#You may go out and sleep with others too. That wouldn't scare me away. It would probably be pretty hot“

[mrfoox]

Wufjxjjsjdjd ok

[reidmania]

STILL | spencer reid

summary ; loosing based off still by niall horan. You and spencer broke up and when you see him at a bar a month later everything comes back.

warnings; this is long pure angst with a (?) happy (?) hopeful ending. imma say female reader because there so many little things that indicate that. hella miscommunication, arguing, drinking, jealous spencer, i think its a happy ending idk tbh, let me know if i missed anything

a/n ; this is 4k words. i did not intend that at all, i honestly got so insanely carried away. im so sorry.

You regretted everything, in this moment more than any other. You didn't know how you were possibly stupid enough to be dragged into going out tonight. When your coworkers approached you with the idea of going out for drinks after work as a way to celebrate your promotion, you shouldn't of let yourself get sucked in. It took some convincing till you eventually gave in, but you did -- give in.

Going home to change may not have been the best idea, since it gave you enough time to realise what you were doing and how much you really didn't want to go but you knew your coworkers wouldn't accept your cancelation. So instead you made yourself look presentable, good even.

Things had been difficult to say the least over the last month, while things at work were great, mentally everything was horribly. It had been a month since you and Spencer broke up. A month since the last time the two of you talked.

He had called a few times, but you could never bring yourself to answer despite how badly you wanted to talk to him, some night you would spend hours unable to sleep, staring at his contact, although you never went through will calling him, too scared he wouldn't answer.

Once dressed you left, calling an uber because you knew it was a bad idea to even take your car -- the whole point was to drink, and you would need to drink. As much as you loved your coworkers, you could only handle so much social interaction without liquor in your system.

Arriving, you noticed the group of your coworkers waiting for you outside. You pushed a smile to your lips as you approached them. You had many coworkers of course, but you had your bunch who you worked with closely, the ones here with you now.

Elise was your work best friend, you and her worked side by side everyday. She was the one who convinced you to come out. Ethan was another one who you worked with closely, but weren't nearly as close with. Frank was older, he was almost like the father of your job, and then there was Chelsea who was literally franks daughter, she was nice, easy to get along with.

"Theres they are!!" Elise said excitedly, you appreciated the way they all dressed up. You were met with a bundle of flowers, being held out by Ethan. "We got you these, as a congrats present" He smile.

You're entire face warmed as your chest did too. You were lucky to be surrounded by a group of people who cared as much as they did. "Aw, Thank you guys." You smiled widely as you took the flowers, not knowing what you were going to do with them inside the bar -- but you figured you'd worry about that later.

You followed them inside the bar, instantly finding a table. Everything sunk into place, everyone talking and chatty after ordering drinks and a round of shots, -- it was great.

But there was something missing.

You tried not to think about it as you swirled your straw around your glass, filled with alcohol. "You look bored" You turned your head to face Elise. You pushed a soft chuckle pass your lips, shaking your head.

"Im not bored" You denied, because you weren't. You were just waiting and hoping that the pit of empitiness in your stomach would disapear so you could enjoy yourself. She frowned, "Come on, Lets go get shots" She said, offering her hand which you took gracefully.

As you walked over to the table where your coworkers were sitting at to find out if they also wanted another round of shots or not, Elise grew sidetracked, helping Chelsea out with the zipper of her dress that was breaking.

"Ill come with you" Ethan opted, making you smile gratefully as you thanked him. The two of you wandered through the bar, through the crowd of people before you finally reached the bar.

You and ethan made small talk as you waited for the bartender. When he finally came, Ethan ordered. A round of tequila shots. The bartender nodded, it was busy -- so he was doing everything fast. "I am not drinking tequila!!" You gasped as you looked at Ethan.

"Yeah you are" He smiled back.

The smile stayed on your face, "Tequila makes me sad" You said honestly. He pouted dramatically, although you can tell it was sarcastic. "Well we cant have that" He sighed just as dramatically, "I promise if you do get sad, we will make sure to cheer you up"

You smiled but couldn't help but doubt his words -- you knew what you'd get sad about, and you weren't sure anything he did would cheer you up from a sadness like that. The one you could feel in your whole body, every movement.

"Important night?" The bartender asked, as he poured the shots. You went to deny it, not wanting the attention but Ethan spoke before you could. "Yep" He said popping the P, "Pretty girl here got a promotion" He said, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You forced out a chuckle as the bartender congratulated you. Pretty girl was the nickname your coworkers had given you -- it was teasing at first and it started from Elise, but it kind of just stuck.

You got your shots and walked back through the bar holding the tray carefully, as you returned to the table you immediantly got a bad feeling in your stomach, something was off, something was wrong. You could see it in Elise's face as she looked at you.

"What?" You chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows as you placed the tray down on the table. She looked almost guilty, as she shook her head, brushing it off. "Nothing" She said, reaching out for a shot.

Your concern and confusion only grew. "What?" You asked again, there was obviously something wrong. You noticed Chelsea looking in a certain direction, the same direction Elise's eyes kept drifting over to.

Your eyebrows furrowed deeper as you turned your head to look in the direction they were, despite Elise' protests. You almost wish you listened. You felt your entire heart sink.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him -- Spencer Reid. He was already looking at you when you turned your head. You stomach dropped so far you swore you could feel in in your pinky toe.

You heard your name, but you could hardly pull your eyes away from him. He looked good. So good it made your head spin in a million different directions at once. Hearing your name again you finally pulled your eyes away from his, turning your head to face Elise who had concern lacing her features.

"Oh- Gosh- Are you okay?" She rushed.

You felt like your chest had been stepped on. You didn't say anything, instead reaching for the shot glass that remained, and downing it instantly. "I need to get drunk." You muttered.

"Whos that?" Ethan asked, he wasn't quite as caught up in your love life as Elise and Chelsea were. Chelsea scoffed. "Her ex, He is an ass" She said, Elise was quick to nod in agreement. Frank stood minding his own business, but you knew he was listening, he was always listening.

"He's not" You defened, because he wasn't. If there was an ass in the breakup, it was you. You weren't sure what sucked more.

Before Chelsea or Elise could say anything you spoke first, "Can we go get more drinks-- and move closer to the bar, I think ill be going there a lot" You muttered, grabbing the boquet of flowers you had been given.

Everyone was quick to agree, taking their stuff before finding an empty table closer to the bar.

You did exactly as you thought you would -- 4 drinks later, you were a lot mor tipsy but nothing seemed to take the pressure off your chest or cool the heat that Spencer eyes left on you everytime you looked over to see him already looking.

When everyone was engrossed in coversation you excused yourself to the bar, feeling the need for another drink or ten. When you literally asked for the most alcoholic drink possible, the bartender laughed but agreed.

"Congraulations" You swore your heart dropped at the voice. Your hands froze in place and you could feel the sweat building on the back of your neck. You turned your head, finally facing him.

Your eyes ran over his features -- his hair had grown out, it looked good. You wanted to tell him that but you couldn't. "H-How do you.." You wondered how he knew about your promotion, you were sure it hadn't been posted anywhere.

He rolled his eyes, nudging his head towards the table where your coworkers sat, you turned you head to look at them, noticing Ethan's and Elise's eyes on you and Spencer. "Your boyfriend isn't exactly quiet." He muttered, there was something spiteful about the way he spoke.

You whipped your head around to face Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before the realistion dawned on you -- He had heard Ethan tell the bartender about your promotion earlier. "He isn't my boyfriend--Why do you even care." You huffed.

Spencer scoffed quietly, "Yeah Im sure, The flowers and 'pretty girl' really prove that" His tone was laced with jealously. He was jealous. You shook your head as you pulled your eyes away from his face. "It's been a month" He muttered, quieter.

You frowned at the mention at how long it had been since the two of you broke up. "I am well aware of how long its been" You held back from calling him Spence, it was like muscle memory. "The flowers were from all of them" You defended, although there was no reason you needed to defend nor explain yourself to him. "And pretty girl- its a joke-- they all call me that." You muttered.

"I called you that."

His tone still held so much jealously but sounded so much sadder. It made your stomach clench on nothing but the alcohol you had consumed, you turned your head to face him before looking away again, unable to handle the way his expression pulled on your heartstrings.

"I know" You said just as quietly.

The bartender handed you your drink with an apology of how long it took -- you hadn't even noticed. Drink now in your hands yet you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You could smell Spencer's cologne and it was consuming your senses and making your mind fog.

Spencer ordered his own drink after the bartender asked, before he turned to look at you again. "I called." He said.

You wanted to cry-- you wanted to sink into the pit in your stomach and stay there forever. You felt yourself grow dizzy -- he made you dizzy. "I know" You said quietly, scared if you spoke any louder your voice would give out on you. it broke your heart to be standing here next to him, when he had no idea you loved him, when you had no idea if he ever loved you-- let alone if he still did.

He didn't say anything, you assumed it was because he didn't know what to say. He knew you were actively ignoring his calls-- What was there to say to that.

Spencer got handed his drink, he muttered a quiet thanks, but made no movement to leave his place next to you, you didn't either. Neither of you said anything. You felt as if your feet were glued in place -- although you weren't sure if you wanted to move either. It had been a month since you had seen him, and as much as it gutted you to think about, you didn't want to leave yet just incase this really was the last time.

"He isn't my boyfriend, he- he isn't anything more than a friend." You said again, although you didn't look at him, keeping your head down as you sipped your drink through your straw. You didn't need to push so hard for him to understand -- but the last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you had moved on that quick, it almost offended you that he genuinely believed you did.

He opened his mouth to reply, but felt a hand on his back, cutting him off. He looked behind him to see Derek. "What's taking so long, Reid" He asked, a teasing smile on his face. You looked behind you at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes his smile fell slightly as he realised what was taking Spencer so long.

"Hi derek" You pushed a smile to his lips - of course Spencer was here with his team, you should've realised that. They probably just got back from a case, which explained Spencer's business attire, but he wore that more often then not anyways.

"Hey!! How are you doing!" He smiled back, opening his arms to hug you gently. It was friendly a simple. You were close with a lot of Spencer's friends and team, being his plus one to everything for months. Penelope had reached out after you and Spencer broke up, but just like with Spencer you couldn't bring yourself to reply.

"Im okay, how are you?" You asked. You could feel Spencer's eyes on your face and it left a burning sensation where his eyes laid as you pulled away from Derek's hug. "Im good! We've missed you around shortcake" It was a nickname, because of a strawberry shortcake shirt you had worn one time when out with Spencer.

You just smiled in response. You missed them too, a lot. They were your friends, and you hated how you lost that and Spencer all at once, but they were his friends first. "I'll leave you guys be." You muttered, forcing a smile to your lips as you avoided Spencer's gaze, pushing off the bar.

Spencer said your name and it made your head spin, it felt so natural falling from his lips, like it belonged there. If you had to pick only one person to say your name for the rest of your life, it would be Spencer.

You kept walking none the less, holding your drink in your hand as you approached the table. You put it down gently as Chelsea and Elise were instantly at your side, asking what happened or if you were okay.

"I think Im going to go home" You muttered as you felt the all familiar tingle in the bridge of your nose, matching the lump in your throat and burn in the back of your eyes. It was too much.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Frank asked, the fatherily instincts coming into play when he noticed the look on your face -- there was no convincing you to stay. You just shook your head, "Im okay, Thank you" You muttered, as you began grabbing your stuff.

"I'll walk you out" Ethan offered, but you were quick to shake your head. You didn't need to look to know Spencer's eyes were on you from across the bar, the last thing you wanted was to only deepen his concern by leaving with Ethan. "I really just want to be alone." You said, pushing a half hearted smile to your lips, he frowned but nodded.

You said your goodbyes before pushing through the people in the bar towards the door. Once outside, it dawned on you how hot you were, the cold air giving your flushed cheeks a cooling sensation. You dragged your hand over your face as you tried to process what had just happened without bursting into tears.

You opened the uber app on your phone, wanting to get home to wallow in every emotion you had been pushing down for the last month. You should've known tonight was going to end badly.

"Theres been over 3,900 cases of sexual assult or physical violence from ubers"

You turned your head to see Spencer standing at the door to the bar, not far from you but not close. The street wasn't busy, it was dark and only lit by the streetlights.

"Thats less than one percent" You muttered, pulling your gaze away from him. "Who said I was getting an uber?" You asked, despite the fact that you were, it baffled you how he seemed to know everything all the time.

"You're alone, I cant see your car anywhere and the app is open on your phone" He said as if it was nothing. He was a profiler for godsake, of course he picked up on the tiniest things.

You sighed, closing your phone you placed it in your bag, "So what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest - now that the heat had somewhat worn off the cold air was leaving goosebumps over your arms.

"So, let me drive you home." He said.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, shaking your head. "No. Its fine. I think I can handle less than one percent" You muttered, turning away from him again when the heat began rising to your cheeks again under his gaze.

You could hardly handle standing a foot away from him, you doubted you would be able to last a ten minute drive back to your house in the car next to him, you were sure the tension would suffocate you within seconds.

"Why do you do that" He asked taking a step closer to you. You were already resting with your back against the wall, there was no where for you to back away to even if you wanted to. You furrowed your eyebrows as you met his eyes, he looked sad.

"Do what?" You asked as your voice hitched, the pit in your stomach only deepening the more you looked at him, the closer he got the tighter your chest grew, the more he spoke the more your cheeks heated.

He sighed, "Push me away!" He raised his voice slightly, not in a way of anger but pure frustration. He was so frustrated.

"I don- We broke up Spencer" You reminded.

He rolled his eyes, "I know that. Trust me I know that." He muttered under his breath as he got closer to you. "You did it our entire relationship, pushed me away, held back, and then you broke up with me, why do you do that?" He said, brows furrowed as he genuinely tried to understand.

"You know why we broke up" You muttered quietly.

He threw his arms up in distress. "No- I really don't-" He said, before dragging his hand through his hair, only making it messy. You frowned, shaking your head as you reminded him. "We were both busy -- we hardly saw each other, our heads were in different places" your voice raised to the same level as his

"My head was with you!" He shook his head, "My head was always with you!" He sighed, he wasn't shouting, not really, but it was loud enough to match your level.

Your lips parted but you didn't have anything to say. Your head was spinning at the intensity of the coversation, at him -- so close, his cologne and after shave making your stomach feel sickly.

"I thought-" You ran your hand over your face as tears brimmed your eyes.

"You thought, you didn't ask me-- you just- broke up with me" He was shouting now. You genuinely thought your heart had fallen out of your chest. "You pushed me away, and then left like it meant nothing, like it all meant nothing." His voice was breaking with every word as his voice rasied

"It didn't- i didn't think it meant nothing" You were shouting too, and tears ran down your face -- you were unable to help it, each drop hotter and heavier than the last.

"Just be honest, I just- I just need you to be honest, please" He was on the verge of tears himself, and you hated it. You hated the way his voice was breaking, the way his hand was grabbing his shirt, pressing against his chest as if this conversation was bringing him physical pain-- like it was to you.

"You want me to be honest?" You asked, you were now the one stepping closer to him, you were the one shouting -- not out of anger, but you couldn't better express the way this conversation was all consuming every part of your body, your mind, your stomach, your chest.

"I love you Spencer" Your voice cracked as the words came out, "I love you so much, it hurts. It physically hurts when you are gone, when I was spending everyday worrying you weren't going to come home, I love you so much that I thought me worrying about you was unfair because you love what you do, and I was constantly in the way of that. I love you so much that i thought if i broke up with you, you'd be happier -- I thought the how much I loved you would stop hurting." you were practiclly sobbing, you would have been embarassed if you mind was able to focus on anything other than the boy in front of you.

"It didn't, its actually gotten worse because everyday I wake up and your not there, and I still worry about you just as much -- more, i worry about you more. Everyday I wake up and im completely heartbroken. God everyday I wake up and Im still inlove with you, " You continued on your tangent, "I love you so much Spencer"

You didn't even have time to breath before you felt cold hands on either side of your face and the feeling of his lips on yours, you could taste the alcohol on his lips. It was familiar and safe and warm. Your hands found their way to his face, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss was messy and passionate and everything you had missed so much, it was the sort of kiss that made every thought in your brain disapear, it made your knees feel weak and your toes curl in your way to uncomfortable shoes.

You tried to pull away but his lips chased yours, bring you back into him and you didn't make any movement, only kissing him back until you ran out of air, feeling lightheaded. You stepped out of his grasp as you tried to regain balance.

"Ill teach, its not an issue i've wanted to teach, god ill stop working all together if it means you'll come back" He said out of breath, eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth but he cut you off. "I love you, I've loved you since the day that I met you." he was huffing out words as he stepped back closer to you, invading your space and you couldn't complain.

"I don't- I don't want you to have to do that, you love working." you said breathlessly, shaking your head. You didn't want your relationship to mean him stop doing what he loved.

"I want you" He said, voice cracking. "I love my job but I love you." He said it like he couldn't get enough of finally saying it. "I'll work it out so you can come everytime we have a case, please I love you" He was begging.

"What does this mean Spence" You said, heart beating out of your chest. He just shook his head. "Who cares! I love you, You love me. I will do anything, just.. stay - let me stay." He said, grabbing your hand.

"I love you" You repeated.

"I love you" He said back.

"Where do we go from here?" You ask, looking up at him with squinted eyes, you were sure your makeup was a mess, and you looked horrible but there was so much love and hope in Spencer's eyes you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Let me drive you home." He said. You knew that meant it was the beggining. You knew he meant that he didn't know but he wanted to try. He was begging and there was no way you were going to let him go again.

"Okay."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"It was so nice of Walter to help you with the shopping," your mother sings as she puts away a stack of cans in the pantry.

"Yeah," you agree, "it was. Especially 'cause he can carry more bags than me."

She chuckles, "he is rather strong. And big..." she's quiet as she takes out a few more things from a paper bag, "handsome."

"Ma," you gasp and look at the doorway, your father in the next room, still in the recliner.

"I don't mean... not for me," she cackles again.

"Mmm," you put the sugar in the cabinet and turn back as she stares at you, "wait... you mean for me?"

"Well..." her smile falls, "he is so helpful. And nice. And..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I shouldn't say. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."

"You are," you insist, "he's... a lot older. Besides, he wouldn't be interested."

"Hon," she chides, "he looks at you." She tilts her head coyly, "he watches you, you don't notice?"

"Ma," you snort again, "stop. You're going to make it awkward."

"I'm just saying. It wouldn't be entirely crazy, would it?"

"Wouldn't it?" You ask.

She's quiet again. She goes into the pantry again as you try to focus on unpacking. She's just trying to distract herself, you're sure. How can you blame her with all that's going on?

Walter is too old and he's standoffish. He's just doing your dad a favour, nothing more than that. You wouldn't blame him for wiping his hands of it all at Timothy's next catastrophe.

A sudden clatter makes you jump and has your mother scrambling out of the pantry. She grasps her chest as you hear Heather's shrill cry, "Patrick!" You rush out ahead of your mom and watch Heather hold him under his arms, placing him back in his chair.

"What's happened?" Your mom shoulders past you.

"He's alright, we were just working on our exercises," the nurse assures as she pulls back, "isn't that right, Patrick?"

Your father gurgles but doesn't speak clearly. Your mother scrunches up her fingers anxiously and hovers behind the recliner, "did he fall?"

"No, no, it was just the table," Heather points to the TV tray overturned on the other side of the chair. "He's doing very good."

"Oh, oh," your mother touches her forehead and heaves, "I was just... scared."

"Ma, why don't you lay down?" You suggest.

"I can't, I got the groceries--"

"I can get the rest," you promise, "please, I know you're not sleeping."

"Hon," she sighs.

"Ma, please, we don't need you getting sick too," you plead.

"Alright, but you come get me in an hour," she demands.

"I will."

Reluctantly she backs away, finally turning at the door. You listen to her creaky ascension and leave Heather with your father. You tremble as you set away the last of the groceries and fold up the paper bags. You tuck them beneath the sink and try to shake off your nerves.

You need a breath of fresh air. Your heady is fuzzy and your eyes glossy. You go out the back door and sit on the back steps. You shudder out a breath and hold your head. The tears trickle out before you can stop them.

The last week you've outpaced the emotions. Keeping busy with your chores, watching after your mom as she does the same for your father. It's like a snake with its own tail. You can't run anymore. Your shoulders rack as you let yourself cry, heaving into your hand as you hiccup loudly.

You just want your dad back. You want the man who used to tell you cheesy jokes about his tractor and pretend to get his finger caught in the machinery. You want everything to be like it used to be. You want to wake up from this nightmare.

You still as you run out of tears. You stay as you are, hunched over and quivering. The buzzing of insects and gentle sway of the grass hums in the air.

A sudden pounding in the grass brings your head up. Walter jogs towards you, wiping away sweat from his brow as he slows. He wears only a ribbed white take, dampened around his chest and sides. Concern ripples in his forehead as he approaches.

"Everything alright?" He puffs as he kneels before you.

"I... yeah, I'm sorry," you mop your face with your knuckles, "I was just... it's nothing."

You try to smile and your cheeks pinch and your mouth downturns. The strain in your lips tugs at your heart again and you sniff back another wave of tears, another droplet slipping free.

"Sweetheart," he rasps and surprises you as he moves to sit beside you on the step, crowding you against the short railing.

He drapes his arm around you and pulls you to him, pushing your head on his shoulder. He rocks you and hushes you. Even trapped in grief, you can't help but be stunned by his gentleness.

"I'm okay," you insist and try to draw back.

"You shouldn't hold it in," he says as he brings his hand up to pet your head, "your father's a good man--"

Before he can finish, you sob again. You shake your head and bury your face against him. You can't stop. You throw your arm around his neck and pull yourself close. He welcomes you in as his arm snakes snugger around you.

"I'm sorry," you babble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you chant the apology over and over as he hushes you. You can't stop. It's all spilling out and there's no way to stem the deluge.

[wolverineluvr]

may I please request Yandere Geto with a sorcerer gn reader who escaped. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

Thank you for your time.

depravity

A/N: this was nice to write, thank you for requesting it!<33

TW: kidnapping, murder mentions, nonconsensual nonsexual touching, yandere Geto, gn reader.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

You really thought you lost him, that he would never find you. But he did. Of course he did. He always will. He always has.

You were too worried about getting a hotel room. But it's not like you have any money to do that in the first place. You've just been walking from place to place, too scared to stay in one for longer than resting. You left around two days ago, and you started to believe that you could find a place, get a job, and move far away where he would never find you. You wouldn't mind changing your name too much, and being a sorcerer is so draining. Maybe you could settle down, and date without wondering if it'll be the last time you'll see your partner every time you go to work.

It was too good to be true, really. The little bit of hope you had left was crushed underneath the echoing footsteps of Suguru. You would recognize them anywhere. They're soft, like he's approaching an injured animal, yet the sound is deafening to your ears.

The pangs of hunger in your stomach could never compare to the feeling that you get whenever Suguru touches you. You've tried to understand him, you get it, you do. The feeling of working so hard for someone who will never care, who will only hurt and hate you. The feeling of wanting to protect the people you love from that someone and failing so hard. But you could never commit the acts he has. The thought of the lives of siblings, parents, and lovers being crumpled underneath your feet like a piece of worthless paper makes you want to cry.

"Get up." Suguru hums, his hand holding your bicep. He knows you haven't eaten for a while-he had to force feed you when you were with him because you didn't want to eat food given to you by him-and that you've been sleeping in the cold. He could try to understand, and he has, but to him, you're only being fooled by your empathy. He was like you, once. He's only trying to help.

"I said get up." Suguru hisses, his tone harsher but his voice quieter as he roughly pulls you up. You then try to tug your arm out of his grasp, wanting him to let go of you. "Let me go," You mumble, trying to sound tough but you feel like crying. Your eyes are watering as you continue to pull away from Suguru. He just grabs you, pulling you into his arms. He missed you, so much. He's warm, the hug is tight, but it's so comfortable. You hate him, you really do. But maybe you could relax. Just for a little.

But you can't. You want to be warm and loved and safe. But not like this. Not by him.

You start to push at Suguru's chest and shoulders, but you're weak from days of hunger that was satiated. And even if you weren't, you could never overpower him. You know that. Why do you try? Suguru doesn't want to hurt you. Though sometimes you just give him no other choice.

"Stop it." Suguru states simply, closing his eyes in annoyance as he tries to not hurt you. He's angry, rightfully so. You left. And he's been so stressed out, wondering where you are, if you've been okay.

You quickly feel so tired again, so worn out. You want to keep struggling, want to keep fighting. But you're so tired. Your body aches and your eyes burn. Suguru picks you up, you're limp in his arms. You feel defeated, like you're betraying yourself. But you can't help it. You tell yourself to just pretend. That it'll be better if you pretend.

And you do. You pretend that you're in the wanted embrace of your warm lover, and not in the arms of your cold captor. You feel Suguru pick you up, your eyes closed now. You don't want to look at him.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up in the room you were kept in before. Wrapped in warm blankets on the bed, Suguru's bed. And you're right back where this all started. Suguru's never really punished you before, always doting on you. He's stern, but his punishments are just a slap on the wrist. He seemed angrier this time, though. Your arms are sore where Suguru held them, maybe it was just from sleeping on a cold concrete floor this whole time, but when you pull up your sleeves you see bruises, so that's obviously not true.

You lay there for a while, still wrapped in the blankets before you notice some food on the nightstand. There's a note from Suguru like always. Should you eat it? You don't know. It's not like you'll ever escape anyway, you might as well just give in.

Notes : I didn't know how I should end it so the end might be a little weird

[lizzy019]

𝐵𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝐼'𝓂 𝒯𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒹.. ♥

Johnny Cade x Fem!Reader [Reader is female at birth, vanilla dom]

cw -> intimacy, pet names, idfk, it's fluffy smut

Word count -> 1.4K

Johnny was known in the gang of greasers for being shy, sensitive and worrisome. His home wasn't good, so it balanced out to why that was. Regardless, you took a liking to him. How quiet and sweet he could be, his little stutters whenever he got too nervous or something bothered him.

You walked alongside him coming back from the Nightly Double, your arm looped in his as his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets. He walked fast, it made you smile as you struggled to maintain his pace. His expression was all but nervous however, and it made your smile quickly fade.

“Johnny, what’s wrong?” You asked softly, hand rubbing along the flat muscle of his arm.

His puppy-like expression turned more hard when you asked the question, but he simply shook his head in response as if that would quench your curiosity.

“Johnnycake, come on. Y’know I won’t use it against ya.” You assured him more gently, smiling.

This caused him to soften a little, and he turned his head to face you. He seemed worried, real worried too.

“I just.. I don’t wanna go home tonight. What if my parents are still fightin’ like they were before I left? I’m scared they’ll use me as the middleman again.” He confessed, shoulders drooped down and eyes half lidded. 

This also made your body slouch, more in an empathetic manner. Even if you were tired from the movie, your head half asleep, you chose to be kind and responded to him with a genuine apologetic offer.

“Would ya wanna come sleep at my house t’night? My parents ain’t home, gone seein’ relatives. I can sneak ya in, if you'd like.” You smiled, eyes hopeful as you crossed your fingers in your head for a yes. Please, please, please… Your head chanted.

You could see the gears practically turning in his mind, and after a second or two, his response came out positive. A soft “yes” wafted through his lips, and your expression became bright. His pace couldn't match yours as you sped walked all the way to your house.

Back home, you let Johnny shower in your tub and gave him a clean pair of pajamas from the last time he’d come to your home. It was nice, the way he smelled like your soap and his greaseless hair shone from natural health.

He sat on your bed while drying his damp hair, occasionally looking up at you while you removed the light makeup you wore. You were beautiful to him, not even in a lustful way.

Seeing him stealing glances through the mirror, you chuckled softly and put your items down to gently touch his damp hair and press kisses to his hairline. He was a sweetie, you’d come to the conclusion. Johnny looked up at you with bright eyes, his slight smile showing that he liked the few kisses.

“Baby, I’m tired. D’ya mind if I crash on your bed? I know I promised to sleep on the sofa but.. I dunno, it looks uncomfy.” He pleaded softly, which erupted a big smile to your face.

“Sure you can! It may be a bit of a tight squeeze to fit on the bed together, but I don’t mind if you’d like to.” You assured him, changing from your everyday wear to a simple night gown. It was almost pitiful how lazy you were sometimes.

Regardless, you two began to have innocent cuddles with soft kisses and whispers, occasional playful groping and legs tangling with each other’s until you started to feel a little bubbling in your loins. 

You wanted him. Not lustfully, just intimately. From his smile to the way he walked, it was as if your soul wholeheartedly craved him. So in a feeble yet subtle attempt to make your point noticed, your knee was moved to gently grind up at his clothed cock in his pants.

For a second, you felt wrong and rude. Invading his privacy like this wasn't nice, and you wouldn't be surprised if he just pushed your knee away and continued trying to fall asleep.

But it didn’t seem like that. His hips involuntarily grinded against your knee, a whimper or two escaping him as he found it to be hot using some other part of you asides your hand, mouth or pussy to provide him pleasure.

Your hands came to gently run around his torso, his ribcage a bit prominent from lack of food from his parents. You’d cook him food, you thought to yourself. Hands lovingly grazing his pecs, touching his nipples until they hardened before your hand slipped out from under his shirt to gently caress his hip bones.

“Johnny, take everything off..” You whispered, proceeding to take your own stuff off too.

He complied, hands scrambling to take the fabrics of his clothes off as his body adjusted as well.

Cock sprung free, hands nervously twitching and eyes silently begging for assistance. It was cute, he was cute. Johnny’s hands met your waist almost instantly as you pushed him to lay on the pillows, getting into a collapsed cowgirl position for comfort.

“You need a safe word? Or do you think we’re good to go without pauses?” You asked gingerly, your serene voice causing his heart to melt as you put his comfort first.

“N-no safe word, I can do it.” Johnny assured you firmly, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your lips as you fisted his cock once or twice to get a bit of precum on it for lube. You smiled, reaching for the bedside table as you pulled out a condom and some lube.

You gently rolled the condom onto his erection, coating the latex in a bit of lube before you began to sink yourself down onto his cock. A low groan escaped your chest once you fully set yourself onto him.

“Oh Johnny..! Atta boy, stretchin’ me so good.” You moaned softly, pressing lazy kisses to his neck while his hands groped and massaged your tits.

He was whining and writhing in pleasure, eyes watery from the pace and genuine intimacy of the moment. You two were so closely connected, physically and emotionally, that this moment was utter heaven.

“Yes baby, yes! Please, f-faster, faster! I wanna put a baby in you, oh God!” Johnny whined loudly, hands flying to the fat of your ass as he desperately thrusted up into you. 

What a sweetie, you couldn't help but smile, nodding along the way. Your hips collided into his, speeding up the pace as your walls repeatedly clenched and unclenched every time his cock’s tip kissed your cervix. 

“Johnny..! Oh God, don’t stop baby, you got this.” You groaned, pressing hickeys to his skin as a climax bubbled in your lower stomach.

It was speeding, each thrust heightening the feeling of an orgasm which was so close to its finale. Painful cries escaped you as you got closer, his hands tightening around you in a hug as he too felt himself nearing release.

Hot, searing pleasure crashed over both of you, him first with the latex condom almost flying off from thick bubbles of cum before yours came crashing like waves. Pulsating walls squeezed him dry, huffing and panting as your highs faded away.

You were the first to really get up, scurrying off to the bathroom to retrieve a dampened warm towel to clean both of you up.

Towel in hand, you gently peeled the condom off of him with a laugh and made the towel splat on his now floppy cock to clean whilst you put the used latex in the trash.

“Well, that was definitely something.” You chuckled, cleaning yourself up after him and yeeting the towel into the hamper.

Basking in the afterglow, you rest on your side watching him sleep after waking. He looked so peaceful asleep, it made your heart flutter. Regardless, you knew you had to wake up, so you begrudgingly crawled out of bed and fixed the blanket to cover him more before dressing and exiting.

You made yourself a tea to soothe the aches in your throat from screaming in pleasure last night, making him a cup too just before he woke up.

“Good mornin’ baby, how was your sleep?” You asked benevolently, gesturing to the mug with his favourite tea in it.

His smile was shy after that, and he nodded after he sipped his tea.

“Real good, baby, real good”.

[fandoms--fluff]

You're Gonna Laugh

Female reader x Peter Parker

Summary: Peter is scared of thunderstorms and doesn't want you to know

Warnings: just a lot of fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You two are right now asleep, well you are. Peter is laying on his back wide awake trying to suppress the feeling of tears away. He has been afraid of thunderstorms ever since he was a little kid. He'd always hide underneath the blankets, humming a song or he would go to Aunt May's room to cuddle with her.

He feels so stupid, no other sixteen-year-old boy is scared and on the verge of tears because of a lousy storm. It's hard for him to not flinch or move, scared that he'd wake you up.

Another blast of thunder erupted from the sky making Peter whimper and hide underneath the comforter. Soon after you woke up to light humming. You looked around the room and realized that your boyfriend was under the comforter making the humming noise.

"Peter? What are you doing?" You asked and went underneath the comforter too. Once you did his humming immediately stopped and he closed his eyes trying to pretend he was sleeping. You just smiled lightly and rolled your eyes. "Pete, what's wrong? I know you're awake" you said and started to lightly twirl strands of his hair between your fingers.

He turned around facing you with a tear-stained face. "Oh, Baby what's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?" You asked. Peter just looked up at you and then nuzzled his head into your chest. "Your gonna laugh at me though" he complained, You looked at him "Bub I'm not going to laugh, I promise. You can tell me".

Peter looked up at you again and mumbled "I'm scared of thunderstorms." If you weren't so close to him you wouldn't have heard. "Baby that's okay a lot of people are scared of them" You soothed and started to play a bit with his hair. "Yeah, Babys and little kids, not teenagers," He said and another crack of lightning and thunder happened. Making him whimper and hug you squeeze your torso even more than he was already.

"Okay Pete, I need to be able to breath" You lightly laughed a bit. He pouted and loosened his grip a little, looking up at you.

"Don't worry, it'll be okay. The storm will go away soon" you said and brought him into your arms, holding him.

"In and out, there we go" You soothed him. You exaggerated your breathing as he followed suit.

You brought your right hand up to the back of his head and ran your fingers through his hair. He snuggled into you more and basically purred like a cat as you held him to you.

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write. 

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[rin-hanarin]

A quick little thing I wrote based on a prompt from this post.

"A letter from your OC to their love interest", featuring post-Veilguard Renzo de Riva writing to Lucanis after discovering that he can just write whatever he wants on paper, even the things he can't say out loud.

Spoilers for everything.

“Lucanis!

I'm sure you're as surprised to receive a letter from me as Viago would be surprised to learn that I can write at all. Before you panic: I'm fine, it's not a goodbye letter, or a break-up letter, or a last will. I'm alive and as well as I can be without you making me food… which is probably not that great and I'm making you worry even more, but I'm fine.

Anyway, I knew you were gonna be busy as First Talon, and you probably knew that our services would be needed again after The Butcher's death, but this is terrible. It's just contract after contract with more work sprinkled on top, when I'm not busy you inevitably are, and Teia told me you've kept asking about me every time I was away, too. She also advised me to write a letter because apparently I “look like a kicked puppy without Lucanis around, so might as well try some good old correspondence”, which is not true, by the way! The puppy part! But… yeah, I miss you.

I know I'm terrible at letting you know, and, to be honest, sometimes I'm worried that you'll just give up on me with my jokes one of these days, especially when we don't even see each other for weeks. But I miss you. I keep wondering what you're up to. Are you doing well? Are you sleeping well, if at all? How many people did Spite scare the soul out of with his sleepwalking? Is he bothering you much? Does Spite miss me, and how annoying is it to deal with? Have you managed to find any good coffee out there, or any time to enjoy it at all? What contracts do you even accept to be this busy? We're not exactly privy to the “Dellamorte Business” here in House de Riva, or maybe I'm the only one clueless, as usual. I'm sure you don't need to do everything alone, but Viago wouldn't let me join you, either on principle, or… because you asked him not to to keep me safe, and he's all too happy to suddenly be very obedient with the new First Talon? You know I'm more reckless without anyone looking after me, right? Without you stopping me from doing things I might regret?

I'm joking again, by the way, and I'm trying to do better on my own. Just wish I didn't have to go solo again, work or otherwise. Not to be completely soppy, but I think I miss waking up to the smell of your cooking. My hair doesn't smell like coffee anymore and it makes me sad for some reason. I miss you being the first person I see in the morning, now I just have to stare at Viago's sour face as he gives me more work instead of telling me when you're supposed to come back, and I kind of hate it sometimes. Teia takes me out for drinks when I pass through the Diamond, and I think she pities me and I don't get it.

Can you tell this is all very new to me? I don't like this one bit, but I think I also do. I hate thinking about you all the time and waiting for every barely even a kiss when you pass me in some hallway before disappearing again. I hate how excited I am to receive one and how dependent I am on your presence to feel satisfied with anything now. I hate it, I love it. I love you. There, take that. No promises, but if you drop one of your contracts and come home, I might even say that to your face.

This is getting weird and I may or may not be getting misty-eyed writing this, but I'm waiting, Lucanis.

Hopefully still yours,

Renzo de Riva.”

[prettyoatmeal]

Love to Hate Each Other (König x Fem!Reader)

Hello!! I promise I'm not dead!!! I've been super busy recently and had some writers block but I'm doing better now!! I'll be finally answering the requests I've had and upload some more from my drafts :)

CONTENT WARNING: Smut <333 Hate sex, unprotected sex, creampie, size difference, enemies to lovers, arguing, pettiness, sexual and non-sexual degrading (receiving and giving).

SUMMARY: You’d been a part of TF141 for a while now as their best sniper, however, it was recently stated that KorTac would team up with you lot for a mission. You’ve been training with him since and got that little bit of extra skill in your possession, you have the upper hand which drives König mad. You were put in charge of him as to test your leadership skills however it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 2926

Masterlist here!

***************

The fucking nerve of him. Would it kill him to show you just a little bit of respect? It had happened all too quickly. The way his voice boomed at you could've killed you in an instant. All you could do was think back to the argument.

...

"Can you stop shooting at me for fucking once, König?" You'd sneered at him after getting to the safe house. "I know I'm a better sniper than you but you don't need to be all petty 'bout it." "I'm sorry, maybe if you weren't snooping around and staying at your dedicated post like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have shot at you." He wanted to slam the door but knew better than to create another loud bang, "and you're not a 'better' anything than me, your ego is just too high."

"Oh, really? Then why did YOUR commander put you under my supervision for this mission, huh?"

Those words made let out him growl under his breath. He knew the truth, though he was too stubborn to admit. You had skill, but he just didn't and to give you that satisfaction.

"Forget it, just keep your whiny voice down. Don't need anyone hearing us a mile away." His accent got thicker as he hissed his words out at you. "My voice down? Really? Maybe if you hadn't given our spots away every ten minutes, we wouldn't even need to be hiding here! You ought to fix that little issue of yours.”

And that’s what set him off.

“You know what I think your issue is, little miss perfect? I think your problem is that you’re not ready to being a leader, yet they put you in charge of me anyway and you go along with it, ja?” With each word he spat out, he took a step towards you. “I am fully capable of working on my own. YOU left your post. YOU put yourself in danger. You don’t get to be an incompetent little rat then proceed to blame me for it.”

With large steps he’d leaned over you. His piercing eyes felt as if they'd stabbed you, looking down at you with anger, annoyance, disappointment through his hood. You could hear those words become unfamiliar, fuzzy, distorted. Guilt set in.

"You may be a better sniper than me, but you'll never gain that role of leader. It was a mistake they made to put you in charge of me."

König was never one to take advantage of his height with his teammates, he wasn't like this in general. He had a lot of pent up anger towards you, and by god you were scared out of your mind. But you couldn't show that. Not now, you couldn't let him know how much he frightened you. But he knew. He could easily tell. And so you just stood there with an unchanging composure, taking any of the words he'd hurled at you.

"I don't need someone to tell me what to do, and especially not someone like you. Go sleep your bitchy attitude off, I'll take first watch." And with that, he stormed away from you.

...

The bed was uncomfortable. But you weren't sure if it was the bed or if it was the tension in the room. You couldn't sleep. So you just laid there on your side, the argument rerunning itself over and over and over again in your mind. You were uneasy, on edge around him, even if his attention wasn't focused on you. Just being in the same room as him was enough. Yet you still felt petty enough to need to have the last word.

"You're an asshole." Muttering it out made your heart race, but you couldn't care any less.

The rustling of whatever he was doing stopped and after a while, you heard him let out a groan of irritation, muttering something in German under his breath.

"Will you quit it? It's over and done with. Hush up and go to sleep."

The way he'd growl at you to quit talking sent goosebumps over your body out of fear, yet you couldn't bring yourself to keep yourself quiet.

"No, I'm not going to quit." You'd said as you sat up from that uncomfortable mess called a bed. "You're an asshole. You need to hear that." You'd shot him a look of disgust as his eyes met yours from across the room. The lights were dim, but you could still see him quite clearly. You could feel as the air became thick again, the tension between you two growing once more.

"What are you expecting out of bringing it up again, Miss Perfect?" He'd shot back as his eyes glanced back to god knows what he was that he was doing, you couldn't quite make it out.

You'd yanked your legs over the edge of your so called bed, "I think you're forgetting I'm still in charge of you. I'd certainly accept an apology."

He didn't even look back up at you, it was as if he couldn't care any less.

"For what? Hurting your feelings?" He teased.

"You were extremely disrespectful and-"

"And nothing. Go back to sleep." He’d groaned, feelings of annoyance filling his system. Cutting you off just like that. But you were taking none of it.

“What is your problem with me!?" You'd stood up, making your way over to where he was sitting. Your own lips curled to a snarl, pointing fingers. "You have no reason to be so pissy with me, I've done nothing to you!"

This wasn't a common occurrence. Not for you. But he'd really ticked you off. König was being difficult, and you were too, but that didn't take away from the fact that you had no idea what he was so upset about with you. What he was REALLY upset about with you. As terrified as you may be by the hunk of the man, you weren't going to let yourself be demeaned by him.

You could see his eyes narrow at your words. His figure rose, towering over you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt your knees getting weak at the sight of the beastly stature leaning towards you.

"You really want to get into this, sweets?" Hands on his hips.

"I'm not going to let myself be degraded by you! Let alone someone I'm supervising."

And so you stood there, staring each other down. The tension was thick enough to cut with scissors. König, the very person you'd been training with for the past few weeks, standing over you for the very sake of intimidation. You'd almost thought he'd raise a hand at you, but you knew that he'd known better than to do such a thing. The person you'd become good acquaintances with staring down at you, seething, fury in his eyes.

"You want to know why I'm so upset?" jabbing his gloved finger at your chest, he took a step which caused you to take one back. He leaned down, making sure you'd hear every last word which escaped his mouth. "You know how much it kills someone when someone has the skills with a sniper you could only dream of? When you've been in the game for longer than you could imagine, and some little girl who's barely been in the game suddenly has the upper hand."

You couldn't believe it. Your eyes softened for a second before your expression had contorted again, taking a hold of his wrist with an iron grip and pulling it away from your chest.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you sighed, "this whole time your problem was THAT!?"

His eyes stayed focused on you with no sign of leaving.

"God, I hate you so fucking much." You snarled with a sick chuckle. This whole argument could've been avoided.

"The feelings' mutual, Schatz."

His face was so close to yours, you could practically feel his hot breath through the hood he had been wearing. Your hand was still latching onto his wrist, though your hand was starting to give in from putting all your pressure into your grasp.

You had nothing else to say, so you stayed silent. You both did, eyeing each other down to the core. It took a good while before you two had taken glances to the side where you held his wrist put. It seemed you'd both had the same idea as your grip loosened before he mirrored your wrist with his, taking your wrist into his palm. It fit perfectly. The way his hand could so easily wrap around it, taking a tight hold. It made your knees weak.

Your breathing quickened as you kept your eyes on his. The tension continued to thicken, though not just anger this time. There was something else filling the air. The feeling of that intimacy lurked around you two. It was too intimate for your liking, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Your cold eyes glanced back to König's, but he wasn't looking at you anymore. No. His attention was centred on your lips. Fuck. You knew what would be coming next.

One minute, you two were ready to tear each other's heads off, the next, you two were making out. His lips against yours, hungry. Starving. Forceful, but not, both at the same time. The way his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, before he made you take some steps back enough for your calves to hit the frame of that pitiful thing you have been calling a bed.

You pulled away to catch your breath, a string of spit still connecting you two before the fabric of his masked fell to cut that string apart. He'd pushed you back as if he was in a rush, like if he was catching a train in an hour, lifting your legs so they'd wrap around his hips.

"If you really hated me, you wouldn't let me all up on you like this." He let out a sly chuckle as his hands pinned your wrists to you sides.

"Shut your fucking mouth and keep kissing me." You ordered, looking away from him in a bashful manner.

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied as he guided your hand to push the fabric of his mask away, revealing his lips once more before they crashed against yours. You both needed to let off some steam, it seemed that this was the most efficient way for the two of you.

You let out a small whimper as König began to move his hips against yours, grinding against down onto you. It wasn't long before he'd removed your trousers and pushed his middle finger inside you. He'd sucked on it a little beforehand to coat it with saliva, but it wasn't like it was needed anyway. You were practically soaking by the time he'd pushed it in, and it wasn't long either until he'd begun to curl his finger inside you which made you whimper at the feeling. He felt so much better than your fingers alone.

"Look at you, so wet already. Think you're ready for another finger?"

You couldn't help but tighten around his fingers already as he pushed a second finger inside you. You'd muttered a small 'fuck' under your breath at the feeling, earning a small hum of approval from König. His fingers could easily hit against that bundle of nerves. He knew he found it once you let out that cry of pleasure, making him chuckle as he rapidly pressed against the same spot over and over again which made you let out a symphony of moans and whimpers as your wetness grew.

He soon decided you were ready, becoming rather impatient as he'd quickly slide down his bottoms to reveal his growing erection. Your eyes gawked at him for how big he was. How would it ever fit.

"You sure you want to do this? Can't guarantee I'll be able to stop once we're started." His voice was low, the arrogant undertones tied in with the way he spoke irritated you.

You nodded.

With no time wasted, he lined his tip against your pulsing cunt before pushing into you. You let out a long sigh in unison with him as you felt him stretch you out with a mix of pain and pleasure. It wasn't long before he'd started moving in and out of you, and soon your voices filled the room along with the slapping noises of repeated skin-on-skin contact, making your eyes flutter closed as your legs wrapped around him.

The way he moved inside you was different. It felt different. It wasn't like anything you'd felt before. Perhaps hate sex was your new biggest turn on. Oh boy. This definitely wasn't going to be a one time thing. You could already tell.

You could feel yourself getting closer, and you could very much feel the way König was throbbing inside you. The bed creaked non-stop, the room reeked of sweat and sex, with no feelings behind it. Just sex. And goodness, did it feel good. Mustering up the strength, you propped yourself up onto your elbows to take in the sight of the man pounding into you. And like that, your eyes met his once more. Half closed with the slightest distortion, he let out a low chuckle as he gripped onto your wrists once more and pinned them next your head. With a single, extremely forceful thrust, he was able to hoist your hips up further against him, almost like in a mating press. The new position allowed him to hit a whole other region, able to slam against your g-spot over and over again, causing a harmony of whimpers and moans to emerge from your throat which you just weren't able to hold in. You were so lost in the pleasure, as you almost couldn't comprehend what König was speaking. Leaning down to press his lips against your neck, he whispered to you;

"See, Schatz? You're so much prettier when you're not unnecessarily running your mouth."

That stupid nickname. That stupid term of endearment he used on you drove you insane. Well, did he hate you or not? You could never tell. The way his hands slipped upwards, unballing your fists so he could intertwine his fingers with yours, the way he'd pound into you as rough as he could yet he'd still make that time to hold onto your hands, the way his lips would brush over bruise and bite mark he'd leave on your skin. It was all so confusing. So mind boggling. It made you want him even more.

"Y-You don't- oh fuck.. -hold the hand... of the person you hate during sex.." You'd managed to choke out a single sentence between König's thrusts. And he was having none of it.

"Shh, shh.." He'd shush you, "Halt die Klappe, stop fucking talking... stop talking. Keep quiet for me, Schatz." His hips began to slam against you faster, making sure to hit against every nook and cranny inside you. Schatz. That word echoed in your mind.

You were in no room to argue again so you did as you were told, you stopped talking and let your moans continue to spill out. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm by the second, and it was only a matter of time before he removed a hand from your wrist and moved it between your legs, his fingers moving against your clit in a circular motion. He knew what you wanted, and he was going to give it to you. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His hot breath hitting against your sensitive, overly bruised neck, the way his fingers circled your plump bud, the way his thrusts felt like there was still no end in sight was all too much.

Taking in a deep breath, you rolled your eyes back before squeezing them shut. You were unable to hold back that loud cry of pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, coming fully undone to those fingers of his. You could feel yourself pulsing and throbbing against his fingers, your hearing gone fuzzy by the time. You squeezed tightly around König's cock, in complete euphoria as he made you ride out your orgasm. Your hips bucked against his as you just barely opened your eyes again.

"Oh, Schieße... (Y/N)!" He'd moaned out as he pulled away from your neck and crashed his forehead against yours, gripping onto the flesh of your hips as he practically pulled you into him with each slam. One more thrust and he'd let out a final moan before filling you up with his seed. There was... a lot. You could feel his cum oozing out of you before he even pulled out.

Your breathing was heavy, both of you coming down from cloud nine. The best sex, and best orgasm, you'd ever had.

"You don't hate me." You were the one to speak first. The fabric of König's mask was pushing up against you every now and again with each heavy breath he'd release, "you don't kiss someone and hold their hands like that when you hate them..."

His eyes opened, staring right back at yours,

"You seemed like the type to need that emotional support, I was simply just trying to provide it."

"So you do still care about me."

He went silent before he closed his eyes again, burying his 'face' into your neck.

"... Halt die Klappe,,"

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

[mysticsublimeperson]

<< part 2 >>

Merlin woke up feeling cranky, he didn't exactly sleep. It resembled more to several disgusting and sweaty naps, and a lot of self deprecating introspection in between.

So Merlin decided to stop trying around 10 am, and moved to the sofa. He didn't have anything to do that day, they weren't waiting for him in the lab, nor in the office, they all thought he would have been too hangover. Funny.

He needed to get out, to get coffee, to try and look for a new perspective, or at least a solution, so he got up and dressed and went to open the door.

A sharp thud sounded when something collide to the ground.

"Arthur?"

"Shit, er... Merlin, sorry, good morning?" Arthur was trying to blink away the heaviness.

"Were you sleeping in my hallway?" Merlin was really confused now. Arthur had always been a bit of a prat, and he grew up rich (and still was very rich, even if he denied it) so he was posh. In all the years he knew him, Arthur had never volunteered himself to discomfort, because he could afford not to.

"Yeah, I.. Well, you told me to go, but then I thought that if I went then I would have to come back in a few hours, and well it was really early in the morning, and I didn't bring my car, so I would have to call for a car and then, well come back, and wold spend like a proper half hour just pacing around my flat, just so far away from you... guessed you also wouldn't be answering your phone, so waiting here seemed like the better option. But now that I say it out loud, it sounds kinda stalk-ish" He said sheepishly, his voice was still deep, and slow. Trying to recover from sleep. He stood up, but was supporting in the door frame. "It's just... you seemed really upset. I know I was the reason, but" he gulped "you are always for me when I'm like that..." Merlin sighed.

"Come in" Merlin talked with a controlled voice. He would have wished for a little more time to figure this out, but if he was honest maybe more time would have only made him more paranoid.

"I, er, yeah, thank you" It was extremely strange to hear Arthur so insecure, but Merlin needed to focus on his situation, and not fall into old habits. "How.. How did it go? Yesterday I mean, sorry I didn't ask sooner"

Bad, he wanted to say.

You ruined it, he wanted to shout.

I missed you, he wanted to cry.

"Fine, I guess" he didn't want to offer information, he sat in the sofa again.

Arthur gulped again and put on a tight smile. "I see" sitting beside him.

"And you? How was your dinner?" Merlin suddenly felt tired again, he didn't want to shout, or yell, he didn't want to incriminate or fight, he just wanted this situation to be over. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several

"Merlin. I am so sorry" he said after a while. Without looking at him. "I know there's no excuse... and the way I treated you when you arrived here too... you didn't deserved that" his voices sounded tight.

If this had been any other day, Merlin would have folded, he would have told him that it was forgotten. Any other day, Merlin would have bitten the bullet of disappointment, and would have try to understand his point of view, his situation. Any other day...

"Arthur" he said after a long silence "I think it's time for us to rethink about what we want from this relationship" he could see the moment all the muscles in Arthur's body tensed up.

"What do you mean?" He sounded so scared, and Merlin fought the urge to hold him.

"What I mean Arthur it's that, this relationship can't go on like this forever" Merlin breathed slowly, trying to express himself as accurately as posible "I feel like im living on borrowed time with you, and even if you are the one in the wrong, I feel like I should just be grateful to have you a little longer, no matter how you much you may hurt me"

"That's not true Merlin, please, I would never intentionally hurt you. how can you think that? I love you" he finally looked Merlin in the eye. They were red and swollen, and a bit desperate.

"I know you love me Arthur, I believe you" he tried to swallow the knot in his throat "but sometimes that's just not enough" Merlin sat back at the sofa, looking at the ceiling. The same ceiling he had been looking since he arrived yesterday, thinking the same things, over and over. "I know you love me, and I love you, more than anything. But I also know that you would never invite me to a company dinner, you would never even acknowledge me in front of your coworkers, you would purposely hide me from your dad..."

"Merlin" Arthur said his name like a warning.

"Im not trying to be resentful Arthur" Merlin spat "they're just facts. Like the fact that you hate your job, and it makes you miserable. But you would never leave. Even if it's a shit job, at a horrible and inmoral company" he kept his tone neutral, he wanted to make a point "I would never ask you to leave, because a would never want to put you in a position where you would need to choose"

"Merlin" now his name sounded like a prayer, and a question.

"I think I always knew that I really never had a chance if you had to choose" suddenly his voice quivered.

"That's not..."

"Arthur please!" he really didn't want to hear empty promises, so he made a gesture for him to wait "I told you that yesterday was important, you knew that. And you choose him" he will not cry, no more "You ditched me, last minute. You left me alone even though I told you I Wanted you with me" his words bouncing on the walls.

"I didn't think..." Arthur was trembling a bit. And he looked like his world had been rocked and put upside-down.

"Arthur, you already have a life planed out. And you are the one that's choosing to keep it that way, you are going with the plan. And one day I will have to see how the papers and magazines cover the stories of you ascending to CEO of the world's most evil construction company, and marrying a young nice pretty girl, who is really boring and bratty but also insanely rich and has good connections, and have three beautiful very normal and healthy kids... all while I keep fighting with my little NGO to change the status quo that you reinforce. Don't you see that you don't have space for me in your future?" all the resolve to keep his cool abandoned him mid speech but at least he got it out. Arthur was looking at him like he had just told him that he only had a minute to live.

"I don't see a future without you Merlin" Arthur said, really softly, eyes shining with soon to be shed tears.

It hurt Merlin to hurt Arthur.

He never wanted to hurt Arthur.

Merlin brought up his legs and hugged his knees, hiding his face momentarily biting his lips hard, while blinking away the tears. "I love you Arthur, and I don't think I could leave you alone if I wanted to. But I think this relationship... it puts unfair expectations, for both of us" Merlin swallowed "It's not fair for me to expect something you are not ready, nor willing to give" he argued as calmly as he could. "I suppose we work better as friends"

He could see Arthur wanted to fight.

He also could see that Arthur had seen his point.

"What if...?" Arthur started, shaky. "What if I leave?" Merlin's brows furrowed confused. "My father, I mean. What If I leave him? What If I leave Pendragon Constructions? Everything... what if i..." he was starting to stammer and was not making sense. So Merlin took his hands.

"Why would you do that?" I was the genuine confusion in his expression that made Arthur sob.

"Because I love you Merlin!" he practically screamed with broken voice and desperate eyes. "please" begged silently.

"I think that if you do that. You'll resent me, eventually" he tried to reason while giving a reassuring squeeze to his hold "He is your father Arthur, you love him, and you want to make him proud, I understand that" even when he knew what it meant for himself "But you also are better than he could ever be" he assured "You won't ever lose me, I'll just need some space"

"I don't think I can do that" Arthur spoke carefully while caressing his hand "I don't know how to, I don't want to" he breathed trying to calm himself. "But I will try for you if you want me to" he swallowed "But don't misunderstand. I am not giving up on us. I won't" using his hold he pulled Merlin in for a hug. "I am sorry, I am sorry I disappointed you, I am sorry you felt like that, but above all I am sorry that you are right" he hugged him strongly and Merlin tried and failed nor to melt in his arms. "But this won't be the end Merlin, you are right for now. I will work, everyday, every moment to deserve you, to make you feel loved, to prove to you and to myself that I can become the man that you think I can be, and when that day arrives, Merlin I will sweep you off your feet" he talked those words like it was a threat, directly in his ear, while holding him close, so Merlin decided that just one last time, he would believe in him.

He would keep hoping.

[lynxtheserval]

Y'all I had a moment, I'll start working on the requests after this but I had to get this down lmao.

Also this one honestly made me laugh a little bit, just because of the wording and how tired I am, so, not my best work lmao.

Anyway I had an idea of a reader being stuck in the Phighting world or something, and yada yada this happens or something.

I was deadass kinda creeped out while writing this HELP, but my friend said I should post it so here I am haha

Yandere Broker x human reader - Paranoia

(TW: Yandere shit, kidnapping, stalking, and the use of the word "dollface" (insert :cryinglaughing: emoji here))

A cheerful smile is what The Broker was known for. Being happy, being cheerful, having a smile on his face at all times. Although, currently, he may be smiling, but he wasn't happy. He had you in his grip, but then you decided to fight back and run. He lost his sights on you, where were you?

You were hiding, that's where you were. You weren't even used to being in this world yet, much less being used to HIM.

“I'll protect you, you aren't used to this world, so I’ll help you, my dear!” Is what he told you. At first, you didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but now you can take a guess.

He seemed charming at first, but he wasn’t a trustworthy guy, you’ve heard it from everyone. It was one of the first things you learned about this world. Now, you see why people say that so often.

As soon as you declined his offer to live with him, because you heard the warnings, you started feeling more… paranoid, after that.

Waking up, paranoid.

Walking through the streets, paranoid.

Eating, paranoid.

Sleeping, paranoid.

You randomly got paranoid with everything you did. This didn't happen back in the human world as much, so you knew something was going on, but you ignored it.

Of course you ignored it, didn't tell anyone, just kept feeling scared, until it finally caught up to you.

One odd night, you were feeling extra paranoid. You were walking to where you were staying, as you looked around you realized The Broker was staring at you, sitting by a lamppost. His one white eye seemed to be shining in the dark, catching your attention.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he got up and walked toward you. You were a little creeped out by him, sure, but you’ve only talked to him a few times, so you stayed long enough for him to walk up to you.

He stared at you, and grinned with a larger smile then he had before.

“Y/N! Fancy seeing you here!” He giggled, a unsettling giggle. He knew you walked this way, same place, same time, every day. He was just waiting for you this time!

His giggles creeped you out, and you were getting red flag warnings everywhere. You had to get out of there as soon as you could, since no one could come help if Broker decides to do something bad.

“Oh- Broker! Hey!” You said, nervously fidgeting with your hands, avoiding too much eye contact. The Broker took notice of this, and gently took your hands into his.

“You seem.. nervous!” He said cheerfully, brushing one of his thumbs over your hand. “Don't be nervous dollface! I wouldn't harm someone like you.”

Okay.. that's creepy. You were officially creeped out. You tried to move your hands but Broker decided to tighten his grip.

“Broker..? You.. you can let go now..!”

“Darling..” The Broker hummed in amusement, “Calm down! I just want to hold your hands...”

You yanked your hands away from him, startling him, giving you enough time to run.

Fast forward to now, you were hiding behind a dumpster. You hit a dead end, and you were exhausted from running. Broker was close, you could hear his footsteps. His shoes were clicking against the pavement, making you nervous. The sound kept getting closer and closer. Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear the blood pulsing through your ears.

Then the click-clack of the footsteps stopped.

A few long moments pass. A few long, long moments. Your eyes were squeezed shut in fear, as you tried to hold your breath.

“Oh, dollface~..”

Your eyes shot open, and right in front of you was The Broker, staring directly into your eyes. Before you could react in any way he grabbed a hold of you, and covered your mouth with his hand.

“Now, make this easier for yourself, alright? We both know you can't run anymore!”

Of course you tried struggling out of his grasp, but instead of getting released like you should've, you felt an object hit the back of your head and your vision went dark.

You should have listened to the paranoia, Y/N.

[princessxt]

Hiya! Can we please get a Dean Winchester and Daughter Reader fic? It can be as however long as you want.

Hiii, omg this is my fist imagine, I hope you like it🤍

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

You can see the list of who I write about here

like and follow to encourage me to keep posting<33

You look like Dean Winchester in this light

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Daugther!Reader

Gender: Fluffy?

Warning: None

——————♥︎♥︎——————

I turn from side to side in bed, trying to fall asleep again, after waking up scared from a nightmare.

It's been a week since my life changed completely. My mother had been murdered by a spirit, my father, who my mother told me was dead, appeared saying that he hunts demons and other supernatural things with his brother. And now I'm here, in a any roadside motel with them, who are my last living relatives.

Knowing that sleep wouldn't come again, I get out of bed, feeling the cold breeze hitting my body. I put my feet in slippers and go to the dresser, grabbing a soft, warm coat. Before opening the bedroom door I see that they are 2:53 am. I leave the room and huddle inside my coat in the cold air. I close the door and go to the soda machine, taking 2 cans of Coca-Cola. I sit on the stairs and open the can of soda. I watch the cars passing by. down the dark road and I see one of them entering the motel parking lot. A couple gets out and goes to the reception, leaving a few minutes later. They go up the stairs and look at me sideways, but soon enter a room. I drink the cold liquid from the can and I think about everything that happened in the last few days, still trying to understand everything. I was so focused on my thoughts that I didn't notice that Dean had left his room, which was next to mine.

"Did you lose sleep too?" He sits next to me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"I woke up from a nightmare and couldn't sleep again." I pick up the can of soda that was still unopened and hand it to him.

"Want to tell me how it was?" He opens the can and takes a sip. I take a deep breath and start to remember the dream.

"It was with my mother. I was in a house. It was dark and I heard her screaming, calling my name and asking for help. I tried to scream back while I opened the doors of the house looking for her. My voice wouldn't come out, and when the doors opened, the room was empty. When I finally find her, she stops screaming. I arrive too late to save her." I look at the road, avoiding eye contact with Dean. Our relationship was strange, we didn't know how to behave around each other. We could even be father and daughter, but we'd only known each other for a week, and under troubled circumstances.

"I'm sorry" He says after a few minutes, breaking the awkward silence. I just shrug.

"I know we don't know each other very well. But I want to try to do this right. I want to try to be a father. The father that I wasn't to you when you were growing up. I want to be, from now on, the father figure that I I never have. It's going to be difficult, I'm sure of that, but I'm willing to face a lot of things to have a good relationship." He speaks and I feel his gaze on me.

"My mother always said that I am a very difficult person to deal with." I finally look at him. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I looked like him. His dark blonde hair, his green eyes reminded me of mine. Sam had noticed earlier, while we were on the road in Dean's '67 Impala, that our tastes were similar. He liked classic rock. and he loved crude jokes, just like me.

"I can handle this. You'll also have to work hard to like me." He gives me a little push with his shoulder, making me laugh.

"I saw a 24-hour snack bar near here. Want to have a late-night snack?" He gets up and looks at me from above. I agree and get up too.

"I hope there's pie and cheeseburgers there" We headed towards the Impala, and got in, heading to the snack bar, which wasn't far away.

I may not have noticed, but Dean smiled the entire way, realizing that in addition to gaining a new reason to fight evil, just to ensure I have a better future, he would have the chance to do better than his father did with him and his brother, giving his all to make me happy, and putting me as a priority in his life.

[sidekick-hero]

When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name

(steddie | explicit | wc: 5151 | cw: none | written for @steddiemas prompt smutty sunday kink discovery | tags: modern au, PWP, Porn with Feelings, established relationship, mirror sex, fluff, this is very soft)

Summary: "Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze.

The light of the setting sun has almost disappeared, leaving a dim twilight that barely illuminates their bodies. Steve doesn't think he needs any light for this, he knows Eddie's body by heart, all his senses so attuned to him that the absence of one of them wouldn't make much of a difference. But then he happens to look past Eddie to the ceiling, and what he finds there makes his heart stutter in his chest.

A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it before, too caught up in his husband it seems. But now that he's seen it, he can't look away, can't stop drinking in the way they look in the faint light that still filters in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Getting away for a weekend of wellness at a spa has been the only thing that has kept Steve going for the past couple of weeks. He loves his job, he really does. But teaching a bunch of middle schoolers only to come home to his own little tornado of a four-year-old has taken its toll. Eddie isn't much better off, as he's been working extra shifts at his uncle's garage on the weekends since Wayne sprained his hand, and that, on top of his tattooing job, has left his husband exhausted as well.

The spa had been Robin and Chrissy's wedding anniversary gift, and Wayne's gift had been to take care of April while they were gone. Everyone thought it would be Steve who would have separation anxiety, that he’d be the one unable to relax knowing he was away from his daughter for three whole days.

But it's Eddie who is on the phone with Wayne once again, asking how their little love bug is doing. It's the third call since they got here two hours ago and Steve would be annoyed that his husband spends all his time on the phone instead of on him, but it's incredibly cute to see this overprotective side of Eddie. As Steve mellowed over the years, Eddie became more anxious at times. Steve had once asked him where the devil-may-care guy had gone, and Eddie had looked at the sleeping bundle in his arms and then at Steve with so much naked love that Steve had felt tears well up in his eyes. Eddie had told him: "This guy has something to lose now, and that scares the hell out of him."

"I trust you, Uncle Wayne. It's just..." He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm being silly, aren't I?" Eddie laughs at himself, obviously embarrassed. "Yeah, you're right, I should. Give April a kiss for us. Hear you tomorrow, okay? And call us if - fine, jeez, okay, I'll -" Eddie stops, pulls the phone from his ear and stares at it in disbelief before looking at Steve with the most offended expression on his face. "He just hung up on me! Can you believe that?"

Steve chuckles before clicking his tongue in mock offense. "He did now? Wow, so rude."

"Somehow I get the feeling you don't take me seriously, oh love of my life."

"What gives you that impression, oh light of my days and nights?"

They smile at each other, their faces glowing, and Steve wonders if you could die of happiness. Then Eddie grins, mischief in his eyes, and before Steve knows what's happening, he's running to the bed where Steve is lying and pouncing on him. The impact pushes the air out of him in a loud huff.

"Get off me, you barbarian."

Eddie cackles maniacally on top of him. "Barbarian, really? Is this some secret fantasy of yours, Stevie? Me ravaging you like a barbarian?"

Shaking with laughter beneath him, Steve shakes his head. "Not really. I saw you cry when you watched Babe with our daughter, who, I might mention, didn't shed a single tear. I don't think I'm buying the barbarian."

Eddie's hips settle between Steve's legs and he leans on his elbows next to Steve's head. He looks down at him and gives him a gentle kiss on the nose before snarking back at him. "Oh, excuse me for teaching our daughter that it's okay to have feelings and show them freely, Mr. Macho Man."

Instead of answering with words, Steve shows Eddie freely how much he feels by capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He takes his time, just pressing their mouths together in a silent sign of affection.

It's been a while since they've had time to indulge each other since they adopted April two years ago. Steve wouldn't trade their little girl for anything, but sometimes he misses the days when he and Eddie would spend all day in bed, fucking for hours and then falling asleep on top of each other, sticky and gross, only to wake up and do it all over again. Nowadays it's mostly quick fumblings in the dark, like teenagers still living under their parents' roof.

As usual, Eddie is on the same page as he is, his hands cupping Steve's face as he begins to move his lips languidly over Steve's, adding just a hint of tongue to ease the glide of their mouths against each other. It's Steve whose patience finally runs out, too eager and hungry to taste the man he's been with for almost a decade.

They kiss like this for what feels like hours, licking into each other's mouths, spit-slick lips coming together again and again, only parting for much needed air before finding each other again like magnets. At some point Steve's hands find their way under Eddie's shirt, gently tracing the muscles of his back, enjoying the feel of his soft skin under his fingertips. It makes Eddie sigh contentedly into his mouth and relax further into Steve's body. Everything around them has become soft and hazy, the sun just setting outside, bathing the hotel room in a warm orange glow.

Steve's eyes have been closed until now, just surrendering to Eddie and their kiss, but the changing light makes him open them. The sight that greets him takes his breath away.

"You're so beautiful," he tells Eddie, their lips just inches apart as he gets lost in the warm amber of his husband's eyes in the low light of the dying day. The smile he receives in return wrinkles the skin around those beloved eyes, and he drowns in the love he finds in them.

Holding Steve's face gently in the palm of his hand, Eddie traces the arc of his cheekbone with his thumb and brushes his nose against the other before capturing Steve's lips in another kiss.

"I love you, Steve Harrington-Munson."

"I love you more."

"I had to fall for a competitive ex-jock who always has to have the last word, huh?"

"Sounds like a you problem, dear."

By now they're both smiling so big it hurts, and finally the laughter bubbles up from their chests, mingling between them, filling the room with the sound of their happiness.

As it slowly fades, silence falls around them again as they look into each other's eyes, understanding passing between them without the need for words. The energy shifts from joyful and light to something heavier, thicker, as Eddie sits up and pulls off his shirt, revealing miles of pale skin adorned with tantalizing black ink. Steve reaches up to trace it reverently, as if he hasn't seen it a million times before.

"Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze.

The light of the setting sun has almost disappeared, leaving a dim twilight that barely illuminates their bodies. Steve doesn't think he needs any light for this, he knows Eddie's body by heart, all his senses so attuned to him that the absence of one of them wouldn't make much of a difference. But then he happens to look past Eddie to the ceiling, and what he finds there makes his heart stutter in his chest.

A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it before, too caught up in his husband it seems. But now that he's seen it, he can't look away, can't stop drinking in the way they look in the faint light that still filters in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Noticing the shift in Steve's attention, Eddie follows his gaze and turns to see whatever it is that has Steve so enraptured. His gasp is loud in the silent room as their eyes lock in the mirror, both their face taking on similar expressions of wonder and hunger at the picture before them. The picture they make.

"Fuck, Stevie, look at you. All laid out for me," Eddie breathes, his voice full of wonder. He sounds like he's never seen Steve disheveled and wanting before. In fact, he sounds just like the first time they made love so many years ago.

Without tearing his eyes away from where they are locked with Steve's in the mirror, Eddie's hand finds the bulge in his pants and begins to slowly massage it. It draws a needy moan from Steve, his hips bucking against the hand on him, and Eddie moans in sympathy as he feels the hot, hard flesh twitch. "You don't even know what you're doing to me, do you? Fuck, Stevie, baby, I got an idea. Trust me?"

Steve knows the tone, has heard those words more than a few times and it always ended with both of them worn out and deeply satisfied. Leaning up on his elbows, he gently bites Eddie's nipple to show him he's in, and his cock twitches again under Eddie's hand in eager anticipation. "Always. What do you want me to do?"

When Eddie tugs at the hem of his shirt, Steve instinctively lifts his arms, the dance of getting each other naked a familiar one. After quickly turning on the bedside lamp next to them, Eddie's mouth finds his again and this time their kiss tastes of excitement and hunger.

Whatever Eddie is planning, Steve can't wait.

He wants to watch them kiss in the mirror, strangely drawn to the image of them together, but the angle is all wrong and it's not worth breaking their kiss. But when their mouths part and Eddie begins to lick and suck and bite his way down Steve's body, Steve can't help but follow his movements in the mirror above them. It’s strangely mesmerizing to watch bruises bloom on his skin wherever Eddie worships his body with a single-minded determination he usually reserves to playing his sweetheart.

When he reaches the waistband of Steve's jeans, Eddie stops, his chin digging into the soft flesh of his stomach as he follows Steve’s gaze to where they are watching them in the mirror. “You like watching yourself while I get you off, don’t you, sweetheart.” It's not a question.

It's silly, but Steve feels called out by it, like he's been caught doing something naughty. It’s even worse that the feeling makes his cock twitch. It seems that being with Eddie, who's a kinky son of a bitch, has rubbed off on him. In more ways than the literal one.

It sounds defensive when he replies. "Who says I don't like watching you?"

Instead of answering right away, Eddie starts sucking another bruise in the supple flesh above his waistband, and Steve can't take his eyes off his own face in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes dark and shining in the lamplight, his mouth slightly open and panting, his lips swollen and wet from their shared spit. His hips keep shifting under the attention and the heat pooling in his stomach is quickly spreading.

The smug smile on Eddie's face as he catches Steve's eyes in the mirror tells him that Eddie knows exactly how turned on Steve's right now. "You can look at me anytime you want. But the look on your face right now, so needy and wanting. You don't usually get to see that, isn’t that right?” Eddie teases him further by biting his hipbone and another moan falls from Steve's mouth.

The smirk on Eddie’s face looks even better in the mirror. “It's hot, I know it is. That look on your face haunts my dreams since I first saw it, love. I get it.” And then, as he unbuttons Steve's jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper, his voice takes on a deeper tone as he commands, "Keep watching.”

So Steve does. He watches as Eddie pulls down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, watches as his own heavy cock slaps against his stomach, already so hard and leaking even though it has barely been touched. He marvels at the sight of his tanned skin flushed with arousal, the shifting of the muscles beneath, the fine hair dusting his creamy thighs, the thick bush of coarse dark hair around the base of his cock. It's mesmerizing, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his body shifts under Eddie's eager hands and a thick drop of pre-cum forms at the tip of his cock, catching the light before dripping down onto his stomach, adding to the small pool already gathering there.

"Beautiful." Eddie's voice is reverent as he says this and his broad hands slide up Steve's bare thighs to his hipbones, almost worshipful. Then he leans down, nuzzling the hot flesh of Steve's cock and sticking out his tongue to lap up some of the wetness gathered under the head before taking him into his mouth. It draws a moan from Steve, his hips bucking involuntarily at the sensation of wet heat around the sensitive flesh.

Eddie chokes around him, obviously not expecting the way Steve shoves himself down his throat with the motion. But instead of pulling away it only spurs Eddie on and he slides down further, taking Steve deeper and deeper until his nose is buried in the thick patch of dark hair at the base of his cock.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of Eddie's mouth on him, Steve moans brokenly. It's not the first time, hell, it's not even the hundredth, but seeing it in the mirror above and feeling it at the same time has him shaking with need. Eddie swallows around him and Steve feels his throat tighten with the movement, a long fuck followed by Eddie's name the only reaction he allows himself. Part of him wants to move, to slide in and out of Eddie's throat, to fuck his mouth like he would his ass. But a bigger part of him wants to let Eddie take control and just watch, like a voyeur of his own pleasure.

He never thought that watching them fuck in a mirror would be like this. To be honest, he never even contemplated it before, and if he had, he would have thought that he would be into it a normal amount. But normal is the last thing he feels about the whole thing.

Then Eddie finally starts to move, slowly bobbing his head on Steve's length, his tongue sliding up and down the underside of his cock. Eddie is on his stomach between Steve's legs, his hands on Steve's thighs for balance, and Steve marvels at the broad expanse of his back. It's mesmerizing, the way his shoulder blades move as he goes up and down, making the dragon tattooed on them look like it's moving, ready to take flight. Or the way his hips keep shifting, the muscles in his ass clenching subtly as he humps the bed to take some of the pressure off his own cock. It's watching himself that's new and exciting, but he'd be lying if he said that watching Eddie pleasure himself from this angle didn't add fuel to the fire in his veins.

Every time only the head of Steve's cock is in his mouth, Eddie looks up at the mirror and his eyes find Steve's. The dark brown of them is almost completely swallowed by his pupils, like the inky black eyes of a demon, and the lock in them is wicked. He knows exactly what this is doing to Steve, can feel it in the way Steve's cock twitches and his balls are pulled tight against his body, already as close to coming as a virgin getting his first blow job.

And that's when Eddie suddenly pulls away from him.

Steve is not proud of the whimper that falls from his throat, but he was so fucking close, his pleasure about to peak with surprising speed. But now, as the air of the room hits the wet skin of his spit slicked cock, his climax is already out of reach.

With gentle hands rubbing up and down his thighs, Eddie soothes him. "I know, baby, I know. But as much as I love you coming down my throat, I want you to see how beautiful you look when you're coming on my cock."

"Oh God."

"Thought so," Eddie chuckles. "I'll be right back."

True to his word, Eddie only gets up from the bed to shed his remaining clothes, presenting Steve with even more pale, inked skin and the mouthwatering sight of his hard and heavy cock before he walks over to their unpacked bags to rifle through them. As he squats down to do so, Steve gives him a low and teasing whistle and Eddie looks at him over his shoulder with a lascivious wink before turning back to the task at hand. Steve still clocked his goofy grin which matches the one on his own face. He never had a lover he could laugh with as much as with Eddie, no matter how kinky or filthy they fucked.

Seconds later, Eddie finds what he's looking for: a bottle of lube. Before Steve can blink, Eddie is back between his spread legs, but instead of resuming his earlier position, he shuffles forward on his knees and hooks his arms under Steve's thighs to lift them onto his own, Steve's ankles crossed behind his back. The heat in Eddie's eyes as he sees Steve splayed out in front of him sends goosebumps up and down Steve's body.

Even after almost a decade, Eddie has this intense way of looking at him, like he would devour him whole if he could. Like he's never wanted anything more in his life than Steve, and Steve has no idea how to live without that feeling. He hopes he never has to find out, and that even when they're old and having geriatric sex, Eddie will still look at him like that.

Steve is so lost in the look on Eddie's face that he doesn't even notice his husband opening the bottle of lube and coating his fingers with it. It's only the slightly cold sensation of the lube-slicked fingers as they tease his rim that alerts him to the next phase of Eddie's plan.

"As much as I love to have your eyes on me, I need you to look up in the mirror. I want you to see what I see every time I get to have you like this."

As always, Steve can only comply when Eddie's voice gets like this, his voice soft and deep, but also firm. Knowing exactly what they both need. It's not that he's always in charge, quite the opposite. Often it's Steve who takes him apart, who uses his voice as well as his hands on Eddie until he's a needy mess writhing on the sheets. But God, he loves it when Eddie takes over and allows Steve to give up the tight grip on his self-control and just let Eddie take care of him.

In the mirror he sees himself spread out on the sheets, his thighs hugging Eddie's sides and his own hands on either side of his head. His hair is a mess and he sees his face slacken with pleasure as the first two fingers enter him at once. The angle of his hips doesn't allow him to see where Eddie's fingers disappear into him, but he watches in rapture as they slide in and out. It's the same heavy feeling as when he watched Eddie swallow his cock and he felt the wet heat engulf him at the same time.

"I never told you this, but this is my favorite part. Don't get me wrong, I love everything we do, baby, even just kissing you makes me feel so happy and alive every time. But I could play with you like this for hours, making you come on my fingers over and over again and never get tired of it."

Eddie does that sometimes, just lets his mouth run wild, saying the dirtiest and sweetest things, often in the same breath. Steve lives for these moments, feels himself clench around the fingers inside him in a mindless search for more sensation, more pleasure. He knew it when they went on their first date, and he never changed his mind: Eddie Munson would be the death of him one day.

"Do you know that the first time I fingered you, I realized that I loved you and that I wanted us to be forever? Don't look at me like that, I know it's not the most romantic thing to say, but it's true," Eddie tells him, kissing the inside of his thigh tenderly before pushing another finger inside him. "It was when I felt your pulse beating against my finger inside you. It felt like your heart was beating only for me, and I never wanted it to beat for anyone else, never wanted to go another day without being allowed to feel its rhythm against my fingers inside of you, or my hand wrapped around your wrist, or my head against your chest. That's when I knew I felt forever about you."

It's strange to watch his own face as he takes in those words, the way his eyes grow even wider, his expression softening. He watches as his hand reaches for Eddie's, the one not three fingers deep inside him, and Eddie takes it, lacing their fingers together.

"I feel forever about you too, you know that, right? Fuck, Eddie, if we weren't already married, I'd ask you again right now."

Eddie pulls their intertwined hands to his mouth and kisses the simple platinum band on Steve's finger. "And I'd say yes and do it all over again, right down to our first song being an Ed Sheeran song, you musical heathen."

He finally tears his eyes away from the mirror to look directly at Eddie so his husband knows he means it when he says, "Then let's do it. Eddie Munson, will you marry me? Again?"

Eddie laughs, the sound bright and full of joy. "Only you would ask me to marry you while I'm three fingers deep in you, Stevie."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes, you crazy, wonderful man. Of course it is." Eddie laughs again, delirious with happiness, his whole body shaking with it. Steve feels it everywhere they touch, especially deep inside him, and it rekindles the hungry flame of desire.

"Then show me you mean it."

Pulling his fingers free, Eddie wipes them on the sheets before placing his hand right next to Steve's head. Then he moves their still joined hands to the other side and leans down to capture Steve's lips in a deep, searching kiss. It's as if he's pouring all his love, all that he's just said to Steve, into the way he kisses him. The new position puts Eddie almost completely on top of Steve and he can feel how hard Eddie is, leaking all over himself and Steve as their cocks slide against each other.

Steve thinks they're going to fuck just like that, Eddie making love to him while holding his gaze, sharing their breath and feeling each other's hearts beating against their chests.

They don't.

Instead, Eddie slides off him and settles down on his back next to Steve. He reaches for the lube again and coats his hard cock with it, obviously trying not to get too carried away with it. Steve wants to replace Eddie's hand with his own, but this is Eddie's show and he'll let him run it.

When Eddie is done, he slides his arm between Steve's back and the bed, his hand curled around Steve's waist, pulling him closer.n"Lie on top of me, Stevie. Your back to my chest so you can watch yourself fall apart on my cock."

Eddie Munson will be the death of him.

Steve does as he's told and gets into position, his back against Eddie's chest and his head resting on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie places his feet on the bed, his bent legs spreading Steve's on either side. They've never done it like this before, and as Eddie slides into him in one smooth motion, Steve wonders why. It's so good, the way Eddie stretches him from that angle, the slight sting of too much soon replaced by white-hot pleasure as he's filled so deeply.

He feels Eddie's hands on his body, one cupping his aching cock, the other gently pressing down on his throat. Steve moans softly, overwhelmed by all these sensations hitting him at once and he doesn't know what to do with himself. The way he's spread out on Eddie's lap, he has no leverage to move his hips, to take more than Eddie is willing to give, and he whines under his breath when Eddie doesn't move.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart."

Steve hadn't even noticed that he had closed them, too lost in his own pleasure. So he does as Eddie tells him and opens his eyes, his gaze finding the reflection in the mirror in an instant.

The sight takes his breath away and the moan that falls from his throat sounds choked.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Steve," Eddie marvels as he finally begins to move, slowly beginning to fuck into him, his eyes drinking in the sight as hungrily as Steve's. "You had to see this to believe me. Every love song is about you, every poem, every love story. The great masters couldn't dream of painting something as breathtaking as you, every marble statue pales in comparison to your beauty."

"Eddie," Steve gasps. He wants to say so much more, but he feels that nothing is as important as that single word.

After that, no more words are needed between them. Instead, Eddie kisses his temple as his hand on Steve's cock begins to pump his shaft at the same languid pace as his hips continue to move. It's the sweetest torture.

Steve's face is contorted with pleasure, his mouth open and panting. His skin is flushed, glistening with a thin layer of sweat that reflects the lamplight in a way that makes his skin look almost golden. The muscles in Eddie's forearm keep flexing, moving under the inked skin as one hand presses against his throat and the other slides up and down his cock.

It almost feels like there are two people fucking him, two people stroking him, two people choking him. The one he feels doing all these things and the one he watches doing them.

It’s overwhelming in it’s intensity, the single hottest thing he’s ever felt.

Eddie's hot breath fans across his face and as much as he tries to take it slow so he can make Steve fall apart first, the gasps and grunts that come from him tell Steve that he won't be able to hold back much longer. Which is good, because Steve doesn't know how much longer he can do this before he loses his goddamn mind.

"I'm so close, baby, fucking me so good. Looking so good. Want you to fill me up." Steve doesn't even recognize his own voice when he adds, "Please."

It's the please that pulls a deep moan out of Eddie, and Steve knows he's playing dirty, because Eddie can never deny him anything when he begs like that. He's only using this power for good though, because Eddie is just as desperate to come as Steve is. He can feel it in the way his hips immediately pick up speed at his words, his hand on Steve matching the new rhythm.

"I can't wait to marry you again," Eddie croaks after a few more thrusts, his voice choked with emotion. Those words and the way Eddie says them, combined with the way he's so full and the hand on him feels so good, is enough to throw Steve over the cliff and he comes in thick spurts all over his own chest.

It seems to go on forever and Steve forces himself to look, to keep his eyes from closing from the pleasure. He's never seen himself come like this before and it's probably a sign of how vain he is, but the sight is so fucking hot. More cum keeps dripping from his cock, helped by Eddie's hand milking him almost dry until it all becomes too much.

Beneath him, Eddie is now chasing his own climax, his hips losing all rhythm as they slam into him as deep as they can. The hand on his cock has let go as soon as Steve's moans of pleasure have become painful from how sensitive the flesh has become, but the one on his throat remains, pressing down harder. He keeps grinding inside Steve, small movements matching the breathy grunts in his ear, until Steve can feel Eddie tense and the warmth of his cum filling him.

Then Eddie sinks into the mattress like a marionette whose strings have been cut. His body is limp and his face contented as he tries to catch his breath. When his legs give out, he stretches them with a groan and it causes him to slide out of Steve, a small trickle of cum dripping out and onto him.

Steve is just as content and exhausted, every muscle in his body relaxed and he's probably getting heavy where his body is trying to sink into Eddie. He looks a mess, his face red, his hair as wild as Eddie's unruly curls and his chest smeared with his own cum.

Steve has never felt more covetable. Never felt more loved, and all thanks to Eddie and his uncanny ability to know exactly what Steve needs even before he himself does.

Squirming on top of Eddie until he manages to get off of him and curl into his body with an arm and a leg thrown over him, Steve nuzzles into Eddie's neck. He gets a lingering kiss on the top of his head for his trouble and they both sigh happily in unison.

After a few more minutes of shared silence and bliss, Steve can't help but ask in a quiet voice, "You meant it, didn't you? About marrying me again?"

He can hear the smile in Eddie's voice as he answers. "Oh baby, I'm actually one step ahead of you. There's a ring in my pocket waiting to be put on your hand if you want it. You just beat me to the proposal, you competitive ass."

He feels like he's glowing with happiness as he laughs in delightful surprise at Eddie's words. "You love my competitive ass so much you're marrying it again."

"That I do. Happy anniversary, Steve."

"Happy anniversary, Eddie."

[ch6douin]

> Wᴀɴᴛ — IDV! SELF AWARE AU (4)

Victor is not my favorite but I wrote for him as if he was...ngl (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

cw: obsessive behavior (?); mentions of feeling/being watched; romantic in someway; light angst; victor is kind of paranoic.; short chapter as always idk why i cant FUCKING WRITE MORE

When he heard you, the experience was nothing short of breathtaking.

...

In a bad way.

Victor thought he was going crazy when that happened, that was his first reaction. He looked around, and there was no one. He looked at Wick...obviously, the dog wasn't the one talking. The voice didn't go away. Instead, it only intensified as he tried to go on with his matches. And then now, some weird feeling would make him move even if he didn't want to. He no longer had control of his body, and that scared him. The stress took control of his being, and he spent nights without sleeping, the idea of someone watching him being unbearable.

So how did he grow to like you? To care for your attention? It's simple: he felt himself warming up to you as he listened to your reactions and tone of voice. Victor was always fond of people's reactions, especially reading the letters he delivered, and it was no surprise that he slowly paid attention to yours too and got less panicked, he felt like he was important to be the one listening to you, and a weird yet inviting warmth filled his body. He enjoyed being the vessel to your entertainment, the doll who would coax out shocked gasps from you as he was supposed to get terror shocked, but somehow was still standing proudly after jumping through a window. He was the man who could make you giggle with his dances. He could be everything and much more if you let him hear more of your genuine answers.

You were the reason for the late-night midnight snacks and lesser hours of sleep. But now, it was because of the countless letters he wrote to you. Letters that he was sure he would not be able to send it out, but he needed to get those fervorous feelings out of his chest some way. Lovely packages with intricate designs piled up inside his drawer, flowers that would slowly wither glued with wax, and sweet words that would never be shown to others.

But now, with letters or not, he can talk to you. He can make you recognize him, and he just maybe, in a distant future, be able to look you in the eyes.

_

This is not working.

You're wary. Why did Naib have to mess up their peaceful approach with his bitter words? Now Victor couldn't do anything but type in a hurry a single 'It's me!' and their titles as he watches in horror the screen glitching and unfortunately going black. His hands go up to his face, hiding an expression twisted with sadness and frustration. Why did it have to be this way? He wanted you more than anything right now, but you wouldn't answer. Maybe you won't ever answer after this horrible experience. He doesn't care like the Mercenary if you may be using all of them, his curiosity is much bigger to care about it.

He storms out of the room, almost running through the long corridors to get the prototype to work again with Luca's maintenance.

priestess next wowwww im excited to see how its gonna turn out bc i don't really know a lot about her 👹...i wrote half of this listening to chamber of reflection from steezy knicks laying down on my bed.

[biscuits-of-bagend]

DnDoc #3 - Tales in the TARDIS

Part #1 Part #2

"I was sort of pessimistic at first? But at the same time determined. It was like, this is hopeless - but also I have to get back to some sort of civilisation or at least somewhere with running water or I will die. I followed the forest trying to figure out if the trees were lined up in any sort of shape, anything that might indicate where I could find a pond. If I could find a pond I could find a stream, a river, a city, if there was one to be found."

   Rogue stopped as Ruby came in with an enormous jug of water. Maybe she'd been outside listening this whole time and knew he really needed it now that he had started this.

   "Stay if you want, Ruby," said Rogue. "It's good to see you too."

   Ruby was no longer dressed like a Regency duchess and instead wore a tartan pattern pinafore over a white t-shirt. She seemed even younger than Rogue remembered and he was glad all over again that his trap hadn't got her killed.

   The Doctor nodded to Ruby and patted the space next to him on his futon. "Come sit,  so far it sounds like it's not going to be a super sexy story."

   "Well," said Rogue.

   "Oh?" The Doctor's eyebrows shot up in what Rogue assumed at first was jealousy but that may actually have been deep intrigue, the Doctor's curiosity perhaps turning a little Chuldur-like.

   "There was a queen who really needed an heir," said Rogue.

   Ruby's eyes bugged out of her head and the Doctor put his hand to his breast and said, "You didn't."

   Rogue grinned and took a drink of water. Then he said, "No, I didn't. But it turns out I am a master match-maker. I am the Emma Woodhouse of my generation."

   "So you did eventually find a civilisation then?" said the Doctor, still shaking his head.

   "Yeah, took a long time, and I sort of turned up on their doorstep just like I did yours," said Rogue. "But they were in the middle of their own problems, away up on this hill above the wasteland. They nearly dispatched me on sight until I could convince them I was not infected with some sort of bacteria they were scared of. I mean, I was scared of it too for a moment there, until their doctor was convinced I was fine. But then they said they'd give me food and water and somewhere to sleep as long as I could complete a quest for them."

   "Aw," said the Doctor, "Just a Rogue all by himself, no tank, no face."

   "Yeah," agreed Rogue. "A face would not have gone amiss. Because what they wanted me to do was go to the one other oasis of green grass and flowering trees in the known world, see if anyone was alive there - which they couldn't tell on their telescopes - and if there was, I was to bring any eligible young males back."

   "That is a lot less romantic than Emma Woodhouse," said Ruby.

   "You're not wrong. There were three eligible young males as it turned out, and they all shared your view. I had to beg one of them and tell him all about how beautiful the queen was and how delicious the fruit away off there at the palace was - I hadn't tasted a bit of it, and wouldn't unless I could get the guy to agree to come back with me. But I'm no slouch on the deception check. So I got this one guy to come with me, eventually, after a truly horrible journey that was like the opposite of a bonding experience and he definitely hates me now."

   Rogue took another breath, wondering how he was coming across. The Doctor and Ruby would understand needs-must kinds of situations, right? He paused for a moment to focus on the burnt orange of the Doctor's jacket, his striped v-neck t-shirt underneath. Once he had his bearings back, he continued.

   "Turned out they were basically long-lost soulmates, or at least, they were willing to see each other that way in the name of speeding things along. But they wouldn't let me go until the baby was born and that took… Oh damn, I forgot to mention. Have you ever heard of Loxodons?"

   "The elephant folk?" said the Doctor.

   "Yeah, all these people were Loxodons. I should have said that at the start." Rogue waved his hand as if to brush away the confusion. He was pleased to note that this caused pain in zero muscles.

   "Wait, but elephants are pregnant for like, almost two years," said Ruby. "I swear on QI Sandi Toksvig said something like twenty-two months! Was it the same for the Loxodon people?"

   Rogue nodded, mouth closed as he watched the Doctor take this in.

   "Yeah," said Rogue. "They wouldn't help me until after the birth in case there was a problem and they needed me to go fetch another male."

   The Doctor took his hand and held it loosely, carefully. "Rogue, that is horrible. I am so sorry you had to go through all this."

   Rogue shook his head, which did cause a slight twinge in his neck but it was fading. He said, "I made my choice. No regrets. We keep moving forward, right?"

   The Doctor relaxed slightly and nodded. "Always on to the next thing."

   "Anyway," said Rogue. "Their library was amazing."

---

Part #4

@off-traveling-in-the-stars @casavanse @monster-donut (let me know at any point if you no longer wish to be tagged in each post)

[plexivie]

for me?

"cmon get your ass up now."

Today you're training with Bakugou. And surprisingly, he is a great sparring partner. He always pushes you to do better and makes sure you are not slacking off.

He is pretty cute too. You've always had a tiny deniable crush on him. He's almost perfect. His hair, his eyes, his strength. It's amazing. But you knew he would never like you. You were... average. You weren't as pretty as some of the other girls, not as strong. But, over the years, you kind have gotten used to it. Others being better than you doesn't affect you anymore. That's why training with Bakugou isn't bad at all.

"c'mon idiot. I don't have time for you being lazy as hell."

You did as he said and got up into a fighting stance. Your quirk wasn't the strongest, but hey, you got into UA.

You two were practicing behind the UA dorms. It was a quiet, empty place back there.

You guys were fighting, hard. He was blowing explosions every chance he got. It was all going well until you fell... 30 feet to the ground.

You've never screamed so loud in your life. Before you could reach the ground, you passed out.

"shit"

Bakugou ran to catch you. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let you get hurt like that. Luckily, he caught you, but when he saw you were passed out, he was scared.

"tsk idiot."

He carried you to Recovery Girls office, just to fix any injuries that may have happened. He waited forever for you to wake up. The quirk made you sleep for too damn long. But once he saw your eyes fluttering the tiniest bit, he was there waiting for you.

You groaned. You had the WORST headache. You felt like everything was spinning, until you saw him. He made everything feel more, calm.

"shit are you okay?"

You never expected him to want to know if you were okay.

"yea I think so."

He let out a breath of relief.

"good, I wouldn't know what I would have done with myself if I let you get hurt."

He looked away.

"thanks"

You were so happy how sweet he was being. You've never seen him like this before with.... anyone.

"be... safer next time, got it?"

You nodded.

"why do you care about my safety so much anyways?"

You were expecting a snarky answer but no, you got

"because I like you idiot."

You were never so surprised in your life. Me? Why would he like me? I'm nothing special.

"me? why?"

He looked annoyed by this.

"what do you mean why. there's nothing not to like about you. I like how you give me a challenge. especially when training. that shit... makes me happy or whatever."

He blushed a bit, and so did you.

"you really think that about me?"

He just nods. Maybe out of embarrassment.

"yea idiot"

You smile and look away. I don't know what made you say this but

"I like you too. like a lot. I just didn't think you ever like me back."

He scoffed.

"I don't know why but whatever. anyway, let's go. I've been sitting in this shitty office for hours waiting for your ass to wake up, so c'mon."

You got up a little dizzy, but you could manage.

"let me... hold your hand or whatever. I don't want you to hurt yourself again."

You've never smiled more in your life. His hands were so warm and comforting.

You guys had already started walking back. While you guys were walking you could tell he had something to say.

"hey, you look like you have something on your mind."

He just looks away.

"Yea I guess."

"well, what is it?"

He just stops walking and turns to you. He doesn't say anything to you at all he just... kisses you. The walk back was silent until you reached your dorm door.

"hey I was wondering if you would want to come hike with me tomorrow or whatever."

You nodded happily smiling.

"great."

He then started walking away again until he stopped and turned around to face you.

"stay safe for me ok?"

You smiled happy as ever.

This was a fun write. Let me know if any of you want more! (pls repost for me <3)