#I just needed a night like This i think all to myself in front of the tv with softdrinks and sour cream chips

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Just Giving In

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, truth curses (with a silly twist!), light fluff, angst, smut (fingering, p in v sex, creampie, light sub/dom but like so light), love confessions, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: You're under a very annoying truth curse. The kind of truth curse that will kill you if one very specific, Dean-related truth isn't told. But apparently no one's allowed to just die in peace anymore.

Author's Note: It's amazing how I'm able to delude myself into truly believing that I'll actually write something short and only horny. No. We must write 3k of story and 5k of emotional smut. Enjoy!

Title from Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine

Word Count: 8.6k

It’s past midnight when you get back to the bunker. 

You were supposed to be back that afternoon, but certain complications arose, and you’re back now. You’ll have a long, sleepless night to come up with an excuse for why exactly you were five hours late, didn’t text Sam and Dean that you were going to be five hours late, where exactly you were in the first place, and why the car looks like that. Scraped and dented and wrecked, like it had been put through a meat grinder and spat out in a hunk of metal that somehow didn’t explode when you drove it. 

You’re glad you didn’t take the Impala. If Dean yelled at you right now, you might start crying on the spot. Thankfully—in what should be a rare stroke of luck, but feels like a dagger right into your stomach—Sam and Dean seem to have given up on trying to wait for you to come home, so you’re free to retreat to your room and cry in private, like any reasonable adult who’s probably going to die within the week would-

“You’re back.” 

A light behind you flicks on as Dean snaps from across the room, and you grimace as everything inverts. Dean did wait up for you, and that’s tiny and electric high that goes right up your spine. You’re also not lucky, but that just feels like a given at this point. 

You will not cry in front of Dean. You have spent the whole night repeating to yourself that, no matter what happens here, you will not cry in front of Dean. He either think nothing of this week, and it will fade into the distance as you figure this out yourself and he never knows, or he’ll look back on it with nothing but simple grief and anger, remember you fondly and furiously instead of as a weak, emotional, manipulative bitch. Remembers you as the person you’ve spent so long proving yourself to be, instead of the feral girl they’d found you as. 

It doesn’t make turning around to face him any easier. He’s sitting in his usual chair, glaring at you with his arms crossed, and there are bags under his eyes that you put there. A tight line to his lips that’s your responsibility, because you’d fucked up and he knows it. He always knows it. 

Because you fuck up a lot.

“Hey, Dean, what’s up-“

“What’s up?” He snaps, and you have to force your body not to flinch. “You’re crawling back here at one in the goddamn morning without ever, I don’t know, thinking to fucking call when you realized you’d be late, and you’re saying what’s up?”

You swallow. “I lost my phone.”

“You, fuck-“ Dean rubs his jaw with a hand, giving you a look of pure disbelief. “You could’ve borrow someone’s, or prayed to Cas, or just, goddamnit-“ he mutters your name, looking at you with an exhaustion that makes your gut flail. “Where the hell even were you?”

“Um,” you glance down at your hands. “Hunt?”

“Hunt.” His voice is flat, and you wince. “That’s all you’re going to say.”

You nod. “Rowena called me. Needed help with something.”

“And you just fucking went with her, without telling anyone-“

“I didn’t just go with her, I brought a gun. I was careful.” you try to stand a little taller, looking back up to Dean, because you need to sell your half-truth of a story and get out of here. Out of where Dean’s just right there, and it’s making your skin crawl and your blood cold and your eyes push out of your skull the longer you lie to him. “And I did tell Cas-“

“Son of a bitch, that’s not enough.” Dean groans, pushing out of the chair to glower down at you. It’s an intimidation tactic you’ve seen him use before, where he makes himself large and furious, almost beast like. Sometimes it makes him look bigger than Sam, and he only pulls it out when he’s furious, and demanding answers. You don’t think he knows that, when he uses it on you, it does not have the intended effect.  

“Dean-“

“Cas didn’t tell us.” Dean hisses your name, stalking across the room and getting far too close for your brain to function properly. “You need to tell us, because we were, I was-“ Dean cuts himself off with a grunt, his whole body rigid as he scans over your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, and it’s the truth, so it’s like clear, fresh water over your head and down your throat. “I didn’t mean to freak you guys out. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t-” Dean’s jaw is clenched, and his words seem pushed through his teeth. “Just go to bed,” he mutters your name, and you feel something in your chest snap. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod weakly, and almost run away from him. But not to bed. You’ve already blown this up way too much to just go to bed. 

You go right to Sam’s room and bang on the door, keeping a careful eye over your shoulder for Dean to walk into the hall.

It takes a very long, tense minute, but eventually you hear a groan from the other side of the door, tired words muffled through the wood.

“Dean, she’ll be back, and you’re not helping anything-“ The door swings open to reveal a messy haired, bleary-eyed Sam, and he blinks at you with a frown. “Oh, you’re back. You should go tell Dean-“

“He knows.”

“Cool, that’s good.” Sam scans over you—bouncing slightly on your feet, every movement and breath feeling frantic and borrowed—and frowns. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, uh, you need to talk about it-“

You don’t bother to answer, pushing past Sam into his room and dropping on the end of his mattress, watching him blink at you, his frown deepening every second.

“Yeah, you can come in-“

“Can you please close the door?” You whisper, like Dean might somehow hear from wherever he’d gone after your fight. 

Sam nods slowly, and the movement you hear the click of the doorknob, the words start to fall out of you like vomit. 

“I fucked up, Sam. I really, really fucked up, it’s bad, I’m fucking fucked-“

“Woah, slow down.” Sam moves across the room, running a hand through his hair. “Just, start from the top. Where were you-“

“Rowena called me for help. Some sort of coven drama, she said she needed some backup because her magic was weakened.” You take a long, shaky breath, unable to look anywhere but the corner of Sam’s carpet. “I told Cas, just in case it was a trap, and left. I owed her a favor-“

“Wait, since when did you owe Rowena a favor-“

“Mark of Cain.” You mumble. “I told her I’d owe her if she helped Dean. One favor, cashable on anything.”

Sam says your name slowly. “You didn’t need to do that, we would have figured it out. I mean, Dean wouldn’t want you to-“

“I know, I don’t need you to-“ You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can we focus on one stupid choice at a time, please?”

“Yeah, sorry, keep going. Why are you fucked.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and decide to skip most of the details. Sam did not need to know about how the case was indeed at trap, or how you’d known it was a trap, but the favor had been a blood oath, so you weren’t able to run or call them. He didn’t need to know how you’d mowed down about five witches with the car—the sickening crunch still rattling around your skull—or how it wasn’t just blood and sweat on your brow, but something from an animal you’d really hoped you’d mistranslated from Latin. 

He just needs to know the reason you hadn’t killed Rowena when you’d escaped and taken out the rest of the coven. 

He just needs to know about the problem.

“It went to shit. Really big shit, Sam. I’m kind of… cursed.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when you finally gather the confidence to look at Sam, he’s gaping at you, frozen in place.

“What do you mean,” his voice is low, every word slow and deliberate. “Kind of cursed.”

“I mean very cursed.” You mumble. “Really fucking cursed.”

“Shit.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I said you were probably fine, Dean’s gonna kill me-“

“No!” You stand up frantically, your voice almost a squeak. “Don’t tell Dean!”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I tell Dean?!” Sam snaps, looking at you like you’ve gone insane. “If you’re really cursed, we need all hands, and Dean-“

“He can’t know, Sam, please.” You might start crying, every word choked in your throat. “Don’t tell him.”

“I…” Sam trials off, his face dropping into a deep frown that seems to be mostly made of worry as he says your name. “What, exactly, is the curse?”

You sigh, hugging yourself as you speak. “If I don’t resolve my deepest secret, I’ll die.”

Sam blinks. “Like, die die? Death die?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen as the situation fully sinks in, his whole body going slack as he pulls the pieces together. “Fuck.”

You hum a soft agreement. “Fuck.”

“And why can’t I tell Dean? I mean, he’ll want to help-“

“You know why.” You whisper. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Fuck.” Sam groans. “And you’d rather die than-“

“Yes.” You lower yourself down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare ahead at nothing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I just. I can’t. I don’t-“ You taste the sting of metal as you bite through your cheek. “I don’t know what to do. I’m going to d-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound, and hear the bed shift as Sam drops at your side and pulls you into a gentle hug.

“We’ll figure it out.” He mutters your name, and you make another weak, strangled noise. “I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Over your first, weak sob, you don’t hear the door open. You only know it opens because Dean clears his throat, and your blood turns white-hot in your body, caught between embarrassment and nerves and a deep, soft and starved piece of your heart that’s trying to climb into your limbs and rip your body away from Sam’s to fly to Dean’s.

“Sammy, she-“ He cuts himself off as he sees you, and you die a little at how he says your name. Like he hates it. “You’re in here.”

You nod, keeping your face angled down, and you hear Dean shift slightly in the doorway. 

“Why are you in Sam’s room.”

There’s no good answer for that, and Sam doesn’t seem to have one either. There’s no plausible lie for why you’re on the floor on Sam’s room, why you’re sniffling, and why he’s hugging you that doesn’t sound insane. Even the truth wouldn’t exactly be an easy sell.

And it hurts. When Dean just sighs and grunts that he doesn’t want to know—that you and Sam can go back to fucking braiding each other’s hair or whatever—and stomps out of the room, it’s like a knife to your gut. But you can’t tell him. Not the truth. Not any of it.

So this will only be the first knife. And you’d worry about what you would be telling him when this was over—how you could possibly explain yourself—if you had any faith you were going to get out of this. 

But you don’t. The week crawls on, and it all only gets so much worse. Vague illness starts to feel like you’re being mauled from inside, and Dean’s anger turns to bullets.

You spend most of your days in the library with Sam, combing through book after book, looking for anything about how you can fix this, and every time Dean walks in, he looks like he wants to punch someone. Like he’s disgusted by your very presence where he can see you, like you’re a spider that’s crawled into his house and he can’t even stand the sight of you. 

“I’m getting dinner.” He snaps on the third night, and when you look up from your book—Sam standing behind you, having hunched over your body to read the passage you’d been pointing to—Dean’s jaw is clenched, his fists curled at his side. “Neither of you got groceries, so I’m ordering. What do you want.”

His voice is flat. It makes your chest feel like it’s being run over by a train.

“I’ll take whatever you get.” You offer him a small smile, because you can’t help yourself, and it just makes him glare more. “But can I please have a milkshake as well?”

Dean narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know where the hell I’m going.”

“You’re going to the diner, Dean.” You shrug. “You always go to the diner.”

He grunts, something hot flashing over his face that you don’t understand. “Fine. Milkshake.”

He doesn’t bother to ask any follow-up questions. He doesn’t bother to wait for Sam to say what he wants. Dean just marches up to the garage, vanishes for an hour—the diner is ten minutes away, and you start to feel your stomach and heart twist the longer he’s gone—and returns with a slam of the door, throwing a salad at Sam and placing a burger and milkshake in front of you before stomping out of the library.

Dean got your favorite flavor. You hadn’t told him to, but he had.

It tastes like chalk. And you’ve never hated yourself more.

After that, he barely speaks to you. Just low grunts and glowers at you whenever you cross paths, his presence in the bunked suddenly scares. He’d usually sit with you and Sam while you read, cracking unhelpful jokes that make Sam roll his eyes and you giggle, but he’s just gone. Locked in the Dean Cave or the garage, shuffling around the kitchen with a sullen expression, swallowing his dinner whole and refusing to really even look at you.

It hurts more than any anger could. It’s lonely and cancerous the longer it goes on, because you’re still talking to and hanging out with Sam, but he doesn’t count. Your whole heart isn’t orbiting around Sam. The curse is completely indifferent to Sam. The curse doesn’t care when Sam grumbles or frowns at you. It cares when Dean hates you. You think it can feel that this won’t be resolved—because it won’t be, you grow more and more certain with every passing day that this is how you will die—and takes the opportunity to root deeper into your body. Every sneer or glare Dean gives you sits under your nails to claw at your skin. It covers you in sweat in the dead of night, and chokes you when you’re in the shower and the water’s burning your skin.

Sam keeps trying to convince you to just do it, just say the thing to Dean because the worst that can happen is that you’re heartbroken but alive.

“And I really don’t think it would even come to that.” He tells you from across the table at 2am, because you’re running out of time and sleep isn’t something you can even remember how to do anymore. “I mean, it’s Dean-“

“That’s the problem, Samuel.” You hiss. The curse has started to make you mean, and if you make it out alive, you’ll have to buy Sam a million bottles of hair gel to make up for what you’re putting him through. “It’s Dean. He already doesn’t like me-“

Sam frowns. “Why would you think that-“

“Because I’m a responsibility.” You’re spitting, and it tastes like venom. “I’m your kid shadow, I’m Dean’s kid shadow, I’m a burden-“

“You’re not a burden,” Sam says your name slowly. “To either of us. I mean, if what you said about Rowena is true, you saved Dean from the Mark-“

“That doesn’t count. That was just a deal I made-“

“A deal you made for Dean.” Sam’s pushing back. You wish he’d stop. “Most people in our lives wouldn’t have done that for us. And Dean doesn’t think you’re his kid shadow, by the way. I mean, I’ve only ever-“

“Sam.” Your voice is flat. A little broken. “Please don’t. Even if he doesn’t hate me, I- I just can’t-“

“But Dean-“

“Please.” You’re going to cry again. “You won’t convince me.”

Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Well, we need to try something. I’m not just going to let you die.”

You don’t think that’s up to Sam. You don’t think it’s up to anyone anymore. You won’t tell Dean, because you’ve scanned over book after book about spell phrasing, and decided that telling Dean wouldn’t even help. You had to resolve your deepest secret. Rejection that burns your heart to ash, that clouds your lungs and makes you cower and falter won’t be resolving anything, and then you’ll just die in more pain.

You let Sam convince you to try something. More for him than for you. You lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at your hideous reflection in the mirror—your skin a little sunken, your eyes lined with red, your lips raw from being chewed until they bled—and start speaking a whisper, because you can’t stand the sound of your own voice.

“I love Dean Winchester.” You tell yourself, as if you’re not so deeply aware of how your love is tattooed onto your every breath and heartbeat. “I love him. I am going to die, and I love him, and I am very-“ You choke slightly, your eyes stinging as the world blurs. “I am very, very sorry. Not for loving him, but for forcing him to be loved by me. I’m sorry I don’t know how to stop loving him. I’m sorry I’m leaving him. But I am not sorry for loving him. I… I spent a lifetime surrounded by cruel animals who called themselves angels, and he’s the only person I’ve ever- I could believe- I just-“ You drop your head, turning up the faucet to drown out every weak sob and apology. “I love him. And he… he’s too good be obligated to love me. So I think I’ll just…”

You trail off, and crumble onto the tile floor. When you dry your tears and yank yourself back together, Sam’s waiting for you a little down the hall. You shake your head, his shoulders slump, and that’s it. For Sam it’s not—he turns around and marches right back to the library—but for you, it is. You’re done. 

You’ll hole up in your room and die alone. Like how’d you’d been meant to all along, lent only a little bit of extra time by Dean saving you to begin with.

And that time had run out. So you’ll just go die alone.

lay flat on your bed as your vision starts to dance with spots, and spend your time trying to image what a heaven you’re not allowed into will look like. Cas has told you every person gets their own, but you don’t really want that. It sounds like more of your life, and it’s pointless to worry about because you’re headed nowhere but down, but you’d still rather spend eternity with someone.

One person. You’d like to spend eternity with one person. 

The same person who had somehow gotten into your locked room, and is snapping your name as he stands at the foot of your bed. You’d be angrier he’d just barged in if you could remember how to be anything but in pain. You’d snap back if your mouth knew how to be anything but numb. 

“Dean-“

“What the fuck are you doing.” Dean hisses, and you close your eyes, the light suddenly painfully bright. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” You whisper, and he scoffs. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Dean, I just don’t feel well.”

“That’s fucking bullshit-“

You sigh. “It’s not. I’m sick.” 

There’s a moment of silence, then, “how sick.”

“Fever.” You mumble. “Stomach bug. Maybe the flu. You should probably leave-“

“No,” he grunts, and you hear his steps. He’s coming closer, and your skin might be boiling off your body. “I’m not leaving you-“

“It’s not leaving if I ask you to go.” You mumble, and you can feel the heat of his body off to the side, can hear his breathing—maybe even his heartbeat—and it’s making everything worse-

“I’m not going.”

“Dean, just, please-“

“No, I’m sick of you fucking ignoring me, and I- I don’t even care what’s going on with you and Sam-“

You frown. “Nothing’s going on with me and Sam-“

“I have eyes,” Dean sneers your name, and there’s a tone in his voice that’s almost wounded. “You were hugging in his room, you’re always fucking whispering and hanging out-“

“That’s not-“ You swallow, dragging your eyes open to find him glaring down at you. He looks wounded too. “It’s for a case.”

“What case? A case that I’m not allowed to know about? Because that’s not a case, sweetheart, that’s a secret-“

You almost throw up, just from that word. “It’s- I’m not keep any secrets, Dean, just please go-“

“No!” He’s almost shouting, and the sound is like a cannon into your gut. “I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but you’re suddenly putting yourself in danger, and stuck to my brother, and you’re not talking to me anymore-“

“You’re not talking to me, Dean.” You whisper, his gaze burning you right down to the cavity of your chest. “I’m always in the library-“

“Yeah, I know, with Sam.” Dean scowls, and you’re too tired to think almost anything, but that’s strange. Dean never says Sam like that. Like it’s a horrible word. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, watching Dean carefully. “He’s helping me with something-“

“Something I can’t help you with?”

You blink, ready to lie and say no, but your mush of a brain doesn’t appear to be up to that task. “No.”

Dean’s brow furrows slightly. “So I could help you.”

“I-“ You feel a stab in your intestine, and your voice grows hoarse. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Why-“

“Because I- Just go away, Dean-“

He shakes his head, saying your name in a stern, unwavering voice. “Could I help you-“

“N-“ You swallow a groan as your lungs contract, and this is dangerous. You’re too far gone to lie anymore, and that’s the only chance you have. If Dean keeps poking at you, you’ll tell the truth. You can’t tell the truth. “Please just leave me alone-“

“I’m not leaving you alone.” He snaps, dropping onto the side of your bed to prove his point. “You never left me alone, with the Mark-“

“That’s not-“ You can’t swallow your next sound of pain, or the whine that leaves your throat when Dean’s hand grabs your thigh. “Dean, please go-“

“Do you want me to go.”

“No.” You say it before you can think, and hate that the pain over your muscles lessens when Dean stays, and when his hand starts to rub slow circles. “But you- you have to-“

“I said I’m staying.” He grunts. “And you’re not changing my mind, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“I did.” You whisper, closing your eyes again. Looking at his handsome, annoyingly determined face isn’t helping anyone. “I’m sick.”

“Fine. What’s making you sick.”

“Curse.”

Fuck.

Dean’s silent for a long moment, then-

“What the fuck do you mean, curse.”

“Me.” You mumble. “Curse on me.”

“And how did a curse get on you-“

“Rowena.”

“That fucking bitch.” He mutters, and you feel his grip on you tighten slightly. Almost protectively. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me-“

That was probably a rhetorical question. Your sudden truth-telling streak doesn’t seem to care at all. “I was worried you’d hate me.”

“I- what?”

“I was worried-“

“I heard you,” he grunts. “I just, why the hell would you ever think I’d hate you-“

“Because I suck.” You whisper. “And I can’t- I don’t deserve you.”

Dean’s silent again. You wish he’d stop doing that. “You think you don’t deserve me?”

You nod, barely a movement at all, and Dean groans. You’re still not strong enough to look at him.

“Sweetheart, you- I’m not-“ He cuts himself off, his hand resuming his circles, you’re not sure he knows he’s doing it. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to tell me the truth. Got it?”

You hum. Like you’d even have a choice.

“What will cure the curse.”

“I need to,” you try to fight down the words, but you’re light-headed and faint and Dean’s hand is really warm, so you fail. “I need to resolve my deepest secret.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “What’s your deepest secret?”

You’re going to bite off your tongue. And when Dean says your name again, his voice a little rougher, it drags your eyes open to stare at him. Watching you with a focus you can feel in your bones, that’s prying the truth out of you, and he’s just looking at you and you can’t do this-

“Dean, I-“ You digs your nails into your skin, something flashes in his eyes, and you can’t look away. But you can’t stop yourself either, and if you have to watch Dean’s disgust, that might kill you right here. “Please turn around.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I need you to turn around.” You whisper. “Please.”

He nods slowly, twisting away from you, and it’s like a green light to your stupid, traitorous mouth. The words fall out of you like vomit, and if this is the end, at least it might be fast. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, and I don’t want to stop, and I love you. Only you. Just you. Can’t remember how to love anyone else, because I love you. I love your jokes and your grumpiness and how protective you are because you make me feel safe, and I love that you’re kind of a dork and a loser but you’re also so hot, I love your voice and your face and your hands, and I and I want you in a, um-“ You squeeze your thighs together, staring at the suddenly rapid rise and fall of Dean’s back. “A way that I shouldn’t talk about-“

“How do you want me.” He grunts, his voice low and a little gruff, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“On me.” You whisper. “In me. I want you on my face and in my hands and fuck, I want your inside of me. But I also want to wake up next to you and hold your hand and fall asleep in your lap, and fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a whine as something sharp hits your right in the heart, and Dean’s silent. He’s not turning around, or leaving, or doing anything but sitting and breathing for so long, for too long-

“You-“ He shakes his head slightly, and you could swear he’s leaning slightly backward. “You want me.”

“Yeah, I- yes.”

“You love me.”

“Yes.” Too late to go back now. “I love you, Dean.”

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounds broken. He sounds sad.

You’re so confused. It’s almost enough to distract from the pain racking your whole body.

“I- I didn’t think you’d-“ Not care. Dean couldn’t not care. He cares too much. “I wasn’t sure what-“

“What I’d say?”

“What you’d do.”

“What would you-“ He’s definitely leaning back. He’s closer, too. “What would you want me to do?”

“What would I want?” 

Dean nods.

“I- it doesn’t matter-“

“Yes it-“ He sighs, twisting around to face you. You can’t read the expression on his face. It’s lost and it’s afraid and it’s… hopeful. There’s this small light that’s so deep in his eyes that seems like real, true hope. “Please,” he mutters your name, and you might be melting. “Just, entertain me. What would you want me to do?”

“I’d want to tell me you love me.” You whisper, and if this curse is going to kill you, you hope it does it now, right before you lose all your dignity forever. “Like I love you.”

Dean shakes his head slightly, and your heart might be splitting in half. “But I- I tried to kill you-“

“The demon tried to kill me. That wasn’t really you-“

“Yes, it was-“

“No.” Your voice gains a little strength, and you push up on your elbows. “You saved me, Dean. You rescued me from the angels-“

“Anyone would’ve done that-“

“But they didn’t.” You snap. “You did. And I don’t love anyone, I love you.”

“That’s-“ He groans, his voice growing hoarse. “You- why?”

“What do you mean, why-“

“Why would you love me? I mean, unless this is some sick, fucked up prank-“

“It’s not a prank-“

“Well why?” He shouts your name, and he looks distressed. Like this is shredding him apart. “Why the hell would you love me-“

“Because I like loving you.” You grab his hand, his own panic starting to set into your own body, making this all the worse. “It feels right. And I- I know you don’t love me-“

You’re not sure what’s happening. Dean’s hands are cupping your face, and his mouth is on yours, and he tastes like whiskey and coffee and pecan, and you feel okay. You really feel okay. All the pain and sickness is dissolving from your body, and Dean is kissing you. Kissing you with an unforgiving, demanding desperation, his tongue down your throat and his body lowering down over yours, pinning you to the bed as he groans against your lips.

The sound jumpstarts something in you. Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck right before he can pull away or hesitate, and you throw everything he’s silently offering you back to him. Biting on his lower lip and wrapping your legs around his torso, grinding up into him as he makes a deep, satisfied noise and moves one hand to wrap around you waist, holding you steady against him as he rises up, moving you to stay in his lap.

“You’re, shit.” Dean lets out a low chuckle, pressing a small, gentler kiss to the tip of your nose as you breathe in ragged time. “You’re such a fucking idiot, sweetheart.”

You lean back to frown at him. “No I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are. But I am too.” He sighs, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and speaking against your skin. “Seems like we’re made for each other, huh.”

“Dean, I-“

“Wait, just-“ Dean kisses up the column of your throat, ending right behind your ear, and his voice a low sound that falls right down into your core. “Gimme a second.”

“Dean-“

“Please,” he mutters, and when you pull back he looks nervous. It’s strange, but adorable, and you nod. He needs a second, you’ll give him a million. Anything to keep him here a little longer, to keep the ebb of the sickness going. 

“Okay.” You whisper, and—taking the biggest gamble of your life—lean forward to kiss him again. Just a light, almost innocent press of your lips to his. He tenses, his arms around you tightening, and you’d have panicked if it didn’t seem like he was clinging to you. Like he was afraid you were going to vanish. 

“I- uh,” Dean says your name slowly, and it’s odd. You’ve heard him say it exactly like that a million, but this feels deeper. Like a prayer. “I lo-“ He cuts himself off, his brow drawing tightly together, and you can feel your heart in your throat. Set to either explode or move into Dean as you hold your breath. “You. I- you- it’s- fuck.” He scowls, and you offer him your gentler smile, running a hand over the soft stubble on his jaw, even as you feel your blood start to go cold again.

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

“Yeah. I do, I-“ He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and speaking against them as if he’s trying to tell your body more than your mind. “I love you. A lot. So stop being cursed.”

You stare at him, your voice barely a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Did it work?”

It did. The curse seemed to vanish the moment Dean kissed you—like it knew that what he was trying to tell you before he even said it—but now the world is just color and light and Dean. It’s enchanting. He’s enchanting. He’s all genuine and powerful focus on you, and. worry that makes you feel warm, and love you can suddenly see everywhere on him. You don’t know how you missed it before, because it’s in his eyes and coating his lips and in every flex of his body around you. It would knock you down if he wasn’t holding you. 

“Yeah.” You smile at Dean, and his own mouth tugs up slightly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Any time. I, uh, sorry about getting pissed about you and Sam.“

“It’s fine, I-“ You paused, frowning at him. “Were you jealous?”

He scowls, his cheeks turning a little red. “Obviously.”

“Of Sam-“

“You were really close with him all the time.” Dean snaps. “And I- you seemed pissed at me, and super stressed, and usually you’d come to me for that stuff, but you were hugging Sam and talking to him instead of me-“

“Because I don’t love Sam. I love you, that’s why I told you-”

“I didn’t fucking know that.” He grumbles. “I- Sam doesn’t know everything about how I feel about you, but he knew enough, and I- I thought you were choosing him- And I- You’re not my girl but you felt like my girl and I didn’t-“

“Your girl?” Your face splits into a wide smile, and some of the tension seems to leave Dean as he nods. 

“Yeah. If you want.”

“Yes.” You squeak, and Dean’s hand starts to run slowly down your thigh. “Yes, please.”

“You sure?” He raises his brows, and it’s really hard to think when he’s so close, and this is suddenly overwhelmingly real. He’s really broad and warm against you, and he’s really touching you, and he said the thing but that doesn’t mean-

“Yeah, but are, are you sure-“

“Baby, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He drawls, and you swallow as he leans in closer, his nose bumping yours. “And I’d be very happy to prove that.”

“Prove it?” You whisper, your eyes trapped onto his glimmering, darkened ones. “I, um, that, how-“

“However you’d like,” he says your name with a smirk, and it’s amazing how any all insecurity he had only a minute ago seems to have vanished. “You wanna tell me how’d you want me to prove it? Or do you need some suggestions?”

You might be drooling. “Suggestions, please.”

Dean hums, holding you carefully as he rises on his knees, bends you down onto the mattress, and starts to trace slow, taunting hands over your body.

“We could start slow,” he mutters, playing with the hem of your shorts, broad fingers brushing over your skin. “I could take my time with you, sweetheart. Do the proper thing, take you out to dinner and movie, wait until the third date to give you everything-“

“No!” You yelp. “Not slow-“

Dean’s hand slides under your shorts, his palm resting right over your already sore pussy, and he chuckles at your high gasp. 

“Alright, baby, not slow.” He leans down to pull you into a long, slow kiss, smirking against your lips as you start to grind into his hand. “But we’re going on a date. I’ve had years to plan it, wouldn’t want all my hard work to go to waste.”

You nod a little stupidly, your nails digging into his arm braced near your head. “How- what do you mean years-“

“You’re not the only one who had that at first sight thing.” Dean mutters, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve lost sleep over you, baby girl. We’re going to do this right, no witches involved, but,” he drops his head to kiss right behind your ear, humming as a high moan escapes your lips. “I’ve got a million things I want to do you, and fuck me if I’m going waste time not doing them.”

“Yeah, good, do that-“ You gasp as Dean’s thumb finds your clothed clit, starting to draw firm, fast circles around it. “Shit, Dean-“

“That’s my name.” He growls in your ear, flicking against you and smirking at your high whine. “C’mon, sweetheart gotta get you ready for me-“

“I, I’m ready-“

He chuckles. “No, you’re not. Wanna make you feel good, not break you.”

“What if, fuck-“ You feel a brief, sharp moment of cold air as Dean pulls your shorts and panties down, shoving two fingers into your cunt. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s studying your every hitched breath and blurred gaze, smirking as he begins to slowly move inside of you, scissoring and crooking and pushing in deeper every time-

“What if what, pretty girl?” He teases, his pace increasing slightly. “Use your words.”

Your back arches off the bed as Dean re-angles his hand, pressing his palm to your clit and starting to rub strong, sharp circles as his fingers reach a blissful, almost painfully good pace, but remain too shallow to hit that sensitive spot deep your cunt and send you over the edge. “What if I want you to break me?” You gasp, your arm wrapping around his neck as he groans, dropping his brow against yours. “Please, Dean-“

“You, fuck-“ He grunts your name, and you feel something prodding at your inner thigh. “Not now, baby, need to be gentle-“

“No you don’t-“

“Yeah, I do.” Dean’s movements still as he rises on his knees over you, and you’re pretty certain the authoritative thing is supposed to be stern and intimidating, but it’s mostly just making you grind on his hand and reach up for him pathetically.

“Dean-“

“Listen to me.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress, sighing as you moan again, squeezing around his fingers, still in your cunt. “Fuck, you nearly just died-“

“I’m okay now.” You whisper. “I feel great. I feel, fuck Dean, I feel so good-“

He hisses as you spread your legs, writhing on the bed for anything, at this point you’ll take anything Dean offers you-

“Fuck yeah, you do.” He mutters, his fingers starting to pump slowly again, scanning over your body with an almost awestruck expression. “Bet you feel like heaven, baby girl, but we need to go slow. I promise I can wreck you later, but today-“

“Slow.” You sigh, and he nods.

“Slow. But,” Dean’s free hand starts to trail under your shirt, palming at your breasts, rolling your nipples between calloused, strong fingers. “Doesn’t mean we can’t take care of you, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy, still going to get you fucking cockdrunk. Okay?”

You nod, your eyes slightly glazed over, and Dean bends his fingers deep inside you, right one that spot, letting out a low gasp as you whine.

“Say okay, sweetheart.” He grunts, his hand moving from your breast, over your neck, to your mouth, pressing his thumb on your lower lip until it parts. You moan against him, your eyes fluttering slightly, and you’re already too high, too needy, to do anything but listen.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” He coos, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips, his nostrils flaring when you start to suck on him with an abandon. “Fuck, so good, I can’t wait to ruin you, baby, you’re never gonna even think about another cock-“

You haven’t thought about another cock in years, and you haven’t even seen it yet. But Dean’s thumb is bumping the back of your throat, so all you can do is moan, give him your best pleading look, and let your head fall back as Dean’s fingers finally move inside of you, pushing and playing on the spot until your orgasm washes over you in bright waves of good. So good. Just, fuck, he’s good-

Dean’s thumb pulls out of your mouth with a pop, and he wipes a little bit of spit off on your upper lip before lowering his mouth to yours, this kiss far too soft and gentle for how you think you might die if he doesn’t fuck you now.

“Look so pretty, cumming on my hand.” Dean moves to the shell of your ear, his growling promise sending a shiver up your spine. “Bet you’ll look prettier fucking squeezing my cock.”

You barely have time to whimper when Dean yanks his fingers out of your cunt, rolls you over so you’re straddling his torso, and raises you up by your hips before pushing you right down onto his dick. You don’t even remember when he took off his pants, or where your shirt went, but those are worries for someone who isn’t being split open on Dean’s cock. Who doesn’t have him drawing small circles on their inner thigh, or isn’t being held up by his hand on their waist.

But you do. You have Dean everywhere, real and warm under your hands as you grip his shoulders, bumping deep against your cervix as he lets you adjust to the size of him, one broad finger reaching down to press—light and taunting—on your clit, and groaning as you squeeze around him.

“Shit,” Dean grunts your name, looking up at you under hooded eyes in a way you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you before. As if you’re somewhere they’d always expected to be, and they’re still in awe that you’re there. “Gotta be careful, want this to-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you grind on him experientially, clenching again as he hits that electric spot deep inside you. He grabs you firm by your hips, stilling your every movement as he gives you a stern glower. 

“You need to listen.” His voice is gravely and lower than you’ve ever heard it, and you’d do whatever he told you to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t whine and scratch lightly at his chest. 

“Dean, move-“

“You gonna listen?”

“Yes, just, fuck-“ You gasp as he pulls you up with barely a grunt, slamming your right back down with a roll of your hips. 

“Want you to feel good, baby girl, but you need to be careful,” Dean drags one had down to squeeze your ass, his hand still on your waist drawing light circles around your clit. “Or next time might be more than wrecking.”

Your moan is vulgar and shameless, and you’re more than ready to devote sleep to figuring out what more than wrecking will look like, but right now you just fucking need this. 

“Need more, Dean,” you whisper. “Need it so bad-“

“I know, sweetheart.” He mutters, trailing his hand up your stomach to squeeze your breast, groaning when you squirm around him. “Think you’re ready to ride this cock? Think you can handle, shit-“

You’d stared to move the movement he’d said ride, rolling your body and arching your back, dragging every bit of confidence you have to grind down onto Dean’s cock, your nails sinking into his abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean’s voice is a breath under you, and when you scan over him, he lookslike he’sa little wrecked himself.His eyes on yours are hooded and low, his voice dripping with that same dominating confidence, but something more delicate in the way he’s touching you. Not as if he’s afraid to break you, but afraid you’ll shatter him. 

And you did that. You wrecked Dean. And that lights a wildfire in your gut, running through your nerves until they’re sensitive and bare, and into your brain until it’s all just Dean.

You start to move. Slowly at first to test the waters, but—when Dean just groans and ruts up into you—quickly picking up pace until you’re bouncing on Dean’s cock, your thighs squeezing his torso and your clit rubbing on his abdomen, his ever grunt and hiss and bruising grip just making your need grow bigger as you slam him onto that deep spot-

“Shit, I’m- Slow down-“ 

Dean’s hiss is low, and you immediately obey, changing to long, slow movements as Dean hums. 

“There you go baby, such a good girl.” His hand moves from your ass to your lower back, rubbing soothing patterns as he praises you. “You’re so hot baby, fucking ruined on my cock-“

You make a high, breathless sound you don’t recognize, moving your hips in a circle to try and chase more friction, and Dean chuckles.

“You alright up there-“

“Good,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut to try and focus your all on Dean beneath you. “So good, Dean, feels so good-“

“Need a little more?”

“Yes-“

“More descriptive than that, sweet girl.” He teases, and when this is done, you’re going to kill him. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to-“

“You,” the word falls out without thought, because most of you belongs to Dean. “Just you, only need you-“

“You love me?” Dean’s voice is low, and when you open your eyes to look at him, there’s a small chink in his armor. You don’t know if you pried it open, or if you’ve just never noticed, but you can see right into him, and he still doesn’t really believe that you love him.

And that’s the only thing you’ve ever really know. You loving Dean has been the only truly certain thing in your life, because Dean’s a given and loving him feels like breathing.

So you smile at him, reaching forward to cup his face, and tell him with everything you have, hoping he can hear how the words are in time with your heart.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I’m yours.”

He blinks at you, shaking his head slightly even as his dick twitches inside you. “You don’t need to be, it’s- you know, dirty talk-“

“I know.” You shrug. “I’m still yours.”

Dean’s nostrils flare, and you know you’re not getting control back from him for the rest of the night.

You’re fine with that. Dean starts to rock you back and forth around him, letting you just fall into and around him, and your lost to any world that isn’t Dean. Isn’t his hand splayed on your lower back or his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and ass. Anything that isn’t his cock hitting part of you that you didn’t know existed and filling you up so much you’re not sure how you’re ever going to manage being empty again.

You don’t think you will have to manage. Dean’s holding you like he’s trying to brand himself on your body, like he needs you feel him for the rest of your life. And you will. You’ll feel the bliss Dean’s drawing from your body that’s better than any heaven you could have imagined, rising slowing below the surface, ready to burst at any moment.

You’ll hear him too. Hear every deep noise of his own pleasure, hear the slapping of his skin on yours, hear his low praise echo around your head and ribs for the rest of your life.

“You’re mine, baby girl.” He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest and rolling right into your pussy, making you throw your head back with a breathy whimper. “Fuck, you’re so hot riding me, feel so good around me, tight and warm-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you reach behind your body, your hand finding his balls to squeeze lightly. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart-“ He groans, jerking slightly inside of you. “Fuck, keep doing that, so fucking needy for me, fucking soaking this cock-“

You grind around him, and his pace starts to lose rhythm. Even after he swats your hand away you know he’s lost his own self-control, and fuck he looks hot without it. Starting to rut up into you in uncontrolled movements, pulling you to pieces with a lustful, ardorous gaze and brutal pace and strong hands, moving back to your clit and rolling it between his fingers-

Your mouth falls open in a silent, needy cry of pleasure as your orgasm bursts over you. It’s not sudden, but you couldn’t never anticipated the power of it—like someone had doused you in gasoline that smells like whiskey and fruit, lit a match, and turned to into a star—or how it rides on and on, never seeming to crest or crash as Dean slams home inside of you, warmth coating your pussy and running down your thighs as he moans your name. 

Dean helps you float down to earth, leaving careful, deliberate touches on your skin and humming as his knees rising up to support you. You watch his gaze rakes down your body, lingering on where he can see himself spill out of your pussy, and moves to slowly drag through the mess, gathering some on two fingers before rising them up to your mouth. You open without hesitation and his throat bobs, his cock twitching inside you as you lick his release off his hand, your eyes never leaving his wide, reverent one.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You stole my line.”

“Nah.” He shrugs, tracing a hand over your cheek. “You could have anyone you want, baby, but you’re here, with an asshole like me-“

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Yeah, I am.” He shrugs, like you can’t see how his own words pierce him through that chink. “Shit, I just accused you of sleeping with Sam-“

“And I’ve been lying to you for years.” You lean down, resting your chin on his chest, giving him your widest smile. “Neither of us are saints, Dean. And I happen to be the right kind of fucked up to let possessiveness hot.” You pause, giving him your best stern glare. “To a degree. I will slap you the next time you accuse me of fucking Sam.” 

Dean laughs, his around wrapped—gentle and relaxed—around you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You hum, resting your head to the side, and you might be here for a hundred years. Time blurs and slows until it’s just Dean’s heartbeat near your ear, his thumb tracing a pattern on your arm, and his face buried in your hair. The end of the world might have already come to pass when his hand moves to your chin and he angles your gaze to his, and you wouldn’t really care. You’re still where you need to be.

“Would you,” he lets out a slow breath, all his cocky arrogance gone, his eyes on yours nervous. The hope is back, but it’s wrapped in soft fear. “I’m not good at- shit-“

He’s going to hurt himself, and you take pity on him. You lean does to press a sweet kiss to his mouth, letting your tongue trail over his lips, and rising back up with a small smile.

“Can we go on a date, Dean?” 

He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah. Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Your smile strains at your cheeks, because you only want Dean. 

And you’ll have to write Rowena a thank you note, because you finally have him.

End Note: Me make a story with no prior lore challenge: impossible

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007

[woozinhos]

Hii! I hope your doing well! Can you do a s.coups sugar daddy headcannon with a dash of smut? If it's uncomfortable to write please do not do it! Thank you so much! 🫶🏻

Sugar Daddy Cheol

- Seungcheol loves to take control in the bedroom. He's a dominant lover who knows exactly how to drive you wild with desire. He loves to tie you up and tease you until you're begging for more.

- Seungcheol has a secret kink that he's never told anyone about. He loves to be called "Daddy" in bed. The word makes him feel powerful and dominant, and he gets off on the idea of taking care of his sugar baby in every way possible.

- Whenever Seungcheol is stressed out or feeling overwhelmed, he turns to you for comfort. He loves to lie on your lap and let you play with his hair, feeling safe and relaxed in your arms.

- One day, Seungcheol decides to surprise you with a trip to a luxurious hotel for the weekend. He wants to pamper you and show you just how much he appreciates you.

As soon as you arrive at the hotel, Seungcheol scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. He lays you down on the plush bed and begins to undress you slowly, savoring every moment of your naked body beneath him.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers in your ear, his hands roaming over your curves. "And all mine."

Seungcheol's eyes darken with desire as he gazes down at you, completely exposed and vulnerable beneath him. He runs his hands over your body, tracing every curve and dip with his fingertips.

"You have no idea how much I've been thinking about this," he growls, his voice low and husky. "How much I've been dreaming of having you all to myself."

He leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he devours you. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily, and trails kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he promises, his hands roaming lower and lower down your body. "I'm going to make you forget everything but me."

He reaches down and grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head as he hovers over you. "You're mine tonight," he growls, his eyes dark with possessiveness. "And I'm going to claim every inch of you."

-However there’s other times where he becomes jealous it’s so hot

Seungcheol couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched you interact with one of his colleagues. The way the man laughed at your jokes, touched your arm, and smiled at you made his blood boil. He knew he had no right to feel jealous - you were his sugar baby, not his girlfriend. But seeing you with another man still stung.

Later that night, Seungcheol was sitting in his office, trying to focus on his work, but his mind kept wandering back to you and the man from earlier. He couldn't shake the feeling of possessiveness that had taken over him. He wanted to mark you as his own, to show everyone that you belonged to him and only him. The thought consumed him, driving him wild with desire.

He stood up abruptly, unable to focus any longer, and walked out of his office. He needed to see you, needed to remind himself that you were his. Seungcheol stormed into your apartment, his eyes blazing with a mix of desire and possessiveness. He saw you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "We need to talk."

You looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his eyes. "What's wrong?" you asked, sensing that something was off. Seungcheol didn't answer right away. Instead, he stalked over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stood in front of you, towering over you, and pulled you up into his arms.

"You're mine," he said, his voice firm and possessive. "No one else's. Do you understand?"

You nodded, feeling a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his voice. You had never seen him like this before - so possessive and dominant.

Seungcheol's grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer to him. "I don't want to see you with anyone else," he growled, his lips hovering over your ear. "Ever."

You could feel his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers of desire through your body. You knew that you were in trouble - but you also knew that you loved it.

"Say it," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Only yours."

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire at your words, and he pulled you even closer to him, crushing you against his chest.

"Good girl," he growled, his hands roaming over your body possessively. "You belong to me, and only me. I don't want to share you with anyone."

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue plundering your mouth as he claimed you as his own. You melted into his embrace, completely surrendering to his dominance. Seungcheol lifted you up and carried you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I'm going to remind you who you belong to," he promised, his voice thick with desire.

[moody-alcoholic]

On a Wing and a Prayer

Part 11 - Epilogue

CW: nightmares.

AN: I have had so much fun writing this. It was such a breath of fresh air to take a break from my main series and write a quick 'mini fic'. I have other ideas for more 'mini fic's' in the future. For now I thought I should wrap this up. Thank you for everyone who liked commented and shared this around, even for people who just read it and enjoyed it, thank you so much and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

Previous parts - masterlist

As soon as Simon is discharged you all fly back to the UK.

You end up at the house with Simon on bed rest. Not that he listens, he’s worse than Johnny was. You stay in the house with them, sleeping in the bed with Simon so you can help him when he needs to pee in the middle of the night. 

John has been busy cleaning up the mess from the base as well as making sure Simon doesn’t get discharged. Him and Kyle usually spend their days out at a base somewhere leaving you Johnny and Simon at the house. You don’t mind, you’ll spend as much time as you can with them. 

Johnny cooks and cleans, Simon jokes he’s turning into a housewife. When you offer to help none of them will have it, doting on you almost as much as Simon. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty. I can do things for myself.” You remind them. 

“Don’t even think about it. What did you want? A sandwich?” Johnny asks and sticks his head out from round the kitchen. 

“Cheese and pickle.” You smile. Simon’s hands grip your waist pulling you back up against him.

“And a packet of quavers.” He whispers in your ear.

“And a packet of quavers.” You call. You lay back against him and he kisses your head. 

“You’re one tough cookie, you know that.” He says after a few minutes of silence. You turn to look up at him, frowning. 

“What Graves put you through. What I-” He chokes on the words. You break away from his embrace. 

“Stop. We don’t have to talk about this.” You say bringing your hand up to stroke his cheek. You sigh watching his eyes drop. 

“Simon.” You stop, you're not sure what you want to say. You pick up one of his hands. “It’s okay, I spent months in therapy, It’s part of the job. You were just doing your job.” 

He hangs his head and sighs. “It’s not fair, we shoulda waited, you deserve better.” You lean over and kiss him. Deep pressing your tongue in his mouth, you wrap one of your hands round the back of his neck. You pull away from the kiss put keep your forehead on his. 

“You don’t get to feel guilty Simon Riley. I forgive you. I love you.” You sit back on your knees looking at him, squeezing his hand, you smile. 

“I love you too.” He says. You rub his cheek again then turn to lay back in his arms. As soon as his arm has come round your chest, he plants a kiss on your head and Johnny comes in with a plate of food. Simon leans over picking up the packet of quavers. 

“Nothing else till later you’ll spoil yer tea, John’s bringing fish n' chips.” Johnny says walking out the room. You smile and reach over for your plate.

…

You must have fallen asleep in Simon’s arms because the slamming of the front door jumps you out of what was starting to feel like an overly realistic dream. The smell of fish and chip fat fills your nose as John and Kyle walk into the living room. 

“Have you two been sat their all day?” Kyle asks, kicking his shoes off. 

“Mother won’t let us leave.” You say, your voice grumbles with sleep. Simon starts to sit up and you do the same yawning and stretching your arms and legs. John has gone out into the kitchen while Kyle opens the bags of food on the coffee table. 

“Got cod, chips, peas and scraps. What do you want?” Kyle asks, John comes back with plates. Kyle serves Simon as John comes over to kiss the top of your head. You look up at him smiling.

“Busy day?” You ask as he strokes your chin with his thumb. 

“Always busy when we’re around.” John says going over to the other sofa. As Kyle piles a plate high with chips and fish for him, then passes it to him with a fork. 

“Heard back from the medical board yet?” Johnny asks as he comes into the room with a bottle of pop and glasses. 

“As a matter of fact-” John starts as he rests the plate on his lap reaching over to his bag next to the sofa. He rummages through muttering to himself until he pulls out a piece of paper. He hands it out to Simon. “Expect to see you back for duty in a month, Lieutenant.” John smiles. Johnny’s giddy snatching the paper out John's hand and reading it like he almost doesn’t believe it. 

“Fuck you got a whole 2 months off. I only got a month.” He says reaching over to hand it to Simon. “I even had one of those lung things.” He says, shaking his head, clicking his fingers at you. 

“A lung resection.” You say leaning over Simon's shoulder to look at the letter. 

“Took half me bloody lung out! I’ll never smoke again.” He says sitting down on the sofa next to John. You look at Kyle chuckling and scooting back on the floor to sit between John's legs. 

“You don’t smoke Johnny.” You say looking back over at him. John is fishing through his bag for something else. He reaches out to you. It’s folded up in an envelope. 

“Transfer papers. For you to sign. That is if you really do want to come back.” There’s silence in the room, the only noise coming from the low volume of the TV, everyone is looking at you as you reach out to take the papers. You smile nodding then sit back on the sofa opening them up. 

You hear Johnny and Kyle start up a conversation as you read over the standard legal jargon of the contract. You do want to join 141 again, you just hope nothing has changed.

…

You dream a lot about your torture, thats normal thats to be expected. When it’s a good day it’s Graves and his faceless shadows. When it’s a bad day its John and Simon, Simon never has his mask on unlike your actual torture. 

He didn’t do it, Ghost did. That's what you tell yourself when you wake in a pool of sweat panting, feeling like someone is sitting on your chest. Your legs and arms tingle. 

Yesterday was a good day, but you dreamt it was John. You look over in the bed trying to slow your breathing. Simon’s back is turned to you, you can hear him snoring softly. You turn over in bed sitting up. Your transfer papers sit on your bedside table, illuminated by the crack in the curtains. 

You get up and sneak out the room trying to be as quiet as you can so you don’t wake Simon. You step over the hall to John’s room. When you push the door open you see him and Kyle lying in bed. Suddenly you want to go back, leave them be. 

You can’t, you want to be with them. You slowly crawl on the bottom of the bed, Kyle has his back pressed up against John, as soon as he feels you start to wiggle between him he snaps awake. 

“Hey love, you okay?” Kyle asks making room so you can crawl in. 

“Yeah.” You whisper shuffling under the sheets. John turns around in the bed his arm coming over you to reach Kyle. A second later he seems to notice you in the bed, his hand comes up to brush your face.

“Something wrong, you’ve been crying love?” He says his voice deep from sleep. You didn’t even realise that. 

“I just missed you,” You say, turning to face him. His thumb brushes your cheeks, your eyes have adjusted to the light and you can see his eyes shining in the dark. 

“We’re all here.” Kyle says shifting up behind you pulling your shoulder slightly so you lay against him. You smile. 

“I know, I know you are.” You say, closing your eyes. Kyle kisses the top of your head and John moves closer to you pulling the duvet up to your neck. He kisses you, a soft peck on your lips, you feel the tickle of his beard. His arm rests on your waist, rubbing your side as he breaks away from the kiss. 

You close your eyes letting them hold you in their arms, the sound of their breathing lulls you back to sleep. 

…

You’re up early the next morning slipping out the bed before anyone else is up. You’re sat at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in your hands when John makes his way over to the coffee machine. 

“Mornin’” he says, turning it on. 

“You going to the base today?” You ask taking a sip as he takes a mug down from the cupboard.

“Yeah, still got a bunch of intel to go through on the Makarov leads.” he says, turning to look at you while the coffee machine warms up. You slide the envelope over to him. 

“Think I can help?” You ask, smiling. He comes round to you, throwing his arms around you before you have a chance to stop him. He buries his nose into your neck and you hug him back. 

“You know for a second I was worried you changed your mind.” He breaks from the hug cupping your cheeks. 

“I love you.” You say. He kisses you.

“I love you too.” You smile the biggest smile at him as you hear the coffee machine beep.  

“Mornin’ lass sleep well?” Johnny asks, his hand landing on your back. John gets up going back to the coffee machine. 

“Yeah. I did.” You smile going to take another sip of your tea. 

You sleep well that night too, squished between Johnny and Simon. There are no more bad day or good day dreams. Nightmares come sometimes but it’s always Graves and his faceless shadows, and when you do wake in a panic someone is always there. John or Simon, Kyle or Johnny. They’re always by your side.  

You stick by their side too, besides someone has to pull the bullets out of them.

Banners by firefly-graphics

[sun-kissy]

sanctuary | bucky barnes

bucky barnes x reader — ★ — wc 1.1k

summary: bucky is worried about you when you’re overworking yourself

cw: fluff, reader is a newly recruited avenger, reader is exhausted, please don’t read too much into this — definitely not self indulgent!!

“Hey.”

��Hey,” you call back shakily, not slowing. Punch after punch after punch gets thrown at the poor bag hung from the ceiling.

Bucky observes quietly as he leans against the wall of the training room. You’re dripping in sweat, though it looks like some kind of elixir in the moonlight. “It’s late. You should be in bed.”

“So should you.”

He quirks a lip upward. You’re stubborn, just like him. “I don’t have to work a 9 to 5 tomorrow.”

You cast him a glaring glance. “Working a 9 to 5 has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh yeah?” he pushes himself off the wall, crossed arms falling to his sides as he steps towards you. “So staying up late and training, waking up in the wee hours of the morning to study — none of this has anything to do with the fact that you’re working eight hours tomorrow?”

You don’t reply.

Bucky was worried about you, though he hated to admit it.

He saw you even when you didn’t think he did. You’re gone all morning for school or work, and come back to training sessions with the Avengers. Then you spend whatever time you have left studying, exercising, or whatever else it is you’re doing with the lights in your room turned on all night. Not that he was checking.

Being a new recruit on the team did mean that you had to work hard, but Bucky was sure what you were doing had to have been way past the threshold of hard work; probably on the edge of burnout.

He keeps his gaze locked on you, watching the sweat flicking off with each fist you slam against the bag. It’s robotic, almost, except for how your punches get harsher with each passing second.

“You know you’re gonna burn yourself out if you keep at this?” Bucky tries again.

“I’m fine.” There’s a sharpness to your tone. It pinches his heart in all the wrong ways.

He comes closer until he’s right in front of you, until just a centimetre off would result in the punching bag slamming him in the guts. But he knows you wouldn’t do it.

“Y/n,” he starts again, softer.

Your punches start to slow. Less and less aggressive, till you’re glaring down at your gloves and the punching bag is left bobbing with the momentum.

“I said I’m fine.”

Bucky’s heart squeezes at how defeated you sound. Dead, almost.

He steps closer yet, and he can see it. The bags under your eyes, chapped lips and droopy eyelids. You’re exhausted. “You’re not fine, doll. You’re overworking yourself.”

Your eyebrows bunch up at his words. You continue to stare downwards, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He has to resist the urge to cup your cheek and gently pull it free. Instead, he settles on resting his hand on your arm.

“I…” you mutter, tensing up for a moment before relaxing into his touch. “I’m not overworking myself. I’m doing what I have to do.”

You hardly look like you believe it yourself. Bucky sighs.

“You’re doing much more than that, doll. You’re always working. Do you ever rest?”

You frown. “But I can handle it.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Look at yourself.”

“Is that your way of telling me I’m ugly?”

Bucky snorts. “You’re far from ugly, you little minx. You know what I mean — you look dead tired, and I’m sure you feel it too.” He squeezes your elbow, not unkindly. “Do you even sleep?”

You shrug, and that’s all the response he needs.

Bucky exhales exasperatedly, moving his hand down to take your fingers in his. You make a noise of protest as he starts to drag you out the training room.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re taking me?”

He sighs when you claw your fingers into his arm, trying to gain friction and come to a stop.

“I —“ he wraps his metal arm around your waist, hoisting you up and ignoring your yelp, “— am taking you to bed; where you would’ve already been if you took proper care of yourself.”

You squawk, patting his back in a hopeless attempt to be released. “Put me down!”

“Nope.”

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“Put. Me. Down.”

“No. If you’re not going to rest, I’m going to make you.”

You groan.

His lips curve into a small smile when you finally stop protesting, your head coming down defeatedly to rest on his shoulder. He carries you up the stairs and into your room.

Bucky lays you down with all the gentility he can muster, which is surprisingly a lot. You mutter a begrudging thanks and instinctively crawl under the covers.

He immediately spots your phone on the nightstand. He takes it before you can, holding it up to your face to unlock it.

You grimace. “What are you doing?”

He squints at the tiny screen, fingers poking here and there. “Turning off all your alarms.”

“I have work tomorrow!”

“You also have off-days,” he mutters, waving you off and putting the device where you can’t reach.

You sigh for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day, rubbing your forehead frustratedly. Bucky softens.

He comes to sit on the edge of the bed, smiling at the petulant look you were giving him. Something in him stirred at the sight; you looked so childlike, so innocent. The need to protect you was strong.

“Listen,” he starts gently. “Like I said before, you need rest, okay? Just — try not to think about work, or school, or anything tonight. Relax.”

You exhale, some tension slowly leaving your features. You seem to be contemplating what to say, maybe whether to ask him if he could reschedule your shift for you, talk to your professors about your absence. Bucky was ready to say yes, yes I’ll do anything you want me to. Yes, I’ll do it because it’s you.

You look up at him nervously. “Am I gonna be okay?”

Bucky opens his mouth. He blinks and shuts it.

He rakes his fingers through his hair with a soft sigh and nods slowly. “Yeah, doll. Yeah, you’re gonna be okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You stay quiet for a moment before nodding, letting yourself sink fully into the mattress. He smiles at the sight.

“Goodnight.” Bucky stands up.

“Goodnight,” you mumble back. He watches as you tug the covers up to your chin, eyes fluttering shut.

He makes his way across the room.

“Bucky?”

He hums in response, turning back around.

“Thank you.”

He feels his heart do a little jump. He can’t stop the smile from spreading across his lips. “You’re welcome, doll. Now get some sleep, yeah?”

You nod, already starting to drift off.

Bucky closes the door as he steps outside. The lights in your room are turned off for the first time in a long, long time.

[sicksorrows]

dont get annoyed at me, sorry in advanced

would it be too crazy to say this about nanami? hes fictional anyway so it wouldn’t matter. but as much as I say this, yeah I do want him to fuck the living shit out of me until I pass out.

I want him to show me off so bad to the point he literally makes a pornhub page and posts the both of us fucking in every fucking position possible and doing every kinky thing possible. id let him rail me as my wrists are chained up on the bed frame and im gagged (or blindfolded) with his tie as he fucks me so well. I need him to cum inside me, continuously until I end up almost pregnant with just his cum and he has to shove his fingers back inside me to pull out everything. as much as I hate the thought of period sex I wouldn't mind trying it out just with nanami. I wish I could give him head while hes in a work meeting and he has to refrain himself from making too much noise while talking. I wish he could cheat on me and fuck another girl in front of me so I could just get mad at him. I wish I could peg him. I wish he would let people watch us fuck. I wish he could fuck into my mouth until I remember each vein and how long and thick it is, (hard and soft). same goes for his cum, I wish he would load a nut into my mouth until I remember the exact taste. I wish he would jerk off in front of me everyday so I can watch his rough large hands wrap around his cock so perfectly, as he strokes up and down faster and faster while staring into my eyes with his flushed face. I wish he would let me ride his nose every day and let me ride him every day, until he memorizes the rhythm and he fucks me in the same movement. I wish he could kidnap me and trap me in his place forever, id develop Stockholm syndrome if it meant staying with nanami. I wish he stalk me like a creepy man and take secret pictures of me, framing them all over his room and jerking off to them every night. I wish he could eat me out every night and drink up all of me, I want to disintegrate in his arms and make sure im left with my soul-less body with him and he has to keep it as a memory, caging up my remains and keeping it by his side until he dies, and we die together. I wish he could fuck me in semi public areas to the point we almost get caught. I wish he could slit my wrists and fuck the cuts. I wish he could love me to the point im all he needs. I wish he could fuck me in the small bathroom In an airplane and only telling me we have a few minutes before they call everyone back to their seats, I wish we could drink all night and get severely drunk to the point of almost getting alcohol poisoning but we still have time to fuck. I wish we could have sex in the ocean as he dunks my head towards the deep end letting all the sea animals see us, I wish he could watch me fuck myself. I wish he could fuck me with his weapon, I wish he could use ratio on me.

he could chain me up and blindfold me with his tie, but yet, thats still not enough. I need more. Ive never been a sex addict in my life and or never had sex before, so of course I sound like a loser virgin with no logic in sex but this man makes it seem so UGHHHHH. my biggest hc is that hes an experimentalist and he will try ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING no matter what. this part may be weird but I kinda want him to abuse me.. I dont even know where to let this out but I know as bad as it sounds I actually wouldn't be mind thrown across the room, pushed, slapped, punched, anything physical I wouldn't mind. I honestly would let him leave bruises on me and mark me as his any way he wants (ofc my statement wasn't a healthy option though) but still!!!!! fucking hell I feel the things I say aren't enough and im just repeating myself a bunch of times without actually thinking of anything new to say but I swear theres so much I wish to say but I can't seem to word it properly. anyway this obsession has gone way too insane if I see other people mention nanami and say that hes their man, my mood immediately changes, like this is MY MAN. MY MANNNNN MINE MINE MINE MINEEEE we are literally soulmates and everything!!!!! this is probably the second or third fictional man ive self shipped myself with because I genuinely love him so much and I dont think this obsession will go away in the next two or so years but telling people I know about this obsession is such a struggle mainly cause they think im a weird gooner or that I sound dumb so I only ever told my close friends who actually watch jjk and they dont get me at all :( sighs nanami is so adorable I want to squish him and hug him and throw him across the world until he comes crawling back to me cause GOD as im writing this im listening to music and everything reminds me of him, I can't handle this I wish to have a read man who can act like nanami and come to my life because im so close to manifesting nanami to come to me. I can't even handle this obsession enough I dont know why but I want him to be my everything I need every person in my life to be replaced with nanami. my doctor, dentist, teacher, friend, LITERALLY ANYTHING!!!!!!! ugh those fuckign biceps pleas ehe can choke me with them and id literally beg, BEG, for moreeee I need more, I need everything, and I need Nanami.

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.7k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter 4: The Shadow's Embrace

Isla's POV

The weight of Velaris pressed against me, invisible yet suffocating.

It wasn’t the city itself—Velaris was beautiful, a sanctuary carved out of light and dreams. It was the expectations, the constant reminder that I was living in a world far beyond my own. Powers I didn’t understand coursed through me, untamed and unpredictable. Most days, I felt like a child stumbling through the dark, reaching for something solid but finding only shadows.

And yet, it was the shadows that seemed to understand me the most.

Azriel’s shadows had become a constant presence in my life. They moved around me like silent sentinels, their dark tendrils curling in ways that felt almost… affectionate. They offered a solace I didn’t think I deserved, a quiet reminder that I wasn’t as alone as I felt.

But Azriel himself—he was another story.

I found him in the training yard one morning, his back to me as he worked through a series of precise movements with his blades. His wings flared slightly with each strike, the muscles in his back rippling under the soft light of dawn.

For a moment, I simply watched him, my heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Are you going to stand there all morning?” His voice was low, tinged with the faintest hint of amusement.

I flushed, stepping into the open. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Azriel lowered his blades, turning to face me. His expression was unreadable, as always, but his shadows stirred at the edges of his form, shifting like they were pleased to see me.

“You’re up early,” he said, his tone neutral.

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. Then, without a word, he gestured for me to join him.

Training with Azriel was… intense. He didn’t coddle me, didn’t treat me like the fragile mortal everyone else seemed to see. He pushed me, challenging me to face my fears and my limits.

But today, I wasn’t up for it.

Halfway through our session, I dropped to the ground, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. “I can’t,” I said, my voice cracking.

Azriel stood over me, his brow furrowed. “You’re stronger than this, Isla.”

“Am I?” The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. “Because I don’t feel strong. I feel lost. Like I don’t belong here. Like I’m drowning.”

For a moment, Azriel said nothing. Then, slowly, he crouched down in front of me, his shadows curling around us like a protective cocoon.

“You’re not drowning,” he said softly. “You’re learning how to swim.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, and before I could stop myself, tears filled my eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered.

Azriel didn’t respond, but his shadows moved closer, brushing against my skin like a gentle caress. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me. It was like being held, like being wrapped in a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed.

For the first time in weeks, I felt safe.

But when I opened my eyes, Azriel was gone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way his shadows had comforted me, the way they seemed to know exactly what I needed.

It wasn’t just the shadows, though. It was Azriel himself. He was distant, yes, but there was a depth to him that I couldn’t ignore. A quiet strength that drew me in, even when he tried to push me away.

I found him in the library later, sitting alone at a table with a book in his hands. His shadows were restless, shifting and curling around him like they couldn’t decide whether to settle or flee.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked, hesitating at the edge of the room.

Azriel looked up, his expression guarded. “No.”

I took a deep breath, crossing the room to sit across from him. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For earlier,” I said, meeting his gaze. “For being there when I needed someone.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” I insisted. “You didn’t have to stay, but you did. And your shadows…” I trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

Azriel’s gaze snapped back to mine, something flickering in his eyes. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not their place.”

His words stung, but I refused to back down. “Maybe it’s not their place, but they did it anyway. And I’m grateful for it.”

Azriel shook his head, standing abruptly. His shadows swirled around him, agitated. “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me,” I said, standing as well. “Help me understand.”

He turned away, his wings tensing. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you make me feel things I’m not supposed to feel!”

The words burst out of him, raw and unguarded. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his confession hanging between us.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t ask for any of it.”

“Neither did I,” I said softly.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Before I could respond, he was gone, his shadows trailing behind him like a dark tide.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In the days that followed, I found myself avoiding him, unsure of how to face the emotions his words had stirred within me. But his shadows—they didn’t seem to understand the concept of distance.

They were always there, always reaching for me in moments of quiet. They were my comfort, my solace, even when their master couldn’t be.

Slowly, I began to realize that they weren’t just shadows.

They were Azriel’s heart, laid bare in a way he couldn’t bring himself to show.

I didn’t know what it meant, this connection we shared. But I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t ready to let it go.

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @wintersquirrel @rcarbo1 @onebadassunicorn-blog

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

Info Post

Moodboards

Part I

Prev Part < - > Next Part

Contains/TW: not really a ton of tws for this one if any! just general funny banter and i SWEAR on god that millie has game 😤 anyways! glad to finally be back! probably could’ve carried this on longer but i figured you had waited long enough <3

WC: 4.3k

Part V

The Alchemy

Caitlyn probably lived in what Americans could’ve called a ‘frat house’. A large co-ed ‘almost’ mansion on Oxford campus specifically for upperclassmen. For a while now it had felt more like hers with tenants however. People moved in and out every semester, she stayed.

Whenever I woke up I was already tucked into Caitlyn’s bed, the same fancy silky sheets she had insisted on always having and getting me too. From next to the bed Ellie’s green eyes blinked, a hand extended as if in an offering. “Hey, morning, sunshine.” She said with a weak smile. I stretched a hand over to enclose around hers, squeezing as if afraid I’d lose myself the moment I let go.

“How long was I out?” I whispered in a hoarse voice.

Ellie blew out a long sigh and brought her free hand forward, gently brushing her soft fingers against a tear streaked cheek. “Long enough to hopefully make up for last night? You’re not quite to 8 hours yet but… almost.” A look of guilt filled her expression, puppy dog eyes almost as her brows furrowed together and eyes widened. Innocent eyes. Gentle eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I never should’ve let you go in there without me.”

“Els, it’s not your job to be there 24/7.” I shook my head in denial. A sharp pain seemed to shoot through my skull the moment I attempted to push myself up to a sitting position. The post breakdown headaches were always the worst. Concussion-level pain that made the room spin the moment I tried to move myself at all.

“Careful, don’t sit up too fast.” Ellie moved forward in worry, a strong arm slipping around my shoulders as she slid into the empty spot next to me. “I know it isn’t my job, persay, but… I still have this awful sense of self importance that makes me feel like if I was there it- it would’ve been easier.”

“Ego dissolution, remember?” I questioned as I attempted to twist around to face her. A little flush growing on her cheeks at the subtle call out.

“You’re right, ego dissolution.” She remarked, a soft thumb stroking my shoulder from where her arm still stayed draped around me. “We can go a different day… maybe whenever there’s classes and there isn’t too many people there. Besides, you definitely need to sign up for The Oxford Writers because they’re in charge of the student publication that comes out every semester. Plus I think they even have like slam poetry events and-”

“Els, I just lost the plot entirely just at the mere thought of entering the first day of club rush. What makes you think I can get up on a stage in front of people and read some of the most personal things I’ve ever written in my entire life!” I exclaimed probably with exactly the flourish you’d need to be a slam poet.

“But what about getting published? I mean, people need to actually read your stuff to get published.”

“Actually reading it aloud in front of a bunch of people is a totally different thing.” I added with a little shake of my head. “I’m definitely going to join it’s just- I don’t know about actually performing at these events myself.” I remarked as I slumped down in the bed, letting my body slightly flop over onto Ellie’s. Her arms slid around me like always, letting me rest my head against her slowly growing bicep. “There’s something really really wrong with me, Els.” I whispered, eyebrows furrowing together as I felt that same ache forming in my chest.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I could practically already see the shake of her head as she bent forward to place her lips against my throbbing temple as if she wanted to kiss the pain away. “You’re just… you. Beautiful, and talented, and kind, and smart, and brave…”

“I don’t think I’m very brave.” I denied, tilting my head backwards against her chest until I could see her peering down at me.

“Being scared doesn’t mean you can’t be brave.” I shifted in her arms as she spoke, whirling around to face her until I was nearly being cradled in her lap, as if I was a bride about to be swept up and carried over the alter. “You’ve been through a lot. You’re going through a lot. But you make it through every single time. And that’s brave.” My eyes softened as I looked into her green ones, gentle and grounding eyes that changed my life the moment they first saw me.

“Promise me something, Els?” I murmured just before lifting a curled together fist, pinky finger extended. “Promise me we’ll never grow apart. Even whenever love tries to complicate things like it, you know, tends to do. Just… p-promise me you’ll always be here?”

The corner of Ellie’s lips just barely twitched upwards in a mini smile before she blew out another heavy sigh of her own. “Always and forever, Mills.” She wrapped her own pinky around mine, a secondary promise to the first one we had made in the hospital. A friendship based entirely off of pinky promises and trust, it was stronger than I could’ve ever expected it to be. “Is this about your date with Vi?” She wondered after a passing moment, her arm still wrapped around me as I settled my head back against her chest.

“It’s not really a date.” I spoke in a muffled voice with my face buried into her hoodie.

“Hmmm, let’s see… Webster’s Dictionary refers to a date as ‘a social engagement between two people that often has a romantic character’-”

“I know what a date is, you fuck!” I groaned as I gave her another playful shove before promptly rolling off of her with a huff.

“Really? Because you seemed to be a little confused-“

“It’s just I’ve… never really been on a date before.” I spoke almost nervously as I hugged my knees to my chest with a small frown.

“Well, that much is definitely obvious.”

“Ellie!” I whined as I smacked an embarrassed hand against my face.

“Okay okay… relax, I’ll be serious for a sec.” She added though not being able to fight back her own little giggle. “Do I need to give you the unbiased version of ‘the talk’ not from somebody you’re related to or…”

“No, she- she promised she didn’t wanna see me just because of that.” I flushed almost painfully as I fiddled around with my fingers currently wrapped around my shins. “That- That kind of stuff still freaks me out.”

“I get it.” She was back to being soft again as she leaned back against the headboard. “Virginity itself is such an archaic term anyways, it’s so stupid. Just make sure she takes care of you or else they’ll never find her body.”

I let out a giggle at her statement even though I wasn’t entirely sure she was joking, and the look on her face read that she wasn’t. From outside the door however our conversation was quickly interrupted by the typical sound of whisper yelling bleeding through the paper thin walls. “Don’t, Vi! Don’t! She has finally been sleeping for once since she got here-”

“Did you give Ellie the same shit whenever she got here?! Or is it just because you have this fucked up personal goal to never let me near her? Is that it?!”

“If Ellie makes her feel fucking safe then she never has to get my approval to stay with her while she’s asleep!” Caitlyn seethed, and meanwhile the arguing only felt like it was going to do my head in.

With a glare forming on my face I swung my legs over the side of the bed to finally stand up. “Mills, be careful, you could still be dizzy.” Ellie was up to her feet with a start as she rushed over to my side. I hissed in pain at the pounding in my head, hands latching onto Ellie’s arms as if to better hold myself steady. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I think there’s pain medicine in your bag.” She slowly lead me forward until everything came back into focus.

“Guys, it’s okay, I’m awake.” I voiced once I swung open the door nearly causing the arguing pair to jump in response.

Caitlyn’s face visibly softened as she peered down at me, arms still folded across her chest much like they were every time her and Vi argued. Which seemed to be a regular occurrence nowadays. “Hey darling, how’re you feeling?” She asked, reaching a hand out to gently rub my arm.

“I’m okay, my head’s just… pounding.” I answered, trying to massage out one of the aches that stretched across my eyebrows. From behind me I felt Ellie pressing two pills into my free hand before holding out my water bottle. “Thanks.” I voiced before tossing them both back almost without swallowing a drop of water.

“Cait, let’s give them a second to talk, okay?” Ellie cautiously began, extending an arm out to grab Caitlyn’s arm as if she was a rapid zoo animal, just waiting for a lashing. One look seemed to communicate it all though, you won’t stop her from seeing her. She’ll find a way regardless.

“Fine, but I’m just downstairs.” I wasn’t sure if she meant it as a threat towards Vi or if she was trying to reassure me, but either way she let Ellie take her arm to lead her down the hallway. All the while Ellie glancing back over her shoulder at the two of us to shoot us a knowing wink.

“Uhhh sorry… about that.” I spoke with nearly bright red cheeks as I twisted around to face her. “Caitlyn can be kind of… ummm, intense, but I guess you know that already. Do you do the same thing with Jinx’s suitors or-?”

Vi only laughed with a little shake of her head, muscles bulging even as she just simply crossed her arms. “Oh hell no, Jinx would kill them before I even got the chance. You, on the other hand…” She added, the lightest hand reaching upwards to grasp my chin as she ever so slightly nudged it upwards. “Look like you’d let someone walk all over you if it wasn’t for Caitlyn.”

“Having an overprotective sister certainly helps.” I shrugged, the pink tint on my cheeks only growing more and more by the second.

“So,” she began with a clear of her throat, my breath catching in my own as I felt her hands unravel to cup the side of my face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Embarrassed.” I huffed, leaning right into her touch however, lifting a hand upwards to wrap around her wrist. Only in some attempt to get her to draw closer. “Sure you still wanna be seen with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She answered with a softened expression, the lightest touch brushing underneath my cheekbone as she pulled me in. Sometimes I wondered if her cologne had pheromones in it, something akin to laughing gas that had me losing all sense of control. I think I would’ve given anything to not be someone who fell so easily. I know I barely knew her, but it didn’t take much whenever you were me. I also knew, deep down, how much I wanted love. How desperately I found myself searching for it in every unlikely place. Every place that I just had a sneaking suspicion would hurt me. “C’mon baby, come back to me.”

“Hmmm?” I hummed against her chest before I could feel her nudging my chin upwards to meet her face once more. I didn’t even realize how much things seemed to disappear whenever she held me until she was nudging me back to reality.

“You got quiet there for a second, I… wanted to make sure you hadn’t dozed off.” She chose her words carefully, a slight hint making me feel like they actually implied something else.

“Sorry I uhhh, I’m okay. Just kind of spaced out there for a second I think.” I chuckled nervously with a little shake of my head. “Do you… you know, still wanna see me tonight?”

“As long as you still wanna see me. I know you’ve had kind of an eventful day.” I flushed once more as I let out an airy chuckle just before I caught myself dragging my fingers up her muscular arm. “I do know if you keep touching me like that though I’m gonna have to see you.”

“Sure you’re not just a smooth talker?” I let a little smirk tug on my lips as I softly drew my fingers along her bicep like it was the most delicate thing on the planet. And I could’ve sworn I nearly heard her breath hitch.

“Yeah no… I’m gonna need to see you. For sure.” She slotted my chin in between her thumb and forefinger, lips hovering just inches from mine as she was waiting for permission or trying to tease to the best of her ability. Either way it drove me crazy. “Pick you up at 8?”

“You better.”

~

“You may enter!” Ellie called out in a sing song voice the moment I lifted my fist to knock on her cracked door. “What’s up?” She said with a sweet smile as she swiftly paused whatever game she was in the middle of. Though with one glance I could already see her eyes going wide before she sent the controller flying across the bed as she whipped around to face me. “Woah.”

I snickered a bit to myself with a little flush before spinning to face her full body mirror currently leaning haphazardly against the wall, “Do you like it? You don’t think it’s too much?” I wondered with a tilted head, back to studying my appearance in the mirror. Maybe the navy blue sweater was a bit too similar to Caitlyn, and had I gone for jeans rather than the black skirt I currently had on it definitely would’ve been. But I at least hoped that that would’ve thrown it off enough.

“Y-Yeah, I-I mean yeah, you look… wow. Y-You look really good. Like, really good.” I heard her stammer as she rose up to her feet, gnawing on her bottom lip. “I-I mean not to say that I haven’t always thought that you were beautiful because you are but-”

“Els, breathe, it’s okay.” I laughed, lifting my hands as if to tell her to relax, and on cue I could already hear the expelling of a long breath from her lips. “Now… do you think you can help me put these on?” I wondered as I unearthed the pearl necklace from my pocket, though the action didn’t seem to calm Ellie down any.

“H-Holy shit, am I going to get hit by an ancient curse the second I hold these?” She stammered with widened eyes as I dropped the pearls into her palm.

“Of course, your bloodline is screwed for at least the next ten generations.” I joked with a little smirk as I whipped around to face the mirror once more, lifting my long mane of hair out of the way.

“Good thing the cursed Williams bloodline dies with me then.” She added as she gently wrapped the necklace around my neck and fiddled around with the clasp for at least a hot minute before finally securing it.

“Oh yeah? Going for a childless cat lady kind of look?” I hummed with a light touch to the pearls as I whirled back around to face her.

“More like a childless dog lady, not that I should ever be expected to take care of another living being.” She shrugged casually causing me to let out a little chuckle as I stepped forward to slip my arms around her.

“Well, you’re at least a pretty damn good friend.” I muttered as I let my cheek rest against her shoulder. “I do feel really bad… you know, leaving you by yourself already whenever we just moved in.”

“Don’t love, seriously, it’s okay.” Ellie whispered, lifting an arm upwards to hold my head. “Go make friends, fall in love maybe… I’ll be okay, and I’ll be right here, regardless.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t do the same.” A little frown formed on my face as we pulled away. And I hated how hesitant I felt to do anything that Ellie wasn’t involved in. I know it was unhealthy, I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. But from the moment I met her it was as if there was some invisible string tied between the two of us.

“I will… I’m sure I will, just don’t worry about me, okay? Honestly, I mean I spent the first 16 years of my life alone. One night isn’t gonna kill me.” She brushed off with a weak smile before the sound of a knock on the door interrupted us both.

“Oh god… I didn’t realize it was almost 8. A-Are you sure I look okay?” I stammered, not even noticing the anxious pit that had grown in my stomach until I finally stole a glance at the clock.

“You look beautiful, now c’mon don’t leave her standing out there.” Ellie urged with a laugh as she gave me another gentle push towards the front door.

My eyes widened in surprise once I saw both of the brightly colored heads of the siblings however once I threw the door open. “Oh, Jinx! Hey-”

“Hey lesbians!” She interrupted with a grin just before sweeping inside without a second thought.

“Sorry, she insisted on keeping Ellie company while we were out and apparently she lives in the same complex so-” Vi began with an embarrassed tint to her cheeks.

“This unit’s so much nicer than mine though. Damn Ellie, are you also a nepo baby or something? Oh well, I guess being bffs with a Kiramman helps.”

“Oh my god, do you ever stop yapping?” Vi groaned to herself causing me to let out a tiny chuckle.

“No, it’s okay… open door policy here.” Ellie said with a nervous little smile of her own, cheeks reddened as if slightly amused herself.

“Yeah, stay as long as you want.” I repeated before finally letting my eyes sweep briefly up towards Vi. Still in that same leather jacket with a maroon button up underneath this time, undone just enough to drive me nuts and have to work twice as hard to keep myself from ogling. “So… ummm, a-are you ready?”

“Whenever you are.” She said with a little jingling of her keys before offering a hand for me to take.

“Vi, take care of her or else I’ll kill you, got it?” I heard Ellie’s protective voice over the anxious roaring in my ears.

“Yeah! And I’ll help!” Jinx exclaimed defiantly as she popped out from behind her.

“Alright, down tigers…” Vi snickered before I felt the weight of her muscular arm encircling around my shoulders, my heart stuttering to a skip in my chest as she did so. “I’ve got her.”

“I’ll see you later, Els?” I spoke just before lifting a little hand to give the two a wave.

“See you, Mills, have fun.” She remarked with another soft and subtle smile before letting the door slowly drift shut.

“Wow, you’re an American foreign exchange student with a car, I’m actually impressed.” I couldn’t help but flush even harder once we made it outside. An endless burn to my cheeks as we approached the large truck currently parked quite illegally on the curb.

“Really? I guess that’s a good thing, Kiramman’s seem quite difficult to impress.” She teased lightly as she trailed behind me towards the passenger side door.

“We can be, I’m not saying you don’t have your work cut out for you.”

“Well, challenge accepted.” The corners of her lips upturned in a smirk that made my insides twist, the raised entrance to the passenger seat not at all helping as she pulled the door open. “May I?” She questioned with an extended hand.

“You may.” I said with a small smile of my own as I slipped my hand into hers. She held my balance well as she hoisted me up into the vehicle, a gentle hand sliding around my back as if to keep me steady.

“To be fair, trucks are kind of hard to come by in england… Oxford specifically. You think it would be more because of the whole… you know, people moving into uni thing but-” my cheeks heated all over again as I watched her curious eyes scanning over me once she was situated behind the wheel. “S-Sorry I’m yapping. I- I yap a lot whenever I get nervous.”

Vi let her head tilt slightly, that same little smirk remaining on her lips. And I swear it was going to drive me crazy one day, if it hadn’t already. “Do I make you nervous?” She stated before firing the truck up into gear with a lifted brow.

I hesitated a moment, weighing the question around in my head before I propped my elbow up on the center console and shook my head, resting my cheek against my hand as I gazed up at her. “No, you don’t. And I’ve been trying to figure out why since yesterday.” Her eyes glanced over towards me, watching them stay locked on mine for a moment long enough to make my own widen. “Wh-What?” I muttered, now suddenly feeling as if nervous was the right word as she shook her head.

“Nothing, you’re just… wow.” She finally said, a smile tugging back on her lips before reaching forward to fire up the engine. “I mean I thought you were ‘wow’ before but now that you’re actually in my passenger seat it’s like, a different story, you know?”

“What? You didn’t think I’d go for you?” I wondered with my cheeks flaring as I glanced down towards where her arm was now propped up against the center console. A bruised hand almost beckoning me to slip my fingers through it.

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen you? Have you seen me-?”

“Oh right. Bad boy in a leather jacket covered in tattoos who also happens to be an icon on the hockey rink. What innocent little doe-eyed femme would actually wanna go for you?” I sarcastically drawled on causing her to snicker with a brief roll of her eyes.

“You know, you do have a bit of a bite to you, you know that?”

“Well, Caitlyn Kiramman is my sister… and she taught me well.” I remarked almost proudly as I twisted a long strand of my hair around my finger.

“I bet Ellie cried the first time you used that sarcasm on her.”

“She did ask me if I was mad at her, but in both of our defenses we usually think people are mad at us if their vibe even slightly shifts.” I explained with a clear of my throat, finally giving in and letting my hand slide across the console to Vi’s. My fingers cautiously slipped through hers, so much smaller it was almost comical. She didn’t seem to mind though, another little smile forming on her lips as I slowly tugged her hand over towards my lap. “Just so you know though she isn’t this innocent little deer either, like, she could kill you… she could fuck you up if she really wanted to.”

“Oh trust me, I know, I mean have you seen her on the rink whenever she isn’t terrified of Anderson? Like she’s good. She’s really good. Contrary to popular belief I am going to try and not get on her bad side.” Vi added, and I don’t know why but the way she did speak so highly about her was refreshing. There wasn’t any jealousy between the two, at least for now, and I really hope it stayed that way. “Speaking of which, we’re here. I know we could’ve probably walked but what can I say? I wanted to show off the truck.”

“The ice rink? Geez, do you ever leave?” I questioned with another chuckle as I peered upwards to see the same stone building. “I thought they locked this place up at night.”

“They do, for outsiders.” She grinned as she brandished a key clipped to a silver carabiner before shutting off the engine and climbing from her seat.

“We’re- We’re not gonna get in trouble, are we?” I asked the moment she swung open my door with my eyes going wide. And suddenly the goody-two-shoes had possessed me once again.

“Baby, I’ve got a key. What could we get in trouble for?” She laughed before extending a hand to help me slide from the large vehicle. My heart nearly skipping a beat in the process. “I mean, your parents probably paid for this building anyways.”

“Well, not this one specifically, you’re thinking of the Anderson family.” I added, the feeling of her hand sliding back into mine nearly catching me off guard. “So ummm, what are we doing exactly?”

“You ever been skating before?” She wondered before gently tugging me towards the entrance, the question causing me to halt right in my tracks.

“Oh… Vi- th-this is a really sweet idea but I’m absolutely ass at skating. I went once with Ellie and cracked the shit out of my ankle- a-and I don’t even have skates!”

“Relax, I can get you rentals.” Her warm arm draped itself back over my nearly quivering shoulders. I don’t know why but it was almost calming, letting her drag me towards the entrance while I anxiously caught my bottom lip in between my lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you and your very sensitive ankles safe.”

“My ankles are not sensitive.” I huffed, expression shifting into a scowl as I tried to give her a playful shove, but she didn’t buck nearly as easy as Ellie did.

Vi only let out an airy chuckle before whipping out the carabiner attached to her belt loop once more and slipping the key to the rink into the lock, “Sure thing, princess, I’ll take your word for it.”

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @sawaagyapong @autisticgirlkisser @macamilarofe @nombreuxx @snowbunnyboo @lils-1979 @myrruwrites @baylegend6 @withyou-withoutthem @lil7-I @cloudy-fay @liliwritin @primarina-diamandis @soodle-noup @livil589 @riches-expresso @deepobservationcherryblossom @pixieolives-blog @roseannih @fernanda-2022

i’m new to tag lists so please let me know if i missed you! a couple of your tags wouldn’t work either! you can join my taglist here!

[rhiannonsknife]

something something adult shauna taking care of reader with the flu… yes i am projecting.

maybe she comes over for a spontaneous hookup while jeff is staying late at work, then finds reader shuddering and curled up on the couch. and she can’t help herself and immediately jumps into action to take care of us. making warm tea, getting us settled under a cozy blanket, wiping away tears when the emotions get too much.

i am just very very sick right now and feeling sorry for myself. i need her to come here and make me feel better. :(

- 🦔

nooo i hope you feel better soon 🦔 anon!! <3

the plan to meet up had been made earlier: jeff’s staying late, and she wanted to spend her night with you. yet when shauna shows up at your door, she can immediately tell something is going on.

instead of pulling her inside like you normally would, you’re barely holding yourself up against the doorframe, your face pale, hair a mess, and your oversized hoodie doing nothing to hide the shivers racking through your body.

“you’re sick,” shauna states, her gentle smile instantly replaced with a furrowed brow. she steps inside without waiting for an invitation, her hand on your forehead before you can even protest. “jesus, you’re burning up!”

“i’m fine,” you croak weakly, even though you’re clearly not. you’ve been curled up on the couch all day, too weak to do much of anything, and the sight of her -so put together- in your hallway just makes the tears sting a little harder in your already watery eyes.

“yeah, no. not happening.” shauna’s voice is firm but surprisingly gentle as she shrugs off her jacket and tosses it over a chair. “where’s your tea? medicine? anything?” she doesn’t wait for you to answer. instead, she heads to the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets.

not long and she’s back, handing you a steaming mug of tea, her hands brushing yours as she helps you steady it. “drink,” shauna commands softly.

as you drink, she sits beside you on the couch.

“you don’t have to do all this,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you finally let yourself lean into her.

“shh,” she hushes, wrapping a blanket around you. “you’re sick. let me take care of you,”

shauna doesn’t stop moving as she speaks. once you’re settled on the couch, she’s back on her feet, fluffing the pillows behind you. she’s in full caretaker mode now, one you didn’t think she was capable of. she isn’t exactly known for her warmth. and still, she’s here, taking care of you in a way no one else has in a long time.

“i’m not leaving you like this,” she mutters, more to herself than to you, as she disappears into the kitchen again. you hear the clink of dishes, the rush of water running, and before you know it, she’s back with a damp washcloth, crouching in front of you.

“here,” she murmurs, gently pressing the cloth to your forehead. her touch is cool, careful, and you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut at the relief it brings. “better?”

you nod weakly, and she gives you a small, almost-smile. her eyes linger on your face as she shifts, brushing stray strands of hair away from your damp forehead. the gesture is so tender, so unlike the shauna you’re used to, that it sends a fresh wave of tears spilling over.

“hey, hey,” she says softly, abandoning the washcloth to cup your face in her hands. “what’s this for, huh? you don’t have to cry!”

“i just-“ your voice cracks, and you shake your head. “i hate feeling like this. and you’re being so…nice!”

shauna huffs a quiet laugh. “you’re allowed to feel like shit, you know?” her thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away the tears. “just rest,” she says, her voice low, soothing. “i’ll be here!”

[theunbreakablecurse0]

Small fic Teachers Gego AU (hurt/comfort, arguments)

It was a quiet night. No distant car sounds outside, no birds or other things that usually can be heard during this time.

Suguru was sitting in the living room and staring blankly at the front door. Fiddling with the wedding ring on his finger, he blinked and switched his attention from the door to the clock on the wall.

3:31

*****

It was a promise they made along their hard way while being jujutsu sorcerers: no coming back home after midnight. This specific rule was mainly made for Satoru, who always worked overtime while Suguru was away during their toughest year apart. Defection and all the stuff that came with it.

Overworking was not something Suguru and Shoko thought was compatible with Six eyes and Infinity, so just like that, after Satoru's fifth attempt to come back home in the morning, the rule was established.

And to be honest, it had been working quite well for almost seven years of their marriage until some shit began to happen. Again and again. It started with:

             My love 🧿🧿

[sorry i don't think i will be home for dinner today :( ]

[Did smth happen? Need my help?]

[no  it's ok baby, stay at home~]

And ended with:

My love 🧿🧿

[go to bed without me, gonna be done with some paperwork in 40 min or so]

[But there was no paperwork when i left??]

[old fuckers forgot again]

After the fourth time in one week, the confrontation finally happened.

"Toru? Is there something I need to know about? You're coming back much later than usual these days," Suguru asked while stirring green tea.

Satoru raised his head.

"Nothing specific~" he sing-songed with a thin smile.

Suguru frowned.

"Sorry… I'll try coming back home earlier. I promise, it's nothing bad", Satoru whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

“Alright.”

*****

3:57

Suguru heard a sound of a key unlocking the door. It finally opened, revealing a very tired Geto Satoru, who gently closed it from the inside, taking his blindfold off.

"You okay?" Suguru flatly asked, staring at his husband.

Satoru flinched, his eyes widened in awe as he quickly turned to Suguru.

"Shit, you scared me. I-I am!"

"Very well. Care to elaborate?"

"You mean?"

"The damn missions you've been taking and all the fucking lies about paperwork and meetings?"

"Suguru it's..."

"I'm listening. To the truth, preferably,” Suguru stood up, crossing his arms.

"I just... Three first grade sorcerers in Kyoto have resigned. So I agreed to take on their scheduled missions for a few weeks before higher ups will find a replacement for-"

"You're not being serious,” Suguru whispered.

Satoru stood there silently and just sheepishly rubbed his knuckles with a thumb.

"You're working yourself to the ground.”

"I promise you that I'm not!"

"You broke two dishes yesterday and almost poured the tea in a glass instead of your mug. And now, you didn't notice me when I was sitting right here and looking at the door.”

"I..."

"There are thousands of sorcerers in Kyoto that could have taken the job, but instead, higher ups decided to make their lives easier and USE YOU to clean up the mess. You agreed to this shit without telling me, then lied, and all this in process of slowly destroying yourself with the lack of sleep and everything else for fucking weeks. And don't tell me about your RCT, because we know it depends on your brain which can obviously get tired. So don't fucking say anything about people."

"Don't be so dramatic; I can take care of myself."

"I can see that."

"Suguru, please, can we stop doing this now."

"Why did you lie? You could have a least shared it with me."

"Because I knew you would be angry and worried for nothing."

"So you think your health and safety are nothing."

Satoru rolled his eyes.

"Suguru, you act like I'm some damsel in distress, really. I'm a grown man, a special grade jujutsu sorcerer after all."

"And does that make you not human?"

"A little bit?"

"If something happens-"

"NOTHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN!" Satoru interrupted him, clearly annoyed.

"So now you're also immortal and can see the future."

"I DON'T NEED ANYONE TO SAVE ME FROM FIRST AND SECOND GRADE CURSES; I'M NOT FRAGILE, SUGURU!"

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL THAT IT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

"THEN WHAT IS IT?!"

"I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU EXHAUSTED AND ALONE, DOING NOT YOUR JOB, WHILE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LET YOUR BODY REST! AND YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU PUSH YOURSELF TO THE LIMIT!"

“IT IS MY JOB!”

“IT’S NOT!”

“YOU LEFT ME FOR A YEAR! I WORKED LIKE THIS AND NOTHING HAPPENED. DIDN’T SEEM LIKE YOU CARED BACK THEN!”

A low blow. A very low blow.

Suguru felt like a bucket of cold water was poured onto his shoulders, and it looked like it showed on his face, because after a couple of seconds, Satoru quietly called his name and reached out with his hand. 

Suguru took a step back, almost hitting the wall.

“Dad, Papa? Is everything fine?” Tsumiki asked, looking from an opened door to her bedroom.

“Sorry, did we wake you up? We’re alright,” Suguru found some words, coming up to his daughter.

“No, I woke up ‘cause I was thirsty.”

“I’ll bring you some water, okay?” Suguru whispered. The girl nodded, and as the man turned away and made his way to the kitchen, she worriedly looked at Satoru.

“Papa? Are you sure you are okay? You don’t look well…”

“I- yes, I am.”

Suguru returned and carefully put the glass in Tsumiki’s hand.

“Go to bed, okay?” He ruffled her hair, and she muttered a sleepy “thank you” before going back to her room.

Just as Tsumiki left, Satoru came up to Suguru, gently holding his cold hand.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean it,” his voice was shaking a little.

“I see,” Suguru gently brushed Satoru’s hand off and went to put on his shoes. He needed to get out of here for a while.

“Wait! Where are you going?” 

Suguru didn’t answer the question.

“You should change your clothes. And there is your portion of food from dinner on the table. Eat at least something and go to bed. I need some time alone.”

He threw on his black hoodie, snatched his emergency cigarette pack with a lighter and left, shutting the door. Satoru hid his face in his palms.

*****

It took Suguru almost an hour and three cigarettes to calm down a little bit. He rarely smoked. Especially after the children appeared. 

But today Suguru felt like he really needed it. A smoke break.

He couldn’t help but wonder if it was something he did. Something that made Satoru feel like he could not trust him anymore.

*****

When he got back home, it was already five in the morning. There was no food on the table. Only a small stack of washed dishes next to the sink.

"Thank God" Suguru thought.

He walked down the corridor and stood in front of their bedroom door, carefully opening it after some time.

Satoru was lying on the opposite edge of the bed under the blanket with his back to the entrance, looking unusually small for his height. Suguru closed the door, and the room fell into complete darkness.

He joined Satoru under the covers and turned to his husband. Suguru knew he was not asleep. The back was too strained, and it seemed like Satoru tried to hold his breath or just breathe more quietly for some reason. There was only one explanation for that.

He couldn't do this anymore. This particular week was a killer on its own.

Suguru stretched his arm and easily moved another man to his chest. After a few seconds, a sob broke the silence of the bedroom. Satoru's shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Satoru sobbed out.

"I'm very sorry too," Suguru whispered, feeling that his eyes began to burn. He gently flipped Satoru, and now they were face to face in the darkness.

"You must know I didn't mean it!" Satoru exclaimed, and Suguru just held him tighter.

"B-because I know the reason why you l-left and everything else. It was just such a shitty month, and I'm so-"

"Shhh... I believe you. It's okay. I'm here."

"It is NOT okay!"

"Satoru, it's alright. Please, we've said a lot of shit to each other before. It doesn't mean it is true."

Satoru's breathing became a bit easier.

"After our talk two days ago I- I decided to quit taking extra missions. But this time there were kids. The curse was stealing them for a few weeks, and these motherfuckers couldn't even find them straight away because higher ups can't do their fucking job. I didn't want you to be there. Not after Mimiko and Nanako. So I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I lied about all this stuff."

And just like that, the truth was out. There was a silence for a few minutes.

"But do you think it makes me feel easier that you experienced all this alone?" Suguru asked tenderly.

After a moment, Satoru whispered a "no".

"I thought we were stronger together, mm? Mentally AND physically."

"We are," Satoru mumbled.

"I understand where your worries came from, but please don't do stuff like that again. I can do anything when I'm with you. I was so fucking worried. I just... you know I'm not trying to order you around, but..."

"I understand."

Satoru hid his face on Suguru's neck and sniffed.

"Are you sure you're okay? Nothing hurts?"

"Head. A lil bit."

"Did you take your pills? The ones Shoko gave you?"

"I did."

"Good," Suguru praised, while petting his hair.

"The food was very delicious; thank you."

"You are welcome, my love."

Satoru blushed.

"Wait, Toru, is that my sweatshirt you are wearing?"

"Maybe..."

Suguru finally felt relieved after all these days.

"We should take a day off today."

"Mmm? Yeah. Definitely."

"I'll deal with it. Go to sleep. I'll grab you some tissues, and I have to find my phone."

"Nooo~ I don't want you to go anywhere."

"Just for a second, come on."

"Nope."

P.S. I laid this on the table. You deal with it lol. Fuck typos if there any (as usual)

P.P.S. Was inspired by Satoru Gojo's shitty schedule! Not even sure what is this

[amiaclone]

HEYYY, Can i please request a Front man (001) X male reader? like they basically fell for each other in the games? you can choose whatever happens next or if their headcannons!

Tw: Cursing

Front man x Male! Reader

Being friends with Gi hun can be fun! It has flaws though

Like being involved with his plan to end “these games” and now us both are trapped in said game again and could die

You were terrified and half the people disinterested you or terrified you either way you stuck with Gi Hun

However you did meet someone that interested you

In ho what a dick you didn’t trust him at all

Listen you never participated in the games but maybe it’s the way he was always staring at you with that cocky smirk

It twisted your stomach in a way the way he’d eye your body language up and down….

It seemed like every word he spoke was a test it was unnatural and creepy

Why did your face flush every time he looked at you though?

It really is a strange world

Anyways here you are a night before Gi hun goes with his plan honestly you really didn’t wanna do it

Sacrifice other players? Shoot a million of guards? It was illogical unfortunately nobody seemed to agree with you though…..

You couldn’t help but feel In ho seemed *too* into the idea

You were supposed to go alone with him

You were never alone with him no matter how strong these feelings were you mainly tried to avoid him

“So that’s the plan how does it sound everyone?”

Gi huns voice woke you up from your mid to paying attention daydream

You blinked twice waiting for the others to reply pretending as if you were in game

With a few acknowledgements of agreements except for you In ho quirked an eyebrow

“Alright y/n?”

You stared at him with an almost panicked look staring at him why were you so tense around him?? Fu-

With an awkward cough you nodded your head anyway “Sure this plan will probably fail but all we can do is try…” you mumbled sarcastically

Not much later lights out was cue in a few minutes

You decided getting a early night rest was the best but while you relaxed you stared at the left side where some beds were there was In ho

Staring at you

You stared back what was his problem what was your problem why was your face feeling red-

“Lights out!”

And just like that it was pitch black

You turned your head pretending to be in some deep slumber

For five minutes…

Ten minutes…..

Nearly an hour

Dammit! Why can’t you sleep?!

Maybe you needed to go to the bathroom? But it’s lights out they probably won’t let you…..

…

Well you can atleast try right?

Here you were walking steadily to the bathroom it was pitch black your only source of light the piggybank filled with the money from the loss of peoples lives…

You really hope Gi Huns plan works

You walked towards the bathroom as quietly as you can unaware of the eyes following you

“Uh excuse me?”

You knocked on the door outside to the bathroom seeing a triangle guard guarding it

“Uh can I…..use the restroom?”

“It’s unacceptable to use it at night”

You sighed obviously you knew that

Before you could even say anything else a voice interrupted you

“There with me I need to use it too they have some problems…”

You blinked seeing In ho standing in front of you the guard barely seemed to buy it

“Ten minutes”

You walked in with In ho following behind

“Uh thanks”

There was the awkward tension again

He only smiled “It was nothing I needed to use it myself I’m shocked they actually agreed..”

You nodded “The funny thing is i don’t think i needed to go to the bathroom i just needed space to clear my head”

He nodded understanding “Well if you wanna talk I don’t mind as according to the triangle we have ten minutes…why is something bothering you?”

You sighed “I don’t know this game is a bothersome already but….do you think Gi Huns plan will really work?”

He seemed to ponder in thought for a bit

“Well there’s many ways it couldn’t but I believe Gi huns a stubborn man so I believe it’s possible…why do you think we’ll fail?”

You sighed “I don’t wanna sound pessimistic but the plan is really illogical plus I don’t wanna sacrifice other lives to save other lives…that’s the whole reason we came here in the first place to save everyone”

In ho seemed to be taking everything in he seemed almost out of it for a bit “Well what do you think we should do?”

You sighed “That’s why I didn’t say anything I don’t know what to do the games are rigged like this so only one or two people at best can win…..I hate to be pessimistic but we’re all gonna die in here.”

In ho stared at you in silence for a second a small smirk took place

“You’re really fucking strange you know that? You make me…..feel all these things”

“What?” You could only muster in confusion

There was the tension In ho stepped closer and in not even seconds In ho placed his lips roughly across yours you kissed back

He backed away sighing the tension finally felt good…..why?

He smirked “Well let’s see you tomorrow”

[aishangotome]

Nokto Klein: Chapter 2 Premium Story (The Fox King's Lewd Way of Comforting)

Chapter 2

Nokto: How long are you planning to stay dressed like that?

I was sitting in the chair by the window, facing Nokto, but before I knew it, I was lost in thought...

Nokto waved a hand in front of my face, and I came to my senses with a start.

Emma: Oh, right, I need to change...

I've been sitting in the chair ever since the welcome party ended, and the tea that was steaming is now completely cold.

Emma: Sorry, I was just lost in thought.

Nokto: It's fine. I like looking at you in your dress.

Neither of us has changed clothes, nor have we even taken a bath yet.

(Nokto might have been waiting for me to finish thinking... I feel even more sorry now.)

To quickly prepare for a bath, I take off the earrings and choker I was wearing and put them in the jewelry box on the table.

Nokto gave me this box as a present before we went to Benitoite.

(It's the perfect size for carrying around, so he must have prepared it for this inspection trip.)

Thinking about Nokto's feelings when he gave it to me warms my heart.

Nokto: You were frowning so much, mind if I ask what you were thinking about?

Emma: Um, it's nothing important. I was just nervous thinking about tomorrow's anniversary party.

Nokto: Oh, that's what it was.

Nokto: I thought you were frowning because of the welcome party earlier, but I guess I was wrong.

Emma: Ugh... There was no point in trying to hide it.

Nokto: Did you really think you could fool me?

Emma: I thought you might let me.

Nokto: I thought about it, but I changed my mind when I saw your face.

(That means I was that dissatisfied with today's party, huh?)

Nokto gently strokes my furrowed brow with his long fingers, as if to ease the tension.

*flashback*

Silvio: But, be a little prepared.

Nokto: Hmm?

Silvio: You're not popular in my country, King Nokto.

*flashback over*

(No matter how much time passes, I can't escape from that.)

(-- I felt like I was faced with reality.)

*Flashback to the Party*

(Ah...)

Looking around, I realized the answer to the indescribable discomfort I felt during the welcome party.

The Benitoite nobles were either glancing at Nokto or whispering something to each other.

If that was all, I could have thought that they were just paying attention to Nokto because this was his first time visiting Benitoite Castle as king.

But their eyes, filled with a mixture of anxiety and wariness, told me that wasn't the case--

(Why does Nokto have to be subjected to such looks?)

The lack of an answer made my chest tighten with unease, and I fell into deep thought.

Suddenly, Nokto put his arm around my waist and brought his lips close to my ear.

Nokto: One moment you're looking around restlessly, and the next you're looking down with a hundred different expressions? What's wrong?

Emma: No, I'm sorry. It's nothing.

(I can't worry him. I have to pull myself together.)

As I shook my head, a nobleman called out to me.

Benitoite Noble: Your Majesty Nokto, Lady Emma, how are you enjoying your night in Benitoite?

(I think he was a patron of the painter...)

I pull up the information on the participants that I had crammed into my head before attending the party.

Nokto kept his arm around my waist, a diplomatic smile plastered on his lips.

Nokto: Thank you. Thanks to you, we are having a wonderful time.

Benitoite Noble: I'm glad to hear that... But the atmosphere tonight seems somewhat unsettled.

His words seemed to contain a thorn, and my heart pounded unpleasantly.

The nobleman continued, lowering his voice as if to share a secret.

Benitoite Noble: Everyone is worried about "that."

Benitoite Noble: Is the legend of the Rhodolite court actually true?

"Twins bring both good and bad fortune"---

The moment I heard the words "court legend," my heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an eagle.

(I can't believe he would ask Nokto such a thing...)

I've seen nobles bring up the legend even before I started dating Nokto, but now that Nokto is king, this is the first time I've seen someone try to ask him about it directly.

Nokto: Even you, a resident of Benitoite, know about the legend of our royal court?

Benitoite Noble: Yes. Among some of the nobles of Benitoite, there are those who harbor concerns.

Benitoite Noble: If the legend passed down in the Rhodolite court is true, and the "calamity" is you, King Nokto...

Benitoite Noble: If we continue to be allied with Rhodolite, will disaster befall Benitoite as well...?

(So this is what Silvio meant by "unpopular.")

(Certainly, there will always be people who think this way. But...)

Anger wells up inside me, and I naturally clench my fists.

Nokto, whose demeanor doesn't change in the slightest, interlaces his fingers with mine as if to loosen my grip, and maintains his beautiful smile.

Nokto: Well, which is it?

Nokto: By the way, what kind of calamity do you imagine the twins will bring?

Benitoite Noble: Well...

Nokto: Yes, for example, a prolonged drought could lead to a poor harvest, causing hardship for the people and impoverishing the country itself—no,

Nokto: In Benitoite's case, it would be more realistic for continuous storms to rage, making the seas rough and difficult to sail, disrupting trade and weakening the national power—

Nokto: Would that be more fitting?

Perhaps not expecting such a response, the nobleman's face paled as he took Nokto's words seriously.

The same went for the other nobles who were with him, and as the atmosphere grew heavier and heavier—

Nokto gave a mischievous smile and said jokingly,

Nokto: If such events were to occur, the legend would spread as truth, wouldn't it?

Nokto: However, a legend is just a legend, after all. Our country has not fallen into such a state, and I'm just joking.

The nobles, while giving somewhat strained smiles, showed a hint of relief.

I also desperately tried to smile to match the atmosphere...

But I was filled with the urge to glare at the noble who had just asked Nokto about the legend.

*Back to present*

Nokto: You have a deep wrinkle between your eyebrows again. Aren't you going to get stuck like that soon?

Emma: ...I was just remembering what happened earlier.

Contrary to my brooding, Nokto seems somewhat pleased.

Emma: Doesn't it bother you, Nokto?

(I wonder if he's not hurt by being told such things... Thinking about Nokto's past, I'm worried.)

Nokto: Not at all.

Nokto shakes his head and gently strokes my cheek.

Nokto: Because you're brooding and getting angry on my behalf.

Nokto: If I say it can't be helped, it sounds like I'm giving up, but worrisome people will be anxious about the legend.

Nokto: It's always been that way.

Nokto: I expected that once I became king, even people who hadn't thought anything of it before would have concerns and doubts for that reason.

Nokto: But those voices arising just means that I'm not yet recognized as king.

Nokto: Even if it takes time, I'll steadily gain their trust. I don't want to make you uneasy.

Emma: Nokto...

(Since becoming king, Nokto has been attending to his official duties for the sake of the people even more than when I met him.)

(...Sometimes to the point where I worry.)

(That's why I'm so bothered by the looks and words directed at him at the party.)

Because of the legend of the royal court, the love from his mother became a blood-soaked, crimson lie, and Nokto could no longer believe in love.

Even so, he's trying to believe again, facing his past and loving me, and it makes my heart ache unbearably.

Emma: There may not be much I can do, but I want to do my best to improve the impression people have of Nokto.

Before I knew it, my heart was filled with more motivation than before our visit to Benitoite.

Nokto: Well then, let me see that motivation.

Emma: Yes...! Wait, Nokto!?

Suddenly, Nokto, with a mischievous smile on his face, swept me up into his arms—

-

Emma: Ah, whoa...!

(He said he wanted to see my motivation, so why am I in this situation...?)

(That's not what I meant by motivation!?)

Nokto places me on his lap while in the bathtub, and he begins to touch my breasts while teasing me by sliding his tongue over my neck.

No matter how much I writhed in the sweet sensation, all that resulted was the sound of splashing water, and Nokto didn't seem like he would let me escape.

Nokto: Rather than improving my impression, I want to love and be loved by you so much that you can't even think about such things.

Nokto whispered, his lips trailing up my neck to tickle my earlobe.

Emma: Hmm, but...

Nokto: If they see us overflowing with happiness,

Nokto: Surely those around us will stop paying attention to the legend of the royal court, thinking it's a lie, right?

(Since Nokto has suffered because of the legend of the royal court,)

(Even if those are his true feelings, it must hurt him.)

(He's probably saying this partly because he doesn't want to worry me any further...)

Thinking about Nokto's feelings, my chest tightens with sadness.

While truly hoping that Nokto's words will one day come true, I was effortlessly brought to the peak by fingers that knew all my weaknesses.

As I lose my strength, he softly kisses the spot between my eyebrows where I had been frowning and brushes my wet hair behind my ear.

Nokto: The long journey to Benitoite and tonight's party...

Nokto: Even you must be tired both physically and mentally, right?

Emma: You must be too, Nokto, right?

Nokto: Not really. I'm tireless because you were by my side the whole time.

Nokto: ...Though it was a miscalculation that our plans went a little awry.

Emma: Huh? -- Mmh, Nokto...

His murmured words were snatched away by the renewed pleasure he gave me.

As he plays with me with his long fingers and presses a hot, wet kiss to my lips, completely different from the one he gave my forehead, a sweet numbness spreads through my head.

The intense exchange that steals even my breath is enough to reawaken the heat in my recently satisfied body, and a throbbing ache, centered in my lower abdomen, spreads through me.

Nokto pulls away, and with a seductive smile, licks the glistening strand that connects our lips.

Nokto: I'll heal your fatigue.

Emma: I'm happy, but won't you get tired this time, Nokto?

Nokto: Being by your side makes me tireless, so there's no way I'll get tired from interacting with you.

Nokto: Besides, this place has been looking eager again, hasn't it?

In the bathwater, Nokto repeatedly stroked between my legs as if savoring the sensation.

He would graze my sensitive spots but never touch them firmly, and the frustration built up.

Emma: Ah, nn, why...?

Nokto: Hmm? What is it?

Aware that my hips were starting to sway, I could feel the heat rising to my ears as Nokto deliberately didn't proceed any further until I verbalized my desire.

Emma: …I want you to touch me properly.

Nokto: Well said.

Nokto: As you wish, I'll touch you properly and make you feel good.

Nokto had me sit on the edge of the bathtub, and then he buried his face between my wide-open legs.

With his pointed tongue stimulating my sensitive bud and his fingers stirring me up inside, I was quickly nearing my limit.

Emma: Nn, ah...!

Nokto: You're so soft and wet here. It's cute how eager you are.

Nokto, who had risen, wiped away the tears welling up in my eyes with his lips, but even then, he never stopped the fingers writhing inside me—

After shivering repeatedly and nearly losing consciousness, he finally penetrated me.

As I wrapped my arms around Nokto's neck, I had a feeling that I would be ravished endlessly again tonight.

.

.

.

Chapter 3

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

[weezerlvr228]

hi fam !!

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[vanweezer]

very very personal, just insight into where im at w my family and things that bother me/have encouraged me to move out

"i know youre moving out so im just gonna say no ones kicking you out and if you feel like this is something you have to do then ok"

thanks! i know im not being kicked out! but yknow i kinda yet a weird vibe when your out of touch husband takes me to a cemetery to yell at me, tell me im just like my father/dont give my father "the time of day", and that im "mean to people who care about me" in front of his dead mother's grave in a poor attempt at guilting me out of speaking my mind. but no yeah thanks for stating the fucking obvious that im leaving on my own terms

[rosicheeks]

-

[seventh-district]

screaming shaking crying trembling wailing sobbing throwing up punching the wall in anguish and agony and angst etc etc etc