#“i wanna break his heart and be the one to stitch it up”

[enbysiriusblack]

get him back! is soooo a jily song btw.

[ghostbeam]

This is fueling amazing rinoz before bed fantasies btw if u even care

[messylustt]

nsfw touching drabble based on this writing prompt request

your breath caught the moment you saw his back stop. all your words, you wish you could swallow. the silence was almost strangling before his low voice decided to break it. “you wanna repeat that?”

you manage to simultaneously shake your head and nod. why were you nodding? you didn’t want to repeat what you had said. you had been angry. you are angry. maybe that’s why. miguel has slowly turned, his visible fangs and blood red eyes seeming more prominent as his shoulders flex.

his question still lingers in the air. he hadn’t seen you shake/nod your head. that was probably for the better. “is silence all i’m getting now?” miguel asks, voice still weighed heavy with tension.

you gulp. “do you want me to repeat it?” you quietly manage, because now he was nearing, your feet sliding back. and just as you feel gravity pull you down with a slip to your foot—the edge now scraping your sole — miguel’s hand grips around the middle of your suit. he’s holding you up by some material, his claws probably ruining the stitching.

“do you really think that i want to hear you repeat how i’m some fucking unfair, controlling, hypocritical bastard?” he sneers out the words. his face inches closer to yours as you hold your breath. “i’d love to hear those words come out your mouth again, cariño.”

at one point you thought you could feel the graze of his fang against your lower lip. but to be fair you’re fraction dazed by his proximity. blame it on that. delusions, because miguel would never—

his free hand harshly tilts your head up, your lips now most definitely brushing against his canines. “so you think i’m unfair?” miguel practically speaks to your mouth. his hand that is gripping your suit material is still making you lean slightly over the ledge, your hands now gripping his biceps, as your heart picks a quicker beat.

his hand on your chin slips down your waist. then your body jolts, his fingers having found a placement between your legs. “is this position unfair?” he inquires far too innocently. all your words are choked. “if i let go you’d fall. you’re reliant on me to keep you up…does that make me controlling?”

the pads of his fingers lightly graze back and forth over your covered pussy, making your breathing catch. “is me…touching you like this unfair?”

and through the slight shake of your body you manage a few words. “hypocrite. you forgot hypocrite.” your words are some what of a form of you trying to get your own back. to stand taller, despite the clear lean of your body.

miguel actually manages a chuckle. though it’s dipped in mocking and utter power. “of course. a hypocrite. because despite all of what i’m saying, and what i’m trying to prove…” he pauses, gaze flickering across your features, and then down to your slightly parted lips. “i want to hear you say how much you want me to touch you like this…”

your gaze slightly widens, as you meet his red, now determined eyes. “what?”

“so you were right. i am a fucking unfair, controlling, hypocritical bastard.” miguel’s breath is now fanning over your mouth, as he tugs you closer. “and i’ll show you just how much that title suits me.”

[turcott3]

First of all thank you for the Rempe content

Second of all, I’ve been thinking about this:

You’ve been dating Matt since just after he got to Seattle. You’re openly aware of his fighting and you don’t mind it but once he gets to the NHL you can’t help but let the media and the backlash get to you about Matt fighting. When he gets ejected from a game on a match penalty, you find yourself going down to see him, clearly upset and trying to drill into it him that he doesn’t have to fight all these people, he has nothing to prove. He doesn’t see it that way and you two go back and forth for a little while. He turns to you and says ‘this is who I am. I am working on it, I ask you to accept that’ or something like that and then you have to accept that his fighting is a thing but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it still. So now every time he gets in a fight he brings you flowers and chocolate after the game

kisses

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, mild arguing, fluff, kisses

masterlist

-

“matthew rempe.” you yell busting open the door.

“jesus you scared me.” he jumps, giggling.

“what have i fucking told you matt.” you say sternly as the boy sits down in front of you.

“what?” he shrugs.

“matt please for the love of god stop all this fighting crap. i mean it.” you press, tears welling up in your eyes.

“it’s fun, i never mean any harm by it.” he replies.

“matt, i know. but please. just stop. for your own sake and the sake of your health please. it hurts my heart having to stitch you up after every game. please just at least take a break from it, or only fight when it’s necessary. i just wanna see my boys face healthy again.” you say wiping a tear of frustration that fell.

“come here baby.” he says lowly, opening his arms for you to sit on his leg as you brushed his soft hair from his face.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you felt that way. i’ll try to dim it down okay? this is just the kind of player i choose to be y/n, and that’s how it is but i promise im gonna try to dial it down for you.” he says pressing a kiss to your temple.

“but just know if any guy ever chirps about you they’re dead, okay?” he giggles wiping your tears away gently with his thumb.

“okay.” you smile lightly, finding it hard to ever stay mad at him.

“and i’m sorry for getting ejected again, i know you like staying for the whole game.” he giggles with his chin rested on your shoulder in a hug.

“it’s okay baby. i can’t be mad at being able to have you at home sooner. i always miss you when i can’t come.” you giggle, scratching his scalp with your nails, something he always loved you doing.

“is it bad that i feel that way too.” he says pulling away, locking eyes with you.

“no it just means you love me.” you smile, squishing his cheeks like a baby before he pulls your hand away.

“would you stop that, you know i don’t like it.” he laughs

“well i think it’s funny, and i feel in this moment you deserved it.”

“touché”

-

“matt.” you mumble under your breath as you sat on the couch with a load of emails on your laptop, the game on your tv. of course, another fight. a much more evenly matched one this time. you shut your laptop with anxiety waiting for the final buzzer of the game to sound, eventually dozing off as your mind scrambled at what possible injuries you would have to ice or stitch tonight.

“y/n?” you wake up to the sound of matt’s voice in a low volume, trying not to startle you as his hand rested softly on your leg.

“what, huh? oh my gosh.” you say realizing that you had fallen asleep.

“i got you these.” matt says, revealing the gorgeous bouquet of roses and your favorite chocolate.

“awe matt what is this for?” you ask with your lip pouted, observing the sight in front of you. a beautiful bunch of roses and your beautiful boyfriend.

“for breaking my promise. i’m sorry baby.” he says as you lean over to kiss him on the lips.

“it’s okay my love, you know how hard it is for me to stay mad at you for literally anything. these are beautiful.” you smile lightly at him.

“i had to hand pick them, only the best for my beautiful girl.” he smiles kissing your hand delicately.

“but seriously, promise after tonight, im gonna try to be better.” he swears, setting the objects on the coffee table.

“all i ask is for you to try.” you reply as you stand up, wrapping yourself up in his large frame.

“i’ll think of you out there, every game. every time i get challenged. i swear to god i will.” he mumbles into your hair as he kisses you on top of the head.

“i love you so much.” you say looking up into his deep brown eyes.

“i love you too.” he smiles, leaning down to attach your lips once again.

-

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑮𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝑮𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒕..*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Giant!Changbin, Human!Reader, Unprotected Sex (P in V), Creampie, Size Difference of course, Oral (F), Fingering, Small mentions of blood, half proof read, Sorry if I missed anything.

A/N: I’m really proud of this one I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Also this is just super fluffy as I always tend to do when it’s Binnie.

Find The Halloween Master List Here

-🎃

The words that had just fallen from your lips were unexpected to him “you do?” He said softly looking down at you. “I.. I do.. I love you changbin.” You said looking up into his beautiful brown eyes.

The giants village was half in rubble from a freak accident. Two dragons were fighting overhead, one winning letting the other crash down to earth. It took out so many buildings, thankfully though no one was injured badly. You lived not too far from there coming to the village to lend a medical helping hand. That’s where you met Changbin. A big brute who helped rebuild the building, helps find people’s belongings and even lended a hand to you.

At first it was just ‘thank yous’ to one another for helping. Then you noticed he came by more often, sticking around to ask you little questions. He started to stop by with food and stay while you helped people.

A faithful night however as you were walking the road back to your place barely leaving the village you felt a big claw wrap around you. A werewolf that had been watching you walk home at night finally came to claim you. Picking you up as his sharp claws dug into you. You let out a blood curdling scream before his squeezing knocked the air out of you. Changbin who had just left you a few moments ago heard you cry. His body moving before his mind could even register sprinting his way to you. The werewolf took his free hand as he cut your clothes snarling at the soft flesh. “Stupid human, should know better not to wonder around at night. I bet you’ll taste absolutely delicious” he spat drool dripping from his mouth on to your torso.

Before the werewolf could even sense changbin, he had him by his scruff pulling you away from him. The werewolf snarled clawing at him trying to get back him meal. His claws got him across his chest, and slightly nicking his lip. Changbin with one file swoop through the beast against a tree. His body fell limp to the ground with a whimper “if I ever, catch you anywhere close to her again I’ll snap you and make a coat out of your fur.” He threatened the werewolf. Changbin held you bridal style trying to carry you as gentle as he could back to the village. His heart pounding looking at your limp body. The slight red color seeping from you where the beast claws dug.

“You’ll be ok. You have to be ok. God please be ok!” He mumbled over and over under sprinting now to get you to a doctor. You laid on the table as the doctor stitched you up, giving your body a once of making sure he didn’t break any bones. Luckily besides the cuts you were alright. Changbin never left your side, only stepping to the side to take a damp cloth to his cuts. He took the shirt off he was wearing, putting it over your head. He smiled to himself at how cute you looked in it, it was so long longer than a dress like a big blanket.

He didn’t know what to do he didn’t wanna leave you there alone. So he took you home, laying you In his massive bed, covering you with blankets making sure you were comfortable. He left water by the bedside for you and went to the living room. He slept on the couch not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. He laid there staring at the ceiling feeling guilty. “Why didn’t I just have you stay? Why didn’t I just fucking walk you home” he felt a tear roll down his cheek before rolling over. He drifted off to sleep at some point waking up every so often to check on you.

After that moment he stuck by you, watching over you closely. You two spent alot of time together spending nights at his house when it was late. You started to fall for him, fast and hard. The little things he did for you always made your heart so warm. His hugs were so comforting, this big brute was just the biggest most loving teddy bear.

He felt himself fall more for you over the time. He was scared of his feelings though, not wanting to scare you. Afraid he’d push you away if he’d ever confess. How could he think you’d like someone like him? I mean was he the ‘tallest’ giant? No. Compared to others he was tiny. He still towered over you though, being a little over 9ft. His built was also something to be wildered. What he lacked in height he made up in muscle. How could this beautiful soft small creature like you like someone like him?

You leaned your body against his shivering a bit. “You cold?” He asks. You nod the night air being a lot cooler than expected. He smiled pulling you into his lap as he wrapped his big strong arms around you. The warmth quickly making you feel at ease, his touch was always so gentle. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit, your heart skipping a beat.

“My personal heater” you giggled leaning back into him. His heart was pounding feeling you so close to him. You felt so content against him you let out a happy sigh looking up at the stars. “Changbin” you said softly as he hummed in response “I’m happy I met you.” You said fingers running over his, he felt his heart jump into his throat. “I’m- I’m happy I met you too” he said back. A few moments had passed before you spoke again. “I love you” you whispered out, the words coming out without you even realizing. The words that had just fallen from your lips were unexpected to him “you do?” He said softly looking down at you. “I.. I do.. I love you changbin.” You said looking up into his beautiful brown eyes.

He couldn’t believe what you had just confessed to him. “Why?” Is what came out when he tried to speak making you almost giggle. “What do you mean why? Because you’re the most caring, sweet, kind, funny and not to mention handsome man I’ve ever met. You make me feel so comfortable. That’s why.” You rambled.

He didn’t say anything his body leaning down into you, lips meeting yours. He kissed you softly lips moving as gently as possible against yours. You turned your body straddling him as best as you could as you kissed him back. His hands resting at your waist as he took everything in right now. He was kissing you. He. Was. Kissing. You. Not to mention, you just fucking confessed! His head swirled with thoughts only bringing back to earth by the feeling of you rocking your hips against him.

He groaned against your lips his cock twitching under you. You were so warm, so fucking warm against him. His mind racing with thoughts as your clothed cunt drug against his length. You nibbled his lip hands wondering his body, over his muscles frame. His body was felt like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. So toned, so perfect. “Bin” you said ghostly against his lips. “Want you. Want you so badly.” You said eyes pleading at him. “Are you sure? I’m not like human men y/n I’m sure you can feel that. I don’t wanna hurt you.” He spoke eyes worrying.

“Changbin. I trust you with.” You said kissing him softly “please?” You begged. He felt himself crumbling, how could he deny you anything? “I’m gonna have to prep you really well, but I’m sure you won’t be complaining” he said cockily. He picked you up laying your body against the cool grass he quickly pulled your pants and panties down. His hands wondering your body accident ripping your shirt as his hand went under it. “S-sorry” he said embarrassed. You rolled your eyes “I can get a new one don’t worry silly” you said ruffling his pretty curls.

He smiled kissing your tummy his big hand coming up gently playing with your breast as he left soft kisses to your inner thighs. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long” he said before moving closer to your core. He stared at your glistening folds licking his lips. “My beautiful little bun” he said before diving into you, long thick tongue pushing its way into you. His hot breath against your folds and his nose rubbing against your clit. Your body arched into him shaking at his touch as he worked his tongue into you.

He slurped at your folds, licking up any juices that dare drip out. His fingers pressing against your clit before his mouth attached to it. You were a moaning mess under him, moaning his name as his fingers pressed against your entrance. As he pushed them into you, drool trailing down your cheek mind going blank. “Bin- fuck” is all you could muster as he finger fucked you. He curled his fingers into you nibbling at your clit. You clenched around him your high ready to flood from you. Your body moved riding his fingers as you chased your high.

“That’s it bunny use me, fuck- use me” he groaned. He moved a hand down to slowly push his pants off his rock hard cock springing out of its confines. His red tip leaking heavy precum wanting nothing more to be buried into you. You gripped his hair pulling him into you as you rode his finger. Your high quickly crashing over, your body trembling as changbin lapped at your juices. He moaned at the taste of you hand coming to rub at his cock as he made sure not to waste any of you.

“You positive about this?” He asked looking up at you. “Changbin. If you don’t fuck me I might die” you said teasingly. He chuckled as he rubbed his tip up your folds “I guess I don’t have a choice then” he teased back. He lubed his cock up with all your juices rubbing it against your folds getting himself nice and coated. “Really sure?” He asked one more time. “Changbin. Fuck me.” You groaned pushing your hips down a bit against his tip. “Alright alright impatient” he said with a little chuckle. In all truth he was scared of hurting you, scared his break you.

He slowly pushed this tip into you it filling you up. If he didn’t prep you there was no way he’d even be able to fit. The stretch was a lot but god did it feel good. He slowly pushed into you inch by inch filling you to the brim. When he was a little over half way into you he started to move. His hips moving slowly his hand coming down to toy with your clit. “Y/n you feel so fucking good.” He moaned out. He moved at a grueling slow pace dragging himself against your walls. “Need more” you said grabbing at him pulling him closer to you.

You kissed him sloppily moving your hips into him. You needed him to go faster, needing him close just needing more. Your grinder against him hips meeting his thrusts. “Binnie please faster, need more. Please” you begged. He obliged as he was chasing his high. His balls full of need to release as the smacked against you. “Tell me if it’s too much ok?” He said in almost a whisper as he moved faster his cock head hitting deep inside you. He pulled you close to him arms keeping you snug against him as he fucked into you.

Your body trembling at the pleasure his fingers still working at your clit. “Cum on my cock please- fuck y/n make a mess on me” he cried out feeling your cunt clenching around him. “Shit- you’re gonna milk me good- fuck y/n!” He babbled out. Your body shook as you came hard around his cock squirting all over his torso. “Changbin! Fuck- fuck- I love you!” You mumbled out. His body stuttered at your words, those words again.

“Y/n- I love you! Fuck” he said kissing you sloppily again. “Please say it again. Never stop saying it” he begged out. His thrusts became sloppy moving inside you hitting your gspot hard. You felt another strong orgasms working up “Changbin! I love you! I love you so much!” You almost screamed out. You felt his cock twitch in you his hands gripping at you pulling you fully down on his length as his balls unloaded into you. He moaned loudly, almost a roar as he did. He felt you cumming around him again making him jerk out of you from you clenching so tightly.

“Y/n- shit- I’m so sorry I should have pulled” he said before getting cut off by your lips. “Shut up” you said softly making him chuckle. “Changbin. I love you.” You said staring up into his eyes. “I love you too. Y/n I love you with every fiber in me. I love you” he said kissing you lovingly. “This means you’re all mine right?” He said with a grin. You rolled your eyes “of course dummy” you said teasingly. “I’m never letting you go” he said holding you close to him. The night air feeling so good against your warm skin. He held you tightly while you both caught your breath rocking back and forth as he whispered sweet nothing to you. Telling you how much he truly loved you.

Who knew a big brute like him has a heart to match his giant size.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Halloween Taglist: @ldysmfrst @kissesmellow21 @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head. 

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today." 

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you." 

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow." 

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping." 

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos. 

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you. 

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful." 

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower. 

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks. 

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it. 

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously. 

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me." 

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh. 

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently. 

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep. 

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly. 

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne." 

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General. 

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants. 

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?" 

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg. 

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened. 

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly." 

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek. 

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?" 

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up." 

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise. 

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers? 

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan. 

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.  

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say. 

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again. 

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying. 

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say. 

"He sounds like you." 

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle. 

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists. 

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of. 

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry." 

"You think so?" you ask. 

"I think the solution is the same, too." 

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry." 

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean. 

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question). 

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in. 

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms? 

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more. 

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably. 

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm. 

You hesitate. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?" 

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts. 

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately. 

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever." 

"What do you think?" you ask softly. 

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious. 

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days." 

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?" 

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?" 

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast." 

"I can wait." 

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?" 

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again." 

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me." 

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork. 

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it. 

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough. 

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird." 

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it." 

"It's a mess?" you ask. 

"It's perfect." 

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully. 

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing. 

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips. 

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly. 

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me." 

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more. 

"He's… I'm just not…" 

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth." 

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble. 

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–" 

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face. 

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind." 

"But he is perfect," you say. 

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–" 

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion." 

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek. 

"My dork," you murmur. 

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey." 

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility." 

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss. 

"I love you," you say. 

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too." 

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Every Fucking Time

Summary: You want to help Dean, but he knows you can't.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of angst! Smut! Unprotected PinV sex. Slightly rough sex. Dean being an asshole. Dean being a broken boy. Hurt/comfort.

Pairings: Dean x Reader (You)

Word Count: 2,737

A/N: So, I just rewatched 13x18, Bring 'Em Back Alive, and the scene at the end never fails to break my heart. I just wanna make Dean feel better! 😫 But it got me thinking about how unlikely Dean would be to accept that help, and how his anger might manifest. Anyway, this is what spilled out of my brain as a result.

A/N 2: The title is a reference to Dean's line, "Every time we get close, it all falls apart. Every frickin' time." I have changed it to the non-network TV version because we all KNOW that's actually what Dean said.

You just wanted to help. You needed to help. You needed to make it better for him. 

Dean had slipped back home through the rift barely an hour earlier, talking about the apocalypse world Charlie and how he'd left her and Ketch behind, promising he would come back with reinforcements.

Then you, Cas and Sam had given him the bad news; no one could go back, you couldn’t send reinforcements. Gabriel was gone, taking all his archangel grace with him.

“So if it’s gone, then that means that we can’t open that door again. If we can’t open the door, then I shoulda never come back!” He'd shouted.

He'd tried to tamp down the rage and anger that simmered just behind his forced calm. Nevertheless, it exploded out of him making you all jump.

“Son of a bitch!” He'd screamed, sending books and papers crashing to the ground as he swept them from the table. “Every time!”

You could feel his frustration and pain like it was your own as his voice dropped, defeated and broken for the millionth time. “Every time we get close, it always falls apart…every fuckin’ time.”

When he walked away, looking as though the weight of the world was once again on his shoulders, you’d tried to follow after him, but Sam had grabbed your arm gently, holding you back.

“Leave him for now, Y/N. He needs time.”

You should have listened to Sam, but you could feel Dean’s pain like a lance in your side and you were desperate to heal him. So less than an hour later, you went looking for him. But he wasn’t in his room, or the Dean cave. The kitchen was empty and so was the garage. 

You finally found him in the infirmary. He was sitting on one of the beds, sewing together a nasty looking bullet wound.

“Dean!” You called out worriedly as you rushed down the steps. He glanced up at you but then went back to stitching himself up. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d been shot?” You reprimanded him.

He shrugged his unwounded shoulder. “No big deal. Ketch patched me up on the go, just didn’t have time to sew it up properly.”

You watched him silently for a moment, wincing every time the needle pierced his inflamed skin. He’d taken his shirt off so he could tend to his wound, and you couldn’t help but take an inventory of his other numerous scars. Jagged knife cuts, more round bullet holes, and a few waxy looking old burns, all marred his otherwise perfect, lightly freckled torso.

Some of the scars were very faded, barely noticeable, while others were newer; some of them were still red and angry looking. They were a patchwork of pain - a tapestry of more than thirty-five years of hunting, fighting, falling, getting up, and fighting again. 

It made you exhausted just to see it; it made your bones ache.

You stepped a little closer to him, but he kept you at arm’s length with an aura of silent, repressed anger that you could practically see pulsing off of him.

You wanted to help him so badly.

“Dean, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, not looking up from his work. “No, let’s not. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

You let out a small sigh. Of course you don’t. You thought with a flash of frustration.

You were quiet another minute as he finished the last few stitches. Then you smiled a little, trying a different tactic. “So, there was a Charlie over there? That’s amazing. What was she like? Was she the same as our Charlie?”

Dean didn’t answer right away. He snipped the thread he was using and tossed the small silver scissors back into the first aid kit he had open on the bed beside him. He took some rubbing alcohol and poured it onto a gauze pad, holding it to his wound and sucking in a breath through gritted teeth before answering.

“Yeah sure, she was like our Charlie.” His voice was a growl of pain. “She was a badass, determined to fight injustice, sticking up for her friends, risking her life for them. And yeah, just like our Charlie, I left her on her own to be butchered.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Dean that’s not true…you didn’t-”

“Seriously, Y/N. Just fucking don’t.”

You were silenced again, watching him clean up and toss the bloody bandages into the trash as he stood up from the bed. He reached for his flannel and tried to put it on, slightly hampered by his newly bandaged shoulder. You stepped forward to help him with it, and when it was on, but still unbuttoned, you slid your hands inside, down over his ribs.

You kissed his chest gently, and felt him twitch slightly. 

“Y/N.” He said quietly and you could hear the warning in his tone. 

You knew he was in a bad place, and the two of you had only recently begun to move your relationship out of friendship and into something more, so sex was still new between you. But you felt the overwhelming, screaming need to help him, to hold him close and let him feel your love shine through. You’d been in love with him for a long time, but you’d never told him. You suspected he didn’t love you back, though you hoped he might someday.

For now, though, you’d settle for being a soft place to land, if he’d just let you.

“Dean.” You said softly, kissing his chest again. “Let me help you.”

He pushed you back and turned away. “I don’t need help.”

You persisted, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “We all need help from time to time, Dean.”

“Y/N!” He said again, louder this time, his earlier anger resurfacing. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.”

But you couldn’t. You wanted to help him, whether he accepted it or not.

You moved around him, so you stood in front of him again. “Dean, you’re not fine. I just wanna help you.”

Dean scoffed. “Well you can’t fucking help me, Y/N. You can’t make it better.”

“I could try.” You cupped his cheek, but he pulled it out of your grasp, turning his head. You stood on tiptoe to try and kiss him. “Let me try, Dean. Let me try to help you.”

Dean grabbed your wrists from around his neck, glaring down at you, eyes blazing. “You fucking can’t, do you not hear me? You can’t help me, no one can help me! Because all I do is fuck up; all I do is leave my friends and family to die. And fucking you isn’t gonna change that; unless you have some kind of magical cunt that can open portals to another dimension, you can’t fucking help me!”

You felt your stomach drop, and an immediate ache started, high in your gut, clenching your insides and making you feel short of breath. You stepped back from Dean and swallowed convulsively, trying not to let go of the tears that clogged your throat. But it was a losing battle and they were soon coursing down your cheeks.

You nodded slightly. “K, yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say, turning away just as remorse began dawning in Dean’s emerald eyes. “Sam was right…I shouldn’t have come.”

You took off, bounding up the stairs as Dean called out to you. You ignored him, desperate to get away before you collapsed completely. 

You heard Dean following you, chasing you down the bunker hallway and you sprinted away. You got to your room just in time to slam the door and lock it just as Dean skidded to a halt outside.

He banged on the door, but you just moved over to your desk, dropping into the chair and swiping at your tears over and over, unable to make them stop.

“Y/N, come on! Open the door. Look, I didn’t mean that, okay? I just...just let me in.” He banged again. When you wouldn’t open it, he just kept banging. Finally he yelled at you through the wood.  “You know, I can just break down the fucking door! Let me in!”

He slammed his hammer like fist against the door again, rattling it in its frame. You jumped up and ripped open the door just as he was about to start pounding again. So his fist was raised and his features were twisted in a snarl as you looked up at him. But you were calm, even though tears still leaked from your eyes.

“Enough.” You said quietly. “Look, I shouldn’t have kept bugging you, you made it very clear you didn’t want me there and that I couldn’t be of any help. So, it’s fine. I’ll leave you alone now, and you can please stop raging at me and trying to smash down my door.”

You swallowed tightly and then nodded at him. “Goodnight.”

You closed your door softly and walked back to slump onto the end of your bed. You dashed your tears away as quickly as they fell, trying to dash away Dean’s angry words too, but failing miserably. 

After nearly half an hour your tears finally dried up and you decided to get ready for bed, sadness and hurt making you slow and sluggish. As you pulled your big sleep shirt on over your head, however, a noise caught your attention just outside your door. 

You walked softly to the door in your bare feet, cracking it open an inch to look out into the hallway. What you saw made brand new tears cloud your vision.

Dean was sitting across from your door, his back against the wall. His knees were bent slightly with his elbows resting there and his feet planted on the floor. His eyes were shut, his head leaning back against the wall with tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Or almost silently. As you watched, his face spasmed with pain and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, making the muffled sound you’d heard; it sounded like his pain was choking him.

You opened the door wider and Dean sensed you, his eyes springing open. At first it seemed like he might bolt, but then he shook his head as he stared at you. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I swear to god, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

He thumped his head back against the wall twice. “I just break things. Everything.” He punctuated the word by slamming his elbow back into the wall as well, hard enough that you were worried he’d break the bone.

You hurried forward to kneel on the floor in front of him, squeezing in between his knees. You pulled his hands into yours as you tried to reassure him. “Dean, that isn’t true. You don’t break everything; you fix things, save things. It’s in your DNA to try to right all the wrongs in the world, but sometimes you just can’t.”

He stared at you intently and once again you found yourself desperate to try to ease the bottomless ache you could see in his mossy green eyes.

His voice was barely a whisper as he reached out to run his thumb across your cheekbone. “Did I break us?”

You took a deep breath. “Your words hurt me.” He closed his eyes and nodded. “But…”

You were quiet a moment before deciding it was worth taking a chance, so you just said it. “But I love you, and my love doesn’t break that easily, even if my heart does.”

You took his hand from your cheek and held it against your chest, over your heart. “Not ever. No matter what the future holds, my love is unbreakable, even when you try to smash it to pieces with both hands.”

Dean’s expression was closed off, and you couldn’t see through it to his thoughts. After a moment he shook his head. “Don’t love me, sweetheart. I can’t…I can’t protect you if you love me. Something will come and take you from me - use you to hurt me somehow.” He closed his eyes again and repeated his words from earlier in the evening. 

“Every time I get close, it always falls apart.” He opened his eyes slowly and stared intently into your soul. “Every fucking time.”

He gazed at you for a long time, and you let him, hoping he could see that you weren't afraid to love him, and you weren't going to be scared away.

Suddenly he reached out to yank you into his lap and slam his mouth down on yours. You gasped into the kiss and then whimpered as he clutched you tight to him.

He pulled away from you, breathing harshly. “Am I forgiven? Because I was such a liar. I do need you.” He dipped his head to nip at your pulse point and flick his tongue against your salty skin. “I need you so fucking bad.”

You nodded, flushed and aching for his touch. “You’re forgiven.”

He crushed your lips with his once again, standing up without letting you out of his arms. He pushed you backwards through your bedroom door and closed it with a soft click, as he yanked your t-shirt off over your head, getting you naked in one quick motion.

You pushed his open flannel down his arms, being careful not to aggravate his newest injury. You fumbled with the button on his jeans for a moment, hands trembling, as he palmed your breast and squeezed, pressing his hard, blunt fingertips into your yielding flesh.

You threw your head back as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and bit it gently. You sank your hands into his short hair, tugging sharply and moaning loudly. He pulled away, just far enough that he could spin you around to face the wall. With a hand against your upper back, he bent you over slightly and lifted your arms, so that you braced them against the brick.

Then he raised your right leg, wrapping his forearm over top of it and spreading you open. You felt the knuckles of his other hand brush over your dripping wet core as he unbuttoned his jeans. Seconds later, you felt his tip pressing against your entrance and then you let out a scream of pleasure as he slammed into you hard and fast.

As he fucked up into you, he pulled you open even wider, reaching down with his free hand to rub circles into your clit with his calloused fingertips.

Eventually he dropped your leg, and pushed your feet apart while he pulled your hips back towards him. He never faltered or slowed his pace, just manhandling you into the positions he wanted.

You were bent at a ninety degree angle now, hands still braced against the wall, with your head hanging between them as Dean continued to pound into you so deep that he was almost lifting you off the floor with each thrust. 

He clamped his hand on the back of your neck, using it as leverage to piston his hips forward like a jackhammer. He tilted your pelvis forward slightly and suddenly he was perfectly, relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over until you were screaming out his name and crashing into a hard wall of pleasure. You shook with your climax, but Dean didn’t stop, riding you through your first orgasm and into several more.

Your throat was hoarse from shouts of pleasure before Dean finally cursed loudly, shouting your name and surging into your body. With one last driving push,  you could feel him spurting into you hot and thick. He rocked his body against yours a few more times as his cock continued to twitch inside you.

Finally he stilled, both of you breathing harshly now, bodies slick with sweat. He laid his chest against your back, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, keeping himself locked inside your slick warmth.

“Y/N.” You could hear the thick emotions even in his soft whisper. “You know, you save me. Every time I think I can’t recover, every time I think I won’t get back up. You make me think I can. You tell me I will.” 

He paused and his voice was velvety and warm as he breathed out across your skin. “You save me.” He kissed your shoulder gently. “Every fucking time.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[osamucide]

AKUTAGAWA THIRSTS U SAY….. just imagine finally getting your mouth on him for the first time. he’s so hesitant to let you touch him in any capacity for so long, has only ever associated touch with pain and suffering, so it’s such a big deal when he finally even lets you hug him, let alone touch him like that.

but omg. blowing him for the first time…. just how blushy and whiny he’d be as you take his cock into your mouth, suckling on the tip. he yelps when you start playing with his balls at the same time, and tbh he probably only lasts a few minutes because it feels so damn good and its so foreign JDJDKSJ i love him sm

FLORAAAAAAAAA

yeah. I love that you mention his hesitancy with and mistrust of touch because of his lifelong association of it with pain—I think that’s part of what makes it so fun to imagine situations like this with him. soft aku has my heart I just wanna make him feel loved and safe enough so that he might experience pleasure

can’t stop thinking about taking it so slow with him. hand holding only after weeks of dating (never mind that actually starting to date probably took multiple months/maybe even a year+). hugs only days after that. kisses come much later than they would in a ‘normal’ relationship but he’s not ‘normal’ and you reassure him that it’s just another one of the things you love about him. you love feeling it out and taking things one step at a time, especially if it’s working toward comfortability and stability on his side of things. he’s only ever known erratic instability until you.

can’t stop thinking about him dealing with sexuality and feelings of arousal in less than conventional ways until he’s alright with letting you lead him through it. I wrote in his nsfw alphabet that I think he’s a pillow/blanket humper—this stands. I think it takes him a long time to trust anyone’s touch, even his own. but when he finally feels comfortable enough to let you touch him—fuck, it’s like coming home. it’s like you should’ve been here all along.

you treat his body with such reverence. where he sees himself as a machine, you see him as a work of art. it’s per your insistence on this that he lets you undress him from the waist down and trail kisses across his thighs for what feels like forever—taking it slow. he gains trust slowly.

and the most delicious part of trust, he learns, is the relinquishing of control. trusting you enough to let you near his exposed skin without the thought of harm crossing his mind. trusting you enough to let your string of kisses work across his hips and down one side of his soft v-line. trusting you enough to let his mouth fall open in a gasp and his eyes flicker shut when your gentle tongue flicks across the leaking tip of his cock.

he’s been turned on before, but never like this. never in a way that didn’t make him feel acutely disgusting. he sees himself as a machine, after all. but with you, he’s human—for a second he’s some semblance of the word ‘normal’ but beyond even that, there’s this intoxicating wave of pleasure roving up from his pelvis all the way to his shoulders and he’s making sounds he’s never heard himself make before. cracked, broken, almost like crying, but he’s far from upset; this is what drugs must feel like.

can’t stop thinking about licking a long stripe up the underside of his pretty, pale cock and forcing a stuttered moan from his chest as his face breaks out madly. repeating that motion until his hips start to undulate beneath your touch. letting your fingers roam between the junctures of his groin and his thighs, scratching softly, not enough that it hurts, just enough that he feels it.

can’t stop thinking about your name tumbling from his lips in soft, pious gasps and whispers; can’t stop thinking about his sparse brow stitched together and his lashes fluttering over thin, unshed tears as you gradually coax him toward ecstasy. and when your fingers cup his balls and squeeze softly, and your warm, wet mouth envelops as much of him as feels natural, he moans, almost mutters out “no—” not because he doesn’t want it, but because he doesn’t know if he deserves it, all this pleasure. from you, an angel with a mouth like heaven.

can’t stop thinking about bobbing your head, picking up pace and drooling around him, massaging his balls with one hand and tracing reassurances into his thigh with the other. he cums embarrassingly quick—gasping, rhythmically, jaw slack as he watches you take him, watches you push him over the edge—but he can’t help it, you must be magic, you must have been made for him, you learn him so quickly almost like you’re not learning him at all but simply know him.

he apologizes as you swallow his load—an obscenely large amount of cum that has his face going red probably for the millionth time as he understands what you’ve just done—but you just smile up at him and lean your cheek against the inside of his leg as he goes soft in your hands. you must be an angel from heaven, he thinks. it has his cock twitching back to life in a way he’s never known it to before.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

In Stitches

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Warnings: depictions of violence

Stitched Together | Pull the Thread | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

He'd won. He came out broken, bloody, and bruised, but he won. At just eighteen years old, technically a man, but still a boy at heart, James Buchanan Barnes was thrown into a cage fight to prove to his father that he can be strong enough to take over the family business.

He came out of that fight looking at his father and a shine of love and pride reflected back at him.

This was Bucky's new reality. Life filled with pain, bloodshed, and darkness. He couldn't bring you into it, especially when his dad said Bucky could use you to get info on what your dad and the department knows about the business. No. He can't use you like that.

He couldn't bring himself to break up with you either so he played the part that everyone expected of him. He became cold and callous, which lead to you breaking up with him. He told himself it was for the best and it was to protect you from his new reality. He loved you and always will, even when he grew up to be someone most thought incapable of love.

___________________________

Bucky: can we swing by? two of our guys got shot.

You read over Bucky's text and you sigh. You pause your favorite rom-com movie and kick off the blanket you had draped over you.

As you head to your bathroom for your med kit, you text back:

You: yup. come on by.

Bucky: ETA is 15min

You: [thumbs up]

It'd been four months now of being a nurse for Bucky and his people. You've come to notice the ones who get hurt often, their bodies littered with various scars and stitches all over their bodies. Bucky, more often than not, came with them. It always surprised you because you figured he'd have other stuff to take care of, but, as he's mentioned to you once:

"These people are under my care. I wanna make sure they're taken care of."

Which made your heart swell a little bit and throw you back to how Bucky always felt protective of those he cared about.

You push your furniture towards the edges of the room and set up the cots for your incoming patients. You were tired of cleaning out the bloodstains on your couch cushions.

A knock at your door, you scurry to pull it open. Four guys trudge in. Two, dragging the other two inside.

Bucky comes in last with a shy smile, "Evening."

"Hey," you say with a nod, letting him in and then closing the door behind him.

"You doing okay?"

You nod, "Yeah. Wasn't doing much when you texted me. Just watching a movie."

"Rom com?" he asks you with a teasing smirk.

You roll your eyes at him in response, "Shut up."

"I wasn't saying anything!"

"You're judging me, Barnes! I know how you look when you're judging, so don't even deny it!" you poke his chest and turn on your heel to go attend to your patients.

___________________

Your patients had left your home, not wanting to take advantage of your generosity further despite your protests. That left you alone with Bucky. He was nursing a glass of whiskey and you a glass of wine while another movie played on the tv. He didn't leave with the rest of his guys. His excuse being that he wanted to finish the movie that you played while you worked on his men. A part of you hoped it was because he wanted to spend some alone time with you. Then you mentally scold yourself for hoping for such a thing.

You clear your throat when the movie ends, "So, you like rom-coms now, hm?"

He chuckles, placing his glass on your coffee table, "Just because I watched one rom-com, doesn't mean I like rom-coms."

You scoff, "I'll convert you, Barnes, just wait." You stand and grab his glass, "You want more?"

"Nah. I, uh, I should go."

You nod, "Right," you turn and head to the kitchen, placing the glasses into the sink.

Bucky follows, placing a small stack of bills onto the counter, "Your pay."

"Thanks," you mumble, not turning around to face him.

There's some sort of tension in the air and Bucky doesn't know why. He wants to poke and see what happened, if he'd done something somehow. But he doesn't. Despite you two being in each other's lives again, albeit in a small capacity, he still feels insecure and unsure about where you two stand now. Because he is still head of a crime organization and you're still the daughter of the chief of police that's trying to bring him down. Your lives keep being woven together, but will it result in the same heartbreaking end?

Bucky hopes not. He's older now. His father is gone and he's more in control of his life now. Right?

"Get some rest, sweetheart," he murmurs before exiting your home.

_______________________________

You're called up to the reception desk during your shift. When you head to the first floor, you see your dad waiting for you.

"Everything okay?" you immediately ask with concern.

"Everything's good, Bug. Figured you'd wanna have lunch with me?" he holds up a paper bag, 'Stan's Diner' logo stamped on it.

You break out into a smile, "Let me just let my charge nurse know I'm going on lunch. I'll meet you in the cafeteria."

"Sounds good," your dad gives you a thumbs up and heads in the direction of the cafeteria.

You head back upstairs, letting the charge nurse, Sharon, of you going on lunch. You punch in your ID number to start your lunch and then go back to your dad.

When you reach the cafeteria, you snort. Your dad is already eating without you. You sit across from him, unwrapping the burger he set out for you, "Couldn't wait?"

He shrugs, "I was starving!" He takes another bite of his burger and then takes out the two cups of fries. He flattens the paper bag and pours all of the fries out. The setting is reminiscent of your childhood. Every Friday, after your dad picked you up from school, you two would go to Stan's Diner. You'd always order the same thing, and your dad always combined the fries in the middle for you both to share.

"Been a while since we had lunch together. You sure things are okay?" you ask him with a hint of skepticism.

After your dad washes his food down with a can of Diet Coke (he's trying to cut back on the sugar), he clears his throat, "Well, uh, I did want to mention something to you."

You fidget in your seat, hoping and praying that he didn't find out that you've been helping nurse Bucky and his people for the past few months.

"So some of my patrol guys mentioned they started seeing more of Barnes' guys around your neighborhood."

You look at him with fake surprise, "What? Really? I haven't seen anything or anyone suspicious, but then again, I'm hardly home and when I am, I'm usually asleep."

"So far, they haven't done anything to be concerned about. Just that they've been showing up around your side of town lately. I just wanted to see if you've seen or heard anything, but most importantly to be cautious and careful."

You gulp, "Do-Do you think Bucky would hurt me?"

He sighs, "Bug, I'm honestly not sure what to believe, but that man isn't the same kid you were friends with back then. He's different now, capable of dangerous things. I just want to you to be careful."

"I will be, dad. I still carry my knife and pepper spray you got me."

"Good. I was also thinking of sending more guys to watch your specific area."

You shake your head, " I'm sure there are other places that need your attention."

"Maybe, but maybe I'll just station one guy on your street to keep an eye on things."

"I'll be fine. Trust me-"

"I trust you just fine, Bug. It's Barnes, I don't trust."

He wipes his hands and mouth with his napkin, "I'm gonna use the bathroom real quick." You give him a nod and watch as he heads to the cafeteria's bathrooms.

Once he's out of sight, you immediately pull out your phone and bring up the text chain between you and Bucky.

You: you guys need to be more careful. dad just told me his patrol guys have been seeing your people around my neighborhood more. he's thinking about having a guy stationed on my street.

Bucky: fuck.

Bucky: thanks for telling me.

You: you're welcome. maybe tell everyone to do their best to not get shot or stabbed for the next few weeks.

Bucky: can't really guarantee that considering our line of work.

You: at least try!

Bucky: will do, sweetheart.

You: stay safe.

Bucky: same to you, sweetheart.

You slip your phone back into your pocket when your dad exits the bathroom. You continue to eat your lunch and chat with him, acting as if you just didn't tip off his biggest enemy.

[welivetodream]

Chuuya, singing in the kareoke: I wanna key his car, I wanna make him lunch

Dazai, whispering to Atsushi: Chuuya sounds so desperate

Chuuya: I wanna break his heart and be the one to stitch it up

Dazai: .....wait

Chuuya: Wanna kiss his face

*Dazai, smirks*

Chuuya, making a fist: with an uppercut

Dazai: oh no....

Chuuya: I wanna meet his mom, to tell her, her son sucks!!!

*ADA and PM laughing in the background*

[redrandomposts]

till narrowly missing ivan in every universe, either literally or figuratively, makes me giggle and cry at the same time AUUHSHSJSH if he was a regressor/reincarnator and og/alnst!till was watching his later incarnations, mans would be bald from tearing his hair out in frustration

"LOOK BACK MF LOOK BACK, YOU JUST MISSED HIM"

"THATS NOT WHAT HE MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR NTH SEXUALITY CRISIS, IVAN IS MOVING AWAY TOMORROW. MOVE IT"

and imagine his previous incarnations from other failed lifetimes watching the current lifetime with him and theyre all in the same frustrated state 😭

"can we PLEASE have one lifetime where we dont end up breaking his heart ? can we PLEASE—"

— 🌦️

HAHAHAHAHA LMAOOOOO

doomed lovers and tills watching it all happen, kicking and screaming

everytime an incarnation pops up in their little hell, he is kicked and beaten up and treated as a less-than-human being until the next one meets ivan. and then they're too focused watching how till (yes, that's you, a dumbass) misses every smile and glimmer of eyes and heartbreak that ivan shows.

"what the fuck?! what's he doing?! ivan is right there, don't go hitting on her - fuck! who is that idiot!"

"that idiot is you! do you remember how you made ivan your best man at your wedding?!"

"says the one had an arranged marriage with him then went to war and came home in love with a nurse!"

"all of you are idiots!"

and none of the tills know og till's backstory. most of the time he's writing songs and playing the guitar, as all of them do, but in a more extreme way. there's a little library with all the songs the tills have made, each shelf a different life. og till's is a whole bookshelf, but the ones about ivan only starts after he first appeared here.

(there's also the songs each and every ivan has made about till, for till, to till. those are treated much better than the ones the tills haphazardly throws into their respective shelves. they're encased in gold and glass, just as unattainable as ivan seems to be.)

extra reactions according to some of my aus (except it's all the bad ends and ooc??):

omegaverse

"...what the fuck?"

"WHAT'S A PHEROMONE?! ALPHA? THAT'S SO CRINGEY? WTF"

"GUYS!!! IVAN CAN BE PREGNANT-"

"-SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"

"holy fuck"

"it was indeed a fuck"

"did you know ivan could moa-"

"fucking hell we're all tills we're all here we all know!"

"BLOOD! GET A TISSUE YOU FREAK-"

"HALF OF US HAVE NOSEBLEEDS WDYM"

"please please please till hE IS PREGNANT-"

"..."

"what the fuck."

"HE'S DEAD?"

"guys i don't ever wanna get ivan pregnant if that's what's going to happen"

android au

"...he owns ivan..?"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR?? WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE IVAN??"

"surely they fall in love, right?"

"don't fucking jinx it, you moron!"

"ivan's so cute... look! he's cutting the veggies into flowers!"

"hey! till! say thank you to ivan!!"

"ugh, can't he just get out the studio so i can see ivan??"

"till, can't you just be a stay at home musician?!"

"aww!! aren't those flowers in the stitching?"

"oh my god ivan hand sewed him clothes?!"

"that's not fair! ivan! you can't just give things to the idiot! or else!! ...or else."

"...you fucking jinxed it!!! ivan!!! you can't die!"

"how'd i know that they'd just shoot and never stop shooting?"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??"

"i'll fucking BEAT THEM UP I SWEAR."

"??? why's he only just checked the cameras now since he got ivan?"

"...ivan's voice is so heavenly."

"..."

zombie au

"is it another boring one? haven't we already seen till and ivan have normal lives and drift apart or something else?"

"maybe this time, till will..."

"shut UP! CROW'S MOUTH, I SWEAR"

"nevermind that is nOT NORMAL FUCK"

"OH MY GOD HE IS ROTTING AND MOVING??"

"IVAN GET AWAY FROM THERE -"

"...ivan?"

"FUCK! HE DID IT AGAIN!"

"TILL YOU FUCKER GO BACK FOR HIM!!"

"...at least we still have ivan."

"...and till knows he loves ivan."

"...and they kissed."

".....oh fucking hell, why are you so happy?! ivan's basically till's dog! till doesn't deserve him!"

"well, as long as they cure ivan, they'll be together for real, right?"

"..."

"YOU FUCKING JINXED IT-"

"WHY'D THAT RANDO JUST SHOOT IVAN???

mermaid au

"oh my god he's a fish -"

"- ivan looks like a prince!"

"??? how can you be so rude to ivan!"

"why are his thoughts so weird? ivan's a human, not some pearl! he has dignity!"

"he's much better than some pearl, too."

"till knows he loves ivan, right??? surely??? with those thoughts..."

"i wanna see ivan's eyes...."

"i wanna see ivan's smile..."

"fuck! till, just speak to him god damnit!"

"oh my god!!! ivan!!!"

"??? where's his fishy parts?? ow, don't hit me-"

"...he looks so fine."

"hey! he's sixteen! you are definitely not sixteen, you fucking homewrecker!!"

"homewrecker?! i didn't cheat!!"

"you wrecked your and ivan's house life!"

"what?"

"where'd the letter come from??"

"how's there sea foam???"

"IVANNNN!"

"HE'S DEAD? JUST LIKE THAT?"

"HE DESERVED MORE YOU FUCKER-"

===

anyways im going to edit my masterlist to be better ig

[musicgifs]

i wanna break his heart, then be the one to stitch it up.

OLIVIA RODRIGO get him back! (2023)

[chadillacboseman]

Makarov with a baby is cool, but I wanna read the fic where they MADE the baby 👀

Oh you're so right let's do it 🤌 F!Reader, mentions of getting PREGNANT, obviously.

Nothing gets Makarov's blood pumping like a close call.

Nolan is in the seat next to him, breaths coming in short, pained, waves as he clutches at the wound in his leg. Blood spills past his fingers in thick crimson rivulets, sliding down the fabric of his fatigues and to the leather of the seat beneath him.

Nolan will be fine, it's not his first rodeo; Makarov is sporting his own bullet wound, a clean shot through his upper arm that aches and throbs with each uneven piece of the road.

The rest of the trip is a blur, through rain-soaked streets and to the safehouse where a doctor held at gunpoint meticulously tends to their wounds, too scared to have an errant slip and get their brains blown out.

Sporting fresh stitches and a heart still thundering in his skull, Makarov pushes through the front door and kicks his boots off, ears straining against the thrum of his own blood to listen for your presence.

He calls for you in the darkness, knowing you're likely in bed by now; long gone are the days when you would wait up wringing your hands in his absence.

Makarov moves to the stairs, heavy footfalls carrying him up to your shared bedroom where he finds you curled up under the thick comforter. The moonlight glints off of your skin as your chest rises and falls gently.

"Любовь моя," he nudges you gently, stubbled mouth finding your ear, "I'm home."

"V!" You throw your arms around him and he chuckles, "oh my god, what happened?"

Your eyes are wide as you rake them over his bloodied shirt and the bullet hole in the fabric. You pass your hand over the frayed edges and he catches it in his own, bringing his mouth to dust gently over your knuckles.

"I'm fine," he murmurs, lips ghosting over your skin as he speaks, "but I missed you."

Makarov's mouth is on yours in a heartbeat, his tongue pushing past your lips to tangle with your own. His heart is still hammering, though for different reasons now, pulse thrumming in his ears.

A brush with death makes him desperate, wild and hungry for you; he needs to feel you, to be inside of you to keep himself grounded.

His hands move down your body to lift your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor near the bed. Makarov takes his lip in his teeth at the sight of you, causing your cheeks to warm under his hungry gaze.

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, he kisses his way down your stomach and to the waistband of your pajama pants. He tugs them down and off of you before discarding them next to your shirt.

Makarov's arm aches, but he ignores it as he lifts your legs up over his shoulders. You let out a tired whimper as he flattens his tongue and runs it over your clit, as if you are the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.

"V-" you whine out the nickname and he chuckles against your skin before pushing a finger inside you.

You buck against him and he slings an arm across your midriff to pin you in place. His dark eyes meet yours and they crinkle at the corners, giving away his devious grin.

Makarov wants to break you apart, to have you come undone over and over. He gets like that when he comes to to toe with death. He needs to hear you cry his name and beg him to relent before he gives you any mercy.

His finger curls inside you and you let out a pathetic moan as he finds a rhythm with his tongue that sets your mind ablaze. He loosens his grip on your middle and instead moves his hand up to your breasts, rough fingers rolling your one of your nipples between them.

"V, please-" you don't even know what you're begging for, your mind feels like a live wire draped into a puddle of water.

Makarov pauses and then sucks gently on your clit; the motion makes you cry out in earnest and he does it again before adding a second finger inside you.

Your heart fairly hammers in your chest as the pressure builds between your legs, threatening to overtake you. Everything feels overwhelming, unbearable, white hot. You finally hit your limit and thread your fingers into his hair as you grind up against his mouth with a choked sob.

He lets you ride out your high, grinning against your pussy until your legs shake on either side of his head. He gives you a moment to recover, then his tongue is back on you. You gasp, already so overstimulated that it's painful, and grip his hair tightly. You jerk his head up and his eyes find yours- he looks drunk, his eyes heavy lidded and his mouth upticked in a lopsided smile.

"Let me do this," Makarov whispers, "please."

He needs this just as much as you do.

You release his hair and he returns to work. Again and again he makes you come undone entirely until you can think of nothing. Your mind is a scorched forest, and he's the one holding the match.

He knows when you can take no more by the way your legs clamp onto his head and your voice is shrill, cracking in the quiet room. He's satisfied then and pulls away, his mouth still gleaming with your wetness as he shucks his shirt, then his pants.

All you can do is watch, dazed, as he wraps your legs around his waist and then slips inside you. You stare up at him, cockdumb and hazy, and he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. You open your mouth and he puts the digit inside; he groans when you run your tongue along it.

Makarov's first thrust has you seeing stars, clinging to his broad shoulders as he fucks you. Another thrust and you feel like you're gasping for air.

"You can take it," he murmurs. You're not sure you can, "So pretty when you're taking me."

You swallow thickly and look up at him with your mouth slightly agape, pupils blown out with lust. His thrusts are quicker now, and each one nearly makes you sob. Makarov looks down at you as if you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

You are. He doesn't know how he ever got you to love him, or why you stay. He's a terrible man- a murderer, a bastard. He doesn't deserve a pretty, innocent thing like you.

"V," you whimper and he drops his sweat-soaked forehead to yours with a strangled 'hm?', "I want- I want you to cum inside me. Please."

The request sets his mind into a frenzy and he latches his mouth to yours, tongue forcing its way inside as his thrusts quicken.

"You want that, hm?" he pants when he breaks his mouth from yours, "To fill you up?"

You nod and he grins, his lips brushing against yours again before his next words, "you want me to make you a mother?"

Your eyes meet his and you see the intensity in his gaze. You don't even know what it would be like to have a child with him- how you could possibly make it work with his "work".

Makarov thrusts, hard, and you decide that you'll figure that part out later. You give him a choked off 'yes' that makes him feel as if his chest is going to burst from the way his heart hammers.

His next few thrusts are less measured, more sloppy, until he's cursing under his breath in Russian and you feel warmth bloom inside you. He stays planted there until his cock goes soft and he pulls out, pausing to examine his handiwork as it drips down the curve of your ass in pearlescent rivulets.

Makarov falls into the bed next to you and pulls you in close, letting you rest your head on his chest. You decide that cleanup can wait, right now you're content to melt into his embrace. He kisses your forehead and you hum contentedly.

"You sure you want a baby?" you ask, glancing up at him; he looks pensive, staring off into space in the darkness.

"Do you?" he finally looks down at you and his dark eyes are full of something you can't quite place.

"Maybe. Could you keep us safe?"

Makarov scoffs and knits his brows low over his eyes, "I'd kill anyone who even looked at you wrong."

You know he would. You've never felt unsafe for a moment since you met him, even though you know he's a hunted man.

"Then yes."

[princessbrunette]

shy!reader who study medicine and spider!jj always goes there when he's hurt for care 🥺

˚ ༘ 🕷️⋆🩷｡˚

answering the door at 4am, there’s only one person it could be. the blonde listens to you unlatching your door before you’re revealed in all your sleepy glory, rubbing at one eye in the cutest little pyjamas.

he’s pretty banged up this time — a busted lip and his suit is ripped at his rib cage, nothing he couldn’t fix but the gash beneath it was definitely something you were going to have to stitch up. your brows knit together, eyeing him over.

“you should see the other guy, cupcake.” he jokes, despite being in clear pain. you huff out your nose, tugging him inside.

“why are you using the front door? did anyone see you?” you stress, leading him by the hand to your quaint little living room. it wasn’t much, rather shabby if anything — but living in the city wasn’t cheap and it was the best you could do.

“ah, i used the fire escape. this asshole spared me some brain cells when he was kicking my shit in. you really think i’d just walk up in here?” he scoffs, dropping down comfortably on the couch as you frantically make space on the coffee table, spreading out your first aid kit.

“you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, jayj.” you pout, beginning to dig for the antiseptic.

“oh but then who will patch me up everytime i get my ass beat?” he tilts his head and his messy blonde hair flops with it, grinning lopsidedly in the dim light of the room, the cut on his lip glistening with it. you hate how your stomach stirs with butterflies for your best friend. your face gets all hot, averting your eyes and you feel him grinning harder — he always did love how bashful you got.

things get quiet when you start to wipe up his rib injury, aside from his dramatic winces and curse words tumbling from his mouth.

“you’re going to wake my neighbours.” you giggle, after a particularly loud ‘fuck’ from him.

“hey, maybe they’ll think you’re gettin’ some.” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows. as you reach for another cotton pad, your mouth moves on autopilot.

“i wish.” you remark, straying from your usual shy ways. his brows instantly jump up with intrigue, and you avoid his eyes, pressing your lips together as you busy yourself. you’d always been shy, since he’d met you — that’s why he’d taken you under his wing. he was dorky where it counted sure, but also boyish and confident in a way a lot of guys your age lacked. it made sense that he was spiderman, the unexpected amounts of unbridled swagger mixed with the scrappy awkwardness you’d expect from your best friend. he was drawn to your shyness because of how different you were, and because he knew deep down there was a freak just waiting for him to break it free.

“you know, if you ever wanna set up a — uh, lil payment plan, if you will — i could show you a real good time, mama.” he lays it on thick, too thick — incase you reject him, and then he can play it off as a joke. the problem is his tone is so teasing, you don’t know if he’s joking. your eyes flicker up to him from your knelt position, all doe-like and sweet in the way that makes him wish his spider suit wasn’t so tight as to not reveal his excitement.

“huh?”

“nah nothing. unless…you really get desperate. can totally step in and help you out. y’know in the…sex department.” he shrugs, tonguing at his lip cut and internally cussing himself out for being such a weirdo.

you blink a couple times, shifting to sit on your feet.

“are you concussed?” you speak after the pause.

“am i conc— no, okay it was a — an offer. but i feel like i kinda made it weird so that’s my bad let’s just pretend that didn’t happen and we can—”

“i wouldn’t mind.” you suddenly but quietly break through his ramble. he blinks a couple of times, lips parted in surprise.

“you wouldn’t mind — like… pretending this didn’t happen? or… the other thing?”

“the other thing.” you’re reduced down to a whisper now, eyes locked. he sits up slowly, leaning forward on the seat with his elbows on his knees so that your faces were close. in the low light, your pupils are all blown out, searching his eyes.

“you mean that?” he smirks, almost like he doesn’t believe you. you swallow and nod, not trusting your voice. something about it being 4am made you braver, and you’d completely forgotten about tending to his injuries. “well alright then. how ‘bout when i’m not bleeding out on your couch? gotta be in top condition when i put the moves on you.”

just like that, you’re brought back to reality — this time with the whisper of a promise that the two of you could be something more. you could be more than a late night emergency patch up.

˚ ༘ 🕷️⋆🩷｡˚

[reputayswift]

(☝️🥁✌️🥁☝️✌️🥁…wait, is this the song with the drums? 🤔)

I met a guy 🙋‍♂️ in the summer 🏖️ and I left him 🏃‍♀️💨🙍‍♂️ in the spring 🌷 he argued with me 🗣️🙄 about everything 🤷‍♀️ he had an:

ego 😎

and a temper 🤬

and a wandering eye 👀

he said he’s 6’2” 😌🧍‍♂️📏 and I’m like, “dude, nice try” 🤥🤏😭 but he was so much fun! 🥳 and he had such weird friends! 🤡🤡🤡 and he would take us out to parties and the night would never end! 👯‍♀️💃🪩🕺🌌 another:

☝️ song 🎶

✌️ club 🌃

☝️✌️ bar 🍻

✌️✌️ dance 💃🕺

and when he said something wrong 🗣️🤚😡 he’d just fly me to france 💁‍♀️✈️🇫🇷🥖 so I miss him some nights 😔🌠 when I’m feeling depressed 🙍‍♀️⛈️ (‘til I remember every time he made a pass at my friend 🤔💭😘🧍‍♀️) do I:

love him? 😍🥰

hate him? 🏃‍♂️🗡️🏃‍♀️💨🤬

I guess it’s up and down 🤷‍♀️⬆️⬇️ if I HAD to choose I would say right now…🤔

I WANNA:

get him back! 🏃‍♂️🗡️🏃‍♀️💨

make him really jealous 😠🟩 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

make him feel BAD 😭💔👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

I WANNA:

get him back! 🏃‍♂️💕🏃‍♀️💨

(‘cause then again 🤔 I really miss him 😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 and it makes me real SAD 😭💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨)

I WANT:

SWEET revenge 🏃‍♂️🗡️🤪

him again…😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

to get him BACK 😩 (BACK, back…)

so I write him all these letters 📝👩‍💻 and I throw them in the trash 🫳📃🗑️ ‘cause I miss the way he kisses 😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 and the way he made me laugh 😔💭🤭 yeah, I pour my little heart out 👩‍💻🤳🏻💕 but as I’m hitting send 👩‍💻👉💌 I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends 👩‍💻💭🫣🤢🥴🙄 because everyone KNEW 🧐🧐🧐🧐 all of the SHIT that he’d do 💩 he said I was the only girl 🗣️🤚🤭 but that just wasn’t the truth!! 🧍‍♀️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 and when I told him how he hurt me 🤬🗯️ he’d tell me I was trippin’ 🙄💬 but I AM my father’s daughter 👨‍⚕️🙋‍♀️ (so maybe I could fix him 🤷‍♀️👩‍⚕️🩺🧍‍♂️)

I WANNA:

get him back! 🏃‍♂️🗡️🏃‍♀️💨

make him really jealous 😠🟩 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

make him feel BAD 😭💔👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

I WANNA:

get him back! 🏃‍♂️💕🏃‍♀️💨

(‘cause then again 🤔 I really miss him 😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 and it makes me real SAD 😭💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨)

I WANT:

SWEET revenge 🏃‍♂️🗡️🤪

him again…😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

to get him BACK 😩 (and then? 🤔 🗣️ and then!!!!)

to get him BACK (back…back…)

I WANNA:

key his car…🚙🔑🤏😈

make him lunch 🍲✨👌😇🪽

break his heart…💔💥🔨😈 (then be the one to stitch it up ❤️‍🩹🪡🤏😇🪽)

kiss his face 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 (with an UPPERCUT 🤕💥🥊😈)

meet his mom 😇🤝👵 (just to tell her HER SON SUCKS!! 🗣️🗯️🫢)

I WANNA key his car…🚙🔑🤏😈 I WANNA make him lunch 🍲✨👌😇🪽I WANNA break his heart…💔💥🔨😈 stitch it right back up ❤️‍🩹🪡🤏😇🪽I WANNA kiss his face 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 with an UPPERCUT 🤕💥🥊😈 I WANNA meet his mom 😇🤝👵 and tell her HER SON SUCKS!! 🗣️🗯️🫢

🗣️👏 I WANNA:

get him back! 🏃‍♂️🗡️🏃‍♀️💨

make him really jealous 😠🟩 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

make him feel BAD 😭💔👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

🗣️👏 I WANNA:

get him back! 🏃‍♂️💕🏃‍♀️💨

(‘cause then again 🤔 I really miss him 😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 and it makes me real SAD 😭💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨)

I WANT:

SWEET revenge 🏃‍♂️🗡️🤪

him again…😔💭👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

to get him BACK 😩 (and then? 🤔 🗣️ and then!!!)

to get him BACK, back, BAaAaCK…

🎸🎸🎸 I’ll get him! I’ll get him! I’ll get him! I’ll get him 😈💕BACK!!💕😈 (🗣️👏🗣️👏) Get him back!! (🗣️👏🗣️👏)

🍺🥴 I'm gonna get him sooooo good, he's not even gonna know what hit him…he’s gonna love me and hate me at the same time 😇😈💕 (🗣️👏 you better get him BACK!) shsjdidk I got him good I got him REALLY good 🗣️🍻🥴

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Request here my dear

Villain offers a massage to hero because they know how exhausted he is after so many battles. Villain is very skilled and relaxes hero but when the hero has to get up he realises hes got a bit of an issue in his pants :)

Give us some sexual tension don't be shy ;)

"I get it," the villain said. "That much responsibility on your back. No wonder you're stiff."

The villain smiled to themselves as they dug their fingernails into the hero's back, dragging them down. And they weren't the only one enjoying it: the hero moaned in response and curled his back a little. To remind the hero who was in charge, they pressed him back into the bed and tutted.

"But I am still surprised that you crawled to me and begged me to either punch or hug you. Our golden boy is really at his limits, hm?" The villain put a flat hand on the hero's back and rubbed gently. The hero had been in their apartment quite a few times already. Never on his own terms, it was mostly the villain dragging him here to stitch his wounds. But admittedly, the villain enjoyed not being alone.

"I had a long week," he said, his face half-buried in the villain's pillows.

"It's Wednesday."

"So?" he asked, more exhausted than the villain had expected.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" they asked.

"Nah." He didn't even look at them. Unfortunately, the villain got a little too distracted by him. They looked at his broad back, big muscles relaxing, his body breathing rythmically. The villain was a little hot, not really knowing where their eyes were supposed to stay. It was a little overwhelming.

"I've been told I'm great at talking. About stuff like that." The villain let their hand travel up and down the hero's back, tender fingers moving in patterns and lines. The hero took in a deep breath and his head turned around, two sleepy eyes checking out their enemy.

"I'm gonna smell like you if I keep laying here," he said.

"See it as payment. You tell me what happened and I won't kick your ass."

"You decided not to kick my ass. I wouldn't mind a fight."

"Oh, really?" Once again, the villain let their nails scratch over the hero's back and this time, the hero squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling heavily. "Do you want to beg me to break your bones? That's a strange request."

"Fine," he mumbled. "I got transferred."

"What?!"

"Yeah, like half across the country. Fucking sucks." The villain didn't know what to say. The hero was the only reason why they had moved here. He was the only reason why they stayed.

"Christ, that's not..." The villain swallowed. Their fingers were still going up and down the hero's back but the villain wasn't even aware how close their fingertips were to the hero's waist band.

"I know, I tried to argue with them but they were convinced I needed to leave the city," he said. "I hope it's not because of us but I think it is."

"What do you mean?" the villain asked but they knew exactly what he meant. They weren't allowed to do this. To be in bed together, to know where the other was staying, to stitch up each other.

It wasn't normal.

"People might know about us. I don't really care about that. Reputation or gossip - I'll still save people and I'll still love the people that I love. It doesn't matter to me what they print." He still didn't really turn his body. "Can you move your hand?"

To the villain's surprise, they discovered that their hand had been on the hero's lower back for a little too long. They found another way up the hero's back.

"So, you're moving soon?"

"Unfortunately," he said. "Believe me, I am still trying to fight it out, it's just a lot of paperwork."

Well, what exactly held the villain back, then?

They hesitated. This was stupid.

But then, they leaned over and kissed the hero's cheek. The villain felt their own heart banging against their ribs, making them almost panic. However, the hero - although he seemed surprised - pressed a kiss to their lips. It was quick and awkward and for a second, the villain could only stare at the man in their bed, the only person that was important.

He turned a little and the villain couldn't help but go in for another kiss. Harder this time, more passionate. The villain had nothing to lose now. They were tired of pretending they weren't yearning for him and his body. They were tired of pretending not to notice his muscles or his messy hair or his raspy voice in the morning. Totally tired of pretending they didn't like his dumb jokes or how he didn't even have to stand on his tip-toes to reach the villain's coffee.

"Wait..." he murmured, "get on top."

And the villain did. The hero pulled them on top easily.

"Oh. Oh."

"Don't even-" But the villain had to giggle and moved their hips a little, just to rile him up even more. He could only moan quietly and grab the villain's thighs to stop them. "You're evil."

"You deserve a good goodbye," the villain answered but in reality, they let him struggle for twenty minutes until their hand finally dove down.