#but the panic I feel when people don’t agree or word something harshly???? that has manifested physically in me for my entire freaking life
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the answer to the question of why I am this way is very often anxiety
#I know it’s not my personality etc. etc. but truly never been able to so clearly see how much anxiety I have#until this year!#my very matter of fact counselor: your base line level of anxiety is very high#me: surprised pikachu face#anyway it’s kind of helpful to just see how it has exacerbated so many things over the years that I used to just think …. Was me#and like. It IS. But it’s also a bent/slant/wiring to my make-up that is separate from me#so it just makes sense. like yes I am sensitive and I hate when people say mean things about things I love#but the panic I feel when people don’t agree or word something harshly???? that has manifested physically in me for my entire freaking life#that’s not because of how deep my attachment to it is or some weird psychological reason bound up in the wording of the hurtful phrase#or in the thing I loved itself#Like I used to think it was#It’s just …. anxiety#i don’t have to intellectualize all of it. some things are just triggers and it sets things in motion#it’s hard to know what the triggers are and it’s also funny to reflect on what can be#because I am a very specific fiercely attached funny little bean with a very definite history that has shaped me#but just trying to plumb the depths of every situation that has ever hurt me to try to find some deep truth about why I’m hurt#And what reality I’ve touched on that is causing me pain#It just isn’t what’s happening. It’s pretty simple#I honestly had this breakthrough once about Taylor and why taylor criticism made me anxious#Like I just always externalized all of it in that i would be like it hurts me because of the way taylor is or something#but there was this one moment where it was like it’s upsetting you because of you#But then I put it away and went back to analyzing the world and her externally lol#Anyway it’s going to be a journey! But it does feel pretty big that I’ve been able to reach it here#Also it’s so weird because it’s like shouldn’t I have known earlier? Shouldn’t other people have known earlier? And many DID#but also. I don’t always display it well#I make eye contact! I smile! I speak confidently!!!#And actually a lot of people are like ‘she’s fine she can handle this’ and it’s like I can’t I will DIE#I was talking to Maria the other day about this and she pointed it out to me.#I don’t look vulnerable and I don’t look like you can hurt my feelings by being like ‘I don’t really care for Kylo Ren’#But you CAN and yes that’s the deep love but it’s also the anxiety! I think it’ll just be learning to balance those things in me. Not erase
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Save Yourself - Ch. 19
Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Oh For One So Pure
Series Summary: “I promise.” Those two words would trap you in a life you never wanted. You are an artist, a hunter, a Winchester. And yet the pain in Dean’s eyes as demanded you live the life he wants you live, you couldn’t say no. You met the Winchesters by chance, found out they were real people. And you figured it was a once in a life time thing, but then Dean called you, and so did a new job. Both leading to the life you wanted, a family that didn’t begin or end in blood and a once in a life time love. And he said leave it and him behind, forget. But you can’t. Chapter Summary Jack is gone. Well, you know exactly where he is; with Mary in what you’ve all agreed is the Apocalypse world. Do any of you know how to get there? No. But what are Winchesters really good at? Distracting themselves with hunting. When Donna calls in a favor for hunting down a possible not-so-supernatural creep, the three of you practically leap through the phone. But this case, and the multiverse problem none of you know how to untangle, bring up some dormant feelings about what it means to be a hunter… and even more about what it means to be a Winchester.
Warnings: Cannon typical violence, some fluff, some sad feels
You’ve been a Winchester long enough to have seen some crazy shit. And you’ve been a Supernatural fan long enough to know all the crazy shit. And when Donna called in a favor to find her niece, you kinda hoped it would be the most black and white monster case you could find. And as expected it was not. Finding a black market ebay for body parts wasn’t something you thought could exist. But if there’s a market, someone will always be there to fill it.
“I can’t believe you’ve been through this.” You grimace as Doug’s temporary fangs disappear.
“At least everyone here has souls.” Dean looks over at Sam, who purses his lips together as if he wishes he could forget that whole incident. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you quickly silence it.
“That’s the fourth time it’s rung.” Dean comments, raising a brow at you.
“Becky. I missed the last two meetings.” You confess. You were normally pretty good about warning her when you’d be busy with a hunt; but everything with Jack being so unpredictable…
“Call her back, we should be back at the bunker tomorrow.” Dean gives your hand a squeeze. You nod and walk out into the brisk night air.
“Hey, sorry about the last couple of weeks-”
“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” She shouts into the phone. “I thought the worst when your phone kept going to voicemail.” She lets out a long sigh, taking a few deep breaths.
“I could see that.” You chuckle.
“Don’t give me a heart attack like that!”
“I���ll do better in the future.” You hold up your hand in surrender. “But what’s up?”
“I have a few design projects I thought you could brainstorm on… And Sera’s been asking about the possibility of continuing the Supernatural books?” Her voice goes an octave higher at the mention of the books.
“Send me the ideas for the stuff to design-”
“Doug, wait!” You hear Donna yell.
“I’ll get back to you about the books-” You reach for the door to go back inside when it swings open and Doug runs into you.
“Doug?” You frown as he gathers himself. “Becky, I gotta go.” You abruptly hang up, lightly grabbing Doug’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s the rush?”
He stops, looking at you over his shoulder.
“Why do you stay?” He whispers, the defeat clear in his voice.
“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave Donna high and dry-“
“Why do you stay with Dean? Knowing about the– the monsters?” He corrects. The panic rolls off of him like a fog, tendrils curling and whispering for you to get lost in it.
“What do ya mean?”
“Your husband fights vampires, werewolves… monsters! Things that aren’t supposed to exist! How can you stay?” He harshly whispers, as if saying it too loud makes it any more true. You stare blankly at him; sure you’ve seen plenty of people shaken after their first encounter with the supernatural; but Doug? He’s had to have seen gruesome stuff in his time on the force.
“It’s his job,” you frown, “It would be the same if he were in the military or law enforcement.” You watch as he recedes into his whatever panic storm is happening in his mind. “Are you ok? Did you talk with Donna?” You place a hand on his shoulder, his whole body deflating at your touch.
“I wanted to be a cop to help folks. I didn’t sign on for monsters.” He looks off into the distance, the recent horrors he just witnessed clearly dancing in front of his eyes.
“That’s all Dean and Sam do, save people.” You smile, leaning forward until you catch his gaze. “They unfortunately didn’t have a no monster option. It’s also why Dean gets three hours of sleep a week, can drink a liquor store dry and has enough trauma that any regular person would go insane.”
“And you’re ok with that?” He scoffs, shaking his head at all the terrifying possibilities about what your words mean.
“I didn’t marry him because I think I can fix him. I love him, as he is.” You shrug, watching the thoughts churn in his head as he tries to figure out the next move. “You’re really going to give up Donna because she fights monsters?” You haven’t spent nearly as much time with Donna as you like, but the one thing you know for sure if you both will hang onto your husbands no matter the price.
“I don’t think I’m strong enough.” He whispers. You sigh, pulling him into a hug.
“She thinks you are. And so do I.” You squeeze him tight. “Can I tell you something?” You ask as you let him go. He gives you a small nod, wiping a tear away. “Leaving Donna won’t make the fear go away. It won’t stop you from looking at every person differently. It won’t change the fact that you know what lurks in the dark. But trust me when I say that having her by your side is better than any future without her.” He studies you for a moment, brain calculating all the scenarios.
“Does Dean feel that about you?” He whispers.
The question punches you right in the gut. It should have been a simple answer. A yes of course he does, that’s why we're married. But your mouth feels like it’s full of sand. Every moment where Dean has pushed you away, told you to leave, to forget, comes rushing to the forefront. And here you stand. Telling Doug he should stay; that he should want to stay. But you have no evidence that it would be good for him; that he could continue on with his life as normal. The one thing you learned being with Dean is that you were involved with the family business whether you wanted it or not. It’s just how it went being close to a hunter.
The motel door creaks open, Sam and Donna making their way to the car.
“Ready sweetheart?” Dean asks, taking your hand.
“Ya.” You smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze as you turn back to Doug. “Talk with Donna, she deserves that. You both deserve to make a decision together.” You give Doug a small smile, letting Dean guide you to the car.
_______
One thing nice about driving with the boys is you could boot Sammy to the front and sprawl out in the back. Dean even keeps a little blanket in the trunk for you. Leather seats are three things: cold, hot or sticky. Can’t have baby makin you uncomfortable sweetheart. You smile at the memory as you stare at the back of Dean’s head. The rain gently thumps at the windows, Sammy’s fingers clacking against the keys of his laptop.
“You were a little tough on Donna back there.” Dean states, keeping his voice low to not disturb you.
“What?” Sam frowns, the clacking coming to an abrupt stop.
“Just sayin’.” Dean shrugs, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he told Donna to let Doug go; Sam, telling her to let the love of her life go.
“Was I wrong? I mean, when has knowing us ever worked out for anyone?” His eyes flick to you as you roll to face the back of the seat.
“(Y/N)?” Dean shrugs.
“What?”
“It’s worked out for (Y/N), according to her.” Dean clarifies.
“Oh ya, I bet she always dreamed of falling in love with a guy who constantly tells her she can’t be a hunter because she could die. And who constantly makes life altering decisions for her.” Sam deadpans.
“We save people, Sam.” He points out. Save tons of people, every day, every year. That has to count for something.
“Yeah, we also get people killed, Dean. Kaia, for instance. She helped us and she died for it. And the list of (Y/N) getting hurt or almost dead isn’t exactly short.”
“Hey, look, I know you’re in some sort of a—”
“No, no, no, don’t – don’t… You keep saying I’m in a dark place, but I’m not, Dean. Everything I’m saying is the truth. It’s our lives. And I tried to pretend it didn’t have to be. I tried to pretend (Y/N) would be safe, that we could have Mom back and Cas and – and help Jack. But we can’t. This ends one way for us, Dean. It ends bloody.”
The three of you sit in silence. Dean always told you he would go down fighting; it always seemed to be the hand he was dealt. He just never actually died, so you both had agreed that maybe that’s not the true end designed for him. But Sam giving up on the happily ever after? That was just as bad as you giving up…
“You’re the reason she holds on so tight.” He whispers, seeing Sam turn toward him out of the corner of his eye. “You told her to always keep fighting; to fight for the life she wants, to fight for me. I was prepared to let her go years ago. Prepared for my soul to ache for the rest of my life.” He accuses. “But you’re the one who said to not give her up. To fight for her. Why –”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have.” Sam interrupts. You shift in your seat, moving your blanket to muffle the sound of your heart breaking.
_______
One would think spending their whole life fighting everything that lurks in the dark would make it uncomfortable. But as Sam lays in the pitch black of his room, he feels calm. He’s embraced the fact that he lives in the dark, like some creature waiting for whatever fight is next. No searching for something to hold on to, for hope about the future.
God was no better than any other supernatural being, Mom and Jack are as good as dead… After tossing and turning he gets up, easily making his way down the hall in the dark. He stops at your studio door and listens; he can hear the faint clicking of your keyboard accompanied by a faint static noise he can only assume is music. He gently pushes the door, you’re bopping your head along to whatever’s coming through your headphones as you mess with a project on your computer.
He lets his eyes wander around the room; it’s filled with fabric, blank canvases, half painted paintings, partially done costumes and a large wall of books. This room is very much you; warm, inviting and filled with things that make you happy. It was often a safe space for him, both when you were in it and when you weren’t. You both had many late night conversations about anything that came to mind, talked through a lot of the darkness he carried with him.
“Geezus Sammy!” You jump out of your chair, nearly knocking over your water bottle. “Scared the tarts out of me!” You move it out of arms reach and slide off your headphones.
“Right, sorry.” He frowns. You tilt your head to the side, walking over to him and gently taking his hands in yours.
“You ok?” you ask. He gives you a curt nod, eyes looking anywhere but at you.
“Whatever happened to that painting, the one with the two hands holding onto each other?”
“It’s here, haven’t got around to hanging it up.” You pull it out from a stack that’s leaned against the wall, putting it up on your easel and sliding the fabric sheet off to reveal it.
“Always keep fighting.” Sam mumbles, his fingers gently tracing the words. It’s written dozens of times in the background, your perfect sloppy writing making it feel like you’re telling him to do just that.
“Sammy!” You yell over your shoulder in the general direction of his room.
“Ya?” He yells back.
“Come here!”
He pads down the hall, standing in your doorway.
“Need you to hand model with me.” You wave him over. You take one hand, having him wrap his fingers around your wrist while you do the same. “Now pull.”
He pulls, a little too hard, and you ram into his chest.
“Not that hard Sammy!” you giggle.
“Ok, ok… not that hard. Got it.”
He huffs in amusement at the memory. It seemed silly at the time but it’s moving to see your hand holding him up, keeping him from slipping away.
“Why is one side written upside down?”
“Because love flows both ways.” You rotate the picture so now his hand is holding yours. You slot your hand into his, leaning your head on his arm as the two of you study it.
“What if holding on was the mistake?” He asks.
“It wasn’t.” You can feel him shift against you. “I didn’t walk into this life blind Sam.” You bite down on your tongue, praying the tears not to slip down your face. “I-”
He pulls you into his arms, squeezing you tight. He has always pulled you closer; pulled you into the hunting life, into his brother’s life, into his own life. Selfish. It was the only word that came to his mind. He always thought that karma would follow through. That every single monster he and Dean put in the ground would let them have just a sliver of something good. And he was hoping it would be you. But maybe Dean was right this whole time, you’ll only end up hurt or dead.
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A Safe Place (part 3) [day 18]
A feverish Cliff is seen in the emergency room. For @monthofsick Day 18 “Unfamiliar surroundings”. 2,965 words, original work, TWs emeto, hospital content.
Part 1 | Part 2 - I swear this was supposed to be 2 parts but now it’s gonna be 4? Lol whoops.
Elliot supported Cliff into the busy ER. It was a Saturday, of course there were a lot of people there, Elliot thought regretfully. Silly to hope otherwise. Elliot eased Cliff into a seat as close to the reception desk as possible and then checked Cliff in, presenting Cliff’s ID and health insurance card. He was grateful Cliff’s wallet and phone were the two things his boyfriend had actually brought with him when he left his parents’ house, although a jacket and his inhaler would have been useful third and fourth choices.
“What’s this visit for?” The receptionist asked after scanning the cards and handing them back to Elliot.
“My boyfriend is having trouble breathing,” Elliot said, hoping this concerned her as much as it concerned him. “He has asthma, he’s wheezing, and he has a high fever. He didn’t know who I was earlier.”
The receptionist stood up a little to catch a glimpse of Cliff in his seat, who did look like he was struggling. “Okay, we’ll get him triaged as soon as possible,” the receptionist said. Elliot chose to believe her for his own sanity’s sake. “In the meantime, have him wear a mask.”
Cliff sagged against Elliot when Elliot sat next to him. He was in no shape to do paperwork, so Elliot tried to fill it out as much as he could. Fifteen minutes passed. Cliff was whimpering in pain and his wheeze had grown louder. “Just a few more minutes, Cliffy,” Elliot said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. Thirty minutes passed. Cliff was now insisting he was fine after all, and that they ought to go home. But that was when he was lucid, which would last only a minute before he’d follow up by saying something that made very little sense and reminded Elliot exactly why they couldn’t leave. Finally, about forty minutes after they’d checked in, a nurse called Cliff’s name and brought them to a small room between the waiting room and the actual ER. Elliot repeated the story he’d given the receptionist although more aggressively this time as the nurse nodded and took Cliff’s vitals.
Elliot never wanted Cliff to be so sick. However, his vitals did prompt some action and for that Elliot was grateful. Cliff’s fever was 103.5 now, his oxygen running lower than expected at 92%, and his heart rate and blood pressure were both high. The nurse led them to a stretcher in a curtained off bay and told Cliff to change into a gown. Elliot had to help Cliff climb up, his boyfriend’s coordination poor. His hands were shaking too hard to button his own gown up, so Elliot did it for him.
“Don’t feel good,” Cliff mumbled, swaying even as he sat up on the stretcher.
“I know, just lie back,” Elliot said. “They’re gonna help you.”
Thankfully, this time they only waited about ten minutes before a new nurse came in with a small bucket full of supplies. She introduced herself as Anna and said she was going to insert an IV, take some blood, and hook Cliff up to oxygen and fluids. She was also going to swab Cliff for flu and strep, but Elliot explained the urgent care had already done that. “Well, this tests for some other stuff too, it’s a full respiratory panel. I’d recommend we just do it anyways.” Elliot agreed on Cliff’s behalf; Cliff seemed to be communicating only in nods at this point.
Nurse Anna looped some oxygen tubing over Cliff’s ears first and plugged it into the wall. She also attached a blood pressure cuff and oxygen probe that she said would stay on for now for monitoring. Elliot felt like all the devices only made Cliff look sicker. Anna swabbed Cliff’s nose, which made him cough harshly to the point of gagging, and then got ready to insert an IV.
Cliff looked to Elliot in panic, swallowing rapidly. ‘Faint,’ he mouthed to Elliot helplessly. “Um, I think he passes out when there’s needles,” Elliot spoke up for him. Cliff nodded gratefully.
“Well you’re in the right place if you do,” Nurse Anna said. She lowered the head of the stretcher and told Elliot to hold Cliff’s hand as she looked for a vein in his other arm. “I’ll go super quick,” she reassured them, and she was right. It was quick. But Cliff turned sheet white and got really sweaty and by the time she’d collected enough tubes of blood, flushed and secured the hub and hooked him up to a bag of fluids, Cliff was barely conscious. “Don’t worry, it happens,” she said. She put a pillow under Cliff’s legs and told him to breathe deeply through his nose. Elliot found her calm demeanor the only thing keeping him calm, because it seemed terrifying even if it was normal. Cliff followed her directions and eventually gained some color back. Anna said his blood pressure was coming back up and that he should just lie there with his feet up for a few more minutes, then left the room.
“I’m sorry,” Cliff apologized miserably for the tenth time since they’d come back here.
“Baby, please, stop apologizing,” Elliot told him. “You’re here because you have to be and you’re not doing anything bad or wrong. Just rest.”
Cliff’s eyes filled with tears and he covered them with his forearm. “I suck,” he whimpered, Elliot’s words clearly not having reached him as intended. Elliot sighed and put one hand on Cliff’s head to stroke his sweaty hair. It wasn’t worth fighting Cliff on this right now. Elliot just had to be there for him.
Cliff fell asleep to Elliot’s relief. Elliot texted his mom what was going on and hoped this wasn’t as bad as it felt. Cliff snored quietly until a woman came with a huge portable x-ray machine. “Sorry to wake you up,” she said, “Cliff? I’m here to get your x-ray. I’ll go fast.”
Cliff opened his eyes and stared blankly at her. Elliot wasn’t sure if Cliff knew what was going on at this point so he stroked Cliff’s arms and explained, “Cliff? She’s gonna take the pictures of your lungs now.” He helped the x-ray tech manipulate Cliff’s torso so that he was lying on a hard board. Elliot stood in the doorway while they did the films.
“Alright, take a nice deep breath for me and hold it,” the x-ray tech said. “I know, good job, got it. You can cough.” And cough Cliff did, that same desperate wet cough that had made Elliot’s mind up to bring him here. He managed to catch his breath, but it wasn’t over. “One more,” the tech said, moving the boards and machine around to point at Cliff’s side now. “Again. Deep breath. One, two, and good. Let it out.”
This time Cliff didn’t seem able to stop coughing. He coughed until each gasp sounded like a Herculean struggle and Elliot wasn’t sure that any of that air he was gulping in was actually reaching his lungs. The machine that was measuring Cliff’s oxygen levels started to beep and the tech told Elliot she was going to find the nurse. Elliot held on to Cliff and tried to soothe him, but it didn’t seem to work. Cliff just kept coughing until suddenly his eyes flew open and he spewed a sharp wave of vomit from his mouth all the way to the end of the stretcher. Elliot winced, pulling back and trying not to look at the mess. Cliff spluttered and coughed between additional harsh gags that produced little besides a stream of thick brown saliva that pooled in his lap. Elliot prayed the nurse would come in soon and hesitantly rubbed Cliff’s back. He didn’t know what to do and Cliff seemed frozen, unable to lift his head or close his mouth.
Thankfully the nurse showed up then and said, “Oh no!” Oh no was right, Elliot thought anxiously. “Did we just get coughing too hard?” She glanced at Cliff's oxygen levels and turned a small green dial on the wall, which made a quiet hissing noise for a second as the flow of oxygen increased. “Don’t worry hun, we’re going to get you cleaned up.” She found a change of sheets in one of the cupboards behind the stretcher and changed the blankets and top sheet in record time. She checked Cliff’s fluids which were nearly done and then charted standing in the room for a few minutes on her rolling computer.
Cliff was silent, hunched over holding a pink plastic basin in his lap in case of another incident, and Elliot couldn’t tell if he was just out of it or humiliated. The room still smelled of putrid stomach acid; Elliot breathed through his mouth. His phone dinged in his pocket and he saw an alarmed text from his mother. He didn’t have time to reply though, as the doctor walked in at that moment.
“Doctor Jim,” Anna greeted him politely, scooting her computer farther away from the bedside. “He just threw up coughing and I turned up his oxygen.”
“I’m not surprised,” Dr. Jim said. He looked to be in about his forties, was mostly bald and had tiny round glasses that looked too small for his face. “Cliff? I’m Jim, I’m a physician here. How are you doing today?”
Elliot thought that was a stupid question. Cliff looked at Dr. Jim with hazy eyes and mumbled, “Sick.”
“Well, that makes sense. You’ve got yourself a nasty case of double pneumonia,” Dr. Jim said. Elliot’s heart sank. “Has this ever happened to you before?”
Cliff shook his head no. He moved his hand to the edge of the bed that Elliot understood as a silent signal to hold it, which he did. “Well, I think it’s best if we admit you for observation overnight with the vitals you have. I’m going to order two IV antibiotics and some steroids, try and get that swelling down in your lungs and hopefully you’ll be feeling better in no time. How’s that sound?”
Cliff didn’t answer. “That sounds fine,” Elliot said, squeezing Cliff’s hand. “Can I stay with him?”
“Once we move him to the floor, visiting hours are eight to eight,” Dr. Jim said. “But you can stay with him for as long as he’s in the ER.” He turned to Anna and gave a few other orders for Zofran, Tylenol, albuterol and budesonide treatments. It all seemed so casual to them, but Elliot was still disturbed by how sick Cliff looked and seemed to him.
Dr. Jim physically examined Cliff next. Cliff shuddered and Dr. Jim apologized for his cold hands, but Elliot knew that the temperature hadn’t had anything to do with it. He hummed a lot, wrote down some notes, and then left with a “Hope you feel better soon.” Elliot wondered if he told all his patients that, or just the ones who could actually get better soon. Nurse Anna also excused herself to get the ordered medications, leaving Elliot alone with Cliff once again.
“So… pneumonia. That sounds pretty bad,” Elliot said. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt so sick?”
“You were at work. I didn’t want to bother you,” Cliff said in a tiny voice. “And then I tried to text you but none of the letters in my phone made sense.”
Elliot felt his chest clench painfully hearing that. “Cliff, you wouldn’t have bothered me.”
“But I’m bothering you now,” Cliff whimpered.
Elliot frowned. “I didn’t say that.” Silence from Cliff. Elliot sighed and grasped Cliff’s hand in his own. “Cliff, Cliffy, can you look at me?” It took a second, but fever-bright, hazel eyes eventually focused on Elliot. “You’re my boyfriend. I want you to be okay. Can you at least try to trust me?”
“I do trust you,” Cliff whispered, voice hurt.
“Then let me care about you.”
Cliff fell quiet again and Elliot sat back but kept Cliff’s hand in his. Cliff had his eyes closed, but it didn’t do much to hide the tears that escaped from the corners of them. Elliot didn’t say anything, just brushed them off of Cliff’s cheeks with his sleeve. Once Cliff was asleep, Elliot finally allowed his own silent tears to fall.
Eventually a CNA came to bring Cliff down to the short-stay unit. She rolled Cliff’s stretcher down the hall and into an elevator. Cliff looked nervous and kept glancing at Elliot, making sure he was still right next to him. Elliot always was. They got to a small room that had a real hospital bed in it and the CNA and Elliot both helped Cliff take two steps from the stretcher onto the bed. It was painful for Elliot to see how difficult even this brief transfer was for Cliff, and Cliff started another one of his long coughing spasms afterwards. Elliot rubbed Cliff’s arm, unsure what else he could possibly do to help. “Water,” Cliff croaked hoarsely between deep, rattling coughs.
“Sure. Um…” Elliot looked around him but this room was barely more than an ER bay. It didn’t even have windows. “Let me go check,” he said, and went to go look for the nurse’s station. There were two tired and rather bored looking, middle aged women sitting at computers at the end of the hall. “Excuse me? My boyfriend just got here and he could use some water…”
“I’m almost there,” one of the nurses said, which Elliot thought was a weird thing to say when she very much wasn’t almost there. Regardless, they didn’t seem to like him hovering very much so Elliot went back to Cliff’s room. There was nowhere for him to sit, so he stood at the bedside. Cliff had managed to stop coughing at least.
The nurse, despite her indifferent demeanor, did show up with a little bin that contained hospital socks, meds and a large plastic jug of water. “Clifford Barrows, hmm? I’m Carey. And you are…?” She raised an eyebrow at Elliot.
Suddenly feeling extra protective, Elliot quickly said, “His boyfriend.”
“Alright. Mr. Barrows, are you okay to have Elliot in here?”
Cliff nodded a yes. Elliot thought it was so weird to hear Cliff called by his last name. They seemed too young for that.
“Well, your boyfriend will have to leave after I finish this admission paperwork as visiting hours are over soon, but remind me to get you a chair for tomorrow,” Carey said. She started a myriad of questions, which included Cliff’s emergency contact.
“Make it Elliot,” Cliff said quickly, looking at him. “Um, will my dad know I’m here?”
“You’re eighteen, right? Not unless you tell him,” Carey said. “But I see your dad is the primary insurance holder so he may see the invoice after you’re discharged. It shouldn’t show any details though.”
Cliff grimaced but nodded. At least there would be no confrontation in the actual hospital, Elliot thought to himself. Carey kept asking questions, which ranged from did Cliff smoke to could he walk up a flight of stairs to did he have any plans to hurt himself right now. They seemed a little ridiculous to Elliot, but Cliff was able to answer all of them with simple yes’s and no’s pretty quickly since he was for the most part entirely healthy.
“You’re easy,” Carey said, winking at Cliff. “Boyfriend? Visiting hours are over now honey, so you say your goodbyes and you can come back at 8am tomorrow morning.” Elliot thought she was kind of like those old ladies at diners who yelled at you for your order but called you honey so you couldn’t feel totally attacked.
He nodded and gave Cliff a quick hug. He thought about kissing him, but Cliff didn’t like to be kissed in front of other people so he just squeezed Cliff’s hand instead. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he promised. “Get some rest and tell them if you don’t feel good, okay?”
“Okay,” Cliff said. He looked scared, so Elliot hugged him again and kissed the top of his head this time.
“I love you,” Elliot said. “I know you can be strong for me. You’ve got your phone right here.”
Elliot didn’t look back as he left, because he could feel Cliff’s kicked puppy expression trailing him and knew if he did, it would be ten times harder to leave. He walked to the parking lot without thinking, got in his car, and drove home without Cliff beside him. He made it to the park a block away from his parents’ house before he pulled over and cried for a solid ten minutes.
Cliff was going to be okay, Elliot told himself. Cliff was stronger than he seemed, and realistically Elliot couldn’t be there for him every second of the way. But he’d promised Cliff they weren’t going to the hospital, and then he promised Cliff that he’d be right there next to him the whole time. He’d broken both of these promises and now Cliff was sleeping in a hospital bed, in a tiny room with no windows and only a crotchety old lady to keep an eye on him. Elliot felt just terrible and wondered if he’d made the wrong choice dragging Cliff to the ER. All he wanted was for Cliff to be okay, though, and he really hadn’t seemed okay today.
Elliot wiped his tears away and told himself he had to be strong. This seemed so intense and adult, but Elliot couldn’t let it overwhelm him. He tried to remember the coping mechanisms his therapist had taught him back in high school. Deep breaths. One second at a time. He could do it, and so could Cliff. Elliot turned on the car and returned home by himself.
[Part 4]
#shionwrites#sickfic#illness whump#fever whump#oc: cliff#oc: elliot#whump#sicknario#sick whump#male whump#angst#hurt/comfort#novemetober rescheduled#prompt: unfamiliar surroundings#vomitting#emeto#tw: emeto#oc sickfic#pneumonia fic#flu whump
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Comfy
Karl Heisenberg x reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: injury, cussing
Author’s Note: I hope you like this babes! Karl my beloved omg, slight re8 spoilers
Requested: by anon, Ooooo requests? Maybe? Idk it says open so I shall ✨request✨. M’kay, so I’m thinking that Karl has a gf that likes soft things (blankets, sweaters, pillows, pjs, that kind of stuff) and small enclosed spaces, so Karl makes a small-ish room for her to put all of her stuff in and cuddle up to for when she’s cold/wants to relax. Like she has a switch and a tv and wifi- it’s like a soft man cave but for her and Karl. Anyway, Ethan is looking for baby and comes across her room and tries to hide in it, not knowing she’s IN there and asleep. He gets in there, notices the blankets and pillows and accidentally steps on her ankle, which HURT and makes her scream. Karl hears said scream and comes barrelling over in protective bf mode to beat Ethan up. It’s up to you whether gf goes “oi don’t be mean he’s looking for his baby” or not
Summary: the request
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
“I just think that it couldn’t be that hard for you to make a small place, hidden away.” Your voice didn’t carry far in the small room but it didn’t have to. You had a blanket over you as you sat up at the edge of the bed. Karl was walking back and forth around the room as he grabbed things to start his day. “You’re very good with your hands,” you said pleasantly. He pointed at you.
“You’re right about that.”
“Come on Karl. Just a small place. You can use it too if you want to run away for a minute.” He stopped in front of you, the first time he had stopped in a couple of minutes. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, caressing your cheek. He took a deep breath.
“I will see what I can do.” You grabbed his hand and slid it to your lips, kissing his palm.
“You’re the best.”
“I know.” He paused. “Say it again.”
“You’re the best Karl.” He leaned down and gave you a kiss before backing away to the door.
“You better believe it.”
===
You didn’t bring up your small place for a couple of days, just in case he really didn’t want to do it. You just figured that you could have a small room in the factory that no one but the two of you knew existed so you could finally have some privacy. You could fill it with soft things, blankets, pillows, all of that. And entertainment as well of course.
But he didn’t bring it up and you didn’t want to push it. He had a lot to do during his days and you didn’t want to add more stress.
You were sitting behind him, arms around his waist as he massaged your hands gingerly. You had your cheek pressed flat against his back as you both breathed, telling each other about your days.
“I made it.”
“Huh?”
“I made the room.” You backed up, pulling away from him. He had to turn because he wanted to know what your expression was. He was very pleased to find an overjoyed look.
“You aren’t messing with me are you?”
“No. Maybe. No, I’m not. I finished it earlier today, do you want to see it?” He had a goofy look on his face, like you wouldn’t want to see it.
“I would love to see it!”
He grabbed your arm and dragged you out of bed. You were allowed to walk around the factory but it still left you dizzy after walking around too long. Karl had given you a map and you had been around enough to know where you were going but there was still so much going on.
Fortunately Karl didn’t walk far as he led you down a hallway with a dead end.
“Not too far from the room so you won’t get lost,” he said condescendingly. You shoved him but he just smiled his little sarcastic smile at you. He kicked at the wall and a door opened just a little bit. You watched as he moved the very small door open to reveal a small cubby hole of a room. It was tall enough to fit the both of you which was preferred so you could both get in and out. There were blankets inside, along with things to entertain yourself.
You clapped your hands and fell onto the comfy ground, landing on a stuffed animal, pillow and blanket. You grabbed his hand.
“Come here, lay with me.”
“Maybe later kitten, I gotta get back to work,” he told you, leaning against the door frame.
“Well at least shut the door. We don’t want our little secret getting out or else Mother Miranda will find us here as well.” He rolled his eyes and stepped inside, careful not to smush anything with his work boots. You grinned as the door shut behind him. “Five minutes,” you whispered.
He let out an annoyed sigh despite not being annoyed in the slightest.
“Five minutes.”
You pulled him down to lay with you and started to explore the small place that he had built for you.
=====
All Ethan Winters knew at this point was running away from danger. He was always exhausted when the adrenaline wore out and he was sick and tired of having to find hiding spots.
That being said, he was currently looking for a hiding spot to guard him away from the horrors of this factory.
Breath heaving, he stopped running as he came to a hallway with a dead end. He turned around, hearing the horrific sounds of something or someone gaining on him. He put his back against the wall and then fell through it, surprised to land on a pleasant cloud of pillows and blankets. Realizing that this was a room he quickly shut the door with his foot so that no one would be able to find him in here.
He held his gun in his hand and put his back against the wall, looking around feverishly. The rooms were tall but the width was very very small, just enough space for maybe two people if they were really close to each other. Blankets covered the ground, making lumps and lumps of comfort.
Ethans eyes narrowed in confusion. Had he made it outside of the factory? This definitely didn’t look like Heisenbergs doing.
You opened your eyes slowly at someone landing on your feet. Naturally you figured it was Karl so you didn’t even raise your head much as you waited for him to search the blankets to find you. As you woke up from your sleep you heard the unfamiliar breathing of someone you did not recognize.
Your eyes snapped open and your heart started to beat quickly. You stayed still but the person stood up, standing very harshly on your ankle which must have twisted it or something but it hurt like a motherfucker. You yelped and sat up, eyes narrowing in on Ethan Winters, who you recognized from some pictures. He held the gun up to you but didn’t shoot, thank God.
“Hey hey hey!” you yelled, hands up. “I’m unarmed.” He looked terribly confused and didn’t lower his gun at all. You yanked your leg back to you and moved the blankets aside to see that your ankle was twisted in some kind of way. You couldn’t even tell what he had done but his boots were heavy and so was his step.
“Who are you?” he asked, breath not slowing down to an even pace.
“Y/N. You’re Ethan yeah? You stepped on my ankle!” He lowered his gun to your ankle to look and agreed, it did not look good.
“Listen I’m sorry I’m just trying to get out of-”
The door swung open causing you both to jump in surprise.
Karl stood there, big hammer in his hand as he looked between you and Ethan. He quickly surveyed the situation and noticed you holding your ankle. One look and he could tell, Ethan had done something to it.
Ethan raised his gun to Karl, annoyed he hadn’t been able to catch a break.
Karl felt his anger bubble in his chest at the sight of you hurt. He moved forward, grabbing Ethan by the shirt and lifting him in the air.
“You think you can just come into my factory and hurt Y/N of all people?” he sneered, voice deadly. Ethan had always heard a kind of sarcastic tinge to his voice but right now he was deadly serious. It sent a chill down his spine.
You stood up, using the wall to anchor you and gingerly holding your foot up above the ground to not put pressure onto it. You put a hand on Karls arm.
“He didn’t mean to. I’m sure you have plenty of other things to crucify him for but take it out of my room.” Karl didn’t even look over at you. You and Ethan met eyes and he weighed his options on trying to get sympathy out of you. He decided he probably could’t, not with Heisenberg right there.
“I’ll be right back,” Karl muttered. He took Ethan by the shirt and threw him out the door, following close behind. You looked down at the boot prints on your blankets and sighed.
====
Karl wasn’t gone more than 20 minutes and he came rushing back to you. He hated feeling so vulnerable, knowing people had the ability to hurt him so easily through you. He opened the door to your little room and started to panic when he saw you weren’t there.
He turned around, walking swiftly, trying not to act like he was panicked, back to yours and his room. You sat on the bed, some of the blankets from the tiny room on the ground. You had a first aid kit on the bed beside you as you attempted to bandage yourself up. It looked like you were failing.
“Where the hell did you go?” he asked and he meant for it to sound angry but it came out sounding more worried. You gestured to the blanket pile.
“Needed to clean the blankets. And also wrap this ankle up. Where’s Ethan?”
“Taken care of.” He kneeled in front of you and grabbed the wrap from you. He fumbled with the first aid kit. “How do you feel? Broken? Should I cut it off?” You scoffed.
“Maybe you should. It hurts like a motherfucker.”
“Well let’s get it wrapped and see how it does.” You nodded and let his fingers work their magic. When he was done you grabbed his hands.
“Thank you Karl.”
“I’m sorry he found you. I thought I hid it well enough.”
“It was an accident, don’t worry about it.” He nodded and you kissed his forehead with a smile. “Now go wash those blankets. Those are your boot prints, mister.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and laid down on the bed beside you.
“No, but thank you for asking.”
“Pff if you weren’t comfy I would kick you out right this very second.”
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i know, you know.
summary -> bucky would die for you, but that’s not what you want from him.
words -> 1.7k
warnings -> light angst & near death & use of nickname (sweets)
notes -> i started game of thrones & i am obsessed with the idea of medieval bucky now so add that to my wips list
»»————- ☾ ————-««
Bucky has no sense of self preservation.
You’re unsure if it’s because when he was a boy he was sent to war where it wasn’t a when you come home, it was an if. Or maybe because he’s lived so long he doesn’t feel like he needs to worry about life.
At first Bucky’s martyr-like care for you had made your pulse race. Throwing himself in front of punches thrown your way and saving you from bullets by reaching out his metal arm.
Then you realized he never thought things through. He just threw himself into harms way without worrying about whether or not he would survive the action.
You’ve learned all this within the two years you’ve known him. He’s become your best friend. Something more than that too. Shared stares and secret kisses that leave your heart fluttering and skin heating.
You love him, the kind of love that bubbles under the surface of kind smiles and more than friendly touches.
The kind that leaves your leg shaking as you sit beside him now, because Bucky Barnes has been asleep for three days.
A bullet had tore through his chest and left him gasping for air and bleeding out at your feet. You had dropped beside him to your knees after sending a bullet through the attackers chest.
“Sam, you’ve got to get us out of here.” You gasp into your comms. “Bucky’s hurt.” Your hands come to rest over the wound and you press harshly against them.
You look around in panic. “You idiot.” You mumble to him. Bucky’s blinking slowly and is obviously in a daze as he tries to focus on you leaning over him. “
“I’ll die before I let someone hurt you.” Bucky whispers. Your hands are stained red and Bucky’s eyes slide shut again after he breathes the words out. You let out a choked cry as you stare down at him.
“He’ll be okay.” Sam’s hand is resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “Bucky is a fighter.”
You shake him off. “Bucky is an idiot.” You snap. Your eyes trail over his chest that’s rising and falling steadily.
‘He’s lucky.’ The doctor’s words come to your mind. ‘If it weren’t for that serum he most likely would have bled out in the field.’
You can’t stop thinking about the scene. The tips of your fingers are still stained red, the blood stubbornly refusing to wash away and remains a constant reminder of Bucky’s words in the field.
“Bucky is an idiot with no self preservation.” You start again. The words that had been caught in your throat the past three days come tumbling out like vile. “He’s selfish and doesn’t have any remorse for his choices or any idea what his actions may do to the people who care about him.”
You look at Bucky again. He doesn’t stir. His chest is still rising and falling steadily while his eyes remain closed. “I’m going to get a drink.” You push your chair our abruptly. Sam jumps away from you as you shove past him.
Guilt weighs you down immediately. You hadn’t meant to snap at Sam and you certainly didn’t mean all you said about Bucky.
It’s just - Bucky isn’t supposed to look like that. You had never seen him look so vulnerable. His skin pale and body completely immobile as he sleeps.
It has you panicking. Bucky, your Bucky, was strong and unmoving in a way that left enemies shaking. He had an aura that made you feel warm and confident with him by your side.
The hospital walls are a blank white that leave you simultaneously nauseous and comforted as you rest your back against it and shut your eyes.
Nobody stops to ask if you were okay or if you needed help, many of them too busy or preoccupied with actual patients. It was relieving to be able to have a moment of silence with nothing in your thoughts but what may be going on with the people you watched moves throughout the hospital.
How many were visitors there for a similar reason to yours? How many regular patients or who was a favorite nurse?
Sam’s voice makes you straighten out when you hear your name. You look at him apologetically, but before you can get the words out, he cuts you off. “Bucky’s awake.”
You pause. “Just like that?” You ask dumbly. You knew that this is what would happen. The doctor had explained that Bucky had been placed in an induced coma so his body could heal on it’s own and that he would wake up on his own time.
After three days though, you can’t imagine looking into Bucky’s eyes. You don’t know how to after seeing him so close to death.
“Just like that.” Sam says kindly. “I told you he was a fighter.”
You swallow thickly in an attempt to hold back tears. “I don’t… I’ll be in there soon.” You settle against the wall again.
Softly, Sam speaks, “Soon? He’s asking for you.” He tilts his head in an attempt to get you to look at him, but your eyes stay stuck to the ground. “Nobody ever said Bucky wasn’t an idiot, but he’s an idiot who cares. About you.”
“He can care about me without trying to kill himself!” You exclaim. You shoot an apologetic look toward the nurses who glance over at your voice.
There’s a beat of silence before Sam sighs. “He can. But how is supposed to know that? All Bucky has known is war, maybe in some way saving you from violence is all he knows how to do to show he cares.”
You look away again before you heave out a sigh. Your mind is a scrambled mess of panic, stress and exhaustion. All you want is to go home and forget any of this ever happened.
“I’ll give you some time.” Sam presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “Just talk to him, yeah?”
You nod reluctantly. “I will.” When you don’t move, Sam raises his eyebrows. “Just… Give me a second.” When Sam leaves you in the hallway again, you suck in a deep breath in preparation.
<- ☾ ->
“Sweets.” Bucky smiles softly when he spots you in the doorway. “Been wondering where you were.”
You look him over like you’re expecting to see him covered in blood again. “Needed some air.” You answer curtly.
Bucky watches you quietly as you move further into the room. “Something wrong?”
“I’m glad you’re okay.” You avoid answering the question. Bucky notices you pause at the end of his bed and stares with furrowed brows.
When you don’t say anything else he forces out an awkward chuckle. “I’m always gonna be okay, sweets.”
“That’s not true.” You snap. You heave in a breath as Bucky watches with wide eyes. “You don’t get to just… Just wake up and be fine.”
“I am fine.” Bucky waves his hands out in front of him as if to show you. You shake your head in disbelief. “What? I am!”
“Your blood was on my hands!” You yell, shocking Bucky into silence. “You were bleeding out! Bucky, I had to watch you almost die in my arms. You don’t… You don’t get to sit here and just say you’re fine.”
“Sweets…” Bucky trails off. His eyes move over you like you’re a wild animal and he’s afraid you’ll pounce. It makes you even more upset that you look like the irrational one here.
You look away. “You were bleeding out and there was nothing I could do but watch. I can’t… I can’t do that again.”
“What am I supposed to do?” His voice raises and you know it’s so you’ll look over at him again. “Just let them hurt you?”
There’s a moment of tense silence before you nod. “Yes.”
“I’m not doing that. I can’t and I won’t.” Bucky’s shaking his head wildly at the thought of you getting hurt. “That’s not an option.”
You scoff. You’re still standing at the end of his bed and you can’t bring yourself to move closer. Not with how angry you are at him. “What is this self-sacrificial bullshit? Who does it help?”
“You!” Bucky yells. You’re almost afraid somebody will come in to check on him and find the two of you in the midst of a fight. “I’d rather be in this bed than see you in it.”
You let out a humorless laugh, but it just ends up as an exhausted sigh. “I can’t lose you, Bucky.” You finally admit in a whisper. “I can’t… I need you here, alive.”
Bucky’s eyes soften as you looks you over. “Come here.” Your eyes grow teary as he opens his arms for you crawl in beside him. “Please, sweets. Come lay with me.”
“Bucky…” You sniffle as the beginning of a sentence trails off. You move quickly to lay beside him, careful of the wires. “I don’t want you to die for me.”
His hand runs up and down your arm as your head rests on his shoulder. “This life. My life. It’s been full of violence, I just want to protect you from it.”
“You can protect me without almost dying. I won’t watch you do this again.” You look up at him sadly, the sound of his monitor beeping steadily somehow helps you breathe calmer as you push the words out. “If you want me in your life, you’ll give up this self-sacrificing bullshit.”
Bucky shifts so he can look down at you. “What else should I do?”
“Let me fight on my own. Have faith that I can handle myself.” Your hand trails down to intertwine with his. “If I… If I ever got hurt in the field like this, I’d rather you fight for me than die for me.”
Bucky inhales sharply. “I do have faith in you.” His left hand comes up to rest on your cheek and turn you eyes to face him again. “I know you’re a good fighter. I just… I…”
“I know.” You agree. The words are clear in his eyes and the nervous smile on his face. “I just need you to promise me, no more being a martyr. I don’t need anything else right now.”
Bucky’s thumb gently runs over your cheek bone. “I promise to try.” You allow your eyes to shut as Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
There are words unspoken between you two. Things that should be said and talked about, but it can wait. You’re content to lay with him, like this, for now.
»»————- ☾ ————-««
notes -> just a short bucky piece while i work on my longer fics! next part of the survivor series should be out soon.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#james bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes writing#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#sam wilson
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Once Upon a Time in…
Storybrooke.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Emma Swan x Reader, Regina Mills x Reader, Snow White x Reader, Prince Charming x Reader.
Word Count: 2900.
Previously on the series - Neverland, Camelot
“So we’re back at square one.” You sigh, looking at Henry, while he is reading his enormous book.
“Not entirely true. We know that we have to lift the curse so you can leave, and that we have to do it fast before you become a character of the book.” He says, without raising his head at you. You’re almost arguing when a plate with at least 20 pancakes is placed before you. That stops your mind mid-rant.
“Thanks, Granny.” You smile at her, who smiles back before leaving. “Except that we don’t know who cursed the town, so I might as well embrace my fate of being a fairytale character right now and forever.”
“You know, there is another way.” He finally looks at you and you encourage him with an eyebrow raise. “Too risky and honestly? I don’t even know if they would agree to it…”
“Would you go on with it already? No need to build up the climax, we’re already past that.”
“Another curse.” Henry says and you furrow your brows. Having two curses surely doesn’t sound like the solution. “A liftable curse, of course.”
You just blink at him when he doesn’t say anything for a while.
“Ok, what if my mom cursed you into believing you’re a part of the story? You would be written into the book-” You open your mouth to argue. “But it comes from someone who knows and can undo it. So, when the time comes, she lifts the curse and you’re not in the book anymore.”
“Uh.” You think about it for a second. “Sounds like it could work. It would be like if we had a countdown watch and after your mom’s curse it would just pause it.” You say and he nods in agreement.
“The protection spell around town gets lifted and she undoes your curse right after. The countdown restarts but you would be ready to leave.” He finishes your train of thought. “Only thing is whether she will agree to this.”
“Well, we’ve got to try, right? Might be our only hope.” You’re almost out of the booth when you look at the pancakes in front of you. “Give me a minute.”
“Can’t believe you’re thinking about food right now.” Henry rolls his eyes at you.
“Can’t believe you’re not.” You say inhaling the food in front of you in exactly one minute. “Ok, I’m done.”
“This was traumatic to watch.”
You ignore him and you both run out of Granny’s to Regina’s house at the end of the main street. You try to go slower so he doesn’t fall too far behind, but you’re still in front of her house way before he gets there.
“Next time, give me a ride.” He is breathing hard next to you but recovers faster than normal. “Mom? Are you here?”
“In the kitchen, kid!” You hear Emma’s voice, and you follow Henry to it. You find both Regina and Emma making breakfast together. The scene doesn’t fail to bring tears to your eyes. It’s too familiar. “Oh, you guys are together, great!”
“We think we have a, well, it’s not a solution. It’s more like a-” Henry looks at you.
“Band-aid.” You give them a forced smile.
“Let’s hear it.” Regina asks and you and Henry do your best explaining the whole thing. “So I would undo the curse and she’ll leave, huh?”
“I know it’s not ideal but-”
“But it’s pretty good.” Emma says. She comes closer to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure about that, though?”
“No. I know nothing about magic.” You shrug. “If this was science or anything related, I would probably be sure, but this is outside my area of expertise. If you two think it could work, then I trust you to bring me back when it’s time.”
“You should know all magic comes with a price.” Regina adds.
“What’s the price?”
“We’ll learn about it later.” She raises an eyebrow at you. You think of Lena and how you need to go back home to see her eyebrow raise.
“I’ll pay.”
“Well, then hold on to it, kid.” Regina says with a smile. “You’re about to become a fairytale character.”
You and Henry look at each other. As good of an idea this was, you didn’t consider all the outcomes. You’ll become a fairytale character; you won’t remember anything about your actual life. You won’t remember your moms, aunts, cousins, girlfriend, grandmas… You know it’s what you have to do, if you ever want to make it out of this reality and back into yours, but still. Not remembering Jamie’s laugh, Maya’s kisses, Kelly’s comfort, Alex’s shoulder squeezes, Lillian’s head tilt, Eliza’s soft voice, Lena’s green eyes, Kara’s smiles, it almost makes you want to forget about this and find another way.
“Ok, the curse is ready.” Regina says and you look up, coming back from your thoughts.
“Smells funny.”
“I know, sweetheart. It's a curse. It's not meant to be pleasant.” She says, making your heart beat faster on your chest. You hold your necklace strongly in your hands; remember your family one last time. Then close your eyes.
“Yay, food!” You open your eyes and look at your moms on the other side with a stack of pancakes in front of them.
“Hey, leave some for your brother.” Regina says, stopping you before you grab all of the apple pancakes she has made.
“Fine, you can have one, Henry.” You joke, putting just one on his plate from the stack in front of you.
“Be nicer, honey.” Emma kisses the crown of your head, before sitting next to you. You smile, putting two more on his plate.
“There, you’re eating just as much as me now.”
“Listen kids, today Emma and I will be working with Mr. Gold to see if we can lift the protection spell around the city. You two will spend the day with the Charmings.”
“Oh, come on, moms. We’re old enough to help!” Henry says and you agree.
“Of course you are. And we will need your help when the time comes. Just, well, you know how is like to work with Mr. Gold-”
“Always an adventure.” You and Henry say in unison.
“Something like that.” Emma agrees looking like she wanted to disagree, instead. “Besides, I thought you had archery lessons with your grandma today?”
“Yes!” You agree, excitedly.
“And Henry, you will be hanging out with your grandpa at the station, right?” She gets his answer in the form of a nod. “Well, great, we’re all very busy today. But we’re still meeting at Granny’s tonight for dinner, ok?”
“Sure thing, mom.” You get up and kiss her head. “See you guys later, I’m late to meet grandma.” You kiss Regina’s head right after. “Bye, mom. Squirt, wanna a ride?”
“Stop calling me squirt.” Henry complains, getting up from the table. “See you later, moms.” He follows you to the front of the house. “Don’t run so fast, I just ate.”
“You know I only have two speed levels. Fast or breaking the sound barrier.” He jumps on your back and out you go, fast enough to be at the station in a blink of an eye. “See you later!”
It doesn’t take long before you and Snow White are walking in the woods close to the city. You love spending time in the woods with her. You love just sitting in silence and letting your senses become even more refined. Sure, you have super hearing, but she teaches you how to focus even on the simpler things. Leaves in the wind, steps in the woods, birds chirping. There’s no other place you feel as in peace as in the woods with Snow.
“So? How are the woods today?” She asks, hand on your shoulder.
“Was there ever a time where there wasn’t anyone in the woods doing weird stuff?” You ask, making Snow laugh loudly next to you.
“Not in Storybrooke.” Snow agrees with a smile and points a direction for you both to walk.
“How do you want to do this?” You ask, putting your bow into position and closing one eye, looking around.
“Like we shall do everything.” You look at her and she winks at you. “Together.”
You miss the shot. You try again. Your arrow breaks. You try again. You lose your temper. You try yet again.
Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.
‘Together’ is the word to live by.
“Mom, can you help me take control of the panic attacks?” It’s late at night when you ask her that. Regina is happy that you’re asking for her help, and you two sneak into her office while Emma and Henry watch Space Paranoids.
“Remember,” She holds you, before she starts. “These are nightmares I’m putting in your mind. None of them are real. You’re safe and sound at home with us. Say the word and I’ll stop.”
“Ok.”
“But sweetheart, you’ve got to fight it. With all the strength and courage I know you have. Concentrate and fight it.” Regina says, and you nod, closing your eyes.
Your mind is filled with visions. Terrible ones, by the way. You see people dying, by shot guns and swords. It’s a war inside your mind. You know it’s not real, but the feeling is the same. You try to run but your legs feel wobbly and weak, and you fall on your knees. There’s a pool of blood under you and when you look to the side you see Henry with glassy eyes, completely lifeless.
“NOOOO!” Your heart starts beating into your ribcage, as you shake before reaching for him. “Please, please don’t be dead.”
“Concentrate. Focus.”
“HE IS DEAD! IT’S MY FAULT!” You yell, with tears wetting your face.
“It’s not your fault.” Regina says in your ear. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe.”
“HENRY! PLEASE COME BACK!”
“What’s going on?” You hear his voice. Regina has already stopped filling your mind with visions, but still you see his glassy eyes staring at you. “Hey, open your eyes. I’m here.”
You see him. But your body is still reacting harshly to the vision. You cry and shake. You’ve failed, but you’re not the one to back down.
Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.
You’ll overcome your fears.
“Hey honey!” Emma wakes you up, with an excited greeting, and you roll to the side not opening your eyes just yet. “I could really use your help with something.”
“What is it?” You mumble, still too sleepy to talk.
“We’ve gotta help Ella. And I thought we could have some mother-daughter bonding time.”
“You’re my mother. Isn’t that enough of a bond?” You ask, as a joke, and you get a chuckle in response.
“Come on. It would be much faster if you could fly around and find her for me. Otherwise I would have to use magic to find a shoe and then more magic to track her, and then-”
“Oh my God, ok. I’ll help.” You get up and get ready in seconds. “I know you just want my help because I’m faster than the Flash.”
“Faster than a flash, honey.” Emma corrects you. “Let’s go!”
So you find Ella, just before her evil stepmother shoots her, and you stand tall in front of her because you’re indestructible, and your mom uses magic to contain her evil stepmother, and it’s just another day in Storybrooke. You know, for a really small town, there’s always something going on in here.
“Saving the town with my kid.” Emma throws her arms around your shoulders with a smile. “What mother could ask for more?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think being saved probably doesn’t sound so bad.” You complain, getting a tight squeeze from her.
“Sitting around waiting to be saved, with no idea whether someone’s actually going to come for you-” She sighs, loudly. “Trust me, I know doing all the saving all the time sounds exhausting. But waiting around is-is as bad as it can get, honey.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.
Heroism comes first.
“Are you ready?” Snow asks and you agree excitedly. Bow and arrow ready to shoot. You look at her getting in position. “Together.”
You nod, and you two aim at the same spot. Both of the arrows travel together and land side by side in the middle of the target. You smile, excited. “I feel like the Green Arrow!”
“Who’s that?” Snow asks and you look at her furrowing your brows.
“I-I don’t know.” You think and think about how that name just easily left your mouth. Huh. Weird.
Days. Weeks. Months.
“Here comes the town’ superhero!” Emma says when you walk in the kitchen.
“Here is the town’ savior!” You answer with a smile.
“I could use your help out there today, kid!” She widens her smile.
“Doesn’t this town have enough heroes?” You sit next to her, and she kisses the crown of your head, before placing a plate of hot waffles in front of you.
“But only one is super.” She winks, making you giggle in excitement. You’re convinced right away.
Days. Weeks. Months.
“Focus. Concentrate.” Regina says, close to your ear. And you breathe deep trying to do so.
“It's kind of hard when you're talking in my ear.”
“And when the wind blows, or it's raining, or someone's shooting arrows at you. Yes, concentration's hard. That's the point.” She bumps her shoulder on yours. “Sweetheart, you told me you needed help.”
“And I do.”
“Then let me help.” She runs her fingers through your hair slowly. “The world will always throw disappointments, sorrows and pain on our backs. It’s our job to learn how to handle them. I worked very hard for my first reaction to be as Regina and not as the Evil Queen.”
“I know, mom. You said that a million times.” Your answer makes Regina lose her cool a little. And you smile, apologetic. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I asked for help. I need to know how to handle the pain. Please, I’m ready to go on.”
“Close your eyes.” She asks again and you comply. “Are you ready?” You shake your head in agreement.
You see images. Like a lucid dream in your mind. Regina is using magic to alter what you see. And you see destruction, death everywhere. You see Snow’s head detached from her body, Emma bleeding with a sword on her heart, the only thing left from Charming is his hand, still clinging to his sword.
You should be ready by now. In fact, you should be used to it somehow. It’s not the first time you and Regina do this kind of exercise. But it doesn’t matter how many times you see your family bleeding out, totally lifeless in front of you, every single time, without fail, makes your heart beat faster, your lungs stop working, you shake, you start crying and hyperventilating, ready to destroy everything.
“Focus! No fire from the eyes.” You hear Regina’s voice and you come back to yourself a little bit, just to hold back your first reaction. It’s always the eyes.
“But mom is dead.” You cry out, clenching your fist.
“Concentrate. You can do it.”
You can do it.
You kneel before Snow’s head. Breath in while counting to 3. Hold your breath for 3 seconds. Breath out in the same amount of time. You know this isn’t real. Snow is home, and safe. You’re not in the enchanted forest. Nothing here is real.
You unclench your fist. Steadying your breath. You fight the images. Snow’s head goes back to her body. Charming’s hand disappears. Emma opens her eyes.
“You can do it.” You hear again. And you feel the thump in your heart settling back in your ribcage. Beating normal again. Soon enough the entire thing vanishes in front of your eyes. You open your eyes again. Your hands are still shaking a little, but you’re home with your mom, and you’re safe. She smiles fondly at you. “See? I knew you could do it.”
“I did it. I stopped my panic attack.” You say with excitement planted on your face and she hugs you tightly. It doesn’t matter how many months it took you to do so, you still did it.
“How about we celebrate? Guess who lifted the town’s protection spell this morning?”
“Wait, really?” Your eyes widen in excitement.
“Yes! You know what that means?” Regina asks, and you can barely contain yourself, jumping up and down.
“Pizza from the neighborhood city!” You squeak. “Can I go get it? Please mom, let me go get it!”
“Here.” Regina gives you the money. “Bring enough for your grandparents. And Belle. Maybe Hook too. Just anyone who happens to be at Granny’s.”
“So basically the entire city?”
“Basically.” She smiles and you’re almost out the door, when you look back at her and add.
“Did I have any plans for when we could leave town?” You think and think, but nothing comes to mind. “It’s weird, I swear I feel like I’m forgetting something important.”
“Maybe to give mom a kiss?” Regina asks and you smile. Rushing to her and hugging her, before kissing her forehead.
“Yeah, it was probably just a kiss.” You chuckle.
Days. Weeks. Months.
#supergirl#kara danvers#supercorp#supercorpfamily#lena luthor#supercorp daughter#kara x lena#kara x reader#supercorp fanfic#lena x reader#ouat fanfiction#ouat#snow white#emma swan#regina mills#swanqueen
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Speak Easy Part 13
Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader
Words : 3125
Masterlist
Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.
Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.
********************************************************************
You watched as Dabi paced in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. Shoto had come to sit next to you and you were grateful for his calming presence. He kept giving you a weird look and then looking at his brother. He obviously wanted to ask what was going on between the two of you, but you mouthed, “later” at him and he shrugged it off.
“Ok. So what? He has a list of my safe houses. That’s okay… That’s arguably a good thing actually.” Dabi was thinking out loud trying, and even though his voice sounded calm, you could see the way his hands balled into fists so tight his staples were pulling.
“No one knows about this place. This is the safest house out of all of them. I bought it after I left the League, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the security is the best money can buy.” He stopped his pacing and looked at his brother, “So…”
Shoto draped a lazy arm around you and you released a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He quirked his head at his older brother, “So…? What? Why is that a good thing?”
Dabi’s eyes got this scary look. They practically glowed and you could tell whatever he was thinking probably wasn’t good. “It means we can pick them off. Set up traps for them at my other safe houses. It might take some time… we won’t know what houses they’re targeting so at first it’ll be a lot of guess work.” You could see a scheme hatching behind his eyes and for once he truly looked like a villain. “You said Bakugo was already out looking for them, right? I can meet up with him! They’re my houses after all, no one knows them better than me.”
He took off towards the bedroom mumbling something about needing to pack. Your wide eyes connected with Shoto’s, “How long before he remembers he’d have to leave me behind and panics?”
Shoto hummed, “I’d say about thirty seconds after he’s done packing.” He shrugged, “It’s not a bad plan honestly. I see he’s gotten rather attached to you lately though.”
You could hear the unspoken question and you weren’t sure you were ready to jump into that conversation just yet. It was bad enough that Katsuki knew. You shrugged and averted your eyes back to the door Dabi had disappeared behind. “We’ve gotten pretty close. You learn a lot about someone when you’re stuck in a house with them.”
“SHIT!”
Shoto sighed, “Sounds like he just remembered.”
Dabi stomped back into the living room and stopped a few feet in front of you. His stare was intense almost like he was trying to see through you. You could see his frustration growing as he battelled internally over what he should do. “I can’t leave you here by yourself… I don’t want to leave you at all. But- But I can’t take you with me either.” You could see his mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution.
“You can leave me here, I’m not totally useless. I have the collar, so you can call me, check on my location and vitals and all that creepy shit.” You gestured to the younger Todoroki sitting next to you, “And I’m sure your brother and Izuku are dying to have some time to catch up. They can keep me company. Kiri too if need be.”
Dabi kneeled in front of you and laid his arms on either side of you, caging you in. “It would drive me insane leaving you here.”
You brushed your thumb over the spot between his eyes, smoothing out his worried expression. “More insane than if you stayed here and let Katsuki handle this on his own?”
His body sagged and he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you want me to go.”
You leaned your head on his. “Of course I don’t want you to go idiot. But I hate to break it to you, I know you pretty well… And I don’t think sitting here day after day listening to you complain about how you could do it better, sounds like fun.” He groaned because he knew you were right. “So, go ahead and go. I’ll be fine here I promise. Go catch some bad guys with Katsuki.”
“Ugh don’t say it like that. You make is sound like a cheesy buddy cop movie. I just hope your little hero friend isn’t squeamish because I’m not going to hold back.”
Shoto cleared his throat, “Some of us… little heroes… have seen enough shit to last a lifetime. Bakugo’s the hardest working and grittiest out of us all, so believe me when I say you don’t need to worry about him.”
Dabi narrowed his eyes at his brother who he had just realized was practically cuddling with you. “Seeing death and dealing it out are two different things. I know he’s capable of killing someone, but mentally I don’t think he could cross that line.” He held a hand up to stop Shoto from arguing with him. “And I don’t care if he doesn’t want to get his precious hero hands dirty. Because that’s what I’m here for, and I’m honestly looking forward to it.”
You huffed, “Listen, I really don’t like the look you get when you talk about killing people. It’s sick… killing isn’t supposed to be fun you psychopath.”
His eyes shifted back to yours, “Baby girl. I want to make something clear. I will find the sick fucks that kidnapped you. I will torture them in the most painful and humiliating ways possible. By the time I’m done… they will welcome death with open arms. I’ll be doing them a favor.” His forehead pressed against yours. “Unless you’d rather I save them for you…My destroyer of men.”
You hit his shoulder, “I’d rather you let Katsuki arrest them! You know how I feel about killing villains.”
His hand gripped the back of your neck hard to force you to look at him, “…No. You know I can’t do that. The sooner you accept that, the easier all of this will be.” His thumb rubbed your cheek, “I know it sucks. But this is the world you live in now. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”
Shoto cleared his throat, “Listen I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from being kinky in my presence.”
Dabi growled, “Fuck off! You literally let yourself in unannounced… When all of this over I swear we’re leaving the fucking country. I’m so sick of you brats just coming over whenever you feel like it. We’re gonna leave and you’ll never see us again.”
Shoto quirked an eyebrow, “So… Even after all of this is resolved… you plan to still live with y/n?” You could see the gears turning in his head as he pieced all of this together. “Hmm interesting.” He got up and stretched. “Well I guess I’ll give you guys some alone time to… do whatever this is… just without me having to witness it.”
“Hey before you go… You sure you’re okay with keeping an eye on her while I’m gone?” You hadn’t heard Dabi sound so uncertain before. Usually he carried so much confidence that it was overwhelming. But now he sounded lost.
Shoto nodded, “Yeah it’s not a big deal. Izuku and I can take shifts. Kirishima will probably take over every now and then depending on how long you are gone… But we don’t mind. Y/n was right when she said we’d like to catch up with her.” He gave you an awkward wink that was completely out of character for him. “You’ve been hoarding her all to yourself for months now.” He walked down the hall and shouted, “Try not to be too loud. I’ll just pick the room that smells the least like sex.”
“Good luck! I’ve fucked her on every surface of the hou—” You slammed a hand over Dabi’s mouth to cut him off.
You hid your face in Dabi’s shoulder to stifle your laugh. “I love your brother so much. He has no filter and it’s honestly so refreshing.”
A quick slap to your thigh had you gasping, “I don’t appreciate you talking about my brother that way.” He nipped at your earlobe harshly, “Especially after I just agreed to let him stay here while I’m gone.”
Before you could respond he was standing up and throwing you over his shoulder, “I think I need to remind you who you fucking belong to.” He slapped your ass as you shrieked, “I might be gone for a while, so I think I need to give you something to remember.”
“You are so ridiculous! He’s literally in a committed relationship with another man!”
Dabi tossed you onto his bed and immediately fell on top of you. “He’s also my brother and I know that slut swings both ways.” He bit down hard on your shoulder, “I’m going to leave my fucking mark all over you before I go.” He sucked a bruise into your neck, “Tonight… I’m going to claim every fucking inch of you.”
He had you naked underneath him within seconds, kissing down the column of your neck. He continued down to suck a nipple into his mouth and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from screaming.
“Come on baby, let him hear you. Let him hear how good I treat you. Let him know that there is only one Todoroki for you.”
You wanted to argue with him. There was no way Shoto was interested in you at all. He’d been in love with Izuku since high school. But you were also enjoying the way Dabi was marking his territory. There was something so peaceful about giving up control to another person, especially someone you trust.
You let him kiss and suck and grope every part of you. In this moment you were his to do with as he wished. You didn’t care he was leaving mark after mark on your skin. He was claiming you, he was daring others to lay a finger on what it is his. And you fucking loved it. You loved the peace and the comfort that came with the idea of him declaring that you are his. The security of knowing he wouldn’t let another soul touch you.
He bit harshly into your inner thigh, making you yelp and buck your hips.
He chuckled darkly as he came back up and rubbed his nose against yours. “Baby girl, just look at your face. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and you already looked so fucked out.” He dragged his fingers lightly over your stomach, across your ribs, over your breast, and finally let them settle on your neck.
You shivered and closed your eyes, “Dabiiii, stop teasing me.”
His fingers tightened around your throat. “You said some shit earlier that really got under my skin. And now I can’t decide if I should punish you or not.”
Your head spun as it tried to think about what you possibly could have said to upset him. “What – what did I say?”
Dabi leaned in sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before biting down hard. “You said…. You loved my brother.”
Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt an intense heart overwhelm your face and neck. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Was he jealous? Did he want you to say you loved him? Is that really what he wanted to hear?
You hadn’t noticed him pulling his own pants down until he was thrusting into you. “I’m a selfish man y/n. I’m greedy. I don’t share. And hearing those sweet little words said about someone else.” His hips snapped into yours harder, as his fingers got even tighter around your neck to the point where you were sure there would be bruises.
His pace picked up and you could feel the sweat dripping from his forehead, “I wanna hear you say it. Who do you love?”
Your eyes rolled back as you croaked out a horse “you”
“That’s not good enough doll. I said! WHO do you FUCKIN LOVE?”
His fingers let go of your throat and as intense pleasure washed over you, leaving your legs shaking, “YOU!”
He fucked you through your orgasm before he followed right behind you, “That’s what I fuckin thought.”
He only parted with you long enough to clean the two of you up. He wandered to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. You hummed contently as rubbed it all over your body, especially over the sore new marks he had made on your skin. When he was satisfied, he tossed the rag to the floor to deal with later and rejoined you in bed. He pulled you to him, your back to his chest, and let out a huge sigh. “I’m really nervous about leaving you here. And it honestly makes me angry. I’ve never cared about another person like this, hell I’ve never even cared about my own well being this much.” You could feel him resting his chin on your shoulder, “It makes me feel weak and I hate it.”
You intertwined your fingers with his that were wrapped around your middle. “You know what they say about bravery right? Bravery isn’t not being scared. Only stupid people aren’t scared of anything. Bravery is being scared of something and doing it anyway.” You sank further into his embrace. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared too. Which is equally as frustrating.”
You could feel him kiss your shoulder, encouraging you to continue. “I used to be incredibly independent. I lived alone, I worked alone, because of the classified nature of my job I was pretty isolated. I didn’t need anyone, and I was more than happy to get shit done on my own…Now the thought doing anything without you gives me anxiety.”
He sighed, “If anything that makes me feel worse… I believe we have a classic case of codependency… it’s your fault by the way. For sucking me in to your annoyingly needy arms.”
“Says the guy who has his arms currently wrapped around me like a vice.” You wanted to stay in this sweet moment. He was never this open with you, never this soft. “And even though it’s not my fault, I will admit that I did kind of need you for everything when I first got here.” You felt his chest rumble with silent laughter. “But you never really complained, did you? To be honest I had thought you would have been… I don’t know… a little more… cold I guess.”
His hands heated up as they rubbed circles into your stomach. “To anyone else I definitely would have been.” He turned you around so he could pull your chest to his and rolled onto his back, tucking your head under his chin. “I was fucking toast the second you fell into my arms though.” He groaned, “UGH! I sound like such a pussy. I hate it.”
You pressed several kisses to his chest, “Well I don’t hate it.”
There was a long stretch of silence in which the two of you just held each other, not wanting to burst your bubble.
Dabi cleared his throat and you knew he wanted to talk about it. “Listen… While I’m gone all of the laws are still valid. You still need to take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here to force you to eat lunch doesn’t mean you don’t have to.” His fingers rubbed up and down your spine. “I’m sure if you ask the guys, they’ll work out with you, but they need to keep their filthy hands to themselves.” His hand stopped at your collar, “And as much I hate saying this. Don’t call me.”
You lifted your head and gave him a confused look, “What? You worried your side chicks will hear?”
He reached down and slapped your ass, “Shut up. I literally live with you and we never leave the house. That jokes not even funny.” His hand started to rub the same spot he had just slapped, “I’m being serious though. I don’t want you to call me. If something happens and they get my phone, or hell if they somehow capture me, I don’t want anything tying me to you. Shigaraki suspects you’re with me otherwise he wouldn’t be going through my safe houses. But he doesn’t know you’re with me, and I want to keep it that way.” His voice got quitter as he mumbled into your hair, “Besides… I think if I heard your voice I’d give up and come home.”
You froze, “Okay, that is officially the softest thing you’ve ever said to me… and I love it.”
He growled low in your ear, “That’s it, I’m going to start calling you whore, and making you call me sir. I’m losing my damn edge.”
You just giggled, knowing he was bluffing, but then again… he did get you a collar.
“I’m going to miss you… sir.”
“I’m gonna miss you too… my special little whore.”
You sarcastically beamed at him, “Aww you think I’m special?”
That night, you barley slept. You were so worried he’d leave without waking you up to say bye. So, as a consequence you woke up several times throughout the night and every time, he’d pull you closer and mumble a sleepy “still here.”
When morning finally came you sat on the bed with your kneed tucked under your chin as you watched him finish getting ready. Your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, taking his time. He knew the sooner he got dressed the sooner he’d have to leave.
Finally, when he had no other choice, he laced his boots up and looked at you. “Come here…” He held his arms out to you and you quickly slid into his embrace. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” He kissed the top of your head. “Listen to Shoto and try not to give him too much shit. Follow the laws, don’t watch any of our shows while I’m gone, if there’s any big emergencies have one of the guys call Bakugo.”
You nodded and looked up into his bright blue eyes, “You be safe, and don’t do anything stupid. Come back preferably in one piece please.”
He chuckled, “I will do my best doll.”
************
Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi
#bakugo katsuki imagine#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bhna bakugou#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#dabi my hero academia#dabi imagine#dabi#yandere dabi#dabi x y/n#dabi x you#dabi x reader#dabi bnha#mha dabi#dabi todoroki#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#my hero academia
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no need to hide from me
info: philza finds out about your scars. not that he's mad, he's just surprised. 》 they/them 》 irl + platonic 》 1.5k words
warnings: explicit selfharm, blood, hurt/comfort, implied father/child-like bond
a/n: my first piece, i don't know how i feel about it.
this blog it meant as a way of coping with trauma/mental issues, please don't report it. if you don't want to see what i write, please just block me.
——♤——
"kgh-"
you felt the pain run through your body as the blood slowly dripped past your forearm onto your thigh. a sharp inhale went through your airpipe into your aching lungs.
"ack-!"
the small razorblade slid over your troubled skin for the fifth time these past 2 minutes, hoping no one would hear your small choked sobs from the echoing bathroom.
after letting the pain simmer down you get welcomed coldly by numbness. it never fails to meet you after a cut.
this meet-up has been nice, enjoyable, even. but the guilt of not being able to be as hyperactive as tommy and tubbo, the embarrassment of not understanding what wilbur was talking about and the shame of accidentally saying something stupid and phil laughing at it gave you a reason to punish yourself.
—
you didn't eat much during dinner, even though it was your favorite meal - kristen even cooked for everyone. that's exactly when phil knew something was wrong.
you excused yourself from the table and walked upstairs to the room you resided in. after the others moved on from the dinner table to the living room phil decided to go after you, telling kristen to heat up a plate of food and join the rest of their friends. kristen understood, and walked to the kitchen to grab a plate. phil quietly yet swiftly made his way upstairs.
—
you heard the stairs being climbed from the other side of the walls, widening your eyes and making you panic. the blade you were holding was stained with a mix of old and fresh blood. the tiny drops of dark-red liquid splashed on your leg once again. in a panic you threw the razor to the corner of the room and wiped the blood of your body hastily. you pulled your sleeves over your hands and hid them from sight, hoping the new cuts wouldn't bleed through the fabric.
"(y/n)?"
phil knocked on the door to your room. you wipe your face entirely, trying to physically get rid of your anxious expression and answered phil's call.
"come in!"
you sounded grossly happy, making you cringe internally. you trapped your hands between your legs while feeling the mattress sinking next to you.
"you okay? you didn't eat much earlier."
phil wasn't stupid; he knew you weren't. he wanted to see if you would confess to him on your own terms.
"oh, yeah. i'm okay, just didn't feel too hungry, heh."
the small laugh you exuded only worsened phil's concerns.
"(y/n), i'm not sure i believe you. you can trust me."
your panic grew by the second, not wanting to worry phil, yet desperately wanting to tell him. you didn't have the words for it and your brain is not going to bother finding them - it was too busy trying not to cry.
"phil, i promise i'm alright. i just wasn't hungry and i'm worn out from the things we did."
phil exhaled through his nose. what the hell was he going to ask you now?
you bit your lip harshly, trying to focus on the pang of hurt coursing through your mouth rather than your head.
"listen, (y/n). i know you better than this. you can tell me what's wrong-"
before he could properly finish his sentence you stood up. you screwed your eyes shut and yelled at him.
"I SAID I'M FINE, PHIL!"
phil was taken aback by the sudden and intense hostility you showed.
"i'm...i-i.."
you slowly came to a realisation as to what happened. your lips sputtered unintelligible words and your eyes spilled out tears. phil quickly came to his senses and stood up as well. his arms wrapped around your upper arms and shoulders, his head resting on top of yours.
"it's okay, (y/n). i'm not mad, i promise."
you didn't respond. you only sobbed louder and pushed your face into his chest, finding safety in his secure embrace. you stood like this for a bit, calming down over time until the sobs from earlier were nothing more than hiccups.
"are you okay to talk about it now?"
phil eventually spoke up. you nod slowly, pulling away from the hug and letting yourself fall onto the bed you sat on a while ago, phil following your lead.
"what's wrong, kid?"
you let out a shaky breath and let go of the sleeve you were holding onto tightly during the conversation. you grabbed the end of your sleeve and tried to pull it up, but to no avail.
you couldn't. you couldn't show him yourself.
you whined softly, trying to think of a solution. phil rested his hand on your thigh as a way of non-verbal support, giving you an idea. you dropped your arm onto phil's hand, him instantly understanding what you meant and grabbing your arm gingerly. he placed it on his lap and carefully peeled off the sleeve.
"oh, (y/n)."
it was a sight to behold; a bloodied arm with messy cuts, a few still dribbling slightly, most of your skin covered in the half-dried crimson fluid.
refusing to look at phil, you stared at the wall on the other side of the room. you could feel his eyes staring daggers at it, your face heating up in shame and vulnerability.
"i'm so sorry, (y/n)."
you felt your sleeve being pulled over your arm again and you were pulled into another embrace. this time the hug felt sympathetic, like it was apologizing to you for everything you've ever been through, saying sorry for the fact you had to do this as a way to live with yourself.
if you had anything left, you could've cried for hours. but your tears ran out a while ago, so you stayed quiet, with the exception of a few whimpers and sighs.
"thank you for telling me."
phil broke the silence again, a small smile appearing on your tear-stained face.
"but- we should really clean up that arm. you don't want that to get infected."
he said with a hint of a chuckle. it was kind of nice hearing him be a little humorous in such a depressing scene.
"yeah, maybe we should."
you responded with the same tone. he grabbed your hand and lead you to the nearest bathroom. he fetched the softest towel he could find and dampened it with lukewarm water. he then turned his attention to you; he dabbed the still open cuts first and cleaning up the freshest blood. then he moved onto the dried blood around it, wiping it carefully, minding the sensitive wounds.
"stay here, i'll get the first-aid kit from the other bathroom."
phil said, before disappearing into the hall outside. you stood on the cold tiles for a few moments, pondering how you even managed to muster the strength to tell anyone. you were glad you did, though.
"i'm back!"
the familiar voice rang through the reverberating room and into your ears, making you turn your head in the door's direction. the smile grew slightly when phil's face entered your vision.
"arm, please."
you did as he asked and handed your arm to him. he took a cream-coloured bandage out of the small bag and gently yet firmly wraps your injured arm.
"thank you, phil."
your smile was persisting while looking at the bandaged arm. phil packed up the first-aid kit and grinned himself.
"you're welcome, kid. now, let's get some clean clothes and a plate of warm food."
—
"PHILZA!"
tommy yelled from the couch he sat on. the rest of the group quickly turned around to greet their friends.
"hi, mate. what are we watching?"
wilbur waved over to you and signaled to come sit next to him. you happily obliged and sat down with a plate in hand. the couch was just big enough to seat 3 people, you, tommy and wilbur occupying said seats. kristen sat on the chair on the left, while tubbo sat on a pillow on the floor with his hand in a bag of crisps.
"no idea, we were just going to choose something."
wilbur answered for him, earning him a smack on the knee from the blonde. phil laughed while lowering himself into a chair on the right side of the couch.
"he asked me, you prick."
"well, you were just too slow."
the two boys bickered back and forth a bit until tubbo spoke up.
"why don't we let (y/n) decide?"
both wilbur and tommy seemed satisfied with that resolution, nodding their heads and verbally agreeing.
"uhm, how about ___."
kristen immediately agreed, so did phil and tubbo. tommy was still a bit bitter about not being the one to choose, but didn't object, the same for wilbur.
"alright, it has been decided!"
—
the movie was quite long, but enjoyable. your dinner was finished and the plate stood on the coffee table, next to an empty glass and a half-eaten bag of crisps.
your head rested on wilbur's shoulder, a fluffy blanket draped over you along with one of his arms. your eyelids were heavy, the light emitting from the tv becoming more distant every second.
a final consious breath escaped your lungs and you finally fell asleep.
the comfort this household has brought you is something you couldn't find anywhere else - you were truly home.
——♤——
thank you for reading, please be nice
masterlist
#dream smp x reader#mcyt x reader#philza x reader#dream smp x you#mcyt x you#philza x you#dream smp x y/n#mcyt x y/n#philza x y/n#dream smp fluff#mcyt fluff#philza fluff#dream smp angst#mcyt angst#philza angst#dream smp fanfiction#mcyt fanfiction#philza fanfiction#philza#dream smp#mcyt
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Five Times He Almost Kissed You, The One Time He Did || Kelly Severide
Author’s Note: Kelly was super fun to write for. I had one hundred scenarios in my head that I struggled to choose from, but I eventually had to choose one and so here we are. I hope you enjoy, next up is Herrmann. Gif by @baharsahins
One...
You had only been with Squad 3 for only a few months, and during that time, Kelly had never seen you panic. The two of you might had gotten off on the wrong foot when the two of you first met, but he couldn’t help but admire the way you always kept a level-head during calls, even the very, very stressful ones. You were practically a becon of calming energy, and Kelly couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at the fact that the rest of the squad relied on you to keep them calm and not their own Lieutenant.
But as the two of you became trapped in an apartment complex basement, with a broken water main slowly filling up the incredibly small and cramped space, Kelly watched you break. You pressed yourself as close to the wall as possible, cowering away from the water as it now reached your knees. You were panting frantically, your eyes darting every which way in search of a way out. Kelly called out to you, as you stared down at the water completely petrified. Kelly waded through the water towards you, the water now reaching his waist, and placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him.
“Y/n, look at me!” He shouted, trying to be heard over the rushing water from above. When your eyes met his own, Kelly almost had to do a double take. Your eyes were bloodshot, laden with tears as you descended into a state of pure fear. Kelly tightened his hold on your shoulders “Y/n, focus on me okay? Don’t look at the water, look at me...” He insturcted, as your eyes glazed over with a look of bewilderment “Tell me something that no one else knows about you, something you’ve never told anyone”. He watched as your breathing somewhat steadied, your eyes becoming clearer as you swallowed thickly “I’m scared of drowning”. For a moment, Kelly was confused by your answer before you continued “When I was little my parents owned a lakehouse just a few hours away from the city. I fell in off the wharf and almost drowned, I’ve been terrified of water ever since”.
In that moment, a strange feeling to kiss you surged through Kelly. It was just an idea, to take your mind off of what was happening around you. It was nothing more than that. He didn’t want to see you like this, so scared, and so unlike your usual and bright self. The water had now risen to just below your shoulders, just as the collapsed ceiling above was removed to reveal the concerned faces of Boden, Casey, Herrmann and Mouch. Kelly smiled, turning his gaze back to your form as a relieved sob escaped you. After the two of you had been helped out of the basement, you enveloped Kelly in a tight embrace, whispering a shaky ‘thank you’ over and over again. And he held onto you, assuring you that you were safe.
Two...
Molly’s was very busy that night, and so Kelly kept to himself in one of the booths in the very corner of the room.
There were a lot of faces he didn’t recognise, but there was one that he couldn’t take his eyes off. You stood at the bar, a bright smile on your face as you spoke with Herrmann. Your eyes sparkled, he’d never seen you smile like that before. You just looked so happy. He must have been staring, because he hadn’t noticed that you had suddenly moved into the seat across from him. “Hey, you look a little spaced out. You okay?” You asked quietly, tilting your head to the side in wait for his answer.
Shaking himself from his stupor, Kelly nodded slowly “Yeah I’m good, it’s just been a bit of a rough day that’s all” He replied, his gaze flickering between the half empty beer bottle in his grasp and your form before him. You nodded in agreement, releasing a small hum as you gave him a grin “Tell me about it, the last call wasn’t exactly easy. Especially since we had a run-in with one of the guys we rescued”
Kelly laughed, shaking his head at the memory. There was no explaination as to why he had gotten violent, but he had shoved you quite harshly and pinned you against the side of Truck 81. If Kelly hadn’t stepped in, and hauled that guy away from you with much greater force, the situation would have likely become more complicated. “I wanted to thank you, for what you did today. And I also wanted to say thank you for...for not telling anyone about what happened in that basement a few weeks ago” You whispered shyly, biting your lip somewhat anxiously in embarrassment. Kelly grinned in response, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. After that incident, you and Kelly had gotten closer. He began to confide in you, and talk to you more often. “It’s not my place to tell anybody...” He replied, leaning forward in his seat “but you do have to overcome that fear. If you want to stay on squad you have to-”
“I know, I’m working on it okay? I just...I just can’t...” You trailed off, sighing heavily as your shoulders slumped, your eyes glazing over as memories of the rising water no doubt consumed your mind. That strange feeling surged through him again, that same feeling that made him want to kiss you. He didn’t want to see you like this, completely distant and slightly trembling. It was so unlike you, so far from your usual happy self. And so Kelly leaned over across the table, and gently placed his hand atop yours “How about I help you out, I won’t tell another living soul that you are afraid of water, and I will do whatever I can to help you overcome that fear”.
The smile that appeared on your face caused Kelly’s heart to soar. Your eyes regained their sparkle, and the small laugh that escaped your lips made him feel all the more happier.
Three...
“I’ll have to pass”
“Oh come on Y/n...” Gabby whined, slumping down against the table with a loud groan “just go on one date with this guy please? He seems really into you and I think the two of you would be perfect for each other”. You shook your head, grimacing slightly as you shook your head in response. “I’m really sorry Gabby, but this guy has already sent me a hundred messages which are entirely inappropriate and I just don’t think I should go out with this guy. I know you’re trying to set me up with someone but I just...”
Kelly had tried to stop listening to your conversation hours ago, but he just couldn’t help eavesdropping. He had heard from certain people around the firehouse that Gabby was trying to get you to go on a date with a doctor she had briefly met on one of her trips to the hospital on a call. She had been trying for weeks to get you to go out with him, and every time you had refused. Just the thought of you going out with someone else other than him made Kelly feel incredibly jealous. It was no secret to a few people in the firehouse that Kelly had somehow developed feelings for you, they had suspected a short time after the two of you had been trapped in that flooded basement.
He watched on in silent anger as you once again rejected Gabby’s offer to date some guy she met at Molly’s. What he really wanted to do was to kiss you passionately and to kindly but politely shut Dawson up. You were the only person who seemed to understand him, who was always there for him no matter what tough situation was thrown his way. And so probably against his better judgement, Kelly stood up from his seat and awkwardly approached your table. He stopped short as your eyes quickly moved toward him, a kind smile forming on your face. “Kelly, thank god. How can I help you?” You asked in a slightly exasperated tone, though the joking demenour behind it shone through. His chest suddenly felt tight as a million thoughts raced through his mind. What if you said no? What would he do then? He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves as he spoke.
“I uh...I was wondering if you would like to um...maybe grab a drink at Molly’s sometime. With me, I was wondering if you would go with me to Molly’s for a-”
“Sure, I’d love to”
Kelly froze, his eyes widening in shock. It took him a moment to comprehend your response, but as soon as he realized that you had said yes, he suddenly felt ecstatic. He nodded excitedly in response, grinning childishly before walking away with a slight skip in his step. His happy demenour made you smile, whilst Gabby just gawked between you and Kelly’s retreating form as she tried to piece together what had just occured.
Four...
“I’m not getting in that pool”
“Why not, the water is lovely. And besides, you promised that you would work on getting over your fear of water”.
You knew that this was a bad idea, you weren’t even sure why you agreed to meet Kelly here in the first place. You hugged your arms close to your frame nervously as you watched Kelly wade through the water, your entire body trembling at the thought of submerging yourself completely beneath the water. Kelly approached the edge of the pool, looking up at you with his signature cheeky yet charming grin. “Come on, just hop in. I’ll be with you every step of the way” He spoke calmly, extending his hand out towards you in sincerity. Stubbournly, you shook your head and backed away from the pool’s edge “No, no way. I’m not getting in there-”
“Y/n if you don’t get over here I will get out and carry you in if I have to” Kelly stated blatantly, half hauling himself out of the pool with a raised eyebrow in emphasis to his words. You glared toward him “Is that a challenge, Severide?”
“That’s a promise, sweetheart”.
The way his voice darkened caused your cheeks to flush a bright pink, but knowing that Kelly would stay true to his word, you reluctantly shuffled over to the edge of the pool and sat down. Kelly grinned triumphantly, submerging himself under the water before resurfacing with a flick of his hair. You rolled your eyes as Kelly chuckled, wading through the water towards you before taking your hands in his own. “I hate you so much” You grumbled, trying so very hard to stop your hands from trembling. Huffing a laugh, Kelly tightened his grip around your hands comfortingly “No you don’t, otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to go out on that date with me tomorrow night”.
After easing yourself into the water, you practically clung to the man before you as Kelly lead you through the water. Kelly took note of your close proximity, and suddenly found himself becoming increasingly nervous. Your face was just inches away from his own, the temptation to kiss you was becoming way too overwhelming. Yet he composed himself, and focused on the task at hand. It would take some time for you to get over your fear of water, but Kelly was willing to do whatever it took to help you. You were apart of his squad, not to mention the fact that he was deeply in love with you.
Five...
Kelly bounced his leg anxiously as he sat at the bar at Molly’s.
You were due to arrive for your date any second now, and for some unknown reason, Kelly Severide was more nervous than he had ever been in his life. He had never felt this nervous before, not even on call. He really wanted this date to go well.
“Would you calm down already?” Herrmann mused from behind the bar, staring at the man before him with a bewildered expression “I’m sure everything is going to be fine, you just need to take a breath, alright”. Kelly turned to face Herrmann with a long and heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned forward against the bar. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous”.
“A little is an understatement my friend...” Herrmann teased, laughing mockingly just as the door to Molly’s opened. Kelly turned, half expecting to see Otis turn up for his shift behind the bar. But he was completely blown away at the sight of you. You wore a short black dress covered in a small red rose pattern, with a black leather jacket over your shoulders. Your hair was swept over your shoulder lazily, unlike at the firehouse when it had been thrown up into a messy ponytail. A cute messy ponytail. When your eyes met his from across the room, you smiled brightly and gave him a small wave as you approached. This was it, this was really happening. God, Kelly didn’t know what to do. You looked so beautiful, the breath was completely knocked out of him.
As you sat down on the seat beside him at the bar, the feeling of wanting to kiss you resurfaced. He was so unbelievably happy that you had agreed to this date, so unbelievably happy that you-
“Hello? Earth to Kelly Severide?” You suddenly interrupted, a teasing tone to your voice as you chuckled at the man before you. Brought back from his stupor, Kelly’s eyes remained frozen on your form. “You look gorgeous” he suddenly blurted, noting the bright redness that spontaniously covered your cheeks. You waved him off dismissively, ordering a light drink from Herrmann as you continued to talk to Kelly. The night was filled with flirtatious banter and the occasional longing glances. It was obvious to anyone that watched that there was obvious chemistry between the two of you, but neither of you cared if people were watching. You were both having fun, and that was all that mattered in that moment.
The one time he did...
“Do you think Shay would mind if I stayed the night? I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink” You mumbled somewhat sheepishly, as you trudged over from the kitchen into the living room where Kelly sat on the couch.
He chuckled, patting the cushion beside him for you to sit down. “Shay is staying over at some girl’s house tonight, so you can stay here as long as you want” He replied, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You hummed in content, snuggling further into him with a small giggle. “Okay good, I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway”.
“Then why ask?” Kelly scoffed, smiling down at you with an amused smile. You rolled your eyes lazily, looking up at him with a cheeky grin “Well I’ve been over enough times, and I haven’t spent the night here yet, so I thought maybe-”
Before you could finish your sentence, Kelly dipped down and captured your lips with his own. The kiss was gentle and passionate. Soft even, almost as if he was testing the waters a little. But as soon as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, that was all Kelly needed as a sign to continue. Moving you into a more comfortable position, Kelly hovered above you as he intensified the kiss, before quickly pulling away from you with a teasing smirk. “What do you say we take this upstairs?” He asled quietly, gesturing with his eyes to the ceiling and his bedroom above. You mimicked his expression, somehow managing to slip out from beneath him with an excited laugh. “Gladly!” You called out, before racing up the staircase ahead of him, and leaving Kelly to chase after you with a loud amused laugh.
#kelly severide x reader#kelly severide#kelly severide imagine#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire#chicago fire imagine#taylor kinney
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Tightrope-Dream
This is a self indulgent Dream x gn!reader in the dreamsmp that I was going to post a while ago but got to insecure about it to post. But now that I haven’t posted in a few days and I don’t know when I’ll get to write again, I decided to say f*** it and post it. So I hope you enjoy hahaha.
Based off of this song. Song lyrics are in bold.
Masterlist here
Y/N and Dream have been together for what feels like forever. But when Dream says that he cares about nothing anymore, Y/N takes a moment to evaluate the tightrope walk they call their relationship.
Y/N’s POV
“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” I heard Dream spit from behind an obsidian wall. “I do not give a fuck about Spirit. I don’t give a fuck about anything actually! All I care about is your discs. I care MORE about your discs than you do. That’s the only thing I care about on the server...” His words hit me like a brick. Dream didn’t care about anything. That means he doesn’t care about me… That can’t be true, right? We’ve been together since the beginning… Before the beginning! I was by his side when we made this server. I fought beside him in every single war, no matter how in the wrong I thought he was… When I would tell him what I thought he would simply brush me off. We used to make every decision together but lately it seems that I was just another obstacle in his way. Or maybe just another pawn in his game.
I came out of my daze to hear the end of Dream’s speech, maybe this part he’ll fix his wording… “Don’t try and threaten me. I don’t care. I have lost all care for anything on the server…” Well there goes that hope. I couldn’t help the sobs that fell from my mouth at his words. He doesn’t care for anything on the server… I’m on the server. George, Sapnap, Punz, Bad, all his friends were on the server. He doesn’t care about us.
Suddenly it was very quiet, I knew they had heard me. I took this opportunity to step out from behind the wall I was hiding behind. All eyes softened at the sight of me, Dream’s eyes softening the most. “Y/N” he tried, taking a few steps forward but I held out a hand to stop him, “Don’t. You don’t care about anything on this server… Remember?” I hissed, marching away from him, not even turning around when he called my name once more.
I was at a lost as to where to go. I couldn’t go home. Dream would be there soon enough. I couldn’t go to the community house, too many memories. I knew he would find me at a friend’s house. Besides I needed to be alone. I needed to be somewhere where I could look down and think about everything. Then it hit me and I couldn’t stop the laugh that made it past the tears. “The reverse coaster.”
When Tommy first built this contraption, everyone, myself included, called him crazy. Who would want to climb all the way up to the top of a track just to go down it again. Now I couldn’t help but be thankful that he had made this. The journey to the top took fifteen minutes, but it was worth it. I could see everything from here. It was beautiful. Walking the thin line while looking at the ground really made me think of a tightrope… A perfect analogy for my relationship with Dream right now. Dream…
Some people long for a life, simple and planned
Tied with a ribbon
Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land, to follow what's written
But I'd follow you to the great unknown
Off to a world we call our own
I was with Dream when he began the server. He had gotten tired living under someone else’s rule and wanted a place we could call our own. He convinced me… although it didn’t take much convincing, I would follow him anywhere. So one night we packed up what little we could carry and we left. We left into the unknown, not knowing where we were going. But we knew everything would be alright as long as we had each other.
Hand in my hand and we promised to never let go
We're walking a tightrope
High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below.
We're walking a tightrope
Never sure, never know how far we could fall
But it's all an adventure that comes with a breathtaking view
Walking a tightrope, with you
Through everything. I had always been Dream and I. For the longest time, you would never find one without the other. Our hands always seemed to interlocked. I guess it wasn’t until the first L’Manberg war when things started pulling us apart. We would stand on the obsidian walls that Dream and Sapnap had built around L’Manberg, just observing. Dream would constantly be making battle plans in his head and I was just there for moral support, I guess. We spent countless hours just watching the ‘hot dog stand’ waiting for someone to come out and make a move.
There were some nights where the scene was almost breathtaking. The walls were pretty high up, we could see a lot of the server. Everything was lit up beautifully. Building shined brightly and everything was warm and welcoming. It was perfect. I would try and get Dream to dance with me. The first few times he would agree and we would slow dance around the walls. But as battle drew nearer and nearer, we danced less and less until it stopped all together.
Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between. Desert and ocean.
You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream. Always in motion.
So I risk it all just to be with you
And I risk it all for this life we choose
Dream and I had fights. What couple didn’t? Dream would do something stupid and I would grill him about it but we always made up. We never went to bed angry. I never would let him leave home on adventure without a hug and a kiss goodbye. No matter how far he would travel, I always knew he would come home to me and that we loved each other. Being with Dream was… well a dream. We loved each other endlessly. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him and I knew the feeling was mutual.
I would risk everything to be with him. Leaving the safety of one server to begin another? No problem. Fight in a war where he was on the ‘bad side’? Anything for my baby. I would give my life if it meant Dream lived. I used to know the feeling was mutual…
Hand in my hand and you promised to never let go
We're walking a tightrope
High in the sky. We can see the whole world down below
We're walking a tightrope
Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?
I never had to worry. I knew that Dream was right there beside me. Always one step ahead. Filling in cracks and gaps in Prime Path so I wouldn’t trip and fall. Checking in on my mental health so I wouldn’t fall into a panic attack or into a depression. I always knew he would catch me, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I could trust him to be there for me. Now I’m not so sure.
Well, it's all an adventure
That comes with a breathtaking view
Walking a tightrope
With you
Loving Dream. Being with Dream. Giving everything to Dream was and always has been an adventure. Many times it took me to new heights. Let me see things I had never seen before, leaving me breathless. I was balancing on a tightrope and he was right behind me, making sure I was okay, that I was safe. He would make sure I knew how much he cared for me. How much he loved me.
These thoughts just swirled in my head. I sat down, my legs dangling over the cobblestone as I stared at the ground. What do I do from here? Dream says he doesn’t care about me anymore. For as long as I could remember, my whole life had revolved around Dream. Doing whatever he needed, being who he needed me to be. Given, he did the same thing for me. Where do I go from here?
“Y/N!” A voice shouted from below, breaking me from my concentration. My eyes scanned the ground to find that familiar green hoodie. “What are you doing up there?” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, “Why do you care?” I shouted back. There was a moment of silence before he responded, “Come down! I want to talk,” Dream called. I watched as he placed a water bucket and motioned for me to jump down. I hesitated for a moment… Did I trust him? There’s only one way to find out.
I took a deep breath before allowing myself to fall from the top of the reverse coaster. I couldn’t help but let out a giggle as the water cradled me securing me a safe landing. I quickly realized why I had jumped down in the first place and stood up to face Dream, looking down at the ground. “I’m here… What do you want?” I questioned harshly. “I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to apologize and explain myself,” He answered, trying to get me to look at him. I refused and remained silent, motioning for him to go on.
“I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I didn’t. I care about you so much Y/N. Tommy just gets me so worked up sometimes and I just speak without thinking. I love you and care for you. You know that!” Dream exclaimed, reaching out to try and grab my hands. I quickly pulled them away and snapped my eyes to his, “Do I?” I barked, causing Dream to flinch at my tone. “Do I know that you love me? That you care for me? Do I? Because lately it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it,” I snapped, all my feelings radiating off of me. “We used to do everything together. Make every decision together. We would walk the tightrope together, but lately it just feels like you’ve let me hung out to dry.”
Dream gaped at me, “I didn’t know you felt this way,” He murmured, moving toward me once more. And once again, I moved and scoffed, “That’s because you’ve been too caught up in your big scheme Dream. You’ve been using me as another pawn.” Dream began to protest but I held up a finger to cut him off, “Don’t even try to deny it. You come to me and ask me for something and once I do it, you toss me aside, only coming back when you need something. And I’m sick of it, Dream.”
Dream was silent as he thought about everything. “You’re right,” He spoke after a few moments of silence. “You are absolutely right. I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve been horrible to everyone… I’m so sorry.” Tears began to leak from Dream’s face as he spoke. “Please, give me another chance. I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I’ll be the man that you want, the one you need. Please.” He begged, reaching out to grab my hands. This time I let him grab a hold of them and hang on.
“It’s going to take some time. The damage you’ve done it too great to fix with a simple apology. You’re going to have to work hard to prove to me that you’ve changed,” I explained, looking deep into Dream’s beautiful green eyes. He nodded quickly, “I will. As long as it takes.” Dream leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. “I love you so much Y/N” He murmured into my ear. “I love you too Dream. Always have, always will.”
Hope you enjoyed. If so be sure to leave a like, maybe even a reply or a reblog. Like I said I’m pretty insecure about this piece so I would love to know what you think.
#mcyt#mcyt imagine#ray-ray-writings#mcyt x reader#mcyt one shot#dream smp#dreamsmp#dream#dream one shot#dream x reader#dreamwastaken imagine#dreamwastaken#dreamwastaken x reader#dream imagine#self indulgent#tightrope
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Eighteen | T. Holland
Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.
Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint
Word Count → 1.9k
Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs.
add yourself to my taglist
It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot.
Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual.
The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort.
Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize.
“Y/N.”
You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod.
He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth.
“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel.
“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--”
He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl.
“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips.
Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart.
You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door.
“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises.
The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating.
He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing.
“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget.
“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.”
Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting.
You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth.
“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,”
You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this.
“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress.
You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it.
Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend.
“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.”
“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them.
Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs.
“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such.
Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy.
“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”
You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.
Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.”
You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now.
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#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan fic#anthony mackie#anthony mackie x reader#sebastian stan x reader#anthony mackie fic#tom holland angst#tom holland fluff#tom holland x actress!reader#chris evans#robert downey jr
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After seeing your marriage hc’s I’d like to request hc’s of Hawks, Aizawa, Bakugo, and Shinsou reacting to their wife’s water breaking prematurely and at random. Mainly like everyone’s at a party and having a good time and suddenly someone’s like “Y/N, did you spill something?” Y/N:*doesn’t have a drink on her so she’s confused until she looks down and realizes what happened* OH-
💀💀💀💀 ok but all these guys' babies coming out whenever they foken want is a headcanon by itself, like we all know they'd be like their fathers coming and going whenever they feel like and that kills me akjdksjsj this ask made me laugh so hard but omg i felt the embarrassment when writing, send help I—
Hawks:
× your due date was approaching quickly and Hawks was so attentive it hurt
× you had to insist to go out with you friends because bird-brain was getting very worried/protective
× you finally came to an agreement: lowkey party at your house BUT you're not moving a finger
× like you could; Keigo would jump up and grab anything for you and for everyone else
× the good thing is that you ordered takeout and your friends brought goodies, much like Hawks himself so you just sat and talked with everyone while he looked at you with stars in his eyes
× everyone was talking about your future baby and just celebrating the new life about to come around and I swear, this man's feathers puffed proudly every single time
× you had such a great time, enjoying the laughter and good energy you were surrounded by when you got thirsty
× Keigo was in the kitchen, his feathers bringing some sweets for everyone in the living room so you got up [ struggled to ] and headed towards his direction
× Mirko was the one that pointed it out as she was assigned the duty to follow you around [ while she made fun of Keigo for being a mama hen but ok ]
× "Hey, [Y/N], did you drop something on you...?"
× you couldn't even see bc of your belly but you definitely heard a crash in the kitchen and some rushed steps
× as fast as humanly possible, your husband was by your side wide eyed
× "What happened?" he asked trying to be casual but his eyes roamed over you until they landed under your feet...
× "I didn't drop anything, I just wanted some water—"
× "You should have told me, birdie. Wait... Where did you get the water then?"
× "I didn't...?"
× everyone kinda stared confused until one of your friends started panicking because the heroes there were just confused???
× "Wait, you broke waters!"
× "oh, right" you mutter while honey colored eyes stare at you in shock
× how did you both forget about that? you talked about it some days ago, like—
× Panic! Hidden by a casual attitude
× meanwhile now you're embarrassed because what the hell, mini-bird?
× he orders his feathers to clean around but fails miserably while trying to grab clothes for your hospital stay
× your friends have to calm him down as they offered to help clean up and you're just embarrassed because c'mon, man
× i swear, this man does it in a rush anyway and asks everyone to keep calm [ 🙄 ] while he takes his little angel to the hospital
× car ride? lmfao have fun flying, this is an eMeRgEnCy [ trust me, you're always safe with him, no doubt of that ]
× you try to open your mouth but he's just reassuring you; "You're doing amazing, angel."; "Just a little longer and we're there!"; meanwhile you haven't fucking changed your wet clothes and were getting annoyed
× bursts into the hospital like he owns it
× guess who's sent back home and told to come back when the contraptions get stronger? mhm.
× you almost smack him bc he literally gave you no time to talk once you're back at home
× he's a dumb bird but he's your dumb bird 💕
× [ your friends stayed to clean up the dishes just to easen your burden so you find them there when you come back. they had a great time laughing at your husband before they left you with the promise they'll visit asap at the hospital ]
× honestly he's normally very calm and calculating but this time around the nervousness of being a father got to him, so please forgive him
Aizawa Shouta:
× the most chill of them all and that's very reassuring for someone who is pregnant
× you've promised him you'd take things easy and not force yourself to do much
× and even if you wanted to, honestly you couldn't
× but he's been such an amazing person to you, made you lunches, gave you back massages, did all the tough tasks around the house 🥺 so when he forgot his lunch at home, rare of him, you wanted to surprise him, completely forgetting the school had one of the best chef in the world;;;
× your body was screaming for some fresh air too so you decided to go towards U.A.
× it wasn't a long walk, really, since he had to be close to the school anyway
× so when you arrived at mid-day the first person to greet you was principal Nezu and trust me, he was so excited to see you after so long!
× he accompanied you to the teachers' room where they had all their desks already knowing he would be there shortly
× you greet All Might, which beamed to see you and started a small conversation
× the bell rang, indicated class finished and lunchbreak starter which made you excited to know you'll see your husband shortly
× and you knew he was approaching when a loud voice could be heard on the hallways
× the door opened, Shouta and Yamada walking in, the blond talking excitedly until it stopped
× "[Y/N], so good to see you!" He screamed
× Shouta's eyes snapped towards you in surprise and he walked to you in a faster pace than before
× he ignored everyone else as he scolded you "Didn't we agree you'd take it easy?"
× "Well, good to see you too" 😒😤
× a quick banter takes over you two as you hugged Hizashi and handled your husband his lunch
× "You should sit down" Nezu suggested and you started to feel the ache of walking, so you moved towards one of the chairs with Aizawa's help
× "Seriously, you're more stubborn than my students" he'd mutter, nudging your shoulder slightly, all through a smile
× but before you could reach the chair you felt it, the water running from between your legs;;;
× you gripped his hand harshly and Hizashi screamed
× "What tHe HeLL diD I STEP ON?!???"
× the mf was following you two suggesting to eat lunch together and?????
× ok, so everyone freezes until Nezu clears his throat;;;
× "I'll call Chiyo, you two wait right here!" he escapes, All Might somehow on his toes
× you turn your head towards Aizawa horrified about to suggest cleaning the mess up before getting ready to leave when...
× "WAIT, I STEPPED ON BABY JUICE!?"
× Recovery Girl came around but was pleased to know both of you were prepared for this moment, although she did have to wake Hizashi up, since he fainted; Shouta, being the big boy he is, cleaned the floor without making a big deal out of it
× at the end of the day all you could do was smile before realizing what's about to come; your baby will be surrounded by amazing people and it's all that mattered
Bakugou Katsuki:
× this guy prepares in secret; don't question all the baby books you find sneaked around the house like it's not your damned home too but whatever;;;
× Bakugou is very protective over you, he also takes charge of everything, which makes you feel bad bc you seriously feel like you can't do anything anymore
× it happened at the Bakugou household [ your in laws excitedly invited you over the phone but also suggested that they could drop by if you weren't in conditions to go there ]
× you put your foot down and said you would, knowing it would freak your husband out and guess what? it did
× but you really wanted to go out, you felt extremely bored and babied at home and were in need of social interactions
× "I swear I married the most stubborn dumbass ever—" he'd mutter as he drove you both there
× dinner was amazing, as always, and Mitsuki was making it even better by telling you funny stories from Katsuki's childhood, earning scoffs from him
× the normal arguments started and you were gently escorted by Masaru to the living room, both ignoring the banter happening by the dining table
× he joked around with you when you felt a kick saying he can definitely tell who the kid will take from, as if your baby wanted to participate in the argument too
× anyway you stopped mid-track saying you wanted to go to the bathroom; you really felt like going all of a sudden
× when you started heading towards there [ Katsuki chiming in asking if you need help, wtf ], you knew
× i mean, everyone knew;; your water broke, but want to know what else broke too? hell. hell broke loose
× "What are you staring at?! Go help [Y/N]!"
× "I know, old hag!" He rushed to you as Mitsuki went to grab some cleaning supplies
× you're apologizing profusely but you're brushed off instantly
× "No big deal, [Y/N], everything will be okay" Masaru, bless him, was by your side as his son went to grab the bag he has prepared in secret from the car
× you ended up going all together to the hospital as contraptions increased
× Katsuki was on your side reciting word by word what's going to happen, remembering the parenting books by memory; it was making you roll your eyes at them because yes, you knew;
× "Did you fucking tell her to push?" Mitsuki screamed
× "I—! SHUT THE TELL UP!" he screamed back then turned to you, telling you to breathe to just freeze in place
× both shut up as you glared at them;
× it seems the new Bakugou member really wanted to take part of the argument for before 💀
Hitoshi Shinsou:
× life was finally settling between you two
× his career, even if it was focused underground, was rocketing up, he was married to an amazing person and you were having a beautiful baby together? Shinsou was a happy man
× you both talked about how to deal when time comes and everything was settled, you even had a suitcase ready for the hospital stay
× he was so attentive 🥺
× anyway your friends suggested to see you before the big day comes and you agreed it had to be now because as your due day approached, you wanted to be home
× so you went to a small restaurant near your house to meet Izuku, Uraraka and Denki, as the days before you met your families and other friends
× Ochako got you an insane amount of gifts, Izuku was reading about parenthood idk why 💀 and Denki was just patting Shinsou's back congratulating him again and again
× you had a great time to say at least
× you snorted at Denki when he touched your belly and got a kick in response
× "Just like his father, ready to put you in place" Uraraka smiled, patting the blond on the back whike Shinsou grabbed your hand with a smirk
× but you froze in place as you smiled back because you felt it
× and dripping water could be heard
× did you just—?
× Shinsou caught on instantly on your discomfort and talked even before you could
× "What's wrong?" while you looked down, which his gaze followed
× Ok, this man is gonna stop functioning for a second, it is what it is
× meanwhile you're mortified because YOU'RE IN A RESTAURANT, YOU'RE REGULARS HERE AND YOU FUCKING BROKE WATERS HERE
× you got up in a rush yet he's faster
× everyone catches up and they all start to be frantic [ specially poor Denki ]
× the old lady that owns the restaurant comes by and has to be the one to calm the group while you apologize profusely
× she shushes you saying she's had four children, she understands completely
× Shinsou offers to help clean up, so do you, Izuku is startled in a corner being comforted by the brunette and Denki... he's fucking calling an ambulance—?????? Good thing your husband grabbed his phone before he started talking...
× but at the end you're both reassured everything is taken care of as long as you promise to bring the bundle of sunshine around the restaurant as soon as possible
× you're definitely not crying;;;
× anyway he just takes you home and helps you start taking note of the contraptions while getting everything ready to go
× honestly you were scared and so was he, but he stood by your side all the time whispering how amazing you're doing
× the restaurant owners greeted you like you were family afterwards so it's all water under the bridge— k I'll leave 💀
#aizawa shouta x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#keigo takami x reader#hawks x reader#hitoshi shinsou x reader#boku no hero academia#bnha#mha#noire writes#bnha headcanons#bakugou x reader
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Brain: this is your first day off in weeks you have things to do
Also brain: angst fic angst fic angst fic—
Qui-Gon did not draw his lightsaber. Not yet. It wasn’t safe yet, it wasn’t necessary, either.
Words would do, for now.
He kept his hands safely by his sides as he examined the man across from him — the one holding Obi-Wan tightly to his chest, the boy’s hands bound behind him, a mess of bruises already blossoming darkly across his face and neck.
“There is no need for this,” said Qui-Gon. He infused his voice with all the serenity he could summon, long familiar with its ability to charm and to soothe. “Let the boy go. He’s done you no harm.”
“No,” the man agreed, his voice a contrast, all panicked breaths and strained tension. A cord about to snap. “But you have. You will.”
A warning was now required.
Qui-Gon’s hand drifted slowly to his saber hilt, though his expression remained calm, his blue eyes steady.
The man stiffened, and the hand holding the blaster at Obi-Wan’s shoulder shifted sharply. The weapon was now pressed against the boy’s skull, no doubt cold against the soft hollow behind his ear, and very shakily, too.
One wrong move, one push too far, and —
“Then talk to me,” Qui-Gon said, enforcing his tone with a hint of steel, placing just a touch of inflection on the word ‘me.’
Me, not him.
“I am talking to you!” the man shouted. The blaster shook harder, and he shoved it deeper into Obi-Wan’s skin.
The boy let out a muffled cry, a small sound he bit back almost before it was out, but it was still heard.
His captor tightened his iron grip around the Padawan’s waist, and Qui-Gon slipped his saber free from his hilt, keeping it unlit and held loosely in his hand.
Moves. Countermoves. Actions and reactions.
Obi-Wan’s life on the line.
And beyond that, the fate of the mission, but — one step at a time.
He can’t see past the first step right now.
He’s frightened he’ll miss it, that his foot will slip, and—
All these years of training, of curving his tongue for diplomacy, of learning the rules so thoroughly that he no longer considers them as anything but a baseline, a place to begin and then break away from, and this feels like where everything has been leading to.
Everything.
Qui-Gon’s apprenticeship with a hard man, an inscrutable man, an intelligent and able teacher. His love for his first apprentice, and the anguish that followed Xanatos’ betrayal. The lonely missions, the solo traveling of the universe, and then a spark of light in the form of a small, stubborn boy who saw straight through him.
Now this person, unnamed and unknown, who had stolen his apprentice from the rooms where he had been meant to be resting peacefully, preparing for another day of learning.
“We can talk,” Qui-Gon said. “I give you my word, you will have my full attention, as much time as you need. I will not trick you. Just let my apprentice walk free.”
“You only listen to the politicians, not the people!” the man hurled back, his voice rising almost hysterically. “What about us?”
This was false. Qui-Gon had spent an inordinate, almost diplomatically inappropriate amount of time amongst the civilians, talking to them, listening, learning — this man was a radical, and he was angry.
Apparently he couldn’t shove the blaster any deeper into Obi-Wan’s head, so he squeezed his gauntleted arm brutally under his ribs, lifting the youth off the ground, and Obi-Wan gasped, bucking in the cruel grip instinctively, his wide eyes searching frantically for Qui-Gon’s. The Master reassured him at a glance.
Obi-Wan settled.
“I’m listening,” Qui-Gon said. “Turn my apprentice over to me, and I will continue to listen. But I warn you, delay any longer and I will be forced to stop listening.”
“You’ll listen,” the man panted. “You’ll listen if I have your boy, you won’t have a choice. He’s your responsibility, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Qui-Gon replied in a low tone. “Release him. Now.”
“Master—” Obi-Wan tried to say, but the man holding him jerked his arm harshly into his abdomen again, and he broke off as the air was punched from his lungs.
“Take your hands off my Padawan or there will be no discussion,” said Qui-Gon, and his thumb ignited his green blade with the tiniest motion. Power hummed in his hands. Power to kill, power to protect, power he has learned to control and make harmony with over decades of practice.
“You’re still not listening!”
The man’s grip shifted on the handle of his blaster, and Qui-Gon acted at once, plunging his will deep into the Force and tugging the weapon away so quickly that even he hardly saw it happen. The blaster clattered harmlessly in a corner, and Obi-Wan struggled, throwing his weight forward and kicking his foot deliberately between his captor’s legs. The kick landed, but before he could get away properly he was grabbed again.
The man’s hands scrabbled in thin air and then caught Obi-Wan by the neck, and his face contorted in an expression of desperation and fury. One hand moved to the boy’s jaw, and the other to his skull—
“No!” Qui-Gon cried, pulling again just as Obi-Wan, sensing his impending fate, looked to him in shock.
A blur of motion, a cry, and the unknown man went crashing into the wall, and Obi-Wan fell into Qui-Gon’s extended arm.
Qui-Gon drew him into his chest immediately, reassuring himself that the boy was alive, still breathing, and watched the now unconscious criminal warily, still stunned at the violence of his last, aborted action.
“Master,” Obi-Wan muttered against his tunics.
“It wasn’t your fault, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said firmly, feeling the boy’s head shift against his chest, felt his soft red hair brushing his beard. “The mission isn’t compromised. You did well.”
“Master...”
Qui-Gon pushed the boy’s shoulder a little, trying to step back and look at his face, but Obi-Wan sagged against him, his voice slurred. “Master... I’m sorry... I tried to tell you. I should’ve said it. I...”
“What?” asked the Jedi, his eyebrows drawing together in concern and confusion. “What happened?”
“You... you didn’t have to bargain...” Obi-Wan said, still mumbling into his tunics. Still slumped against him. “I’m glad he didn’t... extract any promises from you. For nothing.”
“For—?” Qui-Gon shook his head, bewildered, and looked down to unbind the boy’s hands.
First he saw the rope, biting deep into the soft flesh of the slender wrists, the burns blistering beneath.
Then, as his own hand moved down to touch the knots, he saw something else.
His stomach turned over so sharply that he felt lightheaded.
Like missing the last step on a flight of stairs.
His foot had slipped.
“Obi-Wan— what is this?” he asked, voice turning upwards in a question that did not need to be asked. “What is — when did this — no.”
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan murmured, sinking further into the one-armed hold that was now all that was keeping his small frame upright. “He didn’t mean to. I fought him too hard. He was desperate to make you negotiate, he needed to bargain... quickly...”
The desperation. The panic. The way he had kept cutting off his hostage’s speech, keeping him pinned against his chest.
Because his hostage had a growing red stain spreading steadily down his back.
“No,” Qui-Gon repeated, putting both arms around his apprentice, careful not to touch the blood, not to touch its source, the gape in the tunics halfway down his back. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan whispered.
“You need healers—” Qui-Gon moved to walk his Padawan swiftly from the room, but Obi-Wan collapsed, dragging them both to the floor in a tangle of robes and limbs, his small face coming to rest against his Master’s collarbone, faint breaths puffing unevenly against his skin.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan echoed. “I’m sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have...”
“You did everything right, I swear it,” Qui-Gon rebutted. “I have to carry you, it will hurt but I have to carry you.”
“I don’t want to be carried,” Obi-Wan mumbled, his words slurring together. “It’s too cold. Can I... can I borrow your cloak? It’s cold. Where’s my cloak?”
“It’s in our rooms.” Qui-Gon staggered to his feet, feeling like he was still falling, still slipping past that last step with nothing to catch his descent. “We have to see the healers first. They’ll warm you up. It will be all right.”
He ran, feeling hot liquid staining his sleeves.
Too much. Too quickly.
How had he not noticed, how had he not guessed—?
Obi-Wan moaned uncomfortably, twisting in his arms, and more hot blood coated Qui-Gon’s hands.
“Hurts,” his Padawan whispered faintly. “Where’s the cloak?”
“I’ll find it for you,” Qui-Gon promised.
“Okay,” Obi-Wan said simply, his voice too young, and too trusting.
He rested his head against his Master’s chest, his forehead bumping against it in time with the thundering strides Qui-Gon was taking, sprinting through the deserted halls, leaving red stains in his wake.
And then Obi-Wan sighed, coughed wetly, and went utterly limp, his body growing so very heavy in his Master’s arms, his head lolling away, dangling helplessly over the crook of one arm.
Qui-Gon’s foot slipped.
He crashed to the ground and held Obi-Wan to his chest. His knees collided painfully with stone.
Something inside him broke and slipped away and fell down, down, down, and he tumbled after it, seeking something that was never coming back.
(He waited just long enough to watch his boy burn on the pyre.)
(And then he Fell the rest of the way down, down, down...)
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#star wars#my writing#star wars fic#obi wan kenobi#qui gon jinn#obi wan and qui gon#master and padawan#angst#tw character death#tw blood
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Pink lady
Note - For the lovely @lielullabyes 500 followers challenge! Congrats babe🥰🥰
And for @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18s challenge and birthday! I'm sorry I'm a bit late! Hope y'all like it❤❤
Summary - You try to convince your professor to give you a better grade.
Warnings - smut, age gap, professor/student relationship, deep throating, cock warming.
Prompts - professor!character x student!reader for snow
Gif prompt + your professor has a different kind of extra credit in mind for navy and siri
Pairing - Andy Barber x reader
Word count - almost 4k
Masterlist is linked in the bio!
You closed your eyes rubbing them to sooth the dryness. You had a long day and getting anything through your thick skull was turning out to be a challenge.
Of course it would. You were never an amazing student. You just studied the night before the exam and cramped whatever you could, writing what you remember on the test the next day. And yeah it wasn’t the most ideal way to study but it had worked so far for you. You got by alright.
It was more of all the shitty professors you’ve ever had than your fault. None of them could ever get you really interested in their subjects. They either didn’t care enough or only knew how to abuse their power.
But then he walked into your class. He was pretty enough to be a model or an actor. You just assumed he was someone famous. You felt as if you’ve met him before, as if you’ve known him your whole life. You were shocked to hear he was your new criminology professor, along with being a DA. Which has to be a demanding job.
It was impossible to not listen to him when he spoke, his voice so smooth like honey, carrying hints of a Boston accent he let slip whenever he got too passionate, which was quiet often.
He had broad shoulders and thick biceps he hit under those expensive suits and dress shirts. But it was more than that. He acted as if he cared. About his students, about the things he was teaching you. He always encouraged questions and helped everyone with their doubts. He had you on the edge of your seat with every word he said.
He even knew all the students by their names. Well... everyone except you.
You never interacted much in your classes, too afraid to make a fool of yourself in front of your dream man. So you had decided to buckle down and study as much as you can so you can finally raise your hand when he asked a question. How amazing it would be to hear him say ‘Good job' to you.
Maybe it isn’t classy to harbor such sinful thoughts about your professor. But the way his pants stretched over his round butt, hugging his long legs and creasing as he leaned against the edge of his table, his thick dark beard framing his face so perfectly, was just so mesmerizing. He was sex on legs. Were you really to blame here?
You had made sure to get to class ten minutes early so you could sit on the first bench. To get a close up look at the show. He was talking about something, you couldn’t really focus on. Your eyes stuck to his crotch, and how you could clearly see the imprint of his...
“Shit” You whispered as you heard him call out your surname, suddenly realising that he had his eyes on you.
“What do you think?” He asked.
“Wh – I – don’t really think a lot.” You stammered “I’m sorry what was the question?” You cringed at yourself.
“Try to pay attention next time.” He scolded you as you cowered under his intense gaze, his lips set in a hard line as he went back to addressing the whole class and resuming his lecture.
He didn’t even spare a look at you the rest of the class. You had to keep your tears at bay. It would’ve been better if you were invisible to him. Anything would be better than being publicly humiliated like that.
You decided then and there that you don’t like him. Sure you weren’t paying attention but how dare he point that out? He would never do that to anyone else. What the fuck did he have against you.
Nope. You were going to hate him now and bear him till the end of the semester. But then, all your resolve went out the window as soon as he turned around to write something on the board, giving everyone a nice view of his 'cute bubble butt'. At least that’s what you heard someone else call it. Although the kind of feelings it gave you were anything but cute.
After two long torturous hours the class was dismissed. You scrambled to pack up your bag. You were about to leave your, but body stopped of its own accord when you heard him call out your surname again. Sending shivers down your spine. You took a deep breathe turning around to look at him, your mouth suddenly dry and your hands clammy and sweaty.
“Yes professor Barber?” You asked as you stood a few feet away from him, staring at his shoes as if they were the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. You could not look at his face. You would melt on spot and make an idiot of yourself, again.
You cursed as he walked towards you standing just in front. You had never been so close to him before, you could smell his musky cologne, feel his hot breath on your forehead.
“Don’t you think it’s rude to not look at your professor when speaking to him?” He asked cocking his head.
He couldn’t but feel proud and satisfied as you complied so easily, looking up at him. The tip of your tongue peaked out to lick your lip before your lower lip was caught in your teeth as you chewed harshly on it. A very distracting habit of yours. He really had to resist the urge to groan.
He wondered if you knew you were so cruelly teasing him or if you were as oblivious as you seemed to be.
He was excited when he was offered a position to be a teacher, a chance to shape young minds. To make a larger difference in the world. He stayed up all night preparing for his first lecture. He was always thorough with his work. He had made up his mind to do his best and be a good teacher.
But he knew he was ruined as soon as his eyes landed on you.
He wasn’t one for making friends. Always having trouble trusting people. Especially in his profession. It wasn’t that he was shy. He hated small talk and just didn’t have a lot to say, unless he was in a courtroom, even if he did he wasn’t always sure how he should say it.
But when he and his colleagues had a win on a particularly hard case, bringing down a huge mob after working tirelessly for over 3 months, he agreed to go out for drinks to celebrate. He did need to wind down a bit. When he wasn’t at the office he was at home either working or sleeping.
He was sitting on the bar stool with Henry the paralegal he had come to like the guy. He had been a huge help with the case. Henry was going on about his daughters biology project when Andy felt a tap on his shoulder he looked over his shoulder before turning around to get a proper you.
There you stood, leaning against the bar with a dopey grin on your face. He couldn’t help but do you a once over, looking you up and down, you were wearing a hot pink dress that hugged your waist before flaring over your hips. He smiled at your cute kitten heels with small white bows on them. You looked so beautiful, your hair tied up in a high ponytail as curls framed your sweet face.
“Hello mister businessman mister!” You giggled before covering your mouth as you let out a hiccup. “Oops excuse me.”
“I’m not a businessman.” He smiled shaking his head.
“Well you sure do look like one!” you laughed weakly punching his bicep “Oh my gosh” You gulped pressing his bicep in your palm “You must work out.”
“I dabble here and there.” He said waving it off as if it wasn’t a big deal “Can I buy you a drink? Are you old enough to be here?” He wondered.
“I’ll have you know I’m more than old enough” You said proudly. Normally, he would never even consider flirting with someone who looked so young, but for some reason he just couldn’t stop. “Yes I will have a drink. Wait no! No I won’t!” You gasped.
“That’s probably a good idea. You seemed to have had plenty. How about a coffee?” He offered.
“Nope I’m fine. I’m here for my friend Stacey. She likes you.” You drawled out moving your hips side to side dancing to a tune stuck in your head.
“And you don’t like me?” He pouted.
“Noooo” You whined cupping his beard in your hands. He kept pouting to milk some more sympathy from you but was completely taken aback when you pressed your soft cushiony lips over his. You pulled back staring into his eyes and said “I like you a lot! But sisters before misters you know. I couldn’t do that to my friend.” And now you were the one pouting.
He heard Henry clear his throat behind him “I’ll just go on home then. See you tomorrow man.” Andy couldn’t be bothered to turn around to say goodbye, his eyes completely focused on you.
“Oh no your friend left. Whatever you’re going home with Stacey anyway.” You looked around for your friend “Where is she? Oh no! She’s not here.”
Andy frowned looking around the bar with you “Don’t worry she must be in the bathroom or something. Why don’t you try calling her?”
You whipped out your phone from your bag. Your lips starting quivering and eyes turned glossy as you looked at it. “Hey what happened?” His instincts screaming at him to sooth your panic state. He just ran his hand up and down your forearm, there wasn’t much else he could do without seeming like a creep.
“My friend left! She said she went home with a wall street guy. Left me all alone.”
He frowned at that. “Your friend doesn’t deserve you.” He stated as if he knew you. He didn’t but he knew how loyal you were to your friend when you turned him down. Who would abandon such a sweet thing like you?
“And we were gonna go to dinner and everything.” You sniffled “I’ll have to walk home now.”
“No you won’t.” He blurted clenching his jaw. He knew just how bad men could be. He would never let a clearly inebriated woman go home alone.
Sure in any other case he would’ve called or even paid for an taxi. But he couldn’t say goodbye to you just yet. So he offered to take you home. And with some convincing you agreed.
He secured you into the passenger seat before putting your address in the GPS. He found himself laughing more than he ever had at your incoherent drunken ramblings.
“Do you believe in aliens?” Before he could even answer you continued “What if this is all just a simulation. By aliens. Like what if we’re in a tv show. That’d be awesome.” You leaned against the window, closing your eyes.
“Are you this funny when you’re sober?” He wanted to know. Although he had an inkling that you definitely would be.
“Yes I am! But my friends tell me I talk too much.” You said scrunching up your nose.
“I could listen to you talk all night. But I think we’re here.” He said parking across a building. “is this it?”
“Yeah” You nodded. “You’re right dude. They don’t deserve me.”
“Don’t call me dude.” He grumbled. You call your friends ‘dude’. And he had no intentions of being just a friend to you.
“Fine dude” You chuckled. “Do you have a pen?” You asked.
“Uh I think” He felt his pockets and then pulled out a fountain pen he always carried around with him.
You took it from him and shook your head. “You business men and your pens” You snatched his arm and started writing something on his palm.
“I keep telling you I’m not a business man.” He argued.
His heart swelled with giddiness as he saw you write down numbers on his open palm.
“Call me if you wanna hear me talk some more, ‘night.” You struggled to open the door before stumbling out. He made sure you got inside your building safely before he entered your number in his phone. He didn’t ask your name, too caught up in your rant about women’s jeans not having pockets. So he just saved it as ‘pink lady’.
He was so excited to hear from you again that he called you the next morning. Only you had given him the wrong number. He didn’t know if it was a mistake or if you had just lead him on. He considered maybe ‘accidentally’ bumping into you near your apartment. But then he saw you. In his class, as his student.
You didn’t seem to remember him but obviously had a crush on him. You weren’t such a confident talker without the influence of alcohol, the one time he asked you what your name was you just replied with ‘I’ve never had one.’ Which was adorable but also infuriating.
Was he so damn forgettable? How did you manage to do such a number on him, so much so that you haunted his wet dreams, but you had completely forgotten about him and the whole encounter. Going about your merry life, your mind not plagued with such unprofessional and unethical thoughts.
He wanted to know you. To hear you ramble some more or be awkward. Literally anything but the cold shoulder you were giving him. So he did a bad thing. He called you out when you were clearly too busy ogling him. He revelled in the sick pleasure he got from embarrassing you.
“Why don’t we go talk in my office?” He suggested and collected his books without waiting for your answer. You both made your way over to his office, you following a few steps behind him. “After you.” He said as he held the door open for you.
He locked the little latch as he closed the door, instructing you to take a seat. He wasn’t sure why he had called you over. It wasn’t like he could actually act on his feelings. Or ask you if you remembered him at all. It would be out of the question. He would get fired from the university, his reputation would be tarnished.
He took a seat at his desk shuffling through the papers in his drawer and brought one out on the desk.
He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he took in your demure state. How you had made yourself so small across him. He decided then. He couldn’t possibly not do anything about his feelings. Once his mind was set on something he HAS to have it.
Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to simply bend you over the desk and take you in the most primal way possible. But he could wait. In just a few months you would graduate and he would ask you out. There was a possibility that you would turn him down. Again. But he’d take his chances and get what he wanted. He always did.
“Your grades aren’t doing so well Miss L/N” He said passing the paper over to you. “It’s a C. You barely passed. If you don’t get a B or up in your next exam you won’t pass my class.” As much as he loved seeing you everyday he needed you to graduate so he could have his way with you.
“Oh” You let out as you looked at the test.
“That’s all you have to say? What’s wrong? Do you not understand my teaching?” To which you shook your head no “Maybe you should focus on your studies before going to clubs and getting drunk.” He spit leaning back in his chair. He knew he was being harsh, but he also knew that you needed some tough love.
“I – clubs?” You looked up at him and frowned “I don’t go to clubs! How would you know anyway?”
“Oh so you don’t remember.” He sneered not taking too kindly to being forgotten so easily. “January’s last Thursday. You were wearing a pink dress.”
You looked as if you were in deep thought before your eyes widened almost popping out of their sockets. “Oh my god! You’re that business man!” You gasped.
“Listen closely. Because I won’t say it again. I’m not a business man. I’m a district attorney and your professor.” He said sternly as he threw his head back loosening his tie so frustrated with you. He’d have to be patient. Something he very obviously wasn’t. It’s alright. You were worth waiting for.
“Sorry” You mumbled half heartedly. You knew you remembered him from somewhere. You thought you had dreamt of meeting a handsome and charming business man. Apparently you were wrong. “Why am I here professor Barber?” You asked.
“I told you. You need to get your grades up.”
“Yeah but I’m sure many other students must’ve gotten a C or lower as well. Why are you so concerned with me? What’s so special about me?” You spit with an accusatory tone.
“I care about all my students.” It wasn’t a lie. He did. He just cared about you a little bit more.
“Uh – huh. Then why did you lock the door?”
“I didn’t want anyone to disturb us.” He cleared his throat as he sat up straight in his seat.
“Sure.” You rolled your eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“Why? What are you gonna do about it?” You asked before exaggeratedly rolling them again.
He scoffed “You’re such a brat.” He shook his head. “I’ll have you straightened up in less than a week when you’re mine.”
You hummed at that. “In your dreams old man.”
“You’ll see sweetheart. I just have to wait till June.”
“Well how about you can have a little taste now? I can give you something if you can change my grade.” You offered biting your lips again.
He groaned at the tempting offer and sight “There’s nothing you can give me that will change my mind.”
“Isn’t there?” You got up and walked around the desk to him, exaggeratedly swaying your hips.
He moved in his chair to look at you kneeling between his legs. Rubbing your hands on his thighs.
“I’m sure I can change your mind.” You said confidently as you undid his buckle and pulled down his zipper.
“I doubt it.” A thought of maybe stopping you as you took his hard cock out of his briefs came to him. But then you looked at his length with such awe, as if you were admiring it.
“You like it?” He smirked.
You could only nod your head and try your best to not drool. “It’s the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You admitted. It was also the biggest, his rosy mushroom head slippery with precum, couple of blue veins adorning his thick shaft. You could wait to suck the life out of him.
“How many dicks have you seen?” He frowned. He didn’t really liking you thinking about anyone else’s dick, not when his was right in front of you. “Never mind. Finish what you started.” His impatience took over him as he pushed your head down, forcing you to open your mouth and swallow him whole. He moaned at the feeling of your warm wet mouth wrapped around him. “Relax your throat.” He ordered as he pushed deeper into you.
Sighing deeply as his tip hit the back of your throat, groaning as you choked around him before swallowing. “That’s it good girl.” He praised caressing your jaw. Rubbing away the tears cascading down your cheeks.
He pulled some papers out of his bag as your raised your brows at him. “I need to get some work done sweetheart.” He shifted his hips to sit back on his chair. “How about you keep me warm till then?” He said as you whined “What? Do you have other plans?”
You shook your head as he muttered a “Good” And started going through his paperwork. “You can swallow honey. But that’s all you can do. Don’t you dare move.” He warned.
It was proving to be quiet a task. He couldn’t really focus on anything but your mouth and how he wanted to just fuck it and you stupid. But he was teaching you a lesson. He had to wait a while before he came down your throat. Besides this would give him an opportunity to really savor the feel of you.
You laid your head on his thigh as he flipped through his papers for the next half an hour. Suckling here and there to not mess up his pants. When you realised that he might be interested in you, even just a little. You hoped he would just take you, make your dreams come true. You had no idea what the fuck this shit about waiting was. But you were too afraid to say no to him.
He haphazardly put down his pen. Releasing a shaky breath he finally took hold of your head. Rolling his hips a little, he pulled his length out and pushed it back in. Setting a slow and steady pace, knowing that he’d come all too soon.
You moaned as his hand went down to cup your breast fondling it so gently. He lost it as he felt the little vibrations “Do it again” He demanded as you moaned around his length. He held onto the back of your throat driving his hips up a couple of times before spilling in your throat. “Swallow it all.” He ordered as he pulled out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’.
He groaned as he as your throat swallow a gulp “Clean me up. I have to go to work.” He pushed his tip against your lips as your tongue peaked out and licked what you couldn’t swallow and your spit off of him. You gave his tip a last kiss before tucking him back in his pants.
You stood up on wobbly feet, straightening the wrinkles in your dress. You went over to your chair cleaning your mouth up with a hanky Professor offered. “So you’ll change my grade now?” You pushed your test towards him.
He laughed “We never agreed to that sweetheart.”
“But I – but we – but I just!”
He shushed you putting his papers back in his bag “That would be unethical. You’ll be coming to my house for lessons. We have to make sure you graduate. Are you free tonight?” He looked up as you nodded “Good. Then we’ll decide if you’re worthy of a reward.” He pulled his laptop bag over his shoulder as he walked towards the door, unlatching it and holding it open for you. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”
Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and feedback are appreciated! ❤❤
Beautiful dividers by @whimsicalrogers.
Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!
#shamelesshoesforchris#snowswritingchallenge#andy barber#andy barber x oc#andy barber x y/n#andy barber x you#andy barber x reader#andy x reader#chris x reader
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best man || tobio kageyama x reader
summary: kageyama’s been with you through highs and the lows, he genuinely loves you unconditionally. so what happens during the lowest of the low, he finally meets your older brother - oikawa tōru.
tw// fem! reader,
thank you @scftfairyking for this cute request 🥺
For as long as he can remember, Kageyama has always called you by your first name. You introduced yourself by your first name and you referred to him by his first name, so why would he call you by your surname? Plus, he thought your first name was so pretty too.
(Y/N). See, it rolls off the tongue.
Anyway, you were his girlfriend so of course he knows your second name - it’s Kawa. Quite uncommon but he thought it was cute. He wasn’t in any of your classes though so he didn’t know your register name and obviously, he was too awkward to ask. So he took the initiative to hover around your friend group during lunch to hear what they call you.
From his research he concluded that your name was Kawa as that was what your friends called you, besides your first name.
Little did he know, that was just cutesy nickname they have for you.
»»————- ♛ ————-««
“You have an older sister?!” You gasped, your mouth daggling wide open upon processing this new information which you’ve never heard before, despite the fact you’ve been with him for around 6 months now.
“You have an older brother?!” Kageyama retorted in a similar tone, an unfamiliar look of panic spreading across hi face. Honestly, he had a hard enough time convincing your parents that he wasn’t a delinquent so he had a feeling that it was going to be even harder to convince your brother.
You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. Oh, how you’ve been dreading this day. You weren’t stupid, you knew there was bad blood between your brother and Kageyama - you’ve known it since your brother would come home from junior high, cursing some guy called ‘Tobio’ and taking his anger out on either you or your mother.
That’s why you did everything in your power to make sure that Kageyama never learned your real surname; you even told your parents about this little scheme so they wouldn’t get confused when Kageyama referred to them as ‘Kawa’. Your parents went along with your plan but naturally, they were disheartened that you were ‘ashamed of your own brother’ and that you were essentially lying to your boyfriend so they demanded that you come clean as soon as possible.
But you just weren’t prepared for that day to be today.
Kageyama was over at your house and from downstairs, you heard keys rattling in the door, followed by choruses of cheers and greeting. You immediately understood what was going on; your parents’ anniversary was a couple days ago, meanwhile Oikawa was on a one-week trip to Tokyo for volleyball but he told you he was going to come home early to surprise them - you didn’t think it would be this early though!
Kageyama inquired as to who just arrived, so you decided to finally come clean about the fact you have a brother. But as it turns out, Kageyama had a secret sibling who he hadn’t told you about too; so that’s how you ended up in this situation.
“So, what’s your brother’s name? And why haven’t you told me about him until now if he lives in your house?” Kageyama asked, tilting his head to emphasise his curiosity. Although, you could’ve asked him the exact same question in regard to his sister.
You sighed once again, your heart sinking as you realised that you’d finally have to some clean. After a moment of mental preparation and thought as to how you were going to phrase your explanation, you opened your mouth to respond but then--
“(y/n)-chan~” Tōru sang, the door to your room whipped open to reveal him posing in your doorway in his fruity teal Seijoh jersey, “It been a while! How’ve you be-- AHHH!” He screamed, instantly jumping at the sight of a foreigner in your bedroom who had been lurking in your room the whole time.
However, his fear quickly turned into a mix of anger, shock and appal as his brain finally processed who it was sitting on your bed, - “Kageyama?!” he shrieked, all the colour draining from his face.
“Oikawa?!” Kageyama raised his voice, not seemed as enraged at this plot-twist as Tōru. His tone seemed to show more confusion rather than emotion, as if this was just some cruel prank.
As soon as Tōru was able to regain his compose, he looked at you with fury in his eyes, in a way that you haven’t seen for a while - not since he left Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball club, not since he left Tobio.
“What is he doing in our house?!” Oikawa hissed at you through bared teeht, covering the side of his mouth as if he was whisper but in reality, Kageyama could clearly hear everything your brother said - and of course, he wasn’t too pleased.
“(y/n), why didn’t you tell me he is your brother?!” Kageyama barked, deciding that two could play at that game. It didn’t take long for him to realise that this wasn’t a set-up and your brother was in fact Tōru Oikawa, someone he has told you that he dislikes on many occasions, yet you never felt the need to mention that you were related to him.
Oikawa’s hostile glare immediately shifted on Kageyama since he tried to interrupt you conversation, “Don’t talk to her like that! Is that how you speak to a lady?!” You couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands with embarrassment at the fact you brother just called you a ‘lady’ to spite your boyfriend, ew.
You weren’t the only one who was embarrassed though as Oikawa’s comments definitely caught Kageyama off-guard, he didn’t want anyone to think that he treats you poorly - which is a challenge most of the time as he is clearly a bit rough around the edges which instantly makes people think that he is toxic.
“I- erm, sorry, (y/n).” Kageyama bowed his head in your direction and although you were too awkward to make eye-contact with him, you hummed to reassure him that it was alright.
Tōru cringed at Kageyama’s use of your first name again, he dreaded the thought that maybe you two were actually- friends. 🤢
“(y/n), why do you let him call you by your first name? Shouldn’t he refer to you as Oikawa?” Tōru quirked a brow, placing a hand on his hip while shooting you an intimidating glare. “And this is the first of many questions so be quick about it.” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.
“Uh, because he’s my...boyfriend.” You whispered the last word in hopes he would just move onto the next question but of course he didn’t.
“Your what? Please speak up.” He pried, praying that he word he couldn’t decipher was some sort of synonym for rival or worst enemy.
“My...boyfriend.”
“Your what?!”
“MY BOYFRIEND!” You screamed, clutching the Kageyama’s jersey which you were wearing, for comfort as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you both earlier; I just didn’t want something like this to happen. I know it was selfish of me and swear to be more open in the future.” You mumbled, harshly biting your bottom lip as you fought the urge to burst out crying in front of both of them.
Then, you turned to stare at Kageyama with glossy eyes, “I understand if you want to breakup with me now.”
“Huh? Why would I do that?” Kageyama inquired, looking at you as if you were crazy - but in all honesty, it was an insane suggestion that he would breakup with you over something like that.
“Yeah, why would he do that?” Tōru added, prompting Kageyama to send him a slight glare out of the corner of his eyes.
Then, all eyes were on you. They stared into your soul as they waited for an explanation as why you’d make such a ridiculous suggestion. You were no fool, though; you knew exactly what both of them really wanted and luckily for them, you weren’t feeling stubborn enough to remain in this awkward situation for any longer.
You sighed, looking around the room as if someone was going to creep in and save you from the uncomfortable atmosphere you all had created. Once you realised that nobody could rescue you besides yourself, you begrudgingly murmured, “Because I lied...”
“Pardon?” They both said in unison.
“I lied! Sorry! Jesus, can we all just head back to our own business now?!”
Both of them seemed content with your apology but Tōru still had his arms crossed over his chest, disapproving of your last request. “Our business? My business is wondering why the king is still in our home-- and why are you wearing his jersey?!”
You shot Kageyama an unimpressed look, saying in a hushed tone, “I advise leaving while you still can.” And with your approval, Tobio was out the front door in the blink of an eye.
»»————- ♛ ————-««
“That was so awkward.” Kageyama mused, recalling the event that happened yesterday as he leaned back against the vending machine, milk carton in hand.
“I know.” You agreed, nodding your head as you absentmindedly tapped your nails against the screen of the machine. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You apologised once again, looking up at your boyfriend with the sincerest glint of remorse in your eyes.
Kageyama couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “I told you, it’s fine.” Although the majority of the memories he had from yesterday made him cringe, one that will never fail to made him smile was the look of shock on Tōru’s face once he realised that you were wearing a Karasuno jersey.
He smirked, just about to go back to happily sipping away at his milk until he remembered something that had been bothering him all night and instead of filtering himself, he just blurted it out, “So when we get married, is Oikawa gonna be the Best Man or the Maid of honour at our wedding? Or the dude that walks you down the aisle?”
You felt the tips of your ears heat up, averting your gaze from him to ensure that he didn’t see the blush rushing across your cheeks, “Wedding?! I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself.”
Kageyama nodded, tossing his empty milk carton into a nearby trashcan while keeping his eyes glued to the ground. Just as he was about to apologise thought, you cut in with, “I think Tōru would just a be a guest.”
“Good.” Kageyama blurted out; apparently having lost all cognitive ability today. “No offence.”
You raised your eyebrows, about to reply until you saw Kageyama’s lips curl into a smile as a proud chuckle left his throat, all while he stared into the void - so of course you inquired, “What’s so funny?”
He jumped, being snapped out his thoughts by your voice and jerking his neck to look at you, “Oh, I was just thinking.” he hummed, pausing to allow you to make a ‘wait! you can think?!’ joke but continuing once he realised that you were quite invested in what he was saying, “So, your name isn’t Kawa, is it? It’s Oikawa.”
Your lips instinctively fell into a frown as you were expecting a funny story that’d make you laugh but instead you got a fun fact which you already knew. “No shit, Sherlock.” You hissed under your breath, folding your arms over your chest.
“Yeah, well, not for long.” Kageyama proclaimed, narrowing his eyes and smirking as if he was plotting an evil scheme.
You snorted at this then playfully hit his arm before resting your forehead against it as you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks once again, “What’s with you and marriage all of a sudden?”
Ignoring your comment, Kageyama continued to stare blankly at the ground and say, “(y/n) Kageyama. Would your brother like that?”
You shook your head against the fabric of his sweater, “Absolutely not.” You replied without hesitation.
“Good.”
#kageyama fluff#kageyama x reader#tobio imagine#tobio fluff#tobio scenarios#tobio x you#tobio x y/n#tobio x reader#kageyama x you#kageyama x y/n#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader
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undercover
Hello! Welcome to a very chaotic story.. I really cannot accurately describe all that happens. Heavy influences from Quantico which I have been watching and the American Assassin series which I have began reading.
For @majorharry‘s #majorharry20k with the following prompts: “Should–should we kiss?” (6) and “You’re making this so much harder than it has to be.” (30)
Summary: FBI!Harry and Y/N work together to solve a crime and romance ensues. Enemies to lovers if you squint. (6k words)
Warnings: violence, smut (unprotected), mentions of death, use of alcohol, there is a lot happening
The gun felt cool against your skin which juxtaposed your body which was coated in a light layer of sweat. You were hyper aware of its presence under your dress, along with the wig on your head and the colored contacts you wore, making you feel entirely uncomfortable for the simple assignment you were given.
You sat in the backseat of a government SUV, eyeing the dashboard monitor at the front of the car. It’s view showed multiple angles of the casino you and your partner Harry were headed to. You watched as various members were let in under what seemed to be a heavily guarded building.
You glanced to your right to see Harry reading over his new persona, mouthing certain phrases to himself as he folded the alias card into a black handkerchief, tucking it into his suit pocket.
The two of you and your analyst Mitch were briefed on the mission a few hours earlier. There was a man and a woman, siblings, who were believed to have bombed a casino in London earlier that week. Now, you and a team were set to find and detain both siblings, along with disarming the bomb before it is too late.
“Bellagio’s guest list for nights like this is pretty exclusive but they recently had some people added so we should be able to get by just fine but play off me if need be,” Harry spoke with a gruff voice, adjusting his collar to ensure his communication device was hidden properly.
You defensively shifted towards Harry, “I know my alias,” you stopped to wrap your radio harness tighter around the wire of your bra to hide it’s bulk, adjusting the receiver in your ear you continued, “I was supposed to use it last mission but I didn’t need to.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, “Okay, no need to get defensive.”
You look at him one last time before eyeing the camera footage at the font of the car again. You see a skip in the footage and scoot forward in your chair, “How do you rewind this?”
Mitch meets your eyes in the rear view mirror, “You have to call back to the cyber ops, we can’t do it from here.”
You nod, testing to see if your comm was working before asking the same question, prompting the security team on your case to rewind the footage. “There!” you point out, asking them to go back and pause it again, “There’s a cut,” you decide after seeing a frame by frame replay.
“No camera has him after that. It can’t be a blind spot, he just disappeared,” Harry agrees.
“Someone was probably waiting in a blind spot to take him,” Mitch informs, “They're five to ten feet, there is enough room.”
Having the camera back in current time, you watch as a cab pulls through one screen and stops before it reaches the next camera's sight, “So do you think that's them? Picking up whoever that was?” you ask, looking at Harry.
He sighs heavily, “Probably,” he hesitated. He didn’t want to have to follow the cab, “We can call someone to trace the cab though, right? So we still make sure shits good at the casino,” he replied.
Mitch slows to a stop as he approaches a stop sign, “Ask them to get their license number from another camera and find out who drives that cab,” he suggests, “Then whoever follows them can see what's going on.”
You nod, relaying the information to the analyst team assisting you all on the case. Your eyes follow the monitor as you watch the cab leave the building with an excessive roar of their engine. A crinkle forms between your eyebrows, “Why was that so loud? Wouldn’t that draw more attention to themselves?”
Harry sucked his teeth as he racked his brain for a logical answer, “It would,” he agreed, “Maybe it’s to derive our attention.”
You shrug lightly, “That could be it. We definitely need to get more people out here just in case, though,” you agree.
“It could go both ways,” Mitch reminds you, “They could be a step ahead, knowing how we think, and really be escaping and we would be too naive to realize.”
“This is so confusing,” you whine, “Why can’t they just pull a stunt we already know.”
Harry’s lips tug upward into a smirk, “We don’t have to know what they’re planning, we just need enough people to be ready no matter what,” he reminds you.
You open your mouth to reply but a noise in your earpiece stops you. “They’re headed south on Las Vegas Freeway,” someone comments, “Be ready to follow through once they stop.”
-
You and Harry approach Bellagio, arms linked. It wasn’t the original plan, but Mitch said it would be easier to go in together rather than to be seen leaving the same car fifteen minutes apart in a crowded area.
You both approach the bouncer, Harry giving the buff man his alias, “Oliver Irvine,” he speaks casually. The bouncer's gaze moves to you with an unimpressed gaze, “Maggie Greene, but also my plus one,” Harry speaks again. The man glances at the door and back at you with a grunt. You sigh softly, leaning closer to Harry while also shrugging your arm up to make your breasts look more pronounced, “We know the Russell’s,” you mention the siblings. You watch in amusement as his eyes widen slightly, panic visible on his face.
The bouncer’s face scrunches up in confusion, “We’re visiting from London,” Harry helps him remember your names.
He clears his throat, “Of course, I remember them mentioning Irvine now,” he nods at Harry. You bite your lip softly in attempts to keep yourself from laughing, “Head in,” he sidesteps and you wink at him whispering a soft thank you, making him smile slightly like a schoolboy.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and you let go of Harry’s arm. You make a beeline for the bar and immediately ask for a pale ale. The bartender eyes you up and down before returning slightly after with your beer. You thank him softly and look around the club, sucking your teeth with distaste at the bitter substance. You hate beer but you need to encompass Maggie Greene and Maggie likes beer.
You spot a man looking at you and you smile at him, giving him permission to come up to you. He approaches you with a smirk, “Hey, I’m Rob.”
You twist the hair from your wig around your finger carefully and you lean forward giving him a face full of cleavage, “Nice to meet you Rob, I’m Maggie.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his eyes refusing to meet yours.
You look down at your full beer and lift it slightly so he sees before laughing at him, “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”
He laughed back and with a stutter replies, “Yeah, I figured,” he paused. Looking at your eyes, you silently hope he can’t tell they’re not your natural color because of the dim lit building. “Sorry, I just don’t know how I haven’t seen you here before, I come here every few nights,” he explains.
You perk up at that, he probably knows someone, you think to yourself. “No, I’m new, I came with my boyfriend.”
He nods with his head down and a chuckle, clearly disappointed, “And who’s that?”
“Oliver,” you say simply, pointing at Harry who is talking to a guy towards the back of the crowd, “How come you’re here so often,” you counter.
“The owner is a friend of a friend,” he smiles, lifting his hand to meet yours. He takes the drink out of your hand and sets it down on the bar before speaking, “They’re coming later today, maybe I’ll introduce you.”
“Oh cool!” you feign enthusiasm. You're beginning to regret speaking to him. The more you talk, the faster he seems to go. “Who are they? Oliver was telling me about some of the regulars he met last time,” you trail off in hopes of getting something.
“My friend? Her name’s Jazzy. Jazzy Russells,” he tells you, “Heard of ‘er?”
You shake your head lightly trying to suppress a smile, “No, but I’d love to meet her,” you send him a lipstick sweet smile. You pick up your beer with a slight tilt towards your body spilling it along the hem of your dress “I’m sorry,” you gasp, “I need to freshen up. Would you mind holding my drink?” you ask with no intent of drinking anymore.
He smiles at you and nods, allowing you to rush to find a secluded area. You find a nook next to the bathroom where an occasional straggler looks near. You put your phone up to your ear so it looks more natural and press the button on your comm to speak directly to your team.
“A found a guy who said he’s meeting Jazmyn later today,” you speak in a hushed voice, “Said he’d introduce me,” you tell them.
“Great,” you hear on the other end, “Can you get Styles in with you?” they ask.
“Probably, yeah.”
“Okay. Styles meet Y/L/N and devise a plan,” they conclude.
You nod slightly in confirmation, texting Harry to meet you near the women's room.
When he arrives in a haste, he has a light lipstick stain on the apple of his cheek and smells strongly of a woman’s perfume- his own scent masked heavily. “Jesus, Harry, did ya smother her?” you ask, licking your thumb and attempting to smudge the lipstick off before deciding it’s no use. You sigh, “Go wipe it off in the bathroom, you look ridiculous.”
His face scrunches up in disgust, “Why’d ya do that?” he asks, using his handkerchief to wife off the lipstick and your spit, making sure to keep his alias card hidden.
“Because I told that creep I was talking to that you were my boyfriend so he wouldn’t try anything,” you whisper harshly as you see a woman approaching the bathroom.
His lips upturned forming a smirk, “I knew you liked me.”
“I don’t like you, you just need an in,” you remind him. “Seems like I’m the only one doing any work of value,” you complain, “By the way, that perfume? Doesn’t suit you.”
Harry groaned, “I ran into a drunk girl on my way here, she threw herself on me and kissed my cheek to get some guy away from her,” he explains.
You shake your head with a bitter laugh, “Whatever. Just know, you’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”
Harry looks at you intensely before breaking out into a grin, “Awww, Y/N, no need to get jealous. I promise I won't let anyone kiss me tonight if that’s what you want,” he teases.
You look at him unimpressed, “No, I don’t care what you do, just don’t blow our cover. What are we going to say when I show up with you to meet Jazmyn and you smell like another woman but I claim you’re my boyfriend?”
“Relax, I’m a professional,” Harry shrugs, leaning against the wall next to him.
You scoff, “Doesn’t seem like it,” you mumble.
Harry rolls his eyes in response, fed up with you, “What’s the plan?” he asks.
“So I was thinking,” you pause when you hear Harry grumble an oh great, “I was thinking when we meet Jazmyn we get her a bit drunk,” you shrug. You knew she wouldn’t just reveal anything to you. Especially sober. You meet his eyes, “Then you take her up to her room to take a nap or something? Or back to wherever she says she’s staying,” you shrug, “And from there you take her wherever you can that’s alone and you interrogate her.”
Harry nods, “Okay and Justin? He’s gonna be out all night we can’t just get one of them.”
“Well, if he does end up coming I’ll just flirt or something and get him alone. If he doesn’t, you have to get Jazmyn to tell you where he is or whatever.”
He hums, “Okay so when Jazmyn comes, we have to get her drunk then I take her back? That's it? That simple?” Harry was skeptical. He had done enough work in this field to know that simple plans are never executed to perfection.
“That simple.”
-
Getting Jazmyn drunk was proven harder than you both thought. First, you asked if you could buy her a drink since she just arrived but she insisted she plays better when sober. Then, Harry tried to hand her a drink while she was approaching a game of craps but she knocked it out of his hand onto some random man’s suit who was none the pleased. He sighed an insincere apology to the man as you suppressed a laugh. Harry then immediately found you to keep from drawing attention to himself.
Safe to say the plan was not going well.
On top of that, Oliver, the man you had met earlier, would not leave you alone and insisted on buying you drinks. You took them carefully and set them on a random surface when he looked away, but the inconvenience it gave you was not taken lightly.
You both were on the edge of giving up when Mitch told you through your earpiece that they had gotten Justin, Jazmyn’s brother, and he wasn’t talking. He kept saying his sister has it under control.
Harry looked at you briefly before walking off to find Jazmyn in a rush. He found her playing the same game of craps he left her at and she had just finished betting a push on her opponent when Harry whisked her away.
“Hey,” he breathed on her, voice steady.
“Hi,” she giggled back. Harry smiled, maybe he was getting somewhere with this. He watches as her opponent rolls a perfect twelve and she cheers quietly at her neutral state. “Think I’ve gained four hundred,” she speaks quietly.
Harry raises his eyebrows, “Impressive.”
“I make good bets,” she shrugs with a smile. Her hand finds his, intertwining them together, and Harry watches as her face falls. “Where’s your girlfriend?” Jazymn asks.
Harry smiles fondly and points to the bar, “She’s getting me a drink, ya want one?”
She huffs out a breath in frustration, “Sure,” making Harry smile.
You approach not a minute later with an old fashioned in hand and Harry transfers it to Jazmyn’s. She smiles at you and asks how your night has been.
You glance at Harry and back at Jazmyn, “It’s been pretty good, love getting tipsy,” you shrug. You lean into her, “I always find someone when I get him drunk,” you whisper with a wink.
Jazmyn’s eyes widened slightly, “And today?”
“Workin’ on it,” you shrug, “Why?”
She looks at you and sighs in frustration, “No particular reason.”
You smile to yourself. She’s interested in one of you, you just have to figure out who. “So, Jazzy, are you in a relationship?” you ask her a bit louder then intended.
She shakes her head sadly, “No, haven’t liked someone in a while.”
You purse your lips and nod slightly, “Well I’m sure we can find you someone here, come on!” you enthuse, “There are hundreds here.”
She shakes her head, “I’ve had my eye on someone since they’ve walked in,” she starts, “But it turns out they have a boyfriend,” she looks you in the eye.
You mask your surprise with a soft smile, “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind- they don’t have to tell anyone,” you whisper.
Harry looks your way with a nod. His face is hardened and his jaw is clenched. He looks upset but you couldn’t put your finger on what. “I’m gonna go get a drink,” Harry paused, gesturing to the drink he sacrificed for Jazmyn. You nod in response, watching him walk off.
“They really don’t have to tell anyone?” Jazmyn asks once Harry is out of earshot.
You watch her carefully. For a moment you forget she’s a wanted criminal- a ruthless murderer. In a vulnerable moment, you almost forget that you are supposed to be trapping her.
“Maggie?” she asks. You look at her confused for a moment before remembering where you are and what you are doing.
“Don’t have to tell anyone,” you confirm with a sweet smile.
She smiles back, showing all her teeth. “When shall we go?” she asks.
“A bit forward are we?” you ask, taking the drink out of her hand and taking a long sip, keeping your eyes locked with hers. She shifts, slightly uncomfortable, as you hand the drink back and slightly push the glass up to her lips for her to follow your lead and take a sip as well. “Don’t wanna get to know me? Buy me a drink?” you continue your teasing.
She looks you up and down, “I know everything I need to know about you.”
You raise your eyebrows, slightly unimpressed but wholly not surprised, “Is that so?”
“You like hard liquor, you hate your boyfriend but he gives good dick, your game of preference is poker but you’re bad at bluffing,” Jazmyn trails off, her finger playfully tapping on her chin, “Oh, and you’re hot. I know what I need to know, now let's go?”
You chuckle at her eagerness, “Not all right but I’ll give you props. Not bad.” You begin looking around for Harry, who you find looking at you with an emotionless expression from across the room. “I’ll go get my room key and we can head up,” you wink.
You meet Harry’s gaze and keep it as you make your way across the casino to meet him. “I got her,” you tell him, “I need a key card.”
He nods and scrambles to find one he was given during the briefing, “Third floor, good job agent Y/L/N.”
You fake a gasp as you grab onto the card, “That’s a new one… a compliment?”
“I won’t say it again,” Harry shrugs, watching as you turn on your comm.
“I got her to go back with me. We’re meeting in the hotel room. What now?” you speak to your team.
“Y/L/N, bring her up to the room. We have it equipped with just about everything you’d need. Interrogate her if you can. If she won’t break just detain her and bring her back to us. Styles, you go follow in after ten minutes to help with whatever method is needed.”
You both murmur your agreements and Harry sees you off.
You meet Jazmyn back where you left her but this time she has two large men with her. You smile at both of them before leading the four of you to the elevator, “So you’re an important woman?” you ask.
“Very important. But don’t worry, they’re just here to keep me safe,” she replies, gesturing at the two men’s gun holsters.
You nod, selecting the third floor and waiting patiently as the elevator slowly moved up to the second and finally the third floor.
“Do they have to come in with us?” you ask innocently, hoping you don’t have to blow your cover so soon.
“Is that a deal breaker?” she asks sadly.
“Yeah.. not one for being watched,” you shiver in discomfort. She nods and tells them to wait outside your room and to not let anyone in. They nod obediently and you unlock the door, letting both you and Jazmyn into the large room.
She shuts the door quickly, nearly pouncing on you as you stand by the bed. Her lips meet yours briefly as you pull back in shock. “Would you like a drink?” you ask, turning around and heading towards the mini bar.
She sighs in frustration, “No, that’s okay. Just want you,” she pauses as she watches you bend down to get a drink.
You rise again, holding a bottle of wine. “You sure?” you confirm. She nods in reassurance and you shrug, “Okay, I’m gonna get a glass. Make yourself at home,” you gesture towards the bed.
You leave her and close the bathroom door. You hastily whisper that you are taking your comm off and to contact you through Harry and you detach the harness and tear off the earpiece. You return with a plastic cup, pouring red wine into the cup.
You take a sip, eyeing Jazmyn and you smile at her. You walk towards her slowly, watching as she straightens her posture at your presence. You smile at her intimidation and hold her chin with your forefinger and thumb. “What am I gonna do with you?” you tsk.
She smiles, “Kiss me.”
You set down your cup and lift her chin to meet your height. “No,” you whispered, “Let me please you.”
You were officially worried. It had only been about five minutes. Harry wouldn’t be here soon enough and you really didn’t want to have to do anything with Jazmyn.
“Okay,” she bit her lip, raising her dress without a second thought.
You hid your fear with a sultry smile- helping her lay down on the bed and kneeling down onto the floor. You began kissing up her legs, her hands reaching your wig. You pulled away abruptly in fear but it was too late. Your wig had come off.
“What the fuck?” Jazmyn asks softly. Her eyes widened as she realized what was happening. “Who are you?” she sneers.
You stand immediately but you’re stopped by Jazmyn grabbing at the necklace you wore around your neck. The braid your hair was put in falls onto your back and she yanks it with her other hand, making you groan.
You growl, launching yourself at Jazmyn. “You bitch!” you scream, unhooking the necklace and using the chain to wrap her arms into a makeshift hold as she thrashes in your hold. You use all the momentum you can gather by a simple step forward and thrust her onto the ground using all your body weight.
You step on her hand with a heel but she sweeps your other leg out from beneath you with a swift kick. You fall onto your back and she untangles herself from your necklace, throwing it to the ground as you instantaneously try to stand up before she can reach any weapon.
You reach under your dress and grab the gun you held under tight with your stockings and you quickly point the gun at her. “Don’t fucking move,” you sneer.
“Shoot me,” she replies with a matching tone.
You lower the gun to her leg and attempt to shoot- but nothing happens. The gun wasn’t loaded. Your eyes widen in disbelief and she lets out a deep chuckle and stands for herself. “Good one, Maggie,” she mocks.
You hear a thud from the door and both of you glance at where the noise derived from. “Harry,” you whisper and Jazmyn lets out a “Fuck.”
You sigh in relief as you see Harry’s large figure make its way through the door, assertively pointing the gun at Jazmyn’s leg just as you did before. She chuckles, “Bet it isn't loaded either.”
Harry smiles in response, “Yeah, I bet.” He shoots her. She falls immediately, surrendering to the ground with a tight grasp on her thigh, as Harry speaks into the comm, “Rowland, wipe the cameras and get up here.”
You walk slowly towards Jazmyn, kicking her in the chest with your arms crossed, watching her head hit the carpet of the hotel room.
“What took you so long?” you asked Harry as you turned slowly, making sure to keep your heel on Jazmyn’s chest.
“Had to take out the guards,” he pants lightly, recovering from an adrenaline rush, “Why?”
“Took your sweet ass time, huh?” you ask, watching him roll his eyes.
“Don’t get pissy with me- you didn’t even go through with the mission. She almost got you and you had a gun,” Harry accesses.
“My gun wasn’t loaded!” you yell out of frustration, releasing the cylinder and removing the magazine. “No cartilage,” you show him.
“How the fuck did you not think to check if the gun was loaded?” he asks, his voice raising.
“Why would I check? When have you ever picked up an unloaded gun?” you defend yourself, your voice raising to match his volume.
“I check every time regardless!”
“I was never given a reason to!”
“You should know to! Come on! You were trained for months on this shit at the same academy I was!” Harry yells, “Do better, it’s your fucking job to work a gun.”
Your eyes meet his, “Don’t tell me to fucking do better,” you beg.
Just as Harry was about to reply, the door opens again, this time revealing Mitch. “You guys good in here?” He asks, immediately heading over to you and leaning down to tie Jazmyn’s hands together.
You remove your foot from Jazmyn’s chest and kick her onto her stomach making her groan in pain, “Fine,” you reply shortly.
“We’ll be down there later,” Harry nods as Mitch hoists Jazmyn up, leaning her body weight onto his. Her head falls down, chin hitting her chest at the lack of blood and energy in her body.
“I’m leaving now to get her back,” he gestures towards Jazmyn with his head, “I’ll send a car, though,” he speaks over his shoulder as he walks out of the room.
You sigh in relief of Jazmyn finally being off your hands. You walk over to the bed to sit down when something catches your eye. The necklace. You kneel down to take a hold of it, dragging it towards you on the ground, watching as the necklace falls into two separate chains.
“Fuck,” you gasp, “She fucking broke it.”
Harry's eyes widened, “So what, she broke your necklace. Big deal, you can get another one,” he shrugs dismissively.
You shake your head no, looking for the two rings you keep on the now broken chain. “No, fuck I need that,” you cry out.
Harry looks at you before asking again, “What's the big deal?”
Your eyes water slightly as you look at him, “They’re my ex-husbands.”
Harry sighs heavily and lets out a quiet, “Fuck, sorry.”
“Fuck’s right,” you chuckle, eyes closing in a prayer as you spot the rings that had fallen beneath the bed. You reach under the bed, retrieving the two rings, placing both onto your hand- yours on your ring finger and your ex-husband- Ryan’s- on your thumb.
“Why’d you keep the rings?” He finally asks.
You shrug, admiring the gems on the rings. You had just recently cleaned them in hopes of preserving their life, as they tend to get dirty and battered sitting on your neck during long missions. “He died on the field,” you swallowed harshly. You had been forced to talk about this multiple times with a psychologist during your preliminary training but it didn’t prove any easier as time went on. “Keep ‘em for luck. He’s the reason I got into this.”
He nods, “That’s nice.”
You let out a sigh and look at him, “Yeah, sometimes. Other times I wish I could forget.”
He watches you carefully as you stand up and retrieve your hardly touched wine from earlier. You drink what was left in your glass with a single gulp. “How can I help you forget,” Harry speaks after a long pause.
You look at him and with a longing glance you tell him, “The alcohol helps.”
“How can I help?” he asks again.
“You don’t need to help. You’ve done enough.”
“I think I could help if you’d let me,” he persists.
“And if I don't let you?” you ask, confused. Every assignment you had with Harry he had been nothing but cold. He spoke when spoken to. He paid no mind to you except when it came time to critique your performance. You didn’t understand why he was beginning to care now, when you already had a foundation of hatred thick on the surface.
“I’ll find a way myself,” he shrugs.
“I’d like to see you try,” you scoff. You had no reason to believe he had spent every mission analyzing you- how you reacted, how you spoke, how you moved. The way you went about your work was inspected to the motive and you had no idea.
Harry watched as you turned once more to the minibar, looking for a stronger alcohol. The mission was over and you were officially off the clock. You felt no guilt or shame and there was nobody in your ear telling you otherwise.
He watched as you turned with a mini bottle of crown royal and a can of sprite. “Come on now,” he said, approaching you with his arm out. “Hand over the bottle. No need to drink that much tonight,” he tells.
You defensively shift so your body is shielding the bottles, “Let me do what I want, I’m not working anymore” you argue, “What does it matter to you anyway, you hate me,” you mumble under your breath.
Harry sighs, “I don’t hate you.”
You look him in the eye before concluding he’s telling the truth. Slowly, you set the drinks down onto the small table beside you, “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not? I think you’re pretty good,” he shrugs.
“Today is the first time you’ve ever said anything kind about my work in this field. Every other mission we’ve been on, you’ve told me where I could’ve been better,” you start, glaring at him with an accusatory expression. “Anyway, what gives you that right? You’ve only been here for six more months then me.”
“Because why be good when you could be great? I might have only been here for six more months then you but my position was higher six months ago then yours is now,” he reminds you. “I work smart. You work more. That’s not good in this field. You have to be quick on your feet.”
You scoff and turn around from him, “Okay so how does that prove you don’t hate me?”
“I want you to be the best. I think you could be.”
“So you’re a pretentious asshole because you think you can fix my performance? Cool.”
Harry lets out a sigh of frustration. You’re never going to understand how he cares for you and he knows that, yet he refuses to outright say it. “I never said that.”
“You implied it,” you argue back. He was getting on your nerves.
“I’ve also implied that,” Harry pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. He doesn’t think it’s appropriate to confess to this now, but as you said, you’re off the clock. “I’ve implied that I think you’re attractive. Why can’t you notice that?”
Your eyes widen in shock, “Stop playing with me. I know you haven’t implied that.”
“I have,” he nods, moving closer to where you are standing, “Like when I tell you I won’t let anyone kiss me but you? I mean it.”
You turn and look at him, “Should–should we kiss?”
“Yeah,” he whispers. Gently, unlike what you would assume, his hand finds your chin and tilts your head towards his before aligning your lips into unity. He shifts you with a grunt to a free wall and pushes you up against it with a thud. His tongue forces its way into your mouth and you let out an elicit moan at the new sensation.
Your hands found their way beneath his dress shirt and crawled at his happy trail. Harry steps back to discard the clothes on his torso and he watches as you drop the slim straps of your dress down your arms, unhooking your bra, allowing your breasts to fall free.
His mouth finds its way to your hardened nipple and he flicked one, then the other, between his teeth and eventually he moved his fingers to help the dress past your hips. You moan softly as his mouth works at a steady pace, making your nipples sensitive and erect in their own capacity.
His mouth left your breast, leaving sloppy kisses down your body. Your hands find their way to his hair as your head knocks back in pure ecstasy. You squirm at the feeling of his lips on your hips and feel his fingers claw at your panties.
“Oh god,” you moan aloud. He looks up, nodding at you in confirmation of what he is about to do. You hastily nodded back and watched as he rids your panties and holds your hand softly as you step out of the clothing that had accumulated at your feet.
He wrapped his arm around your waist as he sponged kisses back up to your mouth, biting gently on your bottom lip. Your hands find their way to Harry’s slacks, working quickly to unbutton and unzip them, pulling them down along with his briefs.
Finally, you take in the sight of the naked man in front of you. You involuntarily let out a gasp and Harry chuckles softly before he pressed his body close to yours again. His lips find yours and his erect cock presses into your stomach as your arms find their way into Harry’s hair.
You held him close to you, tugging him even closer when he tried to step away. That was all the invitation he needed to help hoist you up off the ground. Your legs legs around his waist and he keeps you steady with an arm under your ass, the other in your hair.
You kissed his shoulder repeatedly as he carried you onto the mattress, setting you down fully onto his lap. His hand left your hair to find his cock, pumping it a few times before lining up the tip with your wet entrance.
With short huffs of air out of swollen lips, you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, allowing for a loud, erotic moan to leave his lips as your hips meet. He falls further back into the bed, stretches a leg out to prolong the feeling of warmth as you slowly start to move up and down on his shaft, releasing an immense amount of pleasure into both of your bodies.
He tugged your hair back, giving his access to your neck and jaw and he sucks harshly as you quicken your pace on his member, pressing down deliberately in an attempt to feel him everywhere.
Trying to keep your clit rubbing on his pelvis resulted in a series of hot and short breaths being released within the next few minutes. The pressure against his body was unbearable and you had never felt so full before in your life.
“I can’t,” you pant out, not slowing down your movements. You hadn’t felt this good in a long time so stopping seemed out of the question. You pushed deeper, pausing for a moment to catch your breath, before quickly moving against his shaft for the second time.
“Me neither,” he replies, just as dazed as you. He groans aloud as you squeeze against his cock, causing it to throb in preparation of its release. He tries to pull out but you push him down further into the mattress.
“I’m on the pill,” you barely get out before you come, shivering at the sensation. Harry followed shortly thereafter. He sighs in pleasure, helping you off his cock and into your lap before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you desperately.
You watch as he leans back, admiring your body. Your nipples were still erect from pleasure and your breathing was unsteady, short huffs attempting to bring you back to a normal state. There were accidental red marks adorning your neck and a hickey beginning to form on the underside of your chin, “Sorry,” he chuckled, swiping his thumb over the marks he left.
You laugh lightly, “It’s okay,” before rolling over onto your side. Harry stands up slowly, making his way to the bathroom, returning with a towel to help clean you up before he lays back down with you.
“So,” he starts, “We should talk about this…”
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