, you agree to his terms. if i were to circle back to the whole pomegranate seed thing, i don't think that would be necessary. like maybe it's just the prolonged time away from wriothesley that allows for your emotions to settle; the dust clears, the anger fades, and you're left feeling... hollow. you feel lonely in your bed at night. in the warmer months, you feel like the euphoria you feel is best shared with a companion -- with a loved one. what would wriothesley think about picnics with you on a grassy hilltop? would he go swimming with you? surely he'd ask you for flower crowns for sigewinne, right?

the time you spend away from wriothesley are freeing, yet simultaneously agonizing. you miss him.

so when the timer goes off on the fall solstice, you're actually eager to return to wriothesley's side. he's taken aback by your change in demeanor around him when you come back to the fortress -- you're shy around him, you get flustered so easily, and he can feel your lingering gaze from a mile away. but it's certainly not an unwelcome change. it's like a fresh start, where the two of you can now blossom into each other without the threat of resentment looming overhead.

i'm kinda giddy just thinking about the previously overconfident wriothesley being reduced to a smitten lover once more when you come back and actually return his feelings.. it's so cute! he wasn't expecting you to warm up to him during your time away, but now that you aren't giving him the cold shoulder or appearing visibly reluctant to accept his kindness, he doesn't really know what to do.

#[ 📬 — inbox. ]#hades!wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader #heavy sigh...#he's so cute #but also so intimidating

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

The Duff 16

Warnings: groping, insecurity, food and body issues, manipulation, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far. ♥♥♥♥

Image credit (I want to give dues where due but don’t want the creator to keep getting tagged in my posts as I have been approached by some before that they don’t want me in their notifs)

Andy wipes a fleck of lettuce from his tie as you walk along. He’s pretty calm despite being assaulted. You’re still rattled, a jittery pulse flowing through you. You hug yourself as you head up toward the office building.

“You okay?” He asks, yet again.

“Coming down,” you assure him with an exhale, “I’m so sorry about that–”

“I told you, you don’t need to apologise for that guy,” he insists, “he’s nuts.”

“Uh, yeah,” you sniff as you slow, glancing further up the street towards the bus stop.

“I’m just happy I was there,” Andy says, “seems like he was on a mission. I hate to think what would have happened if you were alone.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum and shudder at the thought.

You can’t help but feel guilty. If you’d just answered Curtis, you’re sure he wouldn’t have got so worked up. You could’ve deflected him, at least lied and bought some time. You wouldn’t blame Andy if he holds this against you. You’re his employee and he was half-throttled on your behalf.

“Hey, how about I give you a ride,” he offers, “I don’t like the idea of you going off alone right now. He could still be hanging around.”

“Oh, I don’t know, that’s too–”

“It’s the least I can do. Really, I don’t mind,” he stops just in front of the locked up office, “come on. The drive will give you some time to calm down.”

You mull the prospect. You can take the fifteen minute ride or wait as long just to get on the bus, then sit in a compartment of strangers as you look over your shoulder every two seconds. You owe him, big time.

“Alright, thanks, Andy,” you accept, “I’m sorry again–”

“Please,” he waves you off as he reaches into his jacket pocket and you hear the chirp of a nearby car, “stop. No more sorries.”

He points you toward his car and you follow him. You parallel him as he gets in on the driver’s side and you daintily swing into the passenger’s seat. The curve of your thigh hits the clutch as you do. You wiggle back in the seat and buckle up. You give your address to Andy as he flips open Google Maps.

Andy clicks his belt into place and starts the engine. You clutch your bag in your lap and stare through the windshield. Your mind is already ahead of you. You just want to get home and have a hot bath, try to forget the day. You drag your fingers up your arm, you’re not sure you can get rid of the lingering sensation of Curtis’ grip or the echo of anger in your ears.

“So, uh,” Andy pulls out, “that guy was pretty worked up. Boyfriend or–”

You shake your head and scoff, “please.”

“Ah, hmm,” he grips the top of the wheel, his other hand tapping along the lower curve, “that club, you must’ve met him there, right? That’s the wild weekend you had, huh?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. I can’t even think about…” you huff and bend your arm against the door, cradling your cheek, “oh, Jesus. I’m so embarrassed.”

“We all have our strikeouts,” he says lightly, “I tried out this dating app after my divorce, not exactly a positive experience, but I learned from it.”

“Oh yeah? Well, yeah, dating is… difficult,” you mutter.

“Tell me about it. Doesn’t get easier either. So much has changed since I got married, then divorced. I went on one date where a woman brought her friends. She just wanted me to buy dinner for them all,” he shook his head, “turns out she was a lot younger than she said on her profile… bit too young for me.”

“Sounds complicated,” you sit back and keep your hand on the door, nervously feeling along the buttons and divet, “I usually don’t– It was all my friends. They always want to go out but I’m just left on the sideline. He was there and I thought he was a nice guy… I was wrong.”

“Well, I can assure you, there are still nice guys out there,” Andy idles at a stop sign. You feel his eyes on you as he stay a bit too long before clearing his throat and stepping down on the pedal, “patience, that’s what my friends tell me, at least.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to just… wait. Hope he goes away, hope I find someone better. I don’t know, being alone isn’t bad, at least you make your own decisions,” you shrug.

“There is that. I don’t miss asking the wife for every little thing, that’s for sure,” he chuckles, “anyway, I just… if this guy keeps bugging you, I don’t mind putting him in his place again.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you trace your thumb along the interior of the door, “really, it’s my problem.”

“It’s not a problem you should have to deal with, especially alone,” he glances at you then back to the road, “you’re a nice girl. I kinda get why the guy is so crazy but just the thought of him grabbing you like he did, how violent he was, it makes me so angry. You don’t deserve that,” he reaches over blindly and caresses your arm with his knuckles, “don’t think that you do.”

He retracts his hand as you shift. His touch leaves a tingle along your arm and knot in your stomach. That uncertainty bubbles in your chest. Are you reading into this? He’s your boss, he’s being nice. If anything he feels bad for you.

“Thanks,” you utter and look down as you twiddle your fingers.

You stew in the silence as his car engine whirs softly. You lift your chin again to watch out the window, recognising the neighbourhood as he pulls onto your street. You point ahead, “the red building there.”

He follows your direction and pulls in at the curb. You wrap your arms around your bag and blow out a breath of relief. You’re home.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as you unbuckle the seatbelt, “really, I owe you. How can I–”

As you turn to him, you’re suddenly smothered. His lips are on yours as he brings his hand up behind your head. His beard tickles, both soft and coats, and you squirm, letting out a pathetic murmur. You push on his chest, entirely surprised by the kiss.

You shove him away and heave, “Andy, what are you–”

“I’m sorry, did I misread–”

“Wow,” you shake your head and pick at the lock, facing away from him as you try to hide your horror, “I… you’re my boss.”

You finally push the lock back and open the door. You get a foot out, shaky and unsteady, and struggle to get out.

“I’m sorry,” Andy repeats again.

“You know what, let’s forget it,” You hook your bag in your elbow, turning back halfway but refusing to look at him, “I can if you can.”

“Yeah, of course, I–”

“Good night,” you swing the door shut and nearly trip over the curb.

You face the building, eyes full of tears. What is wrong with men?

#curtis everett #dark curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #dark!curtis everett #snowpiercer #drabble #au #the DUFF #series

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hamsterclaw · 10 months

Note

hey there rei my ult bias in fanfic writing ☺️

I am not sure if you grant request. I am just really bummed out with work these days. Working overseas is completely burning me out. Reading your works bring me to another dimension, and I am grateful for you always.

Seeing Namjoon yestie with his woes about how shit happens. He even mentioned specifically about relationships... (like who hurt him?)

He looks so hot(as always) but that live was just giving me a lot of angst vibes or something.

Angry sex has always been a turn on to me. I wanna relive it in your words if it'a possible? haha

Anyhow, I love you for always.

Thank you for you..

Love and light ♡

-Chant

Hey Chant, sorry to hear work is hard — living away is so tough too. I read this and thought of the dent in the wall Namjoon made that’s referenced in Five Fuck Friday and this drabble was born. Hope you enjoy it and that it helps! Sending much love your way.

Pairing: Namjoon x f! Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, swearing, spanking, angry Namjoon punching a wall

Namjoon turns off the car engine, a flick of a switch, and there’s a beat, two, of absolute silence that you know, you just know doesn’t bode well for you.

Your husband, for all his carelessness with your heart, has never once made you feel physically unsafe.

Not in all the years you’ve known him.

You’re aware of the size difference between you, how could you not be? It’s evident everyday, when you have to adjust the front seat after he’s been in the car just so you can reach the pedals, when you have to grab a stool to get something off a high shelf in the kitchen that Namjoon could reach effortlessly.

When he’s on top of you, so caught in the throes of his pleasure he forgets not to let you take his full weight. How he steals your breath in so many ways.

But, truly, your husband’s never been like this before.

He gives you a long look in the dark of the car park, a muscle ticking in his jaw. No sign of the dimples you love.

Namjoon exits the car, yanks your door open for you. He’s so close he’s crowding you, you have to turn your head to prevent your face from hitting his broad chest, the way he’s leaning over you.

‘Joon,’ you say, a quiet protest, and he scoffs.

‘Joon,’ he spits. ‘Remember me? Your husband?’

He holds up his hand, platinum wedding band glinting as you head to the entrance to your building.

‘Didn’t you put this ring on my finger, wife?’

His voice has dropped to almost a growl, and your unease ramps up a notch.

‘Answer me,’ he snaps, when you’re in the lift to your floor, glowering at you, so big he takes up almost an entire side of the tiny lift.

You force yourself to look up at his face.

‘I did,’ you say, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Namjoon watches as you fish your keys out of your bag, try unsuccessfully to unlock the front door of your apartment.

He moves so quickly you startle, large hand closing over yours to help you turn the key, other hand braced on the door next to your head to push it open.

You flick the switch, automatically, step out of your shoes, take two tentative steps down the hallway.

‘Where. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You’re. Going.’

The fury in your husband’s voice makes you tremble.

You’re breathing shallowly, because he’s starting to scare you now.

The crash next to your head makes you jump, scream.

You stare in shock at the dent in the plaster your husband’s made with his fist.

Namjoon, your college fuckbuddy turned new husband, a man who’d rather fuck than talk, has just punched a hole in the wall of your shared apartment.

You turn to him, shocked into silence.

He takes a step towards you, and you flinch back against the wall.

Namjoon stops dead.

He stares at you, the anger in his face melting into dismay as he studies your expression.

‘Fuck,’ he says, but there’s no heat in his voice now.

‘Fuck, baby, are you scared of me?’

You freeze.

Namjoon drops to his knees in front of you.

‘Shit. I’d never — you know I’d never —‘

He reaches for your hand. ‘I’d never touch you, not like that,’ he says, voice hoarse, shaky.

He nudges his face into your blouse, presses his cheek to your stomach, and when you reach for him he presses into you eagerly.

‘Tell me to shut up,’ he says, looking up at you. ‘Don’t just put up with it if I’m scaring you, baby.’

‘You weren’t really scaring me,’ you tell him, and he groans.

‘I’m sorry,’ he tells you. ‘I’m fucking sorry.’

He’s nudged your blouse open now, tugged it out of your skirt, pressing kisses to your skin. His mouth, warm and wet, makes you shiver as his lips travel down your belly, to the band of your panties.

You reach down to help him unclasp your skirt, but Namjoon, a veteran of getting you out of your clothes, shakes his head. In a split second he's tugging down your skirt, exposing your underwear, your bare thighs.

He kisses your core over the cotton of your underwear, and you can feel the warmth of him through the material. You suck in a breath as his tongue pokes against your clit.

'Take it off, Joon-ah,' you moan.

Namjoon, on his knees, yanks your panties down, seals his mouth over your bare cunt. He doesn't start slow, just throws your thigh over his shoulder and kisses your cunt like he's starving for it, tongue delving deep, slurping at your arousal, swallowing audibly.

He's messy, as desperate as he's making you feel, and when you reach down to card your fingers through his hair, he groans.

He pulls back, eyes hot. 'Pull my hair, baby. Make me eat you ---'

'You like that?' you ask, breathless. Your husband's a sight to behold right now, lips gleaming with your slick, eyes hooded, hair mussed even though it's been shorter lately.

'Fuck, yeah,' Namjoon grunts. 'Fuck.'

You tug his hair, pull his face between your legs, and Namjoon opens his mouth wide, laps at your clit. His big hand moves from where he's steadying your thigh over his shoulder, and a moment later you feel his fingers pressing into you.

'Joon,' you moan.

Namjoon says nothing, concentrating on fucking you with his fingers, licking at your clit, spreading you open with his other hand.

Your fingers tighten in his hair as you come, and Namjoon moans in approval as you buck your hips into his face.

Your knees weaken, and Namjoon tugs you into his arms.

You're still pulsing around nothing when he pushes you down on your bed, undoes his belt.

You want to watch him undress but he grunts, tugs your hip.

'Turn over, ass up,' he tells you. 'You're gonna get fucked.'

You turn, and Namjoon drops to his knees again, licks a stripe up your cunt.

'Taste so fucking good,' he says, voice low, taut.

He scissors two fingers into you from behind, pulls out, and then he's nudging into you.

He feels fucking huge like this, like you can feel him all way in the back of your throat.

Namjoon groans, long and loud. 'Fuh -- uh -- uck.'

He stays completely still once he's filled you, one hand on your ass, kneading hard.

Then, he pulls out.

You turn your head to look at him in surprise.

He's hard, so hard, cock bobbing as he grasps himself.

'This is for you,' he tells you, voice strained. 'This is how fucking hard I get for you.'

You're not sure where he's going with this.

'You were flirting, weren't you, with Jia's brother, at dinner?'

You try to turn over but he's too quick.

His palm meets your ass in an open handed smack.

You squeak in surprise, try to turn over but he stops you.

'You can make it stop, you know how ---' He's stern, but you know what he's really checking.

You search your memory frantically for the safeword you agreed once when you were both drunk and horny.

'I know how,' you tell him, and Namjoon studies your face.

He nods like he's satisfied.

He spanks you again, rings cold against the flesh of your backside, and you moan.

'I wasn't.'

Namjoon laughs, darkly. 'Don't lie to me.'

He hits you again, and this time it stings so much you cry out.

You know Namjoon will keep going unless you tell him to stop.

Shit, you don't want him to stop.

Namjoon strokes a finger along your slit, enters you shallowly. You try to push against him but he pulls his hand away.

'So fucking greedy,' he scoffs.

He's still fisting his cock, and you could cry at how much you want him back inside you.

'Fine,' you say. 'I was flirting, a bit. But you were flirting too!'

For the second time tonight, your husband stops dead.

'What?'

'You were flirting with Jia and that woman with the green dress,' you point out.

You turn over, and for once Namjoon doesn't leer at your tits.

He's staring at your face.

'Did that bother you?' he asks.

You lift up your hand. Your diamond wedding band flashes. 'You put this ring on my finger too.'

For a moment Namjoon gapes at you.

'I don't want to fuck anyone but you,' Namjoon says, finally.

'Same,' you tell him.

Namjoon pulls you on top of him, mouth seeking yours. You can taste yourself on him still.

'Fuck, get inside me, Joon,' you gasp.

Namjoon grasps you tight against his chest, pulls you under him, enters you all the way in one movement.

'Fuck,' he utters. His hips move, he fucks into you, deep, slow, letting you feel every inch of the drag of his cock inside you.

You’re still so wet from his mouth and your own arousal the slide is easy, his pelvis grinding against your clit on every deep thrust.

‘Joon-ah,’ you moan.

‘I’m here,’ he tells you. ‘I’m here, fuck, it’s me.’

You curl an arm around his neck, and he drops his face willingly so you can press kisses to his cheeks as he fucks you.

‘I’m gonna come,’ he grunts. ‘You feel so good —-‘

You want to tell him it’s ok but he thumbs your clit, plunges in deep, and you moan his name again as you come. Namjoon picks up the pace, pounding into you hard until he groans and you feel him filling you with his warmth.

It’s a while before either of you say anything.

Namjoon curls an arm around you, kisses the top of your head.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

You run your fingers over his bruised knuckles.

Eventually you say, ‘I was a little scared.’

He sighs. ‘I know. I never want to see that again. Tell me to shut up next time.’

He nuzzles under your ear.

‘You know I’d never hurt you like that, don’t you?’ he asks.

In your heart of hearts you do know.

You want to tell him that, but what comes out when you open your mouth is, ‘are you gonna fix the wall?’

‘Yeah, promise,’ he says.

He pulls you under him, seals it with a kiss.

©hamsterclaw 2023

#bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut

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radiantteacup · 9 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐌-𝐖𝐄𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐘!

༊*·˚ When you chose a major like Aerospace Engineering you imagined it would be challenging but nothing had prepared you for how arduous it truly is, luckily your sweet boyfriend is there to comfort you!

˗ˏˋFeaturing ´ˎ˗ Akaashi Keiji, Sugawara Koushi, Daichi Sawamura, Iwaizumi Hajime, Kuroo tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Osamu Miya.

˗ˏˋWarnings ´ˎ˗ Strong language, Lashing out

God, this was exhausting.

You'd been slaving over your 16 page Aerospace Engineering final essay for hours, getting practically no where. What in the hell had made you think Aerospace Engineering was the way to go?

You're close to tears at this point as you flip through your worn out, second hand copy of The Merriam-Webster Dictionary. Your professor had given a very circumlocutory speech about how "1st grade level vocabulary just wasn't going to cut it in his class."

So now you're here, sitting in a fluffy bear onesie, at your desk, at 2am, using words like circumlocutory instead of being with your boyfriend, asleep in the bed behind you.

Glancing back at your unconscious lover you can't help the worn out smile that crawls its way onto your lips. You guess not even exhaustion could fend off your adulation for the handsome boy.

You sigh, turning back to the laptop screen sitting on the desk in front of you. The suddenly resplendent glow of the screen was giving you ineffable headache which suddenly sparked rage within you.

I can't fucking stand this anymore.

Abruptly standing up from where you'd been seated for what felt like a millennia, you slam the laptop closed and shove the dictionary off the desk. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to force back the tears that sting your eyes, resting your trembling hands on the wooden desk.

Despite your best efforts, droplets of water come cascading down your cheeks just moments later. The frustration that had been bubbling in your chest was starting to suffocate you in your own rage.

"Babe?"

The sound of his voice breaks your trance of monotonous anger.

"What now?"

You spoke with breviloquence, the raised tone of your voice irritatingly telling of your current predicament.

Rather than answering, he slides out of the bed, quietly making his way to you. You can hear him grunt as he steps over your chair which had fallen over when you shoved yourself out of it.

"What's wrong baby?"

His voice is soft in your ear, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against his chest.

"I-"

Your voice breaks, the tightness in your throat stealing your words; You hang your head, bringing your hands to cover your mouth as you try to hold back the sobs that broke from between your lips.

I'm so fucking tired.

Your barely register the feeling of him turning you around in his arms, holding your head against his chest, but it slams open the last flood gate that blocked your tears as you break down in his warm embrace.

You faintly hear the way he hums in your ear, rocking the two of you side to side. You try to focus on it, on the pitchy mumbles of London Bridge is Falling Down while your breathing begins to even out.

When the tears stop falling, he brings his hand up to cup your cheeks, angling your face to look at him.

"Can you tell what's wrong now baby?"

The gentle murmur of his voice almost makes you want to cry again.

"This stupid fucking professor expects us to write a 16 page essay using meritorious vocabulary words like fucking Consangeneous."

"When is it supposed to be due?"

"Next Wednesday."

"Then come to bed, it's only Thursday, honey."

You want to refuse, to insist you stay up and keep working, but even imagining opening that laptop again makes you want to cry, so you oblige and follow him to bed.

When the two of you are finally beneath the covers, holding one another you can hear him whisper softly in your ear.

"You're doing so well my love, so just relax for now."

A/n: Tbh I wrote this because I've been preparing to go back to school and needed an excuse to test out new vocab words. You may see a lot of grandiose words in my next few works. :p

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vulturejuice · 10 months

Text

[Image ID: A 13-panel comic which depicts two furry characters, a cougar and a stoat, in an argument about political lesbianism. It is coloured in the palette of the lesbian flag, with the cougar in pink colours and the stoat in orange colours. End ID]

This is a comic I made last December as a final project for a Communication and Sexuality class! It was super fun to get to use my OCs for a school project and the research for it was super interesting and meaningful to me as a lesbian myself.

A full transcript of the comic, as well as a list of citations, is available below the cut!

Transcript and image descriptions:

Panel 1: The cougar sits in a chair reading a book.

Panel 2: The cougar turns a page and the stoat enters the frame without the cougar noticing.

Panel 3: The stoat speaks very close to the cougar’s face, startling her. Stoat: “Whatcha readin’?” Cougar: GAH!

Panel 4: The cougar holds the book up to the camera, revealing the phrase “POLITICAL LESBIANISM” on its cover. The stoat looks at it with her hand on her chin. Cougar: Oh... I was just reading this book about POLITICAL LESBIANISM Stoat: Oh hm

Panel 5: The cougar reads from a stack of papers. The stoat puts her hand to her cheek and closes her eyes. A thought bubble comes from the stoat which depicts women standing in a circle holding hands while two men look on angrily. Stoat: That’s that thing from like the 80s, right? Where feminists thought all women should be lesbians? Cougar: Yeah, the Leeds Revolutionary Feminists put out a paper detailing as much in 1979.

Panel 6: The cougar shrugs, holding the papers out towards the stoat. The stoat grabs for them excitedly. Cougar: Basically, anyone who associated with men was the enemy! Stoat: Hey, sounds good to me! Who needs ‘em, right?

Panel 7: The cougar puts her hands on her hips and glares at the stoat. The stoat holds the papers and frowns. Cougar: Oh, come on! Gender essentialist much? Not to mention their focus on the penis as a tool of oppression... Where does that leave pre- and non-op trans women?

Panel 8: The stoat’s eyes widen and she points at the paper. The cougar throws up one hand in exasperation. Stoat: Wait! It says here that a political lesbian is a “woman-identified woman.” Shouldn’t that include trans women? Cougar: Not what that means!

Panel 9: The cougar turns to the camera and raises her finger in the air. She pulls a new stack of papers up from outside the panel. The stoat looks between the papers she is holding and the new papers in confusion. Cougar: In their 1970 manifesto, the Radicalesbians ask that women craft our own identities by relating to each other, not men’s ideas of what we should be. They’re not really talking about gender identity the way we do today.

Panel 10: The stoat puts her hands on her hips and throws her head back, holding her papers to her side. The cougar puts out her hands in protest, and the papers she’s holding fall. Stoat: Right. I guess you think everyone was transphobic back then. Cougar: Hey, I never said that!

Panel 11: The cougar lifts up a small record and smiles down at it. The stoat glares at it as she tucks her papers under her arm. Cougar: Take the radical feminist lesbian separatist music collective, Olivia Records! They supported and even bodily defended their trans sound engineer, Sandy Stone, when her role at the collective was questioned and she was threatened with transphobic violence.

Panel 12: The stoat crosses her arms and tries to interject. The cougar keeps talking as she throws the record away behind herself. Stoat: Sure, but- Cougar: No, it’s so-called gender critical feminists who spit in the face of trans women’s contributions to our rich lesbian history. Our love of women and rejection of prescribed sex roles is what brings us together - not out hatred of men!

Panel 13: The stoat turns away from the cougar in anger. The cougar smiles and puts a hand on the stoat’s corner. Stoat: Oh, whatever! I don’t want to talk about it anymore if you’re just going to tell me I’m wrong all the time. Cougar: Look at it this way... we’re just taking part in the storied lesbian tradition of pointless arguing!

Citations

Ahmed, S. (2016). An affinity of hammers. TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly, 3(1-2), 22-34. https://doi.org/10.1215/23289252-3334151

Enszer, J. R. (2016). “How to stop choking to death”: Rethinking lesbian separatism as a vibrant political theory and feminist practice. Journal of Lesbian Studies, 20(2), 180-196. https://doi.org/10.1080/10894160.2015.1083815

Love your enemy? The debate between heterosexual feminism and political lesbianism. (1981). Onlywomen Press.

O’Donnell, K. (2019). The theological basis for trans-exclusionary radical feminist positions. In N. Banerjea, K. Browne, E. Ferreira, M. Olasik, & J. Podmore (Eds.), Lesbian feminism: Essays opposing global heteropatriarchies. Bloomsbury Academic & Professional.

Thurlow, C. (2022). From TERF to gender critical: A telling genealogy? Sexualities. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1177/13634607221107827

Weiss, P. A. (Ed.). (2018). Feminist manifestos: A global documentary reader. New York University Press.

Williams, C. (2016). Radical inclusion: Recounting the trans inclusive history of radical feminism. TSQ: Transgender Studies Quarterly, 3(1-2), 254-258. https://doi.org/10.1215/23289252-3334463

#repost #furry #furry art #lesbian #lesbian history #xenon art

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ebullientheart · 9 months

Text

back to you. aaron hotchner x reader

content — hurt/comfort. arguing. alcohol. drunk!reader. bau!reader. fem!reader. fluff. best friend emily. requested.

aaron drives to pick you up after a fight.

working at the bau left little time for romantic partnerships. hotch knew that, it’s what ended his first marriage. when the both of you were employed there, however, it was slightly different. less lonely. but the time you had off the job was real time together, time to be a family and act unprofessionally. and sometimes, real families spend their real time together arguing. it happens.

“i am trying not to yell, but you are not listening to me, aaron!” you hissed, shoving your phone and keys into your pocket.

his frustration dissipated only slightly as he asked, “where are you going?”

“emily’s. i’ll text you when i’m there.” you huffed and shut the door. it wasn’t slammed, out of respect for your building, but mentally you took it off the hinges and he could feel that energy clearly.

true to your word and commitment to safety, you text him when you got into emily’s car. he didn’t answer, but you knew he saw it. she winced as you shut her door with a bit too much force, earning herself a sincere apology from you as all the fight left your bones. she looked sympathetic as she said, “that bad, huh?”

“don’t think we’ve ever had one like it. we’ve never been so… childish.” you admitted, twisting your fingers anxiously.

“do you want to talk about it?”

“i’m not feeling emotionally vulnerable enough. maybe after a drink.”

she snorted, “well, childish problems require… immature solutions.”

she turned her car away from the road leading to her apartment, instead pulling up to a bar and cutting the engine there. despite yourself, you smirked, “immature solutions.”

“shots.” she said, like ‘duh’.

you accepted it, still feeling ‘immature’ enough to do at least four with her before the guilt began to settle in. but you had to admit, you were having fun with your friend, and the stress was on the back burner. the two of you danced like people much younger than yourselves, giggling maniacally in a very atypical fashion. any men that approached you were met steadily with four middle fingers. unless it was the bartender, who was met with “two more!”

you were too giddy to note that emily had stopped at her first, just to keep an eye on you. and to make sure she was in a fit state to drive, two hours after your arrival.

eventually though, you began to register how sticky your hands were from the bar. your jacket was sticking to your arms from the sweat. your anger at aaron was rolling back in waves, unsettling the hair on your arms, and you were responsible enough to acknowledge that the fun was coming to a close. emily noticed too, smiling at you, “done?”

you laughed, “i think so.”

“c’mon, let’s call hotch.”

you stopped laughing as she let you lean on her for support, both of you leaving the bar into the cold night. you instantly shivered, the wind immediately turning your damp skin frozen, and complained, “i’m mad at aaron, though.”

emily patted the side of your head affectionately, “you’ve been asking for him for the last twenty minutes.”

with an eye roll, you murmured, “i’m still mad.”

your best friend was startled at the sudden tears on your waterline, “but i love him. is he coming here?”

she pulled your phone from your pocket and handed it to you, prompting you kindly, “ring him.”

you blinked and accepted, almost dropping your cell to the mercy of the concrete. she laughed, guiding the two of you to a bench nearby and glaring at a creep before he had to chance to approach. he scuttled.

trying not to slur as he picked up on the third ring and not the first, “aaron?”

“pass the phone to emily.”

defiantly, remembering your argument, you put him on speaker instead, as though this was the ultimate act of rebellion. after a beat, he deadpanned, “prentiss, you took her drinking?”

you put a finger over her lips before she could answer, all but whining, “don’t ignore me.”

emily lightly removed your hand from her mouth, “i’m bringing her home.”

you heard mumbling and a disgruntled sigh, before, “no, i’m coming. text me the location, prentiss.”

he hung up and you pouted, “why didn’t he ask me to text him?”

she decided as a courtesy to not point out your intoxication would prevent you from typing coherently, resorting to another head pat. you were still pouting all too dramatically when a familiar car pulled up, and aaron emerged from the driver’s side. he strode over to you with a set, stern face. emily kissed your cheek before departing, whispering something about emotional vulnerability, but you were too drunk to remember your earlier statement.

during the night, you’d spilled details of the argument to emily, and while the blame was to be shared equally, she was your best friend, and she still cocked a brow at hotch before getting into her own car.

“drive safe.” he muttered, replacing her spot next to you on the bench. you, at this point, looked incredibly disheveled. aaron thought you looked as beautiful as ever, and if you were sober, you would’ve seen that fondness in his eyes. but you weren’t, and all you were thinking about was his attitude on the phone, so you shifted away from him.

he looked pained as his hand twitched towards yours, the closest to reaching out he could manage, and he tried to coax you back over to him, “are you still angry about our fight?”

his voice was soft, and it reminded you that you weren’t. you hadn’t really been since getting in emily’s car, everything else just residual effects from too much tequila. you frowned, sounding petulant and not at all your age, “no, i guess not.”

“can we go home and talk?” aaron handed you a bottle of water you downed, beginning to feel more like yourself. in that action, he wrapped his palm around yours, encouraged when you didn’t pull away.

you finally moved over to him and he released a breath, “i’m sorry for being childish.”

“i’m sorry for pushing you to that.”

it wasn’t all sunny again, you both knew at some point you’d have to talk about the root of the issue. you also both knew that point would be tomorrow morning, because your head was beginning to droop against his shoulder.

you shamelessly inhaled against his shirt, missing every sense he provided you with since you’d stormed out, and said, “i didn’t say i love you before i left.”

“no, you didn’t.” he admitted, and the way he sagged minimally told you that you weren’t the only one who’d been thinking about that.

he pulled you back as he felt tears wet the fabric of his top, practically aching as you clumsily reached for his face, “i love you. a lot.”

aaron swiped them from your cheeks, not bothering to tell you that you didn’t need to cry, because he knew it would only spur it further. he learnt that lesson a while back.

“i love you too, honey. home?”

though you were coming round, your steps were uneven enough to have him almost fully supporting you as you walked the very short distance to his car, which was definitely not parked where it should be. once he was sure your seatbelt was on, he drove off, and you weren’t paying any attention until you got into bed.

for the first time since, you realised he wasn’t next to you, and you shot up like a bolt, anxiously calling his name. he re-entered the room with water and tylenol, which he placed on your nightstand, answering, “i’m here, it’s okay.”

only when he settled down on the other side of the bed did you stop moving your hands, a nervous habit he recognised. even when it ceased, he covered both your hands with one of his. he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to hear when he said, “i was scared you weren’t going to come back.”

you twisted into him, and on reflex he wrapped an arm around your waist, “i shouldn’t have left. but i will always come back to you, aaron.”

#🤍ebullientheart #aaron hotchner #bau!reader #fluff #aaron hotchner x reader hurt/comfort #aaron hotchner hurt comfort #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch x reader hurt/comfort #aaron hotch hurt/comfort #htc #aaron hotchner htc #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #tw alcohol #platonic!emily prentiss

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isaactheterrible · 1 year

Text

TF2 Mercs Yandere Version

Trigger Warning: Violence, Abusive Behavior, Stalking

(Disclaimer: This is based on the TF2 comics and the personalities of the mercs in them, this is what I kind yandere I personally think the mercs would be. Gender neutral reader)

1.Medic

-Obssessive medical yandere

-100% will kidnap you

-Will probably spend years studying you

-Vivisecting you, dismembering you, pulling you apart and putting you back together, learning everything about you

-You're his special interest he loves spending hours studying and memorizing everything there is to know about you

-Probably the most awful and dangerous out of all them, has no regard for your feelings or safety after all if you die he can just put you back together

2.Scout

-Delusional yandere

-He knows the two of you are meant to be and hey! You are probably already together, you're just taking things slow that's all he's sure of it

-Buys little items that remind him of you such as the same shampoo as you

-Obsessed with chivalry, keeps insisting that he pay for you despite him not always having the funds to do so, insists you wear his jacket even if he's freezing his balls off ect

-Gets jealous easily due to how insecure he is

-He keeps acting like the two of you are dating but won't cross your physical boundaries

-Would never hurt you physically but he will completely break down if you get with someone else

-Takes him days to get out of his depression room, he has convinced himself you'll choose him eventually

-Not that dangerous, at most he'll get into a fistfight with your S/O in a Wendy's parking lot

3.Demoman

-Two-faced yandere

-He fell for you the moment he saw you, he just knew you were the one

-Tries to befriend you at first but almost immediately introduces you to his mother, the two of you need to get along otherwise it's a deal breaker

-If you passed the test he's already planning your wedding and future

-He does his best to clean up his act and be the ideal image of the perfect man and future husband to you

-He doesn't steal from you or violate your boundaries but he will solve any "problems" that might get between you too

-He will kill anyone that threatens your perfect life, serial killer on the side

-He trust you because he loves you but it's best that you never betray that trust

-Not that dangerous for you but extremely dangerous to everyone around you

4.Heavy

-Overly protective yandere

-He will kidnap you and force you to live in a cold cabin in Siberia in the middle of nowhere

-For your own good of course, he has tons of enemies and he needs to keep you safe, the world can't know of your existence

-You could try to run but there's nowhere to go, nothing but cold and snow for kilometers around

-You are stuck there essentially forever cause he doesn't believe you can actually protect yourself without him

-Incredibly boring, all that exists is cold and books and we'll him

-You are slowly going insane in the place

-Very dangerous yandere, he won't kill you but you'll end up chained for years potentially if you try to leave, why can't you just understand he wants to protect you?

5.Pyro

-Codepended Nightmare

-You will never be alone again, clingiest MF

-Good thing is that they don't need that much attention, just being around you and maybe napping on your shoulder is enough

-You're one of the only things that bring them joy

-Will draw you a lot and give you lots of little trinkets and gifts

-If you force them to go in a different room they'll sit outside the door waiting for you

-Not that jealous or possessive will be happy to have other people around

-Might hurt you out of pain and anger if you try to leave

-Pretty dangerous to both you and your safety

6.Engineer

-Possessive Yandere

-He has strong abandonment uses and is convinced you'll leave him for someone else if you ever get that chance

-Will isolate you and sabotage your relationships, at first from anyone he sees as competition and then everyone else as well

-He doesn't do it from a place of wanting to own you but from a place of insecurity

-Might kidnap you if you try to leave but only as a last resort, he really doesn't want to hurt you but he'd rather do it than be alone again

-Very dangerous mostly cause he prioritizes his desire for companionship over your right to freedom

7.Soldier

-Absolute nutcase and menace to society

-He fell in love with you, congratulations you're technically married now!

-You are pretty much stuck with him, you two are joined at the hip with him ranting about whatever to you

-Would do ANYTHING for you, except leave you alone of course

-Not at all jealous and pretty chill about your obvious discomfort and escape attempts

-He can't and won't listen to reason, he's too far gone

-Not particularly pushy but very volatile

-That being said he's still incredibly dangerous

8.Spy

-Controlling ass mf

-On the positive side you will be showered in gifts and luxuries

-On the negative side you get to choose pretty much nothing about your life

-You have an image to maintain so your friends, your clothing, your food, the places you go to are all completely out of your control

-You will probably quickly lose your sanity and if you do you will be shipped off to the highest quality glorified re-education mental hospital

-The doctors aren't here to help you their here to make you more obedient

-Run away as far as you can but he'll always find you, he's a danger to you and all your loved ones, willing to destroy you if it means controlling you

9.Sniper

-Stalker

-Has entire folders and USB sticks dedicated to you

-Knows your social security number by heart, your current location, your address, your friends, any dangerous people in your area, EVERYTHING

-Watches from afar helping here and there like a guardian angel

-Has put cameras and voice recording devices in your house

-He doesn't collect memorabilia such as t-shirts or other forgotten items

-He does take a lot of pictures and his room is a bit of a messy shrine to you

-Absolutely shook if you approach him first, it's just too much for him he's experiencing too much emotion and might hide away out of embarrassment

-Not that dangerous as he has no interest in intervening with your life unless it's about your safety

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ohara-n-brown · 2 years

Text

In Good Hands - Lemon & Tangerine x Reader HCs

Scenario: Congratulations! You’ve securied yourself one of the most lucrative and pain-staking jobs that the soft criminal underbelly of the world has to offer:

You are now the sole handler of the world’s most deadly ‘Twins’

(Lemon and Tangerine HCs with a heaping side of Tangerine x Reader)

- Enjoy! ________________________________________________

Codename: Clementine. Officially, on paper, it’s Clementine. Lemon came up with this.

Actual Codename: Peaches. Tangerine came up with this. They bicker endlessly about what your codename should be, with Tangerine alternating between things like ‘Peaches’, ‘Cherry’, ‘Lychee’, etc. often

But whatever the Codename, it doesn’t matter. Because when it comes time to get down and dirty and spill a little blood, you were either a wire in their ear or one phone call away

Your job is an endless balance of Tangerine’s anger management and making sure Lemon has a new sticker sheet for each day

You make the plans

And they never follow the plans. You have to listen in on them absolutely butcher your plans - no pun intended. And then they wonder why the job ended up so bloody

You and Lemon were inseparable from the beginning, and half of the time it’s you two pissing off Tangerine and outvoting him every time

Just because it’s funny, at least Lemon thinks so

But Tangerine gets to return the favor every time you and him flirt over the wire and earpieces

Lemon and you have absolutely binged Thomas & Friends. You thought it’s be boring at first, but the two of you have drinks and he breaks down his character studies and now you kinda get it

When you don’t understand his Thomas metaphors though, Lemon tries to describe it to you in your own childhood interests. If you grew up watching Dora, or Lazytown, or reading HP, he’d absolutely study it and try to explain it like that

Lemon being so protective over you. He considers you a Thomas (and you probably have a Thomas sticker in your favorite places), so any sly word or lingering glance passed your way is sure to irk the hell out of him

Especially when that ‘lingering glance’ comes from Tangerine

Honestly, Tangerine takes you a bit more to warm up to

He’s as charming as he is cunning, but so is every other professional killer out there. It’s what they do.

But you later learn that Tangerine is just as sweet as the name implies, once you get his walls down as well

In the beginning you two try to keep it under wraps. Of course the man who wears a suit to a massacre would want to be ‘pRoFeSsIoNaL’ about dating his handler but after a certain point that just goes out the window

You constantly wear his chain when you aren’t together, just for ‘safe keeping’ (and because he loves to see you in it)

His definition of ‘down time’ is high-class dates and mixed drinks or at the safehouse planning the next gig

But sometimes you manage to convince him to slow down

VERY well traveled man Tangerine probably speaks like 6 languages and knows how to curse in every fucking one of them

Getting lost in cities with you and just enjoying being out is like the only time he’s not twenty seconds from being pissed off.

Theres a life-size Thomas Tank Engine you can ride in Shizuoka Prefecture (no, really) and you and Lemon drag him on it like ten times

And even though he grumbles the whole way it’s one of the best days he’s had in years

In short, the three of y’all are fucking blood-thirsty nutcases.

But also a three-person army and a big happy family

And even if Lemon wants to wring his neck every time the two of you flirt in the middle of a mission, of all people he’s happy you ended up with someone as good as his brother

_________________________________________ A/N: I wrote this to fight off the impending dread I feel when I realize there will probably never be a Bullet Train 2 :)))))

Also I haven’t written a scenario or x-reader in literally half a decade and I saw the movie once so if its OOC no it aint anyway hope you liked it bye

#bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet Train lemon #atj #aaron taylor johnson #brian tyree henry #tangerine and lemon #lemon and tangerine

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month

Text

Not Me: Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @thiashazzywriting @words-and-seeds @novamariestark @whateversomethingbruh @trublu2u @stelacole @kmc1989

It’s not the ex boyfriends Nik worries about, it’s the girlfriends. He knows what he’s completing with when it comes to other men, women are a completely different ballgame. The relationships they’re much more intimate.

When the two of you run into Marina, the girl you were with before him, Nik knows she’s still in love with you. It’s in the way she looks at you, touches you, kisses you. It riles him more than he cares to admit because she treats him like a bystander, as if he wasn’t just holding your hand thirty seconds ago.

She’s just affectionate, you say when he tries to address it later.

She wants to fuck you, is what he grumbles back.

You flick cold water into his face because you’ve just washed your hands and you think he’s being facetious.

Nik can doesn’t need a crystal ball to see what happens next, in fact Marina makes sure he has a front seat when she sees the car pulling up and kisses you. There’s a sensuality to it, her palm comes to rest on the nape of your neck as her thumb chases over the line of your jaw. You don’t pull away and that’s the thing that gets Nik.

Marina represents everything you could have if you weren’t with him. Stability, a person to come home to, someone who cares for you, who can be there for you. That’s what he sees when he looks at Marina.

He doesn’t say a word when you get in the car. The silence it hangs like a weight around his neck as he starts the engine and begins the journey home.

“I’m gonna go back to hotel tonight.” He says, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his hands dripping the steering wheel. “I have an early flight in the morning.”

“Nik...” You began but he shakes his head.

“Don’t.” He says sharply.

“Nik, don’t do this to me, don’t shut me out.”

“Get out of the car.” He snaps at you.

“Nik…” You try again. “Alana, just get out the fucking car.”

You take the keys instead.

The engine cuts out and he feels that anger dissipate along with it because the thing is he’s not really mad at you, or Marina, he’s mad at himself because he can’t give you what you deserve and that’s becoming clearer everytime he makes the trip back to LA.

“I can’t love anybody else.” You say into the silence. “If you do this right now, if you leave me you won’t be doing me a favour. You’re doing yourself one. You’ll go back to being Sabatino but maybe that’s what you want, because it’s easier than tearing yourself apart every time you have to leave.”

That’s the real issue. It isn’t that Marina kissed you, that she’d be good for you, it’s the fact that he keeps leaving and every single time he does a little piece of him dies. He worries that a little piece of you does too.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you.” He says quietly. “But I don’t know any other way to do this. I love you but I can’t see a world in which this works out for the both of us.”

He trails off, tilting his head towards you.

“I think it’s time to pull the ripcord on this thing before we do anymore damage to each other.”

You press the car keys into his hand, the jagged edges scrap against his palm as he grips them in his fist.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snarl, kicking open the passenger side door. “When you’re lying alone in your bunk in Syria or Iraq or wherever the hell they send you just remember you’re the one that gave up on us. Not me.”

Love Nik? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

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#vostanik sabatino #vostanik sabatino x reader #vostanik sabatino x you #nik sabatino #nik sabatino x reader #nik sabatino x you #sabatino #sabatino x reader #sabatino x you #ncis los angeles #ncis la

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Twenty Five

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!!

As always, thank you so much for the love on this fic! This chapter is another heavy one, but I promise I'll be nicer to them in the next chapter.

Please let me know what you think, your reactions genuinely mean the world to me!

-x-

Words: 3.3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along. Please note that more warnings have been added.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The car journey to her mother’s house is silent.

Aaron keeps looking at Emily as he drives, his eyes continually flashing towards her as she stares out the window, one hand up by her mouth as she bites her cuticles, and the other on her stomach, subconsciously protecting their unborn child. In the week since she told him about Elizabeth’s relapse, he’d caught Emily looking at and touching her small bump even more than usual, as if the new cracks in her relationship with her mother made her think of her own journey to motherhood. He was worried about her but was trying not to push her, well aware that she often processed these things by herself.

It was only the night before when she’d said she wanted to go speak to her mother. She’d thought about calling her or trying to arrange another dinner, but they both knew it was unlikely Elizabeth would see it through, leaving them with no choice but to just show up.

“We’ve never had the kind of relationship where I drop by unannounced,” Emily says as they pull into Elizabeth’s driveway as if she could read his mind, “I’ve often wondered what that would be like.”

He chuckles humourlessly as he turns off the engine, “I never had that with my parents either,” he admits, he looks her up and down and he reaches over to touch her stomach, “Things will be different with Jack and this one though,” he assures her, pleased when it draws what feels like the first genuine smile from her in days.

“We’ll always make sure we have their favourite snacks in the pantry, just in case,” she says, her chest warm just at the thought of it. She looks back out the window at the house that had never felt like home and she blows out a breath, her heart dropping into her stomach.

He notices the change in her demeanour, the brief flash of her peeking through gone as soon as it appeared, and he sighs, fury at his soon-to-be mother-in-law licking at his insides. He pushes it down, knowing what Emily needed right now was his love for her, not his anger.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he says, his hand drifting from her stomach to gently squeeze her thigh, “I can just take us home.”

Emily smiles at him and places her hand over his, linking their fingers together, “It’s not going to get any easier whether we do it today or next week,” she shrugs half-heartedly, “We should just get it over with.”

Aaron knew it was her decision, that it was her mother and their complicated history on the line, so even though every instinct in his body was telling him to protect her from this he knew she wouldn’t thank him for it. He watches her carefully, looking for even the slightest sign that she wasn’t sure about doing this, well aware that if he found it he’d turn the car's engine back on and drive her home.

He leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek, “Ok, sweetheart.”

He moves to pull away, to press the button to release his seatbelt, but she stops him, her hand tight around his, “Please don’t…” she drifts off, hesitating because she doesn’t want to sound desperate. Her first instinct even after all her time with Aaron was to shy away from help, to turn in on herself, no matter how much she wanted him with her. She clears her throat and smiles tightly at him, “Just don’t leave my side, ok?”

Aaron smiles at her and lifts their joint hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles, “Of course, I won’t,” he kisses her hand again before releasing it, “It’s my favourite place to be.”

She shakes her head at him, but he’s out of the car before she can gently chastise him and he opens her door before she can even unbuckle her seatbelt. She links their fingers together as soon as she’s standing and tugs him in for a kiss, squeezing his hand when they pull back.

“I love you so much.”

He gently guides her towards the front door of her mother’s house, “I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m here no matter what happens.”

She smiles gratefully at him and blows out a steady breath before she rings the doorbell. It only takes a few seconds for the door to be answered, and they make polite conversation with Elizabeth’s housekeeper who goes to find her for them. As they stand waiting in the foyer of the house she had lived in when they were in the USA, Emily can’t help but look around, the space almost foreign to her. There were no photos on the walls, no evidence that a family had ever lived there. She knew there were photos of her in her mother’s office, hidden away from public view much like Elizabeth’s love for her had always been, but that didn’t make her feel any better.

Sometimes, she wondered why her parents had her at all, whether she was merely the result of them doing what was expected of them.

“Emily, Aaron,” Elizabeth says as she walks towards them, “This is a surprise.”

Emily looks at her, critically looking her up and down to look for physical evidence that she had been drinking, “Well, you kept cancelling so I felt like I had no choice but to just show up,” Emily explains.

“Emily, you look…healthy,” Elizabeth says, and Emily has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She knew her mother well enough to know what that meant, similar comments throughout her teenage years still ringing in her head every time she tried on a new pair of jeans even all these years later.

“Well, I am pregnant, Mother,” she replies, watching as her mother’s eyes flash with something a little too close to surprise as she looks her up and down. She feels anger spark in her belly, irritation she knows won’t help as she realises her mother didn’t remember she was going to be a grandmother, and she knows it means her mother would have been drinking when they had that conversation. The sadness she feels, the grief for a relationship she would never get to have with her mother, stokes the fire that had been burning inside of her, making her sigh, “I told you on the phone weeks ago.”

Aaron puts his arm around Emily at the sound of resignation in her voice, squeezing her hip to remind her that he was there, that he always would be.

“Emily wanted to talk to you about something important, it’s why we didn’t call first,” Aaron says, encouraging the conversation forward.

Elizabeth nods, recovering quickly as she smiles at her daughter in a way Emily had seen at countless parties and events.

“Of course,” Elizabeth says as she leads them to the living room. She takes a seat in her armchair, and Emily and Aaron follow suit - sitting together on the couch, “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Emily is grateful that Aaron is sitting right next to her, their thighs pressed together on the couch, and for the calming presence he always seemed to have over her. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me,” she says, sounding more sure than she felt.

“Well, spit it out, Emily,” Elizabeth says, her eyebrow raised, “It’s not like you to mince your words.”

Emily takes a steady breath and clears her throat, giving herself a moment before she once again changes her relationship with her mother, “Are you drinking again?”

The silence that settles over them is thick and uncomfortable as mother and daughter stare at each other, the history they never spoke about unravelling around them. Elizabeth takes a moment before she fixes a smile on her face. To anyone else they wouldn’t see the momentary panic she pushes down, the way her eyes widen ever so slightly, but Emily sees it. They were things she did herself when she felt backed into a corner.

Things she did when she was lying.

“No, of course not,” Elizabeth replies, her shoulders getting tighter as she sits up straighter, her eyes flicking back and forth between Emily and Aaron, “How could you ask me that?”

Emily shakes her head, closing her eyes as she blows out a breath before she carries on, “Dave Rossi saw you drinking wine at an FBI fundraiser two weeks ago.”

Elizabeth sighs, her facade cracking, “Can we talk about this alone?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron says, his voice sterner than he intends it to be, and Emily places her hand on his leg, a silent request to leave it to her.

“Aaron knows everything, Mother.”

Elizabeth looks furious as she looks at her daughter, “You told him my personal business?”

“It’s my business too,” she replies, scoffing, “And funnily enough he has seen the scar.” She doesn’t feel the need to explain that she’d told Aaron about this before they even got together. His presence comforting to her even then, something she now knew was love stitching them together before either of them could admit it. “You’re drinking again,” she says, not phrasing it as a question this time, “Please don’t lie to me.”

Elizabeth stares at her for a moment before she settles back into her chair, “Fine, yes,” she admits, and a breath escapes Emily, harsh and painful as it catches on every rib on its way out, “But it’s not a big deal, I have it under control.”

“Not a big deal?” Emily exclaims, her control of her emotions waning, the situation she had feared for years combined with her hormones making her feel on edge, “Mom, you’re an alcoholic.”

She hates that she feels like a kid again, like the 17-year-old who once found her mother passed out in her office, an empty bottle of liquor in the trashcan next to her desk. She tightens her grip on Aaron’s leg, her nails digging into his skin through his jeans as she desperately tries to hold onto something to keep her grounded.

Elizabeth chuckles, “Emily, please, you’ve always been so dramatic.”

Aaron sits forward, ready to defend her, but Emily moves her hand to his chest, holding him in place, “Dramatic? I donated you some of my liver,” she says through her teeth, her eyes wide, “You…you said you’d never drink again.”

She watches as her mother sighs, rolling her eyes, “You always have to bring that up, don’t you?”

It’s as if she feels everything all at once. Every disappointment. Every missed dance show or piano recital. She sees the empty seats at high school and college graduations and the confusion on her classmate's faces. She hears the chastisements and criticisms she had grown up with when all she wanted was love and encouragement, causing her to seek it elsewhere in places that had only done her even more harm. She feels all the sadness she hadn’t allowed herself to feel when she gave up everything to help her mother without so much as an actual thank you in response.

Mostly, she feels the anger she had never acknowledged, overwhelming as it takes over and forces her to stand up, her control over her body and brain no longer her own.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She asks, shaking off Aaron as he stands up too, his arm around her shoulder.

“Emily, really-”

She cuts off her mother as she continues, unable to stop now she had started, “We never talk about it. I’ve never brought it up again even though every time I look in the mirror I’m reminded of it. Of what I sacrificed to save you,” she feels tears burning down her cheeks, her fury taking a physical form, “And the fucked up thing is, I’d do it again because you’re my mother and I love you,” she shakes her head and wipes her cheeks, the heels of her hands rough against her skin, “But I can’t do this, I can’t sit back and watch you destroy yourself and everyone around you. Not now. I won’t put myself or my children through it.”

Elizabeth stands up, “Emily-”

“No,” she says cutting her mother off, “No. I’m done. If you decide you want to stop and you want help I will be there to help you find it, but until then don’t call me because I won’t answer.”

She leaves the room without looking back, sure that if she did her tears would turn into gut-wrenching sobs she can feel building in her belly, pushing against her diaphragm and compressing her lungs. Aaron watches her go, his eyes fixed on her until she disappears, the sound of the front door slamming echoing around the house. He looks at Elizabeth and watches as she puts herself back together, eerily similar to how he’d seen Emily do it countless times.

“We both know she deserves better than that,” he says, unable to stop himself from saying something.

“Please don’t try and tell me about my daughter.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he walks towards the hallway, pausing as he makes it to Elizabeth’s side, “She’s the mother of my child, she’s going to be my wife, I love her enough to make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” he stares at her, his glare unrelenting, “Can you honestly say you do the same?” He watches as Elizabeth clenches her jaw, averting her gaze, “That’s what I thought.”

He walks away, desperate to find Emily, to make sure she was as ok as she could be, but he’s stopped in his tracks.

“Aaron-”

“I’ll look after her,” he says, not turning back, “I’ll look after them,” he adds, referencing the grandchild she hadn’t remembered existed, and he carries on talking as he walks away, calling over his shoulder, “It’s what they deserve.”

___

The journey home is filled with her tears. A grim soundtrack he’d rather never hear again, his hand in hers the entire way. She asks to be alone when they get home and, despite his own desire to keep her close, he lets her go upstairs by herself and keeps himself busy in the kitchen, making her dinner he knows he’s going to have to convince her to eat.

A couple of hours pass by before she heads back downstairs, the outfit she’d worn to her mother’s switched to a large t-shirt of his and a pair of shorts.

“I’d ask how you are,” he says, rounding the kitchen counter to pull her into a hug, something she returns gratefully, “But that seems like a stupid question.”

She chuckles half-heartedly into his chest, “I was expecting this to potentially be an outcome but…I didn’t want it to go this way.”

“I know, baby,” he says, kissing the top of her head before he pulls back to make her look at him, “Want to talk about it?”

She nods, and links her arm through his as they walk the short distance to the couch. They snuggle up together and she leans against him, her face pressing into his shoulder to heave in his smell, his cologne no longer turning her stomach as it had in her first trimester.

“She forgot I’m pregnant, Aaron,” she says quietly, shaking her head in disbelief, “How do you forget something like that?” Aaron knows there isn’t anything he can do to make her feel any better, that there is no answer to her question, so he just lets her carry on, lets her put into words what she would have spent her time upstairs thinking about. “She just…doesn’t seem to care. I haven’t even met our baby yet or felt them move, and I know I’d never…” she drifts off, her voice catching in her throat, “I’d never treat them, or Jack like that. Or speak to them like she spoke to me today.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” he says, placing his hand on her stomach, her bump hidden by his t-shirt.

“Why doesn’t she love me enough to not do this, Aaron?” She asks, linking their hands in his lap, “Why was I never enough?”

He pulls her closer until she’s all but in his lap, and he holds her tight, wishing he could make this better for her, that he could make Elizabeth see sense, “You are enough, and you know it’s not that simple sweetheart. Addiction is…messy.”

She hums at the oversimplification, but nods, grasping his hand tightly, “Thank you for today, I know it can’t have been easy because of everything with your father.”

He holds back a chuckle, knowing it would be inappropriate, brought on by her incessant empathy. Her need to look after the ones around her even when she was the one in pain.

“Like I said earlier, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right next to you,” he replies, turning to kiss her forehead.

“I’m going to need you to do something for me,” she says, idly playing with his fingers, measuring their size in comparison to hers.

“Anything,” he promises without knowing what it was, aware he would pull the stars from the sky if she asked for them.

“If she calls…if she tries to reach out before she is looking for help, I need you to keep me in check,” she says, looking up at him, “I can’t go back on my word with this otherwise she won’t ever get it.”

He nods, leaning in to kiss her before he answers, “Of course, whatever you want, sweetheart.” Her response is a smile and she rests her head back on his shoulder. They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he asks something that had been on his mind since they left Elizabeth’s house. “You said ‘my children’ when you were talking to her earlier,” he says carefully, trailing his hand up and down her arm, “You meant Jack too, didn’t you?”

She sits up, concerned that she’d overstepped in her moment of anger flooding through her. She’d always been clear about her place in Jack’s life. She loved him, and she knew she wouldn’t love her own baby any differently, but with how everything had been with Haley, especially with the rapid changes her and Aaron’s relationship had been through, she had always carefully chosen her words when describing their family.

“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Sweetheart, no,” he says, cupping her cheek as he cuts off the apology he doesn’t need or want, “That’s not why I said it. It’s nice. Jack is lucky to have another parent who loves him as much as you do.”

She bites the inside of her cheek to try and stop her smile, insecurity still bubbling in her chest. She couldn’t help but wonder if Haley would feel the same way, but she shakes it off for now, allowing herself a moment of kindness after so many days of heartache.

“Really?” She asks, her hand covering his on her cheek.

He nods, “Really. You’re a fantastic mom, Em. Our kids are lucky to have you.”

She chokes out a noise that she knows is more of a sob than a laugh, and she leans forward to kiss him, able to convey more with that than she would ever be able to do with words, before she settles back into his embrace.

She had grown up thinking her family was broken. Parents who didn’t particularly seem to care for her or each other, an absentee father and a mother whose priority was anything but her daughter. Despite that, and despite the fact she had never been taught she was worthy of better, of unconditional love, she had found it with the team, with Aaron and Jack and she would make sure she continued the pattern with her unborn child.

-x-

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