#didn’t have one but it was terrifying and took over an hour to feel normal again

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Istg if I get a seizure because one of the lights in my kitchen keeps acting like a strobe light after I first turn it on, I’m gonna take it out of the socket and find a way to smash the hell out of it (mostly) safely

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

I Surrender Who I've been, For Who You Are

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of past trauma, past abuse, torture, death, some smut MDNI (18+), slow morning sex, fingering but it fades to black, mentions of sex, Ghost opening up

Words: 5.7k

Synopsis: Simon opens up to you...

Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist

You currently reading chapter 9 of The Roommate Series

Simon jerked awake and it took him a moment to realize he was in bed with you. He took a couple of deep breaths to slow his racing heart and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling to ground himself.

Another nightmare. He couldn’t remember what it was about, and that was a good thing, but he knew by the sinking pit of dread in his stomach that it had been something awful. 

He grabbed his phone and squinted when it turned on to see that he had woken up at five on the dot, which didn’t surprise him considering he had never slept in since he had joined the military. Even when he was home he still got up around five and usually he would be making breakfast on most days but today was Thursday, meaning you had an early class.

He sighed and he felt that all too familiar pit form in his stomach. He tossed his phone away and rolled over to see you curled up beside him. 

You were deep in sleep and yet even in your sleep you leaned most of your weight against him. Not that he minded, in fact he liked it almost too much because instead of getting out of bed as soon as he woke up like normal he got even more comfortable.

He pulled you into his chest and breathed in your scent deeply, burying his nose in the crook of your neck before he shut his eyes.

Simon wanted to keep you here. It was selfish but after everything, after coming home to you injured and after what happened earlier this week, he didn’t want to have to say goodbye to you and spend a couple hours by himself. He’d much rather spend time with you especially now that his injury was mostly healed.

He wanted to take you on more dates, it would be the best time for it since it was technically summer now, there would be more opportunities to act like a couple.

Simon ran his thumb across your skin as he hugged you closer to him. 

A couple. A relationship, that was certainly something he had never done before. He had never had anything this serious in his life, any relationship in his past had been one time flings or casual hookups with the same person for a few months before they eventually got tired of waiting for him. 

This was nothing like that and while that scared him he also knew that this is what he wanted. For once he knew that he belonged with you, he was confident that you were the one he wanted to be with and he knew he could live up to your expectations as well.

But he also knew that meant he needed to be more open with you.

And he couldn’t lie to himself and say that didn’t terrify him.

Simon built walls, he didn’t break them or remove them because those walls kept him safe. It was so much easier for him to keep everything to himself and deal with it on his own where he controlled those feelings and thoughts rather than let anyone know what was going on in his mind. He relied on that safety for most of his life and most of his career considering just how downhill it went, even if it isolated him. 

But that safety pushed you away and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. Suddenly it felt too lonely and his walls felt more like a prison, especially when he realized just how badly they could hurt the one he loved.

He’d never forget hearing you cry behind the bathroom door and in some sick twisted way he hoped he always remembered if that happened again.

He knew he had to be more open with you, about whatever he was feeling but also about himself too. It wasn’t fair to only show you a tiny part of Simon Riley, the part that was the “perfect” version of himself for you when he knew it would blow up in his face if he continued to keep most of himself hidden.

He wasn’t sure how to do it, how to open up to you but at least he knew you’d never have to see Ghost. That was the one thing he couldn’t compromise on because if you saw Ghost then he was sure you wouldn’t find anything good about him to stay.

Simon let out another deep sigh. He’d figure out how to do it sometime soon, he needed a plan and to prepare himself for the worst when he decided to sit you down for a talk. For now, he just wanted to spend a few more minutes with you in bed before you had to get up. 

His eyebrows knitted together and he opened his eyes to a slightly brighter room as the sun rose outside.

Your alarm should’ve gone off by now, he was sure of it. He didn’t want to snoop through your phone but he also didn’t want you to be late to your class, even if you hated it. 

Simon gently ran his hand up your arm before he placed a few soft kisses to your cheek. He squeezed your shoulder as he placed kisses against your skin and watched you slowly wake up from your deep sleep.

“Love.” He mumbled and you hummed as you leaned closer to him, letting him press another kiss to your temple. “You need to wake up for your class.”

“It’s summer break.” You placed a hand over his and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. 

He paused for a minute and stared at you. He’s not sure why it didn’t click that it was summer, maybe because it really didn’t matter when he was at work, but suddenly he felt warmth spread across his body. He had uninterrupted time to spend with you now, at least until Price came to check on him and bring him back to the base.

He didn’t want to think of that right now. Now he just wanted to make up for the fact he woke you up so early for nothing.

“Sorry.” Simon hummed and started to place slow, opened mouth kisses on your neck. 

He continued when you let out a deep sigh and revealed more of your neck to him, a small whimper escaping your mouth when he sucked on the spot just underneath your ear. 

The noises you made fueled the fire in his stomach as he began to grind his hard cock against your ass, his kisses becoming more heated when you pressed yourself against him. 

He slipped his hand underneath your shirt and palmed your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers as you let out a soft moan. He ran his calloused fingers down your skin and lightly nipped your earlobe as his fingers slid into your underwear. His fingers teased your slick folds before he delved into your heat while his thumb rubbed slow but deep circles on your clit.

You were so warm and the moans you let out were so beautiful that he could imagine this is what heaven had to be like.

Simon stood in the kitchen preparing to make breakfast a couple hours later. He glanced at the clock and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself that you were still asleep. It only felt right considering it was your summer break and after the past week and half of him recovering, you deserved to rest. 

He ran his fingers across the taut skin where a new scar would be added to his body. The stitches had dissolved earlier in the week and the pain was long gone, he was back to normal, or as normal as someone like him could be.

He began to make breakfast and his mind wandered.

Getting back on the mission would be tough, especially after having been abruptly taken off it, and he wondered how much the others have gotten done in the two weeks he’s been gone. He knew they got the intel they needed when he had gone back to get patched up but Price was keeping a tight lip on any info.

“No talking shop over the phone, you know that. Recover and spend time with your partner, I’ll call you when I need you.”

It was frustrating and the only thing that made it better was the fact that he had you. If it weren’t for the fact that this was an opportunity for him to spend time with you he’d be losing his mind over this.

You made it better, you always made being home away from work better and that made him even more inclined to open up.

Christ, where would he even start?

His entire life was, is, a mess, a disaster, especially compared to yours and anywhere he thought about starting felt like too much. There were so many details he wouldn’t dare tell you but how do you even go about telling someone your life has never been good until you were an adult who’s just going by day to day?

He didn’t want to scare you away, put too much on you or make you think that he expected you to carry all of his emotional burdens. Would you even want to stay with him if he told you all that was wrong with him?

What had his therapist said all those years ago? Fuck, it’s all blurred together now and it’s not like he can call her up to ask.

Simon sighed deeply and took a long sip of his tea. 

Maybe he was overthinking it, maybe he was making the wrong choice. He didn’t know what was right, what was wrong, what any of this meant and he wasn’t sure if there was anyone in his life that he could ask for advice about it.

If his mum were still alive…

Your bedroom door opened and stole his attention away from his thoughts. He listened to you slowly make your way to the kitchen and a smile tugged at his lips. He was a little disappointed he wasn’t the one to wake you up again but it didn’t matter much to him as he heard you walk down the hall. 

“Morning.” He greeted you when you entered the kitchen.

He peered over his shoulder when you gave him a sleepy hum and his chest warmed when he saw your bedhead. You were wearing one of his shirts and you attempted to rub the sleep from your eyes as you came up to him.

You place a hand on his bare back and Simon leaned into your touch before he pulled you into his side.

“Smells good.” You breathed out as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his chest.

“Not the strangest compliment I’ve gotten.” He teased and sighed deeply when you pressed a kiss to his skin with a small laugh. “Sleep alright?”

“Oh, yeah. I slept great.”

Simon smirked and let the compliment feed his ego as he held you close to him. He finished up breakfast and went to get the plates for you both when you took his attention away by stopping him.

Your eyes met and for a moment the air was knocked out of his lungs. You looked at him with such an endearing affectionate look that for a moment he forgot exactly who he was and everything that he had come from. All he could do was remember all the times you had looked at him with the same fondness before as if he was a different man with less scars on his body and his mind.

The warmth in your eyes was all encompassing. You somehow always reserved it for him whenever you stared at him like this, when you were in his arms or halfway across the room, and it never failed to make the tension leave from his worn muscles. 

It was unmistakable, what the look meant, and yet some part of him still held onto the doubt in the back of his mind because you made it look so effortless.

His throat tightened up for just a moment before he swallowed the lump and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Careful looking at me like that.” He warned softly and watched as you began to grin. 

“Like what?” There was glint in your eye and he scoffed.

“Cheeky.”

He kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut. He ran his fingers across your hairline before he gently caressed your face like you were made of glass. He held you close to him, caging you to his chest and you leaned into him with a sigh.

“Breakfast’ll get cold.” You murmured but made no indication that you were going to move out of his arms, in fact you hugged him closer.

“I’ll make more.”

You chuckled before the both of you reluctantly let go of each other. Unfortunately, neither of you were keen on letting good breakfast go to waste and before long the two of you sat across from each other while you ate. 

The conversation was easy, it always was when it came to you, and for a moment he wondered why he ever thought that speaking to you about the darker side of his life would ever be an issue.

“What’s on your mind?” You wondered.

He must’ve been staring off into space or maybe you just knew what to look for when he thought a little too hard. It was too early in the morning for a talk like that. He’d rather wait until the day was almost over so if it went wrong at least he wouldn’t have ruined a good day like today.

“What do you want to do today?” He changed the subject.

You hummed, your eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion at his dismissal of the question. You stared at him and he stared back unphased but amused as he saw you debate in real time on whether or not you wanted to press him about what he was thinking about.

Simon continued to eat and raised his eyebrows to silently ask you to say something.

“I need to get a birthday present for my friend.” You said and he nodded. “So we can go shopping and you can tell me what you're thinking about.”

“Would you believe me if I said nothing?”

“Absolutely not.”

He sighed and shook his head but he didn’t feel annoyed. He knew if it came down to it, you wouldn’t pressure him to speak about whatever he was thinking about. It bothered him but he would tell you eventually, once he got the courage to do it and because he made a promise to you.

You gave him a smile, a warm one, but he saw the hidden mischief behind it. There was no avoiding the conversation now, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to avoid it anymore anyway.

“Later.” He promised and your eyes widened slightly with surprise. “What?”

“I thought it’d take more convincing.” You said and he shrugged with a small smile on his face.

“You’re persuasive.”

You gasped and he watched your eyes twinkle as you came to the realization that you had a lot more power over him than you had originally thought. He could see your confidence peak more and more as you stared at him with shock while you slowly became elated over the idea of convincing him to whatever you wanted him to do.

“So what you’re saying I could ask you to do anything?”

Simon had to stop himself from telling you the truth that yes, you really could ask him to do anything and he’d do it. It was almost scary how willing he was to do anything for you just because it was you but he would do it without much thought, especially if it meant you were happy.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He shook his head but you were grinning, much like how Soap did when he got an outrageous idea and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of dread.

“Sorry, but all I’m hearing is free lunch today.” You teased and he rolled his eyes as if he’d let you pay for your own lunch anyway.

The two of you finished breakfast and before you could snatch the empty plates away from Simon, he had already put them in the sink and began to wash them. You gave him a playful glare, one that he returned before he nodded towards the door.

It was surprising how willing he was to go shopping nowadays if it meant he got to spend more time with you. He couldn’t believe he was trying to get you to hurry and get ready so the two of you could do it together. 

“Go get dressed.” He told you so the two of you could get started on shopping.

“Help me.”

Simon’s eyes shot to yours and he stopped what he was doing.

You had a glint in your eyes as you looked at him through your eyelashes. There was a deep desire within them, something that could only be attributed to lust as you lightly dragged your fingernails across his skin which left goosebumps in their wake. 

You grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the door.

He followed you without hesitation. 

~

Simon stood in the store with you later, confused as to why you had immediately gone to the toy section instead of anywhere else in the store since he was sure that the friend you were getting the present for was at the same university as you.

“What are we doing in the toy aisle?” He practically glared at the toys on the shelves on either side of him.

“My friend likes these stuffed animals.” You explained as you sifted through the stuffed animals in front of you without a care in the world.

He grunted and stepped closer to you, his eyes fixated on the various toys around him. Most of them were generic, Barbies and other dolls with all of the accessories they’d ever need, random toy animals and of course the stuffed animals you were looking at. He was sure that the next aisle over had even more options for children to play with and he felt himself tense up slightly at the idea.

This was the first time he had been in the toy aisle since Joseph. 

So much had changed. There were so many different toys than what he could barely remember and yet he couldn’t help but think that his nephew probably would’ve loved to play with all of them.

He clenched his jaw and turned his attention elsewhere before a lego set caught his eye. 

It was small, nothing spectacular compared to the other ones on the shelf that he could see, but it still caught his eye. He never had a lego set growing up and he knew for a fact that if he had seen the one he was staring at when he was younger he would’ve begged his mum to get it for him only to be told no.

In hindsight, it wouldn’t have survived in his house if he had it anyway.

“Did you play with legos when you were a kid?” You asked, your voice pulling his attention away from his thoughts.

“No.”

He turned to you and saw that your face had fallen into a slight frown. You glanced between him and the lego set, your eyes having a sort of soft sadness in them that made him clench his jaw slightly.

He didn’t mean to be short with you but he wasn’t ready to tell you all about why he never got to play with legos as a kid in the middle of the store. No one in public needed to know what his home life used to be like.

“What kind of toys did you play with?” You wondered.

“Figurines.” He lied and looked at the toy animals across from him. “I read more as a kid.”

“That reminds me that you need to get more books, you read them all.”

He hummed and nodded, ready to let you change the subject as he watched you pick out a stuffed animal you thought that your friend would like. He followed you to the check out before you somehow convinced him to drive the car closer to pick you up at the doors instead of having you walk to the car with him. 

Before long, the two of you were back at the flat after having an early lunch he of course paid for even when you tried to argue that you were joking about it beforehand.

Now he sat on the couch with you watching the horrible TV show you liked but his mind was elsewhere.

Simon still found himself stuck inside his thoughts, playing over the idea of telling you or not, to the point he was thinking in circles not getting any closer to an answer. Nothing sounded right, not telling you felt like he wasn’t being truthful but telling you felt like maybe it was just too much.

He didn’t realize how quiet he’d gotten until you placed a gentle hand on top of his and leaned some of your weight against him. 

You had a concerned look in your eyes when they met but he gave you a small reassuring smile before he took your hand in his. You didn’t look that convinced even when he gave your hand a squeeze.

“I might have something to cheer you up.” You offered and he raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m not upset.” He said, which wasn’t a total lie since he was more confused than anything.

“Can I still try?”

“Depends on what you have.”

You jumped up from the couch. He watched you curiously as you rushed into your room before you returned with your hands hidden behind your back, much like how you acted when you were giving him the joke book for his birthday.

He gave you a suspicious look and tried to peek around you to see what you had, but you moved it out of his view each time he leaned forward.

“This is not pay back for driving me around today or buying me lunch.” You prefaced and his eyebrows knitted together.

It wasn’t until you pulled out the lego set he had been staring at earlier that his eyes widened slightly and he gave you an unsure look. You however gave him a warm smile before you held it out for him to take and sat down next to him when he did.

“Why?” That was the only thing he could ask you as he stared at the box before he looked at you.

“Because I like you.” You said and he felt his chest tighten. “Everyone deserves to play with legos.”

It took everything in Simon to not drop the box on the floor and kiss you until both of you were about to pass out. How could you say something like that so easily and be completely serious about it as if it were some natural fact about the world. Your words calmed him and riled him up, it caused a torrent of different emotions inside of him that felt so overwhelming good he had no clue how to deal with them.

You were everything to him and he was so afraid of losing you because of who he was.

“You’ll help me, yeah?” 

“Of course.”

Simon wasn’t sure how long the two of you sat there and worked on the lego set. He had a lot more fun with it than he would’ve thought even as he followed the instructions and listened to you talk. He wasn’t sure why sitting next to you and playing with legos of all things made his chest feel warm and made him truly understand that his feelings for you were deeper than anything he had ever felt before but he couldn’t have been happier.

You made him feel so safe and so loved. He knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“Can I…I want to be more open with you.” He began and you gave him your full attention. “But I don’t want it to change anything.”

“It won’t.” You said confidently and for a moment he felt a twinge of anxiety hit his stomach.

How could you be so sure? What if he told you and you decided he wasn’t worth it?

“You are worth it to me because it’s you.”

Your words repeated in his head and the anxiety settled. He had to trust that you were truthful when you said it, that you really meant it.

He set the last of the lego set down and settled back against the couch, his attention on you as you did the same. He watched as you kept a short distance between the two of you and he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for that.

“We go at your pace.” You told him.  “You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re uncomfortable.”

Simon nodded and thought for a moment. He had no idea where to start, how to talk about it without sounding utterly insane but all he could manage was speaking matter of factly about it.

“My father was abusive.” He practically blurted it out.

You had a serious look on your face and though your eyes went sad he didn’t see pity in them, and somehow that made him feel better. You didn’t say anything as you patiently waited for him to continue.

“He used to torment me. I was always too afraid to stand up to him or to fight back. I joined the military to get away but I always wanted to help, and I was able to get the job that I have now because of that. When I came home it was worse than before…I wasn’t scared anymore and I was finally able to kick him out and never had to see him again.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

You nodded and he was grateful there was an ounce of remorse for the bastard in your eyes. Instead, you placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly across his muscles as you went silent again.

“I stayed after that. My brother was an addict and I couldn’t leave ‘em so I helped him get and stay clean, helped my mum too.” He went on and leaned into you when you began to trace patterns into his tattoo.

“That was good of you.” You told him with a proud smile that warmed his chest. 

“Before long Tommy met his wife and got married, then he had Joseph. I had a nephew who had to be the best kid I’d ever met even when he acted out. For once in my life I had a family that felt good, because life was good.”

Images of Simon’s happy family replayed in his mind. His mum who always treated him kindly even when he would have his moment, even when she had been under extreme stress because of his father. Tommy and the way they finally got close after everything and how trusted him enough to let him babysit Joseph. Images of the kid who always wanted to be around him, who looked up at him as if he were the coolest person in the room.

They were far from perfect but they were his family. 

He couldn’t help but wonder what they would’ve thought of you. He could imagine his brother teasing him about how you were “out of his league” or how his mum would fawn over you at every chance she would get, pulling you to the side with Beth and telling you all of the embarrassing stories about him she could.

Simon’s face had fallen and you stopped tracing his tattoo. 

“They would’ve loved you.”

Your eyes widened and your face fell. You looked almost panicked as you stared at him. He could see you thinking up every possibility, hoping that you were wrong about what you knew he was implying as a deep sadness crept into your eyes. 

“Are they…?” You barely spoke above a whisper and when he nodded you immediately grabbed his hand. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”

Simon held your hand firmly. He felt the heavy weight of grief push against him like many times before. It happened years ago now but sometimes it still felt like it was recent. Normally he wouldn’t feel so upset but maybe it was because he was finally talking about it to someone else, with you, that it began to open old wounds.

“I went back to work once everything was normal. I was asked to help for an op and there were these two soldiers with me when it went south.” He trailed off and suddenly his voice was lost.

Panic hit his chest and he swallowed hard. He balled his hands into fists as he tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was beginning to shake.

How could you love someone who went through what he did? His scars never bothered him until this moment, until he realized that once he told you where most of them came from you might not look at him the same way. You might look at him like he was broken and not worth the hassle even when he was going to spare you the details.

What happened to him doesn’t happen to regular people and you deserved someone a lot more normal than him. 

You caught his attention when you gave his hand a comforting squeeze. When he looked at you, your eyes were reassuring despite the sadness in them and you rubbed your thumb across his knuckles.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was soft and warm. “We can stop.”

He shook his head. Even if he was afraid he knew he had to say something, if he didn’t then he’d regret it later on.

Before he could think, Simon pulled you into his lap and hugged you. He let out a shaky breath when you hugged him back, your fingers carding through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. 

He held you like this would be the last time he would be able to. He stayed quiet for a long moment so he could just sit in your presence as he waited to get enough composure to continue.

You waited too. You didn’t say anything as you continued to play with his hair. 

“I was tortured for months.”

You shot up and he felt his heart go into his throat. You stared at him with horror as tears immediately filled up your eyes while you stared at him in disbelief. 

You shook your head as you held his face delicately and your thumb caressed the scar close to his eye. Tears began to fall and intense grief flashed across your face, like you were mourning his death, before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

He watched you cry and watched your heart break for him. Guilt rose up inside him and he rubbed his thumbs into your hips.

“I’m sorry-”

“No. Don’t you dare apologize.”

You sobbed softly and you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. Unfortunately they wouldn’t stop so instead you pulled him back into a hug that he gratefully accepted.

He knew you didn’t want him to feel guilty for telling you and he knew that you were trying hard to stop yourself from crying. He knew you too well to know that you were crying because you were upset that something bad had happened to him which would’ve been endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he felt incredibly vulnerable right now.

He was glad he had you. Just having you in his lap was enough to make him feel safe.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled and tried to wipe the tears away from your eyes. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Simon held you tighter. You began to run your hands through his hair again and he slowly found it easier to breathe despite the shakiness in his chest. 

He didn’t deserve it. You believed that, of course you would and for once he actually believed it too.

He had told himself so many times that he somehow deserved it, he must’ve done something to cause his father to treat him that way, that he must’ve done something horrible to end up on the end of torture for months on end. He had to because that only happened to the worst kinds of people and yet…

He didn’t deserve it.

He took a deep, shaky breath and hugged you closer to him. A massive weight lifted off of his shoulders and he buried his face in the crook of your neck as he blinked away the tears. 

“I’m better than I used to be.” He assured you with all honesty. “Some days are just worse than others.”

“And that’s okay.” You placed a warm kiss on his temple. “I’ll be strong when you can’t.”

Simon’s heart skipped a beat and he cursed under his breath.

He pulled away from you and locked you into a deep, tender kiss. You were still crying but he didn’t care as he held onto you as if you were his saving grace. 

You kissed him back just as fervently, caressing his face and holding him as if you were protecting him from the world. 

There were so many emotions swirling inside of him that he wished he could tell you how much he loved you, how far he was willing to go for you and everything he’d do for you.

He’d tell you ten times over, he’d tell you everyday if he could but the words always died in his throat before he could even open his mouth. He hoped you knew even without the words. He hoped that everything he did to try to show you how much he loved you was enough until he could finally say it. 

Every kiss he gave you meant: I love you.

Link to part 10

A/N: I hope this didn't come off as trauma dumping but I think the only way Simon would feel comfortable enough being vulnerable with someone would be to just explain what happened but also yay we're healing. Also not my best in the series but this is also the best I could do after being burnt out. I hope you guys like this

The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!

Tags:

@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @alastorhazbin @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison

[theodoresgirl]

I see you like dabi... Can you write something with dad dabi??

Dad!Dabi Headcanons

a/n: dabi as a dad, Personally a favorite. Never actually attempt to write it so here we go. lmk if you want more<33

warning: Some 'canon' parts and fan-canon. my personal opinion, delulu.

— —

★ — Dabi’s the kind of guy to first react negatively towards you saying you’re pregnant. He’s never imagined being a dad, His own pushed him down when he gained a “better” son. It would take some reassurance, Like telling him you believed he would be a great dad, and that he was nothing like his father. He would slowly be open to the idea of being part of the kids life.

★ — Dabi’s by your side whenever he can, between the LOV and planing his pay back to his own dad.

★ — Dabi’s holding your hair when you get sick, He’s bringing you food late at night on his recruitment patrols.

★ — He’ll even bust out his old hair braiding skills (he might be a little rusty at first) to keep it out of your face during hot flashes. he learned braiding with fuyumi’s hair when they were younger.

★ — Dabi keeps you and the baby a complete secret, To make sure he knew that if something happened to him. You and the baby wouldn’t be targeted

★ — Dabi would be terrified to touch your stomach, he isn’t normally a feel bad kind of guy but he didn't wanna accidentally hurt you or the baby. It takes some time before he can rest his hand on your belly or lay his head on it.

★ — He tries to attend at least a few doctor appointments, but he misses the birth because of his identity. He'd get really upset ith

★ — Some time after you have the baby, you and him would be sitting on the couch, The baby was sleeping and he lets slip he wants another one. “to give it a friend” lame excuse but hey, It works. He wouldn’t ask for another one but if you asked he wouldn’t say no.

★ — He first sees his daughter when you come home. He’s right there, He heard you talking outside the door and getting your keys.

★ — He was sitting in a chair at the island counter. Safe to say he’s been there for 3 hours waiting.

★ — For awhile he just sits on the couch while you hold her. He’d be scared, again. He didn’t wanna harm her.

★ — She looked exactly like him at her age. Red hair, teal eyes, a big smile.

★ — Sometimes you’d wake to go the bathroom and see a empty place next to to, and noise in the nursery. Dabi would be sitting in a rocking chair mumbling about who knows what while his little girl just slept on his chest. He’d never admit it though, if you brought it up he’d say you were really tired and hallucinated it. (you didn’t)

★ — His phone lock screen was of course his motorcycle, but his home-screen was a picture of you passed out with baby girl.

★ — Second pregnancy around he would probably be outed as toya, Depending on the outcome (we are gonna go the happy delulu root) he'd have contact with his sister, maybe even natsuo. You drag him out to lunch with his sister.

★ — He'd always have his arms around you, around your waist, on your hips and stomach.

★ — He'd definitely rubs the fact his family loves him to his dad, no doubt. He'd brag about how his daughter is always following him around, and his future partner is perfect and loves him for him.

★ — Dabi also definitely got your daughter to say dada first, Even though it took 2 years she finally said her first word. it would be when you went out with his siblings. He sends you a video of her sitting on the couch in one of those Ariel princess dresses. She clear as day she says 'dada'. He teases you about it a lot.

★ — At first you'll have to force him, but after awhile the only movies that are on the tv at all times was Disney & barbie. (His favorites are Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus & Robin hood)

★ — Dabi would lay down on the floor while his daughter played with his hair and feels his scars.

★ — Dabi also by now stopped using his quirk, which over time slowly his scars began to heal.

★ — He was present for your 2nd child, your sons birth. To say he teared up is a understatement. He stood by your side the whole time, he wasn't willing to miss it this time.

★ — Your son looked again, was a mini dabi, but white hair.

★ — When your daughters quirk forms its just like dabis, She ran into you and his room one morning giggling excitedly about having a cool quirk like her daddy. His face was pure fear, could her skin handle the heat? or was it like his?

★ — Dabi would watch when she'd use her quirk, to make sure she didn't get hurt, and she never did. That made dabi relieved.

[imaginesforeons]

Hii since requests are open May I ask if you could write something for yan! Nanami with very scared reader who's just straight up terrified of him and the situation they're in they always hide when they hear him come home shake and shiver whenever he touches then and even vomit from all that stress and fear? If no that's completely okay and feel free to ignore this, thanks a bunch and have a great night/day I love your writing!<33

Sure!! I wrote this, hope it's ok! Also, I will get to the other requests as well, but I had eye surgery a few days ago so it's slow-going. Don't worry though, no-one will be forgotten.

Yandere!Nanami x TouchAvoidant!Reader

~Nanami comes home. You aren't happy~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced contact but nothing NSFW.

WC: 934

REQS are open. At the top of my page you can see who/what I write for. The more specific your requests the better! :)

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

The room that he put you in when he had to leave could only be described as scared to impose. Soft cream walls stared at you from every angle, and an impossibly plush carpet rested beneath your socked feet. Baby blues and minty greens made up the few colors, and they were things like pillows and blankets all of impossible quality. Minky couture and goose down pillows had become your new normal, strewn across the ground and whatever sparse furniture there was, yet nothing else decorated the space. There were no lamps, no paintings, no furniture that wasn’t carefully and thoroughly bolted down; nothing could be used as a weapon. Even the window was welded shut, made of polycarbonate that was impossible to break. You would know, as you’d tried multiple times.

It was a room carefully constructed, a room not meant to impose on the delicate sensibilities of the one in it. It held the same air as a therapist’s office. Or a padded cell.

You shifted, sinking deeper into your chair. Idly you thumbed through your book, but nothing in it caught your interest. You had finished reading it hours ago, but you were too shy to ask him for another, and instead simply left your finished reads on his table to show that you were done. The light shining through your window was turning a burnished gold. It was getting late, which meant soon he would be home. You felt a churning in your stomach at the thought, and gripped your book tighter in your hands, listening to the pages crinkle.

You jumped when you heard the rumble of a car’s engine pull into the drive, then the damning sound of a door opening and closing. Forgotten, the book fell from your hands, hitting the floor. You grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and held it to your chest, trying to create some sort of barrier between you and what was coming.

All too soon, he was there. From across the room you locked eyes, yet before you could say anything he started moving towards you. Your muscles jumped, and it took all you had not to run. It wouldn’t work, you’d already tried.

“How was your day?” Nanami asked as he loosened his tie.

“Fine,” you murmured, casting your eyes down and staring at his feet. When a hand touched your shoulder, you winced, jerking back into the chair as if you tried hard enough you’d bury yourself into it and disappear.

Above you, Nanami sighed. Slowly, he knelt before you, placing himself between your legs and staring up at you in a way that made your skin itch. A large hand wrapped around your calf, unyielding. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it would be impossible to break out of his hold.

“We’ve talked about this,” he murmured. A calloused thumb stroked over the skin of your leg.

You shifted restlessly. “I know.” When his other hand wrapped around your calf, it took all you had not to scream. To anyone else it probably would have felt nice, witht the way he had started to massage it, but it was all you could do to hold in a scream. Instead you brought your legs in, folding them criss-cross beneath your body.

“Most people would love a massage after a long day,” Nanami said.

“Most people aren’t kidnappers,” you snapped back. 

Nanami hummed. “I suppose our circumstances are unique.” And then he ran his knuckles across your cheek.

Your skin went electric and you flinched, flailing and trying to jump from the chair. Before you could touch the carpet, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist. You froze, and your expression could have been enough to bring any onlookers to tears. The arms shifted, lifting you, squeezing you to his chest.

“Please, Nanami,” you whispered. “Please let me go.”

“Shh,” the man murmured, pressing a kiss against your brow. To you, it felt like a brand.

“Let me go,” you pleaded.

You started to struggle, and though you knew it was a fruitless action, there was nothing left for you to do. Twisting, you writhed in his arms like a snake, but it only made things worse. He held you closer to him, enough that you could feel it when he breathed, and when your shirt rode up your torso from struggling, his large, calloused hand found its way to your naked skin, fingers trailing across it. He made his way to the bed, sitting on its edge with you still in his hold.

“Stop it!” you shouted, pounding your fists against his chest. “I said stop!”

“Listen to me,” Nanami said. He was raising his voice, not out of anger, but in an effort to make himself heard. He wrapped one arm around your torso, holding your arms down, while the other went to your face, turning you to look in his eyes. “Listen to me, dear. The only reason I do this is out of my love for you. Can’t you see that?”

“This isn’t love,” you snarled, angry tears building in your eyes. “You’re delusional!”

“Shh,” Nanami crooned. He pressed his lips to your temple. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to stay here until you calm down. One day you’ll understand.”

You kicked uselessly at him, but it only made Nanami hook a leg over yours, pinning you. You sniffled, and felt the first tears coursing down your face. Nanami only held you closer, and started rocking back and forth, a motion that would have been soothing in any other context.

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring pt.2

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.

You woke up with a sore throat.

No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…

God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.

Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.

He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.

Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.

Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.

No. Ghost was different.

No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.

Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.

You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.

A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.

“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.

Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.

“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”

Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.

The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.

You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.

He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.

“Come’ere…”

Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.

You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.

Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.

Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.

“You don’t have to-”

“Look like you’re gonna faint.”

That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.

“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”

~

The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.

How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.

“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”

You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.

You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.

It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.

Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.

You finished up in less than ten.

A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.

It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.

You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.

When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.

“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.

Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.

“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”

And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.

“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.

“Little one’s comin’ with me.”

Not a soul at the table questions it.

~

Against the wall yet again.

Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.

“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.

“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”

“You all wanted drinks.”

Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.

“I got my own.”

You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.

“I didn’t pay.”

Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.

“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”

His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.

“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”

You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.

“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”

“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”

Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.

“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.

“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”

“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.

“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”

One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.

“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”

~

Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.

It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.

“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.

“I… I don’t know…”

Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.

“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”

You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.

“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.

Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”

His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.

“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”

His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.

You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.

God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.

Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.

Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.

Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.

Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…

You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.

“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.

You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.

Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.

Getting fucking comfortable.

And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.

His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.

“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.

“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.

Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.

Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.

Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.

“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”

It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.

His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.

“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.

“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?

“You mean that?”

Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.

“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”

requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(

you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

my ask box is always open, but fair warning I'm slow haha

[thewulf]

Annoyed || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Could you please write Jake Seresin x Reader! where Jake loves annoying Reader with witty comebacks and what not and usually Reader just smiles or gives it back. One day after work, she comes home from work and just wants to relax... Read Rest Here

A/N: Jake is just my fav. Loved writing this slightly angsty to hella fluffy one shot. Thank you for the request @catsandbooksandstuff

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.8k +

It had been the day from hell. Quite literally. Your boss announced he was quitting on the spot. The company decided to put in a temporary boss who was an absolute terror from the instant you met him. He wanted all the spreadsheets you’d worked on over the last year sent to him to review, hell.

Then once lunch rolled around you had remembered you conveniently forgot your lunchbox sitting on the counter at home. To make matter worse there wasn’t a single thing from the cafeteria that sounded even remotely appetizing. There wasn’t enough time to run out, so you settled on the vending machine snacks, delicious.

When the hellish day finally ended you were nearly in tears when you got to your car and got the ‘flat tire’ light. You tried to ring Jake, your favorite roommate, but it went right to voicemail. He must’ve still been in the air. Triple A it was.

After nearly fourteen hours away from the house you finally made it home. You weren’t in the mood for your usual banter with Jake to say the least. Normally you adored it, welcomed the casual back and forth that came so easily between the two of you. He had perfected annoying you but not getting under your skin and vice versa.

“How was your day?” Jakes voice snapped you out of your stupor. You’d been lost in your thoughts not even hearing the damn front door open.

Your jump up from the couch cushion you were sitting on was enough to alert him something was off.

“Shit.” You answered him honestly, “Just a long not great day.”

He gave you a slight smile before setting his things down, “Hate days like that. Good thing it’s Thursday then right?” That was always like him. He always tried to find the bright side of things. A quality you’d come to love but found oddly annoying right now. As good of a trait as it was sometimes you just wanted to bitch and have someone agree with you. Sometimes you didn’t want to heart the fucking bright side. Sometimes you just wanted to wallow. And this was that sometimes.

He nudged you on one time too many. You didn’t mean to take it out on him. You really didn’t. But the combination of the day. Your irritation and his incessant nagging you’d had enough, “Christ Jake. Can’t you tell I’m not in the mood?” You huffed before standing and walking away from the couch. Everything was annoying you. The confused and surprisingly soft look

“I’m sorry…” He stood starting to walk over to you before you shook your head.

“Please just stop. I’m annoyed. Please. Just let me be.” Your voice was laced with unusual irritation that he wasn't used to. In the eight months that you’d been roommates he’d yet to see this side of you and it terrified him that he could be the cause of your disdain.

He put his hands up letting you walk out of the shared living room and right into your room. You didn’t slam your door which was a good sign, but you clearly weren’t happy. Hopefully at the world and not directly at him.

Jake took a moment to contemplate his next actions. He’d wanted so desperately to go knocking on your door, but he also wasn’t dumb. You’d looked and sounded exasperated when you asked him to back off. You needed space and he needed to respect that as much as he wanted to go in and comfort you.

You shut your door and dove straight onto your bed feeling oddly guilty about the encounter you’d just had with the man. He was doing nothing but being his usual self and you’d snapped at him. You’d surely fucked whatever weird relationship you were building with the man right on up. Deciding to apologize later you’d let yourself wallow in whatever self-induced pity party you were ready for.

He opted to eat dinner then he’d check in on you. That’d give you about an hour to cool off. Maybe he was an idiot for going to check in on your so soon after you’d deliberately told him to fuck off. But Jake was a glutton for your punishment. He’d never admit it to your face, but he’d do just about anything for you. He was a smitten man. Whipped as could be. You were as clueless as could be though.

With sudden nerves he powered through and knocked on your door lightly. When he didn’t get a response he knocked a little louder knowing you really couldn’t have gone too far.

“Yeah?” He heard you mumble.

He smiled knowing it wasn’t the ‘go away’ he was expecting, “Can I come in?”

You contemplated for just a second before you gave way, “Sure.”

Jake didn’t take another second before he was in your room kneeling on the ground beside your laying body in bed, “Hey.” You spoke after a moment of silence, neither of you really knowing how to approach the situation.

“Am I annoying?” He asked you without missing a beat. You’d learned quickly how the man never really beat around the bush. He spoke what was on his mind.

You groaned knowing you’d never be able to get out of discussing your semi-meltdown with the man. He’d never let you get away with that, “No, you’re not annoying Jake.” You turned away from him not being able to bear the stare he was giving you, “Sometimes you are annoying. Sometimes I’m annoying. But no, you aren’t annoying. I’m just irritated with the day.”

He gave you a soft smile that you couldn’t see. You felt the bed dip as he sat near the end of the bed at your feet, “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on it.”

You shook your head deciding to sit up. You turned yourself so you were facing him now, “It’s fine. I didn’t give you a chance. I should be apologizing.” You admitted feeling a tad more than embarrassed by your outburst earlier.

He smiled seeing your face. God, if he was sure of one thing it’d be his feelings for you. He hadn’t admitted it to anybody. Not even his buddies. But one day he found himself rushing home so he could be with you. Spend time with you. He looked forward to cooking with you. Eating dinner and bitching about each other’s days. He’d adored domesticity with you.

Quicker than he’d like to admit he started liking you. That was six months ago now. He’d yet to lay a kiss on your lips but he was sure he’d fallen hopelessly in love with you. Your entirety. He’d found a best friend by chance. It’s like the universe was forcing them together and for once he accepted it. Enjoyed it. Looked forward to it. He got upset when he was sent away for a week for training. He’d normally be stoked to go out and explore someplace new. Not now, nope. He just wanted to spend his free time with you. Even if it meant doing absolutely nothing.

“S’okay darlin’.” He grinned at you lazily. Before he even realized what he was doing his hand found itself brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. To say your brain was short circuiting was an understatement. It was already a little overwhelming having him so close to your face. But this? His touch, so light, on your face was sending your brain into an absolute tizzy.

He must’ve sensed you were at a loss for words as he stood from his spot holding his hand out, “Come on, time to get you some dinner. Then we can keep watching Love Island?” His hesitant smile let you know he was really trying despite how annoyed you were moments ago.

“But I’m so comfy Jake.” You sighed knowing you were never going to win this battle with him, not when it came to you skipping meals. You’d had a nasty habit of it prior to living with him. He was horrified when he learned of your terrible eating habits and all but forced a normal schedule on you.

Rolling his eyes, he decided to play along with you, “Then I’ll bring you your dinner and feed it to you princess.” He smirked thinking you’d reject the offer quickly.

“You’d do that for me?” You smirked deciding to let him see how this was going to go.

He started snickering and shaking his head deciding to let it all out now, “Of course. I’d do a whole lot for you Y/N.” Because why not? What’d he have to lose? He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t let that happen. He needed to make a move, he was slowly going mad having to live and love you without living and loving on you.

You’d returned the favor of rolling your eyes before taking his hand, “As tempting as that is I think I can feed myself.”

Instead of dropping your hand he pulled your right along with him to the kitchen, “And you’re going to deny me the chance of feeding you?” He frowned as he set down a plate in front of you he’d kept warm in the oven. You couldn’t deny the teeny tiny little blush that coated your cheeks as you took in his act of kindness towards you. You were a sucker for a guy who did the small things like that for you. And Jake… Jake was one of the most thoughtful guys you’d ever met. He always thought of you first. Your show was on? He’d change the channel. If you were overly stressed he’d do more housework for you. If he noticed you didn’t make it to the store he'd pick a few of your regular things up. Jake was just, Jake. A guy unlike any other. A guy you were far too afraid to make any sort of move on.

Shaking your head, you couldn’t hide the giddy smile on your face. He just made you feel good. Unlike any other, “You’re something else Jake.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” He sat down opposite you with a glass of water in hand knowing you far too well. You wouldn’t eat unless he had something too. It was entirely too awkward to chow down on your dinner if he wasn’t somewhat occupied too.

“Course it is. I’ve never met any guy like you before.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could even attempt to stop them. He could take it so many ways you just hoped it didn’t ruin anything you’d had between him.

His eyes locked with yours deeply it sent panic throughout your entire body, “Are you flirting with me Y/N?” He asked giving you that signature Jake smirk that always seemed to get him whatever you want

Shaking your head quickly your eyes looked anywhere but at his, “No, in your dreams.” You fired back all too quickly.

But he’d decided right then and there he didn’t just want to be friends with you. He’d wanted so much more with you, “You’re right darlin’. In my dreams you are flirting with me… all the time. I’m flirting back, naturally.” He gave you a devilish smirked before continuing, “I even ask you out. And guess what?” He asked leaning forward a bit from across the table knowing he has your attention fully.

You just gave him a look of bewilderment as you took in his words, “What?” Your curiosity took over as you were entranced in every single word coming out of his mouth.

“You say yes.” He looked at you as if you were his light

It was like he stopped your racing heart right there, “Did I?” You were nervous, terribly nervous. What was he doing? You never even thought of the possibility of him possibly liking you back. No, he had to be messing with you. Had to.

He nodded slowly, “You did. You looked awfully cute too. Just like you do now.” He looked too proud of himself with that comment. You had to admit it was a smooth. Jake was always smooth though. He had such a way with words you could really only dream of having. You’d often found yourself tumbling over your own thoughts instead of forming coherent sentences.

“What?” You shook your head trying to make sure you were actually in reality and not dreaming yourself.

He shrugged, “You look cute. You often do. Cute as hell, all the time. Beautiful. Gorgeous even.” He held back on laying it on too thick in fear of chasing you off, but he certainly decided he wasn’t going to be shy about it. Not anymore. Nope, he’d crossed the line and he was jumping all the way over.

You shook your head once again not quite believing it, “Again, what?” You had to ask once more, just for confirmation. Because this wouldn’t have happened, not even in your wildest damn dreams.

He stood from his seat taking the seat right next to yours, “I like you. I think you’re stunning. Will you go out with me?” He grinned as he watched the gears turning in your mind.

You sat up a little straighter in your seat. Setting the fork down your turned your body towards him, “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He started laughing. He took your hand in his. Giving it a squeeze, he looked up to you, “I thought I made it obvious darlin’.”

You gave him a quiet laugh, “You probably have. I’m just clueless.”

Those eyes that drove you mad on a daily basis looked you over for what felt like the first time as something other than friends. More than friends. Something you’d never thought you’d see come to life.

He grabbed at your other hand holding them both tightly, but gently, in his own hands, “You’re one of the smartest people I know. But you are quite oblivious sweetheart.” He had to agree sending both of you into a fit of laughter. Both of you feeling easier in each other’s company. You knew it’d be semi-awkward for a while before the two of you found a rhythm once more.

“You weren’t supposed to agree Jake.” You stuck your tongue out at him knowing it’d help lighten the mood further, something the both of you needed.

He couldn’t contain himself as he scooted closer. He just wanted to be by you. He always did. Always, “Well you know I’m not a liar sweetheart.” His chair was touching yours now.

“A little white lie doesn’t hurt Jakey.” You’d never advocate for a full out lie but a small one to make somebody not feel like a total piece of shit never hurt your feelings. Not that Jake made you feel like a piece of shit, no. He made you feel quite the opposite of that. Loved and secure. Something you’d been craving for in a relationship since you’d left your family all those years ago but could never seem to find. Until him of course.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Jakey?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m testing out new nicknames, sue me Seresin.”

He dropped your hands earning a frown, pout, and glare in his general direction. You too craved his touch as much as he craved yours, even if he’d never admit it, “I liked Jakey better.” He placed his hands on either side of your face catching you completely off guard.

“Jakey it is.” You mumbled feeling like you were melting right in his hands. How in the hell did this man have such a strong hold on you like that? One little touch and you were putty already? God, you were absolute toast.

“No, no. You still got some more to try out darlin’. I know you do.” He spoke while running his thumbs along your cheek bones. A mess, you were an absolute pitiful mess being held up by Jakes hands presently.

You nodded as best as you could, “Sure, you got it.” You hummed feeling absolutely helpless in his hold. It was a weird yet thrilling experience. Letting yourself fall in love with him was different than any of the other guys you’d been with before. He was your friend first. You’d learned about Jake before you got to start loving on him. You knew his quirks, ticks, annoyances as best as anybody who lived with the man could. Now, you got to take what you’d collected and put it to good use.

“Y/N?” He asked after a moment of the both of you staring right at each other. Your food had long since gone cold sitting right beside you. Jake was a damn good distraction.

“Yeah?”

You watched as his eyes bounced back and forth between your own eyes and lips. A thrilling chill raced around your body before he finally spoke again, “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never ask J.” Your eyes met his. A smile broke out onto both of your faces. Everything felt so right, so correct. You’d never been so damn sure of decision in your entire life.

He hummed, “I like that one.”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged33 @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[brooooswriting]

could you write Leighton Murray having big panics attacks.

She has a lots of problems on top of being terrified of coming out so one day when she's in maths or something. She feels disconnected from herself and goes into a panic attack ♡

Hurt comfort angst

I got you

You didn’t know Leighton all too well, you were in the same math class and shared some other classes. In addition to that, you knew Kimberly from Econ which meant that you saw her every now and then. At some point you had to do some assignment together in math and ever since then you’ve been sitting next to each other. But believe it or not, Leighton wasn’t really someone who talked a lot about her private life. Plus she was actually a really good student, always on top of everything, following the lecture, and she solved most problems Before Most of the others even understood the question.

That was exactly why you were so confused when the blonde came in late, dark bags under her eyes and she was clearly unfocused. Your Supposition was Confirmed when the prof called her out but she only stared ahead. You felt her leg shake against yours and you could see her eyes stare ahead. As someone who could also deal with being anxious you knew these symptoms. While you knew how hard it could be to do anything during those moments you didn’t want her to loose her high standards in this class. So you carefully slid your iPad towards her and pinched her side. She jumped slightly, her head slowly turning to you before you Inconspicuously pointed to the solution.

“That’s right Leighton” the prof ignored the woman’s weird behavior. You guessed that it was since she was normally on top of the class.

“You good?” You asked the blonde as her leg shook harder but you didn’t get an answer. Your eyes switched between the clock and the girl as you tried to figure out what to do. There was class for another half an hour and pulling her out would be weird but you knew how bad these things could get. When you felt her breath speed up you started to panic too. You searched through your bag to find anything that might help.

To your surprise you even found two things that could help. You pulled out your ice cold water and pressed it to her leg which slowly pulled her back before taking out two tissues and scrunching them up against your nose. Your head went back up and your hand shot up. “Yes Mrs. Y/l/n?”

“I’m sorry my nose is bleeding, may I go to the restrooms?” You asked, your other hand still pushing the bottle against Leightons leg. When the prof nodded you added, “Is it okay if Mrs. Murray joins me? I may need another hand” he again nodded and you grabbed the blondes hand to pull her out of the room. Once the door closed you made sure to get her to fresh air behind the building. It was rather secluded so nobody would see her.

“Can you breathe for me Leighton? You’re going into a panic attack darling” you took her hand and placed it on your chest so she could feel you breathe and copy it. It worked a bit as she started to calm down. “Is it okay if I hug you?” You questioned gently, making sure to give her the space to deny.

As soon as she gave you the okay you hugged her. She relaxed into you, her breath slowing down and her leg stopped shaking. “Do you wanna talk about what scared you that bad?” Your voice was soft, something that Leighton always appreciated about you.

“I don’t know” she hesitated, life was being really hard on her at the moment and even though she was pretty sure that you weren’t going to judge she wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk it. You stayed silent, your hand rubbing over her arm to signal her that you were there for her. “I… I am gay” she just busted out, avoiding any eye contact she could have with you.

Which was bad cause she didn't see the smile forming on your lips. Truth be told, you already had a guess that she was as you saw her check you out several times but you didn't know anything for sure. And as someone who was gay themself you knew how hard coming out could be. “Leighton, that is great. Is this what stressed you out so badly?” you asked, looking down at her.

“Yes… and no. It's also Nico who cheated on Maya his long-time girlfriend with Kimberly and broke both their hearts and my stupid community service at the women's center and the whole Kappa thing. It's just I always thought college life was this easy and chill life but it's kinda crushing me at the moment” she explained as she played with the rings on her hand. You chuckled lightly when she was done explaining which made her glare at you.

“Maybe college life isn't easy because you let everybody else decide over your life,” you said, keeping your advice short hoping that she'd explain it to herself but the look she gave you was a clear no. “Why is the thing with Nico stressing you out?”

“Because he hurt Kimberly… and everybody tells me that that was really bad of him and shit but like, I'm not him. I can't do anything about it” She sighed and her shoulders slumped even further.

“Exactly. You can't do anything about it; you didn't know. So don't let that stress you out; instead, focus on helping Kimberly and Maya” She gave you a nod, and you could see that she was still thinking about what you just said. “So why kappa?” you continued.

“Well, my mom was in it, and it is obviously the first step to a particular lifestyle. It's necessary, and I don't want to disappoint my mom.” you nodded along as she talked, acting as if you understood the whole kappa and lifestyle thing.

“Leighton, kappa should be happy to have someone like you. Someone as lovely and caring is hard to find, and if you're just yourself, I can't think of a reason why they wouldn't take you. But if, for some absurd reason, they don't want you, your mom wouldn't be disappointed or mad. She'd love you the same,” you reassured her. The blonde didn't immediately answer; instead, she just stared at her shoes; it was evident that she was dissociating again. You took the cold water bottle out of your bag again, but this time, you opened it and carefully put it in her hand, urging her to drink something as tears brimmed her eyes.

Once she was back with you, you decided just to cut the topic that was probably scarring her the most. “And what makes you so scared to come out?” you questioned, shaking your head when she tried to give you back the bottle.

“I… I like myself. I don't want it to change how people see me and how I act. People will immediately treat me differently and I don't want that!” she explained and you understood where she was coming from. Being treated differently was also what used to scare you.

“I get that. I used to feel the same way, but I realized it can only affect my image and how people see me if I let it. I came out by making out with a girl at a frat party, and from then on, I was incredibly persistent in acting the same. If people wanted to talk about my sexuality, we could, but I made sure that we did it once, and then the topic was done. And you have such a great personality and style that I don't think this could change you.” You grinned at her and nudged her shoulder with yours making her smile at you

“Thank you, you're good at this, and you're so much more understanding than…” she hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should tell you that she's been seeing someone. “Than Alicia” she finished, watching your eyebrows raise and your face fall a bit.

“Alicia, like women's center Alicia?” you asked, nodding when she gave you a yes. “That's... Unexpected.” You had to keep your face in check as your heart broke over the fact that she had a girlfriend.

“Yeah, I know. And for someone who works at a women's center, she's really bad at this, she keeps trying to get me to come out” the blonde asked as she turned to you. Your face turned into an annoyed and angry one at what she just said.

“Don't ever let anyone pressure you into coming out. That's literally the worst thing one can do, and I hope she knows that. You come out when you are ready, not when she wants you to, okay?” you had your hands on her shoulders, ensuring she was listening to you.

“ But if it really hurts her when I'm closeted?”

“Then she shouldn't have committed to this relationship, Leighton. You deserve someone who supports and loves you unconditionally, and honestly, I don't think that Alicia is that person. But I'm here for you if you believe she is.” This time, you avoided eye contact, missing the blonde's heart eyes. She just leaned back into you until you could see her eyes close due to exhaustion.

You smiled slightly before nudging her. “Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm. You should rest a bit. Panic attacks can be quiet exhausting.” you pulled her up by her hand and grabbed her bag. You took the emptiest road back to her dorm as she looked less styled than usual and you didn't want any rumors.

“Thank you for everything, y/n,” Leighton said as she leaned against the doorway. She didn't want to part ways, but she was too tired to ask you to come inside. The smile you sent her made her heart flutter a bit shocking herself.

“No problem. Here, give me your phone.” She handed you her phone and you quickly typed in your number, saving yourself with a 💕 behind it. You couldn’t wait for Alicia to see your name in her girls phone. “Now go to sleep okay? Text me when you’re awake so I can check up on you” you hugged her and put her bag down in the living room before exiting.

You couldn’t wait for the next couple of days to unfold, getting the girl of your dreams and finally getting back at someone who clearly deserved it.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #55: Feeding

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery, vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker

happy 2 year anniversary to kane & jim~! hard to believe it's been 2 whole years since i started writing...

wrote while listening to melodies of refresh by tenno gabni

-

Kane woke and looked to the door. Just like every morning the past week, it was a normal door. No silver. No lock.

He changed and washed his face, creeping upstairs with the hesitancy of someone who knew he wasn’t allowed, despite knowing full-well that he was: Jim had made that clear. He felt too quiet, his ankles free of chains.

It was early morning, early enough that the sun hadn’t risen yet–that terrifying tell-tale glow didn’t shine from behind the curtains. Jim wouldn’t be awake for hours, resting upstairs while Kane slunk around in the dark, in his own house.

Kane couldn’t fathom how much trust that must have required. He still couldn’t believe he’d earned that much.

The fact that Jim was still feeding him his own blood was a miracle in itself. He’d given a time limit of one month. One month for Kane to get used to freedom, to going out on his own, traversing society like a normal person after years as a prisoner. An adjustment period, Jim had called it, his mercies never-ending in the face of Kane’s fear of running to and from the border on his own.

There was no way Kane could ever repay it, not in a thousand years. But he at least had to try.

He turned the knob on the stove. It was something familiar, having owned a stove himself for heating up the contents of blood-packs in his time before he came to own Jim. Human stoves, like their food itself, were more complicated: four burners instead of one, all with dials offering various degrees besides just ‘on’ or ‘off’.

And it was something he hadn’t done since before.

The circle of flames flickered to life, blue and hot and threatening.

He quickly turned it back off, luckily managing to control his strength and not break the delicate knob.

Deep breaths, Jim had said, more times than Kane could count now. Look at me. You’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’re safe here, remember?

Kane took a deep breath in, playing Jim’s soothing affirmations through his head, exhaling slowly. That’s it, there you go, the memory of Jim’s voice encouraged. You’re alright. No hurting.

After a few more of those, he turned the burner on again. The flames flicked back to life, and Kane watched them silently.

-

Jim woke, shook off the nerves, and marked another day off his calendar. Seven days down, twenty-one more to go, and then no one will take his blood ever again.

He could stop it now, if he wanted to. He knew he could. Kane hung on his every word like he was some kind of divine prophet. But once he stops, Kane has to start getting blood from vampire territory, and he’d have to talk to his parents to get the money to buy it… and it was too obvious he wasn’t ready.

Jim knew that feeling, going from years of captivity and isolation to suddenly being a person again. He knew how hard it was, even with support. There was no reason for Kane to have to rush into it immediately. The guy could barely go outside at night on his own he was so afraid, and he was a vampire. No, a month’s time would do him well.

Still. He couldn’t help but count the days until it was over.

As he stepped into his slippers and headed downstairs, he stopped in his tracks, hearing someone futzing around in the kitchen.

It was going to take Jim a while to get used to that, Kane roaming freely in his house. At night, even. He knew he could ask Kane to leave once he finds his bearings, but… despite the deep-seated terror, he knew he was safer with Kane here than without. Kane brought Laken home, after all. If any vampire came for him, Kane would save him, too. At least, he hoped so.

He continued down. “Kane?”

“Good morning!” came the cheery reply. That set Jim’s nerves at ease, at least. Right. Kane was friendly, now.

“Morning. You sleep okay?” Jim asked. As he made his way through the living room toward the kitchen, he noticed a distinctly… delicious smell. That couldn’t be right.

“Better! And you?” Kane appeared in the doorway, a big, fanged grin lighting up his face. It was a sight Jim had already long gotten used to by now, one that brought him pride instead of fear.

He shrugged. “You win some, you lose some. Hey, are you, uh… cooking?”

Kane held out a hand. “I am! Please come sit?”

Now he was smiling, too. “Haha, okay.”

Jim took his hand and let Kane lead him to the kitchen table, where a plate full of blueberry pancakes sat. They looked a bit off–undercooked, a little torn up–but the fact that they were there at all was astounding.

He sat down. “How did you even do this? You don’t cook.”

“I watched you,” Kane admitted sheepishly. “In the mornings. I really wanted to make you something, and I didn’t want to waste food by just guessing and doing it wrong, so I started paying close attention, and this seemed like the easiest thing to copy… are they okay?”

“Well, let’s see!” Jim cut into one– definitely undercooked. It oozed out around his knife, but Liz’s failed attempts at cooking had given him ample practice in this field. He popped it in his mouth without a care. “It’s great, Kane. Especially for your first time ever cooking anything. Thank you.”

Kane brightened up even further at the praise, sitting in the chair adjacent. “I know it’s not the same at all, but I wanted to feed you too, somehow. Like you feed me. I was wondering… if you could teach me to cook?”

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” Kane insisted. “I really, really do. But I don’t want to impose! I can always ask Laken.”

Jim cut away the less-done bits of the pancake he was working on, scooping up another bite. “Alright, if you’re really sure. Yeah, I can teach you. Doesn’t human food smell, like, really bad to vampires, though? Like it’s rotten or whatever?”

“I’ll manage.” Kane bore no obvious worry of the issue. Clearly, a bad smell was not something that registered to him as a concern any longer. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t until Jim had finished his breakfast and was about to get up that Kane spoke again, the smile fading from his face. “There was something else, actually.”

“Oh?” Jim put his plate and utensils back down.

Kane got down from his seat to kneel on the floor.

“Kane, buddy,” Jim said softly, sliding into that placating tone he always used when trying to calm the vampire down from one of his panics, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. It’s– it’s to show respect. Please.” As Kane looked up at him with those intense red eyes, Jim could see no fear at all.

“Well, okay then, I guess. What’s up?” he asked.

“I want to thank you. For everything,” Kane spoke carefully, as though each word was precious. Rehearsed. “For taking me away from the hunters. For not hurting me, even though you could have, even though you had every reason to. For helping me calm down when I panic. For feeding me, your own blood, even though it’s so hard for you, just so I wouldn’t starve. For giving me clothes and bedding and music and happiness again. You gave me my life back, but I owe you so much more than just my life. Because without you, I wasn’t dead, I was– I was there. And you saved me.”

Tears welled up in Kane’s eyes as he stared up reverent, overcome with emotion. “And I was thinking about all the times I’ve apologized to you, I was too afraid to do it right. I was just– I really was sorry, I’ve been sorry for a long, long time, but in those moments, I’ve always just been focused on not being hurt… but you would never hurt me. I see that now. Jim, I am so, truly sorry for hurting you. For every single time I hurt you, big and small, for those five years and since, I am so, so sorry. I was unimaginably cruel to you, and no one deserves that, but especially not you. I know that back then I told you the opposite, but I was wrong. You deserve to be happy! And I took that from you.”

Kane placed a hand over his heart. “And I swear to you, I will make it my life’s mission to give you back that happiness. I am loyal to you, Jim. Forever.”

He put his hand down. “That–that’s all. Thank you for listening.”

Jim sat in silence for a moment, absorbing it all. Wasn’t this why he’d originally taken Kane in? Wasn’t that the excuse he’d used– he wanted Kane fear-free enough to have an actual discussion about back then, without him devolving into a terrified, sobbing mess? He could do that, now. How long had he been waiting to hear Kane admit that he hadn’t deserved it after all? Fifteen years?

Oh, he was so unprepared for this conversation. He needed all kinds of psyching-up before they could have that talk.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Kane added quietly. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Right. Yeah,” Jim said, snapping out of it. Just because Kane was ready didn’t mean it had to be now. It could be any time, when he was ready, too. “That’s… wow. Hey, it’s okay,” he tried, far more comfortable comforting Kane than the other way around. He grabbed a tissue, handing it to him. “I mean, not the–not what you did. I mean it’s okay now. Um, thanks, is what I mean, I guess. For really apologizing.”

Kane wiped his eyes. “It’s the absolute least I could do. Everything I have is something you’ve given to me. Nothing hurts anymore.”

“Good.” His sincerity brought a smile to Jim’s face. “You know, maybe cooking isn’t the best idea if you’re afraid of burns? It’s not gonna happen every time, but even I get myself once in a while. Just thought I should warn you.”

“You give me blood,” Kane pointed out. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. “Plus, you’ll be there. Right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” Jim patted him on the shoulder.

Kane smiled back up at him. “Then I’ll be okay.”

-

taglist in reblogs

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Fearless Hunter Saved

Summary: Dean Winchester x Fe!Reader -> You are the most fearless hunter Dean knows. But he also knows sometimes, even the most fearless, get scared.

Disclaimer: This is a lot of Sad-Fluff. Attacked by a vamp, descriptions and mentions of blood, cuts and old scars. This might get a follow-along, maybe. Not proof read.

Dean had known you long enough to know you didn’t get scared. Ever. 

He might have only known you for six years, but it was longer than long enough to know when it came to Hunting - - you were one of the best. 

But he also knew everyone had their point. Maybe not a breaking point, but a point big enough to scare even the most fearless of Hunters. 

And for you, that was a Vamp hunt. 

You had done plenty of Hunts in your time. Even long before you met the Winchester boys. Werewolves, Vampires, Ghosts, Ghouls…if it was dead, you could kill it. 

But there was something about this hunt. This vampire nest. 

It was a point. 

Going into it, you were fine. You were normal. 

Until Dean looked over and found you gone. 

You had been fighting off a Vamp in the back corner of the barn last he had seen. 

Then he heard a scream. 

It wasn’t long until he found you; fighting for your life, weaponless, bleeding and getting weaker by the second. 

“Beg for your life.” The vamp kept telling you. “Go ahead, beg. No-one will hear you scream. You want to die with dignity? A Hunter, turning into something they fear the most. Go ahead, beg for your life and I might just do you justice and make sure your friends have a quick death.”

You shook your head, trying your best to fight off the tears but clearly losing. “Please…please don’t-”

The vamp laughed, feeling your limbs weaken beneath their hands. Only, as you closed your eyes, expecting death, everything went silent. 

The hands around your arms and the weight above your body became lighter and your chest…had never felt heavier. 

It took three low breaths for you to focus your gaze on Dean who was standing above you, having kicked the decapitated body from yours. 

“Dean…”

Then he finally got a clear look at your face. 

The only emotion he could read was

Fear. 

Replacing his blade by his side, he lowered himself towards you, helping you sit up a little. 

“Hey, look at me, you’re okay.” He brushed the stray hairs from your face and tried his best to survey the cut across your head. “We got em’ all. You’re okay.”

Then, you hugged him. Tight. 

You were known to hug both Sam and Dean a lot more often than any other Hunter, but it was never anything longer than three seconds and a quick check to make sure they were okay. 

But this was different. 

Dean could feel your entire body shaking in his arms. Your breathing was uneven to say the least and the grip of your fingers in his back were more than just a warning that you were terrified. 

“Hey, Sweetheart, look at me. Hey,” Dean leaned back a little so he could see your face. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He brushed the tears from your eyes before pressing a kiss to your forehead and bringing you back to him. 

“Keep your arms around my neck, okay?”

You nodded against him. 

“I need words, darlin’. Need to hear your voice.”

“Okay.”

Your voice was quiet. Nervous. Shaking. 

Dean pressed his hand to your head as he held you closer to him and lifted you up. 

“Dean?! Dean! What’s-”

“Get in the car, Sam.”

Sam didn’t ask again. Instead, he packed up the rest of the kit as Dean carried you towards the car, opened up the door and helped you inside. When Sam slid into the passenger seat, he tried his best to gauge his brother’s reaction but couldn’t find an explanation. 

All he had seen was you being picked up by Dean and carried to the car. 

The drive that usually took two hours took far less to get home. And the entire way back, Dean’s gaze kept flicking to you in the rear view mirror. You didn’t look up once, and if you did, he didn’t catch you doing so. 

From what he could see, your hands were still shaking and tears were still silently falling from your eyes. 

In all the years he had known you, he had never once seen you cry. 

It wasn’t an image he wanted to see again. 

Seeing you cry pained him in a way he didn’t know even existed within him. 

By the time he pulled into the Bunker, he rounded the car and helped you out of it, lifting you once more. 

Your breathing had calmed a little against his neck but your body was still trembling. 

“You’re safe, Sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

The next words out of Dean’s mouth felt like they were lightyears away. It was something to Sam, about…you couldn’t work out what. 

And by the time you opened your eyes and looked up, Dean had sat you next to the double sink basin in one of the Bunker bathrooms. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, Sweetheart, stay there.”

And you did. 

Less than thirty seconds later, Dean returned with fresh towels, a first aid kit from your room, a change of clothes and one of his hoodies. 

He had removed his jackets so now he stood in front of you, a little blood-stained, in a black t-shirt, jeans and boots. 

“I’m gonna clean you up, so this might sting a little. But I need you to stay awake, okay.”

You nodded again. 

“Words, Sweetheart. I need to hear your voice.”

You swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

You didn’t know how much time passed. Just that it had. 

“Just count my breathing, Sweetheart.” Dean told you after a while. 

Your breathing was becoming shallow, the longer it took for him to clean up your wounds. He didn’t want you to fall into a panic attack. 

“Here.”

Taking your hand in his, he pressed two of your fingers against his pulse on his neck. “Just follow along.”

“Okay.”

By the time he finished, a string of “sorry”’s each time you hissed in pain - though it wasn’t often, Dean turned on the shower. 

“Do…do you want me to help?” 

Any other time, Dean would be thinking less and less with his brain and more and more with another. Except, this was different. 

He had never seen you scared. Ever. 

He’d seen you die. Twice. And each time come back fighting, stronger than ever. 

But, sitting there. You looked like you were two seconds away from collapsing into a coma and waking up with a panic attack. 

He didn’t want to leave you. 

And you didn’t want to be alone. 

“Please.”

Dean nodded and for the following fifteen minutes, tried his best to give you as much privacy as he could despite the fact he was the one lifting the clothes from your body. 

And it just occurred to him that he had never truly seen your skin before. 

Not in a sexual way, or at least, he wasn’t trying to think that way. 

No, you were always covered up. You got dressed inside the bathroom after a shower. It was rare he saw you in something that wasn’t a pair of worn out jeans and a t-shirt. Even when he had seen you in a skirt or dress, it was always floor length or you wore tights. 

But now he was seeing…you. 

From your back alone, there were at least a dozen small scars and half a dozen deep ones that had been stitched at some point or another. 

New bruises were forming on your sides from where you had been fighting against The Vamp. And your legs…a couple of nicks from a razor or two, a couple of bruises mid thigh which he could only guess was from each time you seemed to catch the corner of a table when you walked in the library. And then one large rounding scar that was bleeding. 

Thankfully, it looked like it would heal quickly. It was more of a scar that you would get from a dog. Red, sore for a day or two. But this time you’d have some scabs to go with it where your skin had opened. 

Dean helped you tilt your head back under the water before he washed out the muck and blood with a double shampooing. 

He had removed his boots and socks to step a little further inside the shower with you, the water dampening his jeans a little and the suds from your hair flicking onto his t-shirt every now and again. 

But he couldn’t care less. 

His focus remained on you. You swayed on the spot every now and again, and Dean made sure he kept talking to you, giving you quiet directions on what to do and where to turn so he could wash the suds from your hair and body. 

Once finished, he held out a towel for you which you stepped into and wrapped around your body as he leaned around you and stepped towards the shower to switch it off. 

By the time he was back in front of you, you leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around you without a second thought. 

“You’re safe, Sweetheart. No-one can hurt you. Not here.”

Once more, Dean helped you get dressed, being sure to check over the cut on your leg. He helped pull the last of your hair from down your back as you squeezed what was left of the water into a towel. 

Less than an hour later, Dean was showered and changed and brought a glass of water to your bedside. Except, as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head, you held onto his t-shirt. 

“Stay with me?”

It took him a second to realise you were asking him to stay. 

You never asked anyone to stay. 

He nodded. “Just give me a minute.”

You pulled the cover from under you and scooted down the bed a little, soon joined by Dean. 

As he got in beside you, he pulled you closer to his side. And you both stayed like that for a while. 

“I was so scared.”

Dean stilled for a moment before turning his head to face you. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I think I need to.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Then I’ll listen.”

“I didn’t even see it coming. I just got rid of one of them before I felt someone pull me back. I thought it was Sam, at first. But then he threw me. When I hit the ground, I couldn’t even tell where I was. And then they were above me. They must have hit me with my blade because all I felt was this…sharp, cold air on my head. And it was making me dizzy. I didn’t have time to get on my feet and by the time I opened my eyes…they were there. They just kept telling me to beg for my life. And every time they did, it was seven years ago. I was on my own – just before Bobby called me and said he needed my help.”

Dean could remember that day. Bobby had been talking about some woman hunter he knew about that could maybe help the boys if needed. 

The day he met you, Bobby walked them both through the kitchen and into the living room where you were walking around, running your fingers over a couple of book spines before pulling one out and leafing through it. Bobby called your name and you looked up, replacing the book and walking over, a side-arm attached to your hip, holding out your hand and shaking both his and Sam’s. 

“It was a normal ghost hunt. Easy. But I didn’t count on the ghost coming to defend their own grave. From what I knew, they should have been hunting for their next victim. Either way, I was thrown and I could feel their hand burning my skin, screaming for me to beg for my life. Bobby had asked about the make-up on my neck when he saw me a few weeks later. I said I was fine. And I was. But after today…” 

You shook your head and Dean felt you wipe away your own tears. 

Scooting down a little, Dean turned his body so you were no longer lying on his chest but instead curled into it. 

Dean moved your hand from your face and replaced it with his own, and placed his own forehead against yours. 

His thumb brushed just a little under your eye, catching the tears as they fell. 

“I’m sorry you went through that on your own. You’re allowed to be scared, but you should never be scared alone.”

“T-Thank you, for helping me.”

Dean shook his head. “You never have to thank me for helping you. Even the best of us need help.”

You tried your best to stop them, but they flowed anyway. 

“I’m so sorry,”

Dean’s heart broke. 

Dean shook his head once more, holding you tighter against him and your own hands gripped at his t-shirt. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

That night, Dean held you close to him, not once letting you go. And you fell asleep, crying in his arms. 

[bossidiotart]

Part 2 of this. @endlesslogo tagging you in case you wanna read part 2 of the story inspired by your art

Donnie stared down at his chiming phone. A number he didn’t recognise lit up the top. After the third ring, he turned off his phone and pocketed it. If it’s anything truly important, the caller could just leave a message. He turned back to his project and continued soldering.

The clock on his vambrace screen reads nearly 3am. He wonders if Leo had managed to go to sleep. He hasn’t come in to pester him all night long. Good. It’s always a good sign when Leo finally gets to sleep. Hopefully he’s getting a restful sleep and peaceful dreams.

Yet..something in the back of his mind is nagging at him.

The notification for a voicemail sounded in his pocket. Guess whoever was calling had something important to say. Likelihoods of what it could be played in his mind as he set down the solder and pulled out his phone again. He opened it and went into his voicemail. He tapped on the transcript.

Donnie. Donnie, please, come get me.

..huh?

I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but…

Donnie tapped the play button and put it on speaker. There was silence and some sort of static at first.

“Donnie.”

The soft shell’s blood ran cold. Leo? Donnie listened to the message that was transcribed, still as a statue. Leo sounded terrified. His voice shook and was hushed as though he were hiding from something.

“-or-or how I got here, but-“

A deep rumble that almost sounded like thunder emitted, pulling a gasp out of his brother. A pause that felt like an hour long stretched out. Then, a horrific scream. It chilled Donnie to the bone and made him want to hide deep inside a hole. Another scream joined in; Donnie realised with horror that it’s Leo screaming. A loud crash, and the voicemail cut out.

Ear-splitting silence settled. Donnie sat paralysed. He jolted and swiped at his vambrace. The trackers blipped on screen, and he immediately searched for Leo’s.

…wait, what?

His tracker is in his room. That’s not possible. Unless…

Donnie dashed out of his lab, leaping down stairs and hurdling over unpacked boxes. Leo’s room soon came into sight; he slid in front of the door and threw it open.

“Leo?!”

He quickly scanned the room. His eyes landed on the sleeping form of his twin. Confusion settled in his mind like sticky, melted marshmallow. What the fuck? Leo’s here? But the voicemail…

Annoyance bubbled. He stomped into Leo’s room.

“Nardo, if this is some kind of sick prank, I’m really not in the mood.” Donnie shook his allegedly sleeping brother. “Come on, dum-dum, I know you’re not actually asleep. What the hell was that voicemail?” He shook him harder. Annoyance built. “Nardo! Leo, wake up!” He still doesn’t stir. Donnie scoffed and pulled Leo onto his back. The slider’s eyes remain closed, his face slack. The elder pulled the younger’s eyelids apart. Donnie’s eyes widened. That’s…not normal.

The pupil in Leo’s eye had blown so wide he could hardly see the reddish iris. Donnie let go of the eyelids and opened the other eye. Same thing. This.. this cannot be good. He pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight and shone it in Leo’s eye. It didn’t react. Oh, this is definitely not good. Donnie chewed on his lip as he tested Leo’s other eye, getting the same result. What to do, what to do.

Leo is alive, thankfully. He’ll have to check his vitals to be sure he’s truly alright, however. Donnie glanced at the time on his phone screen. Nearly 3:30am. Raph won’t be up for another 3 to 4 hours. Donnie took in a breath, cornered a resolve, and scooped Leo up from his bed. The soft shell trotted down to the med bay, his stomach twisting at how limp his brother is. He shouldered his way into the med bay and set Leo down on the bed. His heart pounded as he tested Leo’s vitals. With each one that passes, he feels a little better but at the same time worse.

Donnie slapped a wrist monitor on him and fell into a nearby chair. His vision zeroed in on the monitor until it was all he could see. Resting heart rate is normal. Rhythm is normal. He instinctively slipped his hand into his sweater pocket and pulled out his phone. He reopened the phone app; he stared at the number Leo called from. He tapped on it and brought it up to his ear.

“The number you have reached-“

It didn’t even ring.

Donnie hung up. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and stared hard at the wrist monitor. Leo’s stupid heart mockingly beat at its normal rhythm. Donnie’s pocket buzzed and burst out into song.

The soft shell yanked his phone out and stared at the unknown number on the screen. His heart pounded. His hands trembled. He hit the green button and held it to his ear.

“…hello?”

“Ohmigosh thank the spirits you picked up!” Leo’s unmistakable voice came through the speaker. “You got my voicemail, right??”

Donnie swallowed against the confusion and fear as he stared at his comatose twin in front of him.

“I did.”

“Great! So you guys are on your way, right?”

Donnie stared at his brother’s still form.

“Don? You guys are coming to get me, right?”

“Uh…”

“Donnie?” Panic edged Leo’s voice. Donnie took a breath.

“We…can’t find you.”

“…what?”

Donnie gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“I mean, something’s up with your tracker. I can’t pinpoint your location.” Donnie’s leg bounced a hundred times a second. “Can you see any landmarks where you are?”

“Uhhhh.” Leo’s voice faded some as Donnie imagined him moving away from the phone to look. “Not really. It’s mostly trees, streetlights, and an empty road.”

“That’s not much to go off on...” Donnie muttered. His eyes flicked up, and his heart seized at the sight of his unconscious brother. Right, his actual brother is in front of him. But what about the one on the phone..?

He could try to trace the call, but what if it only points to the Leo in the med bed? Only one way to find out…

“Stay on the line, Leo, I’m going to try and trace this call.” Donnie pressed his phone between his head and shoulder as he typed on his vambrace.

“I ain’t going any-“ A distant rumbling sound cut him off. “Shit. On second thought, I gotta run. I’ll try to find another phone.” Click.

Donnie sat in silence. His fingers hovered over the vambrace screen. It blinked at him. His eyes stayed glued to the screen. His mind spun every which way in baffled attempts to explain. This…it’s not possible. He looked once more at his comatose brother. What have you gotten yourself into, Leo? On his vambrace, the screen continued blinking as a dot pinged over the med bay.

Part 3

[lizardboiii]

ANGER MANAGEMENT┃R. Sukuna

[Possessive!Sukuna x Fem!Reader]

・❥・

│Summary: Anger management was by no means your strong suit. No amount of lessons or prayers could change that. In fact, it feels like you’ve been doing a lot worse lately with the appearance of a new neighbor in your next door apartment.

“You're an insufferable bastard and I hope you move.”

“Eat shit and die.”

“Fuck you.”

・❥・

│cw: 18+, NSFW, vulgar language, non-con/dubious consent, nonconsensual drug usage, slight PTSD

│w/c: 4.3k

│chapters: (i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v) (vi) (vii)

│notes: There must be something in the water~ NeighborsAU!, AncestorsAU!

・❥・

│Chapter IV : TEMPTATION

Your body felt like it was on autopilot while you half ass grabbed an overnight bag and arbitrarily shoved essentials in. From randomly selected toothpaste to mismatched socks, you just couldn’t seem to get your thoughts to settle. Sukuna’s words took over your mind, echoing like a mantra.

“Have the desk worker call you an electrician in the morning, for now you can stay at mine.”

… stay at mine.

Your movements halted. Red in the face, you slapped a palm against your forehead to rid yourself of unwanted expectations. 

Why the hell did he even offer you that? Flustered, you racked your brain for any possible answer only to come up short.

Sukuna was a self absorbed asshole who practically lived to piss you off. If anything, you expected him to laugh in your face, then slam the door on you rather than offer you a place to stay.

You groaned to yourself and rubbed your forehead drained. What a day. You just wanted to eat dinner then pass out.

Finally working up the courage to leave the darkness of your apartment, you slugged over to Sukuna’s residence. Your throat felt tight as an almost ominous feeling leaked from the small cracks of his door, daring you to knock.

Taking a deep breath, you opened and closed your fists at the thought of what resided on the other side. A possible ending to your short lived deal with Nanami perhaps? Most definitely.

Debating on your current life choices, your eyes trailed the thin line of worn paint that just peeked past the door’s frame. Scenes of yelling and trivial disputes flashed in your lingering vision. 

Sucking in your teeth, you felt a pit grow in your stomach. It felt weird to go to his place for a reason other than to tell him off. Was it really okay for you to be there? To stay there?

But you just stayed there didn’t you?

Wrapped up in Sukuna’s arms.

Anger and resentment quelled by some unknown force.

You argued with your inner thoughts. No. That was different. You had Yuuji.

This time you were coming by your own free will. Not some accidental sleepover.

This time you made the choice. A choice to be alone with him.

My God, what was wrong with you?

Getting it over with, you moved an apprehensive fist to knock on the door. The distinctive sound was normally drowned out with every visit. However, this time the echo of the wood rang loud, traveling the length of the hallway. 

The noise almost reminded you of the tolling bells from the little church down the street. Bells which marked a new hour of reckoning.

Without haste, your pinkett neighbor opened the door with a straight face. You felt on edge at his much larger figure leaning against the doorway, but you felt even more alarmed at his appearance.

He was still shirtless.

For fuck’s sake.

Frowning, you kept your eyes trained on his ruby ones rather than allowing your eyes to lower. Terrified to trace his sharp jaw down the column of his neck to his chiseled chest which was so proudly put on display.

Thankfully, Sukuna was quick to gesture at your tense form with the nod of his head as he held the door open for you. Grateful to look at anything else, you mumbled an insincere thanks and entered.

A quick glance around the apartment’s entryway told you Sukuna’s place was just as clean as you remembered, not a shoe was out of place. You took a deep breath, and the air still held a familiar scent of pine in it.

Standing off to the side, you allowed Sukuna to lead you further into the depths of the apartment. His larger strides easily overtaking your own.

Whether it was nerves or something else entirely, your stare bore into his exposed back as a distraction from the uncomfortable atmosphere. You noted how the thick tattoos that took over his chest and arms snaked over his skin to adorn the canvas of his back. Dark and intimidating, as if they were mimicking their owner.

Sudden movement from Sukuna made you bite your lip at the flex of his muscles. Quickly casting your gaze to the floor, you frowned. 

Put on some clothes, whore.

“Here.”

You jolted in surprise when Sukuna's voice broke the prolonged silence. Casually, he propped himself up on his forearm against his opened fridge and held out a small bowl wrapped in saran wrap. 

Leftovers.

Though you wanted to be offended, you couldn’t help but feel a small prick in your heart at the unexpected gesture. The last meal you ate at his place tasted like heaven. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to eat Sukuna’s cooking again.

Gingerly grabbing the bowl, you smiled down at it softly, “Thanks.”

Sukuna answered you with a curt grunt before trudging off. Ignoring the blatant inhospitality, you threw your night bag on the ground and sat at one of the bar stools tucked neatly under the overhang of the kitchen island. 

Peering at your covered bowl, you felt your stomach growl at the sight of Zaru Soba. Best eaten after chilling for 30 minutes on the dot - no less - was your mother’s saying.

A faint frown carved its way onto your face. Resting your head against your hand, you began to twirl a fork around the noodles, idly picking at them. Soba was your mother’s favorite but it was also hers-

“Don’t tell me, you're a picky eater? How childish can you get?”

You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of a rough voice. Finding its owner, you glared at Sukuna who now held a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

“I’m not a picky eater, asshole. Just tired.”

Sukuna let out a puff of air, “Tired, huh? Then this,”

He placed down a bottle of dark red wine, “Should wake you up.”

Giving the wine an amused look, you picked the bottle up and studied it. An Italian name you couldn’t pronounce etched itself onto varnish. You whistled in your mind. Expensive shit for someone who lived in this dump.

Humming, you finished off another forkful, “Thanks but no thanks. I don’t work well with alcohol.”

“What?” A devilish smirk pulled at Sukuna’s lips, “Can’t handle a little wine.”

Irritated at the obvious blow to your ego, you slammed your fork down and growled, “I can handle my shit just fine.”

Sukuna filled a glass and handed it to you with a taunt, “Prove it then.”

An idiot could figure out what Sukuna’s game was. But as it always did, your pride got the better of you. Though, chugging your first glass in spite might have been a stretch.

Sukuna merely chuckled at your competitive nature and refilled your glass before pouring his own. You were quick to continue to sip on the wine as you finally began to finish off your Soba. 

In all honesty, you needed a bit of a buzz to finish off the familiar noodles. They held too many memories. 

Spinning the noodles around your fork, you watched as they slowly morphed. Their golden brown color suddenly looked a lot more like thick locks of hair. 

Dirty blonde hair. 

Your form went rigid as you let go of your fork. The utensil clanked against the porcelain bowl with a sharp ring, piercing your ears. 

Blurred flashes of red and blue entered and exited your vision with a disturbing uncertainty. Immediately, a panicked feeling began to overwhelm you as muffled music and laughter invaded your ears so loud you thought a night club might have been built inside your head.

Taking a deep breath, you counted down from ten before glancing back at your bowl. The locks of golden returned to their stringy noodle state and the music no longer played. Everything was back to normal.

Still shaken, you grabbed your glass of wine and chugged again, drinking away an unwanted memory.

“It won’t run away from you.”

Already annoyed, you put the glass down harshly and scowled, “I know. A lot on my mind is all.”

Sukuna scoffed, “You actually think?”

Against your will, a small smile tugged at your lips, “Pour me another glass and I might fill you in on these wonderful thoughts of mine.”

Obeying your request, Sukuna shrugged, “I can’t lie, I’m a bit interested in what rats think about in their free time.”

You threw him a mocking look, “A lot more than pink haired bastards.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Indulge me.”

Tracing the rim of your glass you hummed, “You know, I used to go to the same university as Yuuji.”

“You graduated from Yuuji’s school?” Sukuna lifted his glass to take another small sip.

“No.”

Abruptly Sukuna’s eyes fixated on you, almost too interested.

You casted your gaze to the marbled counter, “I dropped out.”

“Why?”

Finishing off the rest of your bitter drink, you let out an exaggerated sigh. In an instant your glass was refilled, slightly higher than the last.

“A scuffle, I guess you could say,” Swirling the newly poured glass, you watched as the red liquid brushed the edge of the glass dangerously close. 

“Scuffle?”

Your nose burned as you took another glutinous swig. Leaning against your plan, the world shifted slightly, practically disorienting you. Ah, looks like you’ve got that buzz you were aiming for.

“Ya, a scuffle.”

You yawned before the feeling of a glass being pushed against your fingertips made you pick it up. Sipping the half empty glass your brows furrowed.

When did you drink this much? 

Glancing up at Sukuna you noticed he was still on his first glass, its contents barely touched. Bemused, you turned your gaze to his face only for your heart to skip a beat. Sukuna’s eyes thinned as they watched you closely, almost intimate.

“What sort of scuffle?”

“…Some girl…no…friend. Though I guess not friends anymore.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “She ran her mouth to much and I just-”

You stared into the pool of red in your glass, its color reminiscent of the man in front of you. Blushing, you shook your head to clear your drifting thoughts.

Why the hell were you even telling him this? It wasn’t like you were some school girls who liked gossiping. Though in all honesty, it was nice you were actually able to talk to the man normally.

“Just what?”

Looking away from your wine you stared up at Sukuna’s empty spot. Instead, his form took shape close behind you. His larger hand placed itself next to your own as he hovered above you, inching closer. 

When did he get so close?

Your head spun as you moved a hand up to rub your forehead. Shit. You knew you hadn’t drank in a while but how were you this drunk already? Did you somehow revert back to some lightweight?

Your thoughts were interrupted as firm fingers placed themselves on your jaw, tilting your head up.

“Just,” Sukuna leaned in further, “What?”

“I just…”

Sharp cologne made you dizzy as you lost yourself in Sukuna’s closeness. The curve of his lips beckoning you to lean closer.

“Gave in.”

In an instant Sukuna’s lips were on yours. He held your face firmly as he devoured the wine still stained on your lips.

You gasped slightly at the aggressive treatment and moved your hand to his chest. The feeling of his bare skin against your own somehow made you feel drunker as need shot its way down your spine.

Entranced, your mind danced in circles as Sukuna easily slipped his tongue between your lips, massaging your own. You could barely keep up with his pace as your vision blurred and grip tightened.

Sensually, Sukuna’s other hand traced down your side before settling on the curve of your waist. You shivered at the size of it. Large and powerful. 

Everything about him was.

Your mind melted as you gave into primal desires and allowed Sukuna to take you in his arms. Wrapping your own arms around his neck, the clashing of your lips never wavered.

Suddenly, you let out a surprised squeak when you bounced against something plush. Letting yourself sink into the thick duvet, you watched Sukuna climb over your body through hazy eyes.

When did you get into the bedroom?

Your concerns were quickly replaced by pleasure as Sukuna began sucking and kissing down your neck, as if starved of your flesh. You whined as he pursued lower down your nape, reaching the beginnings of your breasts. 

With a muddled mind, you hardly noticed as your shirt was disposed of leaving you in your bra, bold black with enough lace to strangle a man. A choice you would later thank your past self for choosing in a hurry that morning.

Despite the accidental effort, Sukuna was quick to remove the clothing item as well before taking a moment to stare at your exposed chest.

His tongue grazed against his teeth as he flashed a wild smile, “Damn, Princess. I should’ve gotten you undressed sooner.”

You blushed at the unusual endearing nickname before slurring over your words, “First and last.”

Sukuna chuckled, “We’ll see about that.”

Your body trembled when he suddenly leaned down and took one of your sensitive buds into his mouth, nipping and twisting at your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shy moan.

Annoyingly, you could feel Sukuna grin against your chest as he brought his other hand up to your neglected bud. He swiped a rough thumb across your nipple before mercilessly rolling it between his fingers.

You whined as his hands and mouth worked you open. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you rubbed your legs together, desperate for friction. For release.

The growing heat in your stomach combined with the mist in your mind was starting to become too much. 

“Aw.”

You whimpered at Sukuna’s deep voice.

“Does my Princess need some relief?”

An embarrassing sob escaped your mouth at his usage of ‘my’. 

“P-Please.”

Smirking, Sukuna pushed his knee between your legs, “Earn it, Princess.”

You froze at the sudden pressure. Sukuna playfully rubbed your growing heat tauntingly.

“Come on,” his lips ghosted up your neck, “be good and I’ll help out a bit.”

Hesitating, you gently moved your hips up and started to slowly rub your aching heat against his knee. A spark shot up your spine as you tentatively began to pick up your pace.

“That’s it.”

Sukuna’s words encouraged your growing confidence. You bit back a moan as you rutted against him harder, wanting to be good. To please him.

“Keep going for me, Princess.”

Forgetting your pride, you gripped his shoulders in a tight grasp as you frantically sought after stimulation. The rapid jerk in your hips grew as a knot began to form in your stomach, his knee edging you.

Abruptly, Sukuna bit down on your nipple harshly, drawing blood. 

You whimpered as the action almost sent you over the edge, “Please.”

Sukuna lapped the blood up, “You're doing so good for me.”

Like a trigger, white flashed behind your eyes as your hips began to twitch and move on their own. With a silent moan, the cord in your stomach violently snapped.

“Good girl.”

Your body dropped to the bed as you let out heavy breaths. The uncomfortable feeling of wetness in your pants was almost enough to sober you up before strong hands hooked around your waist band.

Sukuna ripped off your pants and underwear in one swipe before throwing the soiled garments to the floor with a soft thump. The action making you shiver at the sudden rush of cold air. 

Embarrassment filled your cheeks as you watched Sukuna loom over your bare form with greedy eyes.

Quickly clamping your legs together, you heard Sukuna chuckle, “Don’t be shy now, Princess.”

You bit your lip as Sukuna placed a large hand on either knee and pushed your legs apart, exposing your already dripping cunt.

A wolfish look took hold of Sukuna’s face as he licked his lips. Your heart clenched at the sight, almost telling you to run. Unfortunately, your body felt too heavy and your mind too groggy.

Roughly, Sukuna swung your legs over his shoulders as he bent down. Your vision spotted at the sudden movement before completely going out. 

Opening heavy eyelids, you cried out when you returned to something soft licking up your folds. Glancing down, you flushed at the sight of Sukuna, or two Sukuna’s as your vision swirled.

His four hands were firmly placed on your thighs as he ate you out, six eyes locked on your own. With the flick of his tongue, you threw your head back against a pillow as he began to swirl his tongue against your aching bud.

Clinging to the bed sheets, incomprehensible words spilled from your agape mouth as you tried to beg for mercy. Hot tears steamed down the curve of your cheek as your eyes rolled.

Trying to regain any form of consciousness, you forced your eyes to stare at the ceiling. Black dots dotted your vision once again when Sukuna’s tongue eventually made its way to your slit, entering slowly. 

It was too much. 

Your head pounded as your legs spasmed against Sukuna’s hold. You felt like you were going to throw up.

“Shit.”

Sukuna’s voice felt distant in your ears as you faded in and out. Your body felt like it was shutting down.

“I must’ve put to much-”

・❥・

“(Y/N)!!!”

You could feel your grip tighten on your coffee cup as you ignored the familiar voice. The sharp ring of it almost caused you to burst the cardboard cup half.

“HEY!!! (Y/N)!!! OVER HERE!!” The white haired professor flung his arms around wildly in an attempt to catch your attention.

Your teeth grinded as you picked up your pace. Maybe if you walked faster he would piss off.

Glancing behind you to see if he had given up yet, you choked on your own spit as you noticed him running full sprint at your agitated form.

“WHAT THE HELL???” 

Your cup crashed to the cement, spilling the left over caffeine all over the concrete as you booked it. Speeding down Main Street, you left out a strangled breath as the back of your shirt was swiftly caught by him.

The silverett laughed as he held onto the thin fabric of your shirt with his pointer and thumb. The deep chuckle could render anyone helpless.

Anyone but you.

“Professor Gojo.”

He smiled at you through pearly white teeth. The action made a knot form in your chest. It was the kind of smile that you meant. A genuine one you didn’t allow just anyone to see.

Gojo has been your professor for three years now. A Criminology professor who had unfortunately taken a strong liking to you.

“How’s it going (y/n)? I haven’t seen you in ages!” He swiped a hand through his fringe, “Almost like you were avoiding me or something!”

You were.

“We have very different schedules, Professor. I’m sure we’re all just as busy near the end of the year.”

Gojo places his hands on his hips, “Professor? What are we strangers? Call me Gojo, (y/n)! Go - jo!”

You stared at him blankly. 

Undeterred, Gojo brushed off your open hostility and slug a casual arm over your shoulders, “Always so uptight, (y/n), I can see why your always hanging around Nanamin~”

Your ears flushed as you shoved his arm off you, “Shut up.”

With the flick of his wrist, Gojo spun your body to face him, “Is that anyway to talk to your professor, (y/n)~”

You tilted your head to glare at his cocky smirk, “Is this any way to behave with a student, Professor?”

Amused, Gojo threw another smile and released his hold, “Of course, of course!”

A small smile tugged its way on your face before you quickly quelled it, “I’ve got places I need to be, what do you want?”

“Can’t a professor just say hello to one of his favorite students?”

You gave him a look.

Gojo sighed and put his hands up, “Alright, alright. You got me."

"Do not go to Shibuya.”

You quirked a brow, “Why?”

Like a switch, Gojo’s mood soured. Brows tightening, lips perusing, and the ever so faint glare of his tinted glasses told you as much.

“Stay on campus, at least for tonight.”

You laughed off his attitude, “You're telling me, a third year, to not go to the pre-graduation party tonight? The one that happens only once a year? Once a lifetime?”

“Yes.”

Baffled, you shook your head, “Not gonna happen.”

Gojo leaned closer, “I’m serious, (y/n).”

Heat sparked in your chest as you gripped your hands in tight fists, “Why?”

“Just cause.”

You snarled at his vague answer, “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LIKE THIS?”

Gojo's demeanor pulled another 180 as he laughed at your enraged form, “I have something better planned anyway, (y/n)!”

Gojo pranced around you, “Why would you wanna go to Shibuya anyway? That place is loaded with felons!”

You clenched your jaw, “Listen Gojo, I’m going to that party whether you like it or not.”

The white haired man halted his movements, “I was afraid you’d say that.”

You stared at his pondering form in confusion. Clearly this man needs to be put on meds.

Your evaluation was only amplified as Gojo suddenly stood straight. In the blink of an eye heavy metal handcuffs snapped onto your unsuspecting wrists.

Your mouth fell agape, “THE HELL?!”

Gojo sighed as he threw your screaming form over his shoulders, “The hard way it is~”

“SATORU GOJO I SHOULD KILL YOU!”

・❥・

You woke up from your vivid dream with a start. Whipping up from the bed, your form shook slightly as you took in deep breaths of air. The room was silent save for the quiet ringing in your ears.

Sighing, you swiped a hand through your damp hair. Shit. You hadn't thought of that conversation in months. Why now?

You rubbed your face with your hands aggressively, whipping away any traces of sleep. The room was dark signaling daylight was far from near. 

Glancing around for your phone, you cursed when you couldn't find it. What you managed to find was a small digital alarm clock on the bedside table. 

1:11am

Damn it. Why couldn’t you sleep through the night like a normal person?

Your head pounded as sleep deprivation finally caught up with your awakened form. Groaning, you took in your surroundings to try and lull yourself to sleep.

Gray walls, white sheets, and a fait scent of wood.

Your brows furrowed. Your room didn’t smell like pine… but Sukuna’s did.

Ah, that’s right. You stayed over at Sukuna’s. But how’d you end up in his bed?

Pinching your brow, you tried to recall the events after leaving your apartment. Unfortunately, your memories got foggy around the time you ate dinner and were almost completely gone after that.

Your brain throbbed as you struggled to find answers. Nothing was adding up. In fact, where the hell was Sukuna?

A gruff sigh made your form go rigid. Peaking over at the other side of the bed, your eyes widened at said man’s sleeping form.

He was hard to make out in the dark, you could just discern his spread out form. One hand propped his head up while the other laid lazily beside you. 

Despite the low lighting, it didn’t take long to notice his lack of attire and it took even less to notice your own. Instantly, you grabbed as much of the white duvet as Sukuna’s form allowed you to and covered yourself.

What. The. Hell.

Your brain ran in circles as you tried to come up with an explanation for your situation. As much as you tried to pin it on some unseen force, you knew very well why you were in the position.

Why else would you be naked next to a man modeled after a god other than to have slept with him?

You weren’t that dumb, and you definitely weren’t some virgin.

But why him of all people?!

Spinning your body to the side, you placed your feet on the cool floor. The temperature felt nice compared to the inner rage you felt at yourself.

Seriously, what was wrong with you?

“You always seem to try and run away from me in the middle of the night.”

Your hands clenched the duvet, which now fell to your sides. A sense of deja vu flooded your mind. Would you choose to stay again? 

“(Y/n).”

No. 

Something was different.

You could feel Sukuna’s form rise behind you, warming your bare back. His larger hands covered your own which still clutched the covers.

Breath trailed your neck as Sukuna melted into you. An eerie silence shrouded the room as neither of you spoke. You simply basked in one another’s presence.

This time was different.

You didn’t have a choice.

You closed your eyes, allowing his scent to engulf you. 

“Why is it we only complete each other at night?”

“It’s easier to hide.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. He blended in with the darkness so much you were sure if his arms weren’t wrapped around you, you wouldn’t have known he was there.

“Show me how.”

You felt a chuckle rumble across his chest. It didn’t feel mocking as it usually did. It felt…gentle.

“If you learn how to hide any better, then even I won’t be able to find you.”

You rested your head against his chest, “Maybe it’s better that way.”

A tightening grip was your only answer. Slowly, he pulled you back into the bed, holding your frame captive.

You bit your lip. Who were you kidding? You were tired of hiding. 

Tired of trying to forget that night in Shibuya. 

Tried if being angry.

What’s done is done. 

Regret would only hold you hostage.

Sukuna’s soft breath’s tickled your ear, reminding you of his presence. Your heart throbbed. Sukuna. Who even was he to you? Cuddled up one minute then combating the next.

How could he be your damnation yet your salvation?

You squeezed your eyes shut. Maybe it was time to wear the rose colored glasses for a short while. Even if it meant getting hurt.

・❥・

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2 to this!

Eddie had never considered himself to be a lucky person. Could anyone really blame him? For one thing, he was eaten alive last year. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that he had been a twenty-year old, drug-dealing highschooler before he was sent to literal hell. All after witnessing multiple horrifying homicides. 

But now that he had Steve Harrington on top of him, shoving his tongue down his throat like his life depended on it, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. 

Part of him still couldn’t believe that it was happening at all. He had been fully prepared to just play the part of the pining best friend and suffer through his unrequited crush. He even convinced himself that it would slowly disappear after he got off the high of seeing Steve all bloody and gorgeous in an alternate reality.

But it didn’t. It just got worse and worse. Eddie’s crush just bloomed into a full-blown love. Because Steve Harrington was nothing like he expected. Eddie had never experienced this much whiplash when getting to know someone before. Steve went from highschool bully, to a monster fighting badass, and landed on an adorable, snarky goofball who Eddie basically wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

It had felt like such a long shot when he asked the question. The question that had been haunting him for months, but Eddie couldn’t help but ask. Not after everything he’d seen. At first he thought it was all in his head, just his overactive imagination trying to convince him he wasn’t alone in his feelings. 

But then he started noticing things. Like how Steve was always available to him, even when he had better options open. It was around the third time he witnessed Steve tell a pretty girl, “Sorry, I have plans tonight,” for him to raise a brow. Because the only plans he ever had was doing stupid shit with him. 

It was when he actually rejected Nancy in favor of getting high and listening to music in Eddie’s room that he got optimistically suspicious. It made him pay more attention, the little voice inside his head was getting louder and louder, that told him, maybe, just maybe, Eddie wasn’t the only one in love here. 

So Eddie let himself get a little bolder, terrified all the while but determined to figure out what was going on here. 

It was small things at first, touches that he would let linger. A hand on Steve’s waist when they puttered around the kitchen together, always giving him a little squeeze before he let go. Brushing his bangs out of his face, his hand curling around his ear before pulling away. Resting his head in Steve’s lap when they were sprawled out on the couch, talking about nothing and everything for hours. 

He didn’t miss the way Steve’s cheeks would redden at every touch, or the sweet little smile put on when he thought Eddie wasn’t looking. It made him feel emboldened, and terribly hopeful. 

So he let himself do more, obvious things that were not normal between two male platonic best friends. He waited until night, because despite what Steve said Eddie was not a brave man. At least then if Steve rejected the hell out of him, he’d never have to see his face. 

In theory it should have been easy. They shared a bed almost every night anyway, Eddie always making easy excuses to explain away why Steve didn’t need to go home. 

It was too late, it was cold outside, the trailer was closer to his work anyway, he could still be high from a hit he took two hours ago, Eddie wasn’t above a single excuse. And Steve never complained, he’d just nod along, agreeing to whatever stupid thing Eddie could think of for the night. 

They slept back to back, trying to hold onto some semblance of normal between them. And Eddie would be lying if he said the thought of breaking it didn’t scare the hell out of him, but that didn’t stop him from draping an arm over Steve’s waist one night. He had pulled him against his chest, heart on the verge of exploding as he waited for Steve’s reaction. 

He hadn’t expected him to turn over in his arms, and Eddie had been almost sure that he was doing it to ask him what the fuck he was doing. But Steve just sighed, all relaxed and happy as he snuggled into his chest, wrapping his own arm around Eddie’s waist.  They woke up tangled together, happy and restful. 

They never talked about it, but every night when Eddie opened up his arms, Steve went right into them. And God did Eddie love it, he loved him. And the idea that there was any chance he could be with him and he wasn’t taking it, was killing him. So he took a shot, and asked the question that had been plaguing him for months. 

And it fucking worked. Here he was, vindicated and rewarded with the most handsome, funny, kind boyfriend to ever live. In all honesty, not that much changed between them, considering how they were basically dating back when they considered themselves “friends”. But now there was the added bonus of being able to kiss the living hell out of him whenever he wanted. And the fact that Steve had apparently been holding out on him, because overnight he became the clingest cuddler Eddie had ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

Whether that be hugs from behind, arms draped around his neck in bed, or Steve clambering up into Eddie’s lap whenever the opprunintuity arose. And it was so fucking cute it made Eddie feel like he could die from happiness. And when he returned the favor, Steve would just melt. A hand on his thigh while they drove, an arm around his waist at friendly get togethers, any small touch was enough to make Steve a blushing, gooey mess. 

The whole thing was amazing and Eddie had never been happier. 

There was just one problem. 

For the life of him, Eddie couldn’t stop making him cry. 

The first time, he understood. It had been a bit of a dick move on his end, to force Steve to admit his feelings because Eddie was too chicken-shit to do it himself. He should have thought about that and he'd apologized more than once for the way he handled the whole thing, even if Steve insisted it was more than fine. He just…never wanted to be the cause of that sad, dejected face ever again. 

But then he did it again, completely accidentally. It had been a lazy Sunday morning, the both of them deciding to sleep in until someone from the outside world forced them out of bed. Eddie woke up first, blinking into the late morning light. Steve was draped across his chest, still sound asleep and only slightly drooling on him.

Eddie ran a hand through his tousled hair, completely lovestruck. The small movement was enough to have Steve shift against him, mumbling about it being too early to wake up. But Eddie was already trailing his hands down his back, more than ready to tickle him awake if need be. And it worked, it always worked, because the next thing he knew Steve was batting his hands away, a tired laugh escaping as he finally opened his eyes. 

He groaned as he blinked into the light, pouting up at Eddie as he rubbed his eyes, “You’re lucky you’re pretty Munson. Or I would have kicked you out of bed by now.”

Eddie grinned, wrapping his arms around him a little tighter, “You’d kick me out of my own bed? That’s cold Stevie.”

“My bed now. A consequence of being with me,” Steve laughed, snuggling closer, “It’s in the contract.”

The snarky comment on his tongue died the second Eddie looked down at him. Steve just looked so…relaxed. Unfairly handsome and happy to be there, tracing patterns along Eddie’s bare chest. He was struck with the realization that he wanted this for the rest of his life. Just Steve, with his bed-head and sleepy smile. Eddie had to look away, staring up at the ceiling as he was suddenly overwhelemed by just how much he loved this guy. 

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, embarrassingly earnest, “I think you’re the love of my life.”

Steve was quiet, but he could feel him nodding along as he traced Eddie’s collarbone. For a second, Eddie thought he just hadn’t heard him, and was doing that thing when he pretended like he did. He was a few seconds away from teasingly calling him out for it when he heard it. A soft sniffle, accompanied by a wet feeling, dripping onto him. 

Eddie glanced down, eyes widening at the sight of Steve wiping his tears away, trying and failing to be quiet about it. 

Eddie sat up, slightly panicked as he dragged Steve up with him, “Steve? Baby, what’s wrong? Was it what I said?”

Steve let out a wet laugh, “Not at all. I-fuck, Eddie I think you’re mine too. I swear this hasn’t happened before.”

Eddie was too worried to show how ecstatic that confession made him feel. He held Steve’s face in his hands, wiping away a few tears with his thumbs, “But you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I swear.” Steve sighed, leaning into the touch, “I’m just being a fucking weirdo.”

“My weirdo.” Eddie corrected before kissing him, the salty taste of his tears be damned. Eddie reasoned that he was probably just overwhelmed, which was normal, considering how Eddie was speedrunning the pace of their relationship. It was a fluke, and that was fine.

But then it happened again. 

It had been a completely normal day, no fights with anyone, no problems at the video store or with any of Eddie’s clients. They were watching a movie on the couch, Eddie’s head resting in Steve’s lap as Fame rolled on in the background. Steve was braiding his hair, absentminded as they commented on the muscial, both agreeing that Robin had really oversold it. 

Though Eddie was a sucker for the New York based movies. He used to dream about running away there when he was a teenager. Working and playing in dingy bars until he was magically discovered and skyrockerted into stardom. But now, at the ripe old age of twenty one, he was much more interested in going wherever Steve would follow. 

He watched the screen, mind wandering as he asked,  “Where would you want to go when we leave Hawkins?”

The hands in his hair paused for a split second before Steve answered, “W-what do you mean?”

“When the kids graduate,” Eddie continued, missing the stutter in Steve’s voice, “We won’t really have any reason to stay here right? It’s probably about time that Wayne got the bachelor pad back anyway.” 

“You…you want to live with me?”

Eddie let out a small laugh, rolling his eyes, “Babe, I don’t know if you’re aware but we kind of already live together.”

He watched the screen, someone whose name he forgot was starting another monolouge, “New York is a bit much, but Indianapolis could probably work. Somewhere with some options, y’know?”

Steve cleared his throat above him, fingers still working in his hair, “Y-yeah. Sounds good.”

Eddie smiled, pleased as he went back to trying to follow the plot. Then he felt something wet hit his cheek. He scrunched his nose up, confused as he shifted to look up at Steve, heart jumping when he realized what was happening. 

“Holy shit, don’t look at me for a minute.” Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands, failing to hide his sniveling, “Seriously, just ignore me.”

Eddie sat up, ignoring Steve’s protests as he pried his hands from his face, “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!” Steve insisted, avoiding Eddie’s eyes, “I swear, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”

“Sweetheart, if moving in together is too much to talk about that’s fine-”

“No!” Steve interrupted, voice loud in the small space between them, “I-I mean, that’s not the problem. Of course I want to live with you.”

“I don’t want to pressure you-”

“You’re not,” Steve insisted, grabbing Eddie's hands. He squeezed them, warm and comforting, “Whatever is wrong with me has nothing to do with you, or us. I swear.”

Eddie nodded, even if the worry didn’t fully leave his head. He couldn’t help it, because it just kept happening. Eddie was averaging on making Steve tear up at least once a month and everytime he would insist he was fine. That it wasn’t Eddie’s fault, he was just being a freak. 

It’s not like Eddie minded. In fact he kind of liked comforting him. And it didn’t help that Steve was fucking adorable when he cried. With his scrunched up nose and pretty wet eyes, Eddie was more than happy to be the one to kiss his tears away.  

He just wished he could figure out why it was happening, because despite what Steve said, he knew that he was the cause. It only happened when they were alone together, usually right after Eddie said or did something particularly mushy. He just wanted to know what he was doing wrong. 

It was starting to keep him up at night, and as embarrassing as it was, Eddie was having anxiety nightmares about Steve leaving him for someone who wasn’t making him weep on a semi-regular basis. 

Eddie blinked into the night, waking up from another one of those stupid dreams. He blindly reached over for Steve, his hand hitting the empty mattress with a thud. Eddie groaned, assuming he was in the bathroom, but knowing there was no way he was getting back to sleep without having him next to him. 

Eddie stood, deciding to get some water while he waited for him to come back. He stepped out of his room into the dark hall, cocking his head at the odd scene in front of him. The phone cord was stretched from the kitchen to the bathroom, peeking out through the half cracked door.  

Eddie stopped infront of it, curious as he made out what Steve was whispering through the phone, "Robin, if I cry in front of him one more time I'm going to have to change my name and flee the country."

Eddie snorted behind his hand, quiet enough to not be heard. He leaned in a little closer, fully aware that he should just turn around and not be an eavesdropping dick, but…if he could just find out why Steve kept crying, maybe he could actually do something to stop it. 

"I'm not telling him. I'm lucky I haven't scared him off yet as it is."

Eddie frowned, confused. That didn’t make sense, there was nothing Steve could do to scare him off, not after everything they had been through. Didn’t he know that? 

Steve sighed into the phone, sad and resigned, "I just…I don’t know how much more I can fall in love with him. When he ends it…it's going to fucking kill me."

Eddie could feel his heart stop in his chest. Where the hell did that come from? Sometimes Eddie spent half of his day just day-dreaming about their future, and here Steve was, thinking that he was going to end the best thing that ever happened to him?

"I know, I know. Maybe you're right. I love you too, I'll see you tomorrow."

Eddie backed away from the door, still feeling vaguely ill at what he’d heard. He slipped into bed, pretending to still be asleep when Steve eventually followed. He was back in bed for maybe five seconds before Eddie was reaching for him, tucking him tightly into his arms, like he could cuddle the doubts out of him. 

Eddie could barely sleep that night, mind-racing on what he could do to make Steve realize that he wasn’t going anywhere. It made sense, in the grand scheme of things. Steve’s parents were total shit heads who had no appreciation for the wonderful son they had. The only other person he’d fallen in love with besides Eddie ended up cheating on him, right after drunkenly declaring the fact that she never loved him back. 

And that wasn’t even mentioning his “best friends” who dropped him the second he decided to stop acting like a dick in highschool. Now that he was thinking about it, Eddie was kicking himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. 

Of course Steve would be worried about that. But Eddie wasn’t like them, he’d never be like them. In his head, the only way this relationship was ending was if Steve dumped him, not the other way around. 

If Eddie was extra clingy that morning, Steve didn’t complain. Even if he was making it a bitch for him to get ready for work. Eddie was still draped all over him by the time he was trying to get out the door, laughing at his antics all the while. 

“Someone’s needy today, huh?” Steve chuckled, prying Eddie’s arms away from his neck, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“That’s not soon enough,” Eddie whined, going as far as to follow him to the car. He kissed him goodbye through the window, not giving a single shit who saw them. Not when it made Steve blush and beam at him. He waved at him as he drove away, a plan already forming in his head as he started his day. 

If Steve had fears, Eddie would just love them right out of him. No reason to make a big deal out of anything, not when Steve was already so embarrassed about the whole thing. He would play it cool, and slowly but surely alleviate all of the anxieties. 

That was the plan, but the plan went straight out the window that same night. Basically the second he laid eyes on him after stepping through the front door. Steve wasn’t even doing anything. Just sitting on the couch, lazily watching TV. But then he noticed him, gave him that bright smile, and the floodgates just opened.

“I love you.” Eddie blurted out, making his way towards him, “Like I really fucking love you.”

Steve cocked his head, confused but still happy to see him. He shuffled over for Eddie to sit next to him, “I love you too?”

Eddie shook his head, “I mean I love everything about you Steve. Everything.” 

Steve stared at him, surprise still painted on his face, but Eddie just kept going, aware on some level, that he probably sounded slightly unhinged, but he didn’t care. He needed Steve to understand, “I love how much you care about everyone. I love how you take care of me, and how you let me take care of you. I love how your hair sticks up in every direction in the morning, and how you get pouty whenever you wake up. I love it when you’re bitchy and you make fun of my music. I love it when you get too excited and scream at the TV over basketball. I love the little blush you get whenever I call you pretty. I love all of it, and I want it for the rest of my life. ”

Steve laughed, quiet and nervous as he looked away, ‘What the hell are you even talking about?”

But Eddie wasn’t having that. He grasped his face, tilting his chin up to force them eye to eye. The tears were already starting to form, but Eddie wasn’t worried. He knew what they meant this time, “I’m talking about how you’re the only person I’ll ever want. I’m talking about how I want a life with you Steve. You and no one else.”

The tears were really falling now, and Steve was looking at him like he ripped his heart out, versus perfusing his undying love, “You…you shouldn’t say shit like that Eddie. You don’t know how things will change later on.”

Eddie shook his head, steadfast, “I’ll never not want you. I’m serious Steve. You’re it for me.”

They stared at eachother, Steve searching his face as Eddie kissed his tear-stained cheeks, “I want to believe you.”

“It’s okay that you don’t yet,” Eddie murmured, “I’ll just spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Steve let out a weak laugh, pulling away from his hands to hide his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, his self-proclaimed safe space, “You promise?”

Eddie kissed the top of his head, “I swear.”

It didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen. Their days together became months, months became years. Eddie never went a day without reminding him how much he was loved, Steve stopped waiting for the day that Eddie was going to leave, and slowly but surely, the tears stopped with it. 

It was ten years to that day, ten amazing years with the love of his life, when Eddie found him in their kitchen, making coffee and yawning while he absentmindely stared out the window, just as adorable at thirty-one as he was at twenty. 

He wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, kissing at his neck with a pleased hum, “You believe me now?”

Steve sighed, sleepy and happy as he leaned back into him, “Yeah, I think I do.”

[aswefindourwayback]

I love you, I’m sorry

Authors note: this is my most vulnerable piece of writing that I’ve ever shared since it’s taken inspiration from some terrible moments in my life. So it’s not my best piece of writing. Feedback is always appreciated.

Word count: 2071

Content warning: mentions of poor mental health, angst

you’ve never been able to keep people in your life, no matter how hard you tried. you would always change parts of you to fit other people’s wants and needs but it was still never enough. it got so bad that you were having thoughts about ending it all, thinking it’d be easier for everyone around you. they wouldn’t have to deal with your bullshit anymore and they could finally breathe again. but you instead threw yourself into your work.

you were already good at your job, but you quickly became the best. your work became your life. you stopped seeing and talking to your friends because you got so caught up in your work.

after years of working your ass off, you found yourself as a profiler for the FBI. you were now a member of the BAU. it took some getting used to and learning how to socialize but you got the hang of it. you guys were cracking case after case. you got along with all your coworkers and you guys often had fun together. you really loved all the laughs and good times you had with them, even outside of office hours. like that one time Emily, jj, and Penelope invited you out to go shopping and get dinner. it was something you were terrified of doing, getting closer to people and getting out amid socializing again, but you did it and found that it wasn’t as bad as you’d made it out to be in your head.

but there was one who you really got along with. spence. when you guys first met, you were both a bit shy and timid. but with time, you two grew incredibly close, always going to each other for anything and everything. and over time you fell for him, without meaning to. you knew it would complicate not only work but your friendship with him. your friendship with him means the world to him and you don’t know what you’d do if you lost him, so you kept your feelings to yourself. until one day, you didn’t.

it had been a normal day when rossi had called you into his office to talk about some case details. after going over the details and correcting him a few times, he asked you something:

“so, when are you gonna tell him?”

“what? tell who what?” you asked, completely lost in the conversation.

“reid. when are you gonna tell him how you feel?”

“spencer? what do i feel for him?” you said trying to play stupid. but it was rossi, he could see straight through you.

“Dont play dumb, kid.”

You slouched your shoulders in defeat, “no, i’m not gonna tell him.”

“Why not?”

“there’s a millions reasons to stay quiet”

“but there’s a million reasons to tell him too. don’t be afraid y/n.”

“easy for you to say. you’re not the one confessing your feelings”

“but i’ve done it a million times, kid. trust me. what if something good comes from this?”

“what if i ruin the one good thing in my life?”

“you won’t”

“how do you know that?”

“i just do.”

“what if it’s not the right time? like we’ve got that new case coming up and spence has been through some awful shit recently.”

“there’s never a “right time”. you just gotta do it.”

“i never intended to fall for him.”

“feelings are something we can’t control.”

“fuck. i’m gonna do it.” you say walking out of rossi’s office. the last thing you hear is rossi calling out to you “good luck, kid! not that you need the luck.”

-=+=-

you waited until the work day was over cause you didn’t want to make it very awkward in case you were rejected, which would very likely happen according to your calculations (you tend to distort your brain and imagine that the worst will happen for any situation). the odds of you being rejected were quite high so, you were just taking safety precautions. and if he still ended up rejecting you, you had it all planned. you would transfer to another branch. it’s not the best plan but you never claimed to be the brightest.

most of the team had already left for the day, so it was just you and spence standing waiting for the elevator, just talking about the paperwork you guys had worked on today. the elevator dinged, indicating it had arrived and the doors opened.

as you two stepped in, you took in a deep breathe and faced spencer.

“hey” you’d said.

“hey” he said, smiling shyly.

“so i’m gonna tell you something and i need you to let me finish before you say anything.”

“alright, i’m listening.”

“spence, i really like you, i mean really like you, so go ahead and reject me. i'm a big girl, i can take it. also you don’t have to say anything now.” you said at lightning speed, squeezing your eyes shut, afraid to look at him.

“y/n?” he asked as you felt his finger lightly lift your chin up.

“open your eyes, y/n”

you did as he said.

“i have something to tell you too.” he admitted, dropping his hand from your chin and shoving them into his pockets. your eyebrows were scrunched up a bit, hopeful of what his response would be, “i’ve never felt a connection with anyone before like this. I know that’s not surprising considering my awkwardness around people and my need to always correct people when they’re wrong and the fact that I shove myself into my job so much but i’ve dreamt of kissing you and feeling like i was on cloud 9. i started to notice when morgan kept calling me out for always watching you. and then i kept having dreams about you. not like any weird or sexual dreams or anything. just dreams where we hung out. just being near you. but i definitely want to see how this goes.”

“oh thank fuck” you said letting out an exasperated breathe.

that had made you both laugh. you felt like so much weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“so” spence has started, exaggerating the length of the word.

“so”

“do you wanna like, hang out now? we could go get a drink or something. or if you want to wait and stuff then we can do that.” he’d said, almost stumbling over his words.

“id love to get a drink, spence.” you smiled at him.

and he smiled back.

at the bar, you two mostly forgot about your drinks and basket of fries as you were so caught up in each others company. you spent the night talking and laughing. you laugh so much, you were sure you were going to have abs in the morning. you’d never felt so happy. he made you forget about all your worries. he was unbelievably amazing that it was hard for you to believe that he existed and that he liked you back.

you two stayed until the bar almost closed for the night. he walked you home and you two kept talking on the walk. once you two had reached your door, you stood in front of him, not wanting the night to end.

“thanks for the drinks. i had a great time.” you said to him

“thanks for joining me. i had a great time too. um, do you think we could keep this on the down low for now? i don’t want everyone breathing down our necks at work and stuff. and i just wanna enjoy us for a bit.”

“yeah, of course. i’ll see you at work tomorrow. goodnight, spence.” you said as you walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek, making both your cheeks turn bright red.

“goodnight, y/n”

-=+=-

the past few months have been amazing. you and spence have been doing amazing as a team, not just at work. so many nights were spent together, either in complete silence or going on stupid late night adventures aka going down to the gas station across the street from your apartment to get snacks. you were so grateful for him and you were head over heels for him. you never thought you could feel this way for someone. you guys had of course had some ups and downs, mostly due to you and your mental health but you always got through it together, and for that you were forever grateful. he was different to anyone you’d ever met. he actually wanted to learn about the things you struggle with and wanted to learn what were ways he could help you. and after a really bad episode, you helped you breathe and told you he’d stay with you no matter what battles you two would have to face, cause he knew in the end, you two would end up the winners. it was insane to think someone so amazing would be able to love the mess you are, but he somehow does.

until he started to distance himself. it started after a specific incident when you had said something that came off wrong when he’d already had a bad day. after that, you could see it in the way he would interact with you. his speech and body language had changed towards you. his messages became a lot drier, even if you were verbally talking, he’d seem so disinterested, it was disheartening. you wanted to fix things but you didn’t know how. so you decided to arrange a nice little date night for the both of you, so you could show him how much you loved him and to talk things out. you even wrote down a little letter to tell him how grateful you are for him.

when you entered the office to tell him about the plan, he was on the phone so you waited behind him, waiting for the call to end. you didn’t mean to but you eavesdropped a bit, he seemed like his old happy self when he was on the phone, and you overheard a name, “maeve”.

you decided to walk away cause the call seemed to be taking a while. you walked towards morgan’s desk, where he was sitting and talking to pen.

“hey, what’s going on with you?” morgan had asked as soon as you walked up.

“nothing much, just waiting for spence to finish his call so i can talk to him about something.”

“oh yeah, he’s been on his phone a lot lately.” morgan had said.

“really? do you know why?”

“there’s this girl named maeve that he’s been talking about nonstop. he seems really infatuated with her, it’s nice to see him this way.” pen had said.

it was at that moment that all those bad feelings came back. your heart felt as if it was being grabbed out of your chest, just to be bitten into and shredded to pieces.

“i gotta go.” was all you said before you walked away from morgan’s desk.

you walked over to your desk and grabbed your stuff before walking to rossi’s office door and telling him you were leaving early.

“you alright, kid?”

“yeah, i just forgot something.” you said as you spread the fakest smile on your face.

you walked out the office and looked back at spence, hoping he’d walk after you to check on you. but he was so caught up in his phone call that he didn’t notice you leave.

you walked out to your car trying to keep the tears at bay. you ripped up the letter you’d written for him.

was it all a lie?

did he really mean those things he said to you?

was he playing you the whole time?

or did he just change his mind?

you messed up again.

you made mistake after mistake and he finally got tired of you.

he was the best but you were the worst.

you’re wrong again, about being lovable, cause you’re not.

it’s the way life goes.

it’ll never end.

you felt like pink cherry blossom petals that were left on the ground. loved and cherished when in the trees, awed at when falling, then left discarded and forgotten on the ground once you were no longer attached to the thing that gave you life. always being stomped over and discarded. never to be seen or loved again. the way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.

[sadprose-auroras]

hiiii i was wondering if i could make a request for a hazel x reader where reader is beaten up by someone not from fight club and hazel gets really protective and rounds up the rest of the club to retaliate

Hey, thank you for your request! Sorry it took a hot min, this one took on a life of its own. Not sure how I feel about it tbh, but please let me know what you think! xx

Content warning: targeted violence, themes of bullying, cursing

Word count: 3.7k

You were well aware that Jeff, star quarterback, most popular guy in school, widely celebrated asshole, completely had it in him to take his bullying way too far. You couldn’t ever forget the first time you saw him beat somebody to a pulp.

It was eighth grade, and you were an awkward, shy thing, just trying to navigate schoolwork and friendships. To put it simply, you were figuring out who you were and your place in the world. There were so many questions swirling around in your head. Why did you feel an immense swirling sensation in your tummy when your classmate, Hazel Callahan, would sit next to you in class when nobody else would? Was it normal to be so deeply enamoured by the clothes she wore, her hairstyle, her school supplies, so much so that you would try and emulate an outfit she’d worn, to beg your mom for a haircut like hers, to buy the same pencil case she had, just because she was the coolest person you knew? Reflecting back, of course, you had a crush on her, and didn’t know how to express it. But at the time, you thought you just really wanted to be her best friend and not leave her side for a moment.

At this awkward pre-pubescent stage, Jeff and all his football buddies seemed to be way older, more mature, and you were terrified of them. Jeff, especially. He had always been a bully, shoving kids out of his way in the school halls and calling people derogatory names. But he only seemed to be getting worse. And every time you passed him in the hallway, your heart was in your throat as you kept your head down and walked faster. Was this the time he was going to target you?

One day, you were in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench with Hazel chatting about a book that Hazel had lent to you. One that, to your surprise and deep excitement, included two of the girl characters sharing a kiss on the lips. Vampires, at that. You thought that was the coolest thing ever. You’d read that same passage over and over, enthralled at that even being a possibility. It had crossed your mind that you really wanted to kiss Hazel like that.

“So… did you like it?” she asked with an expectant smile. You nodded incessantly.

“Oh my god, it was AMAZING! The vampires were SO cool, Kali and Anna were my favourite characters by far! I wanna be a vampire,” you gushed, flushing a deep shade of red when Hazel giggled.

“Dude, I knew you’d say that!” she said. “You so don’t wish you were a vampire, you love the sun!” You laughed and shrugged. She was completely right.

“You know me well, Haze,” you laughed.

“Hey?” Hazel asked, chewing on the end of the straw on her juice box. She looked nervous.

“Hm?”

“I have to tell you something.” Your heart started going a million miles an hour.

“What is it?”

“Well-“ before she could finish, a commotion out of the corner of your eye caught both of your attentions. You whipped your head around to see a large group gathered around two people on the floor. It was Jeff, holding down a kid and punching him. Over. And over. And over. You quickly realised it was a boy in your English class, Thomas, who you’d never really talked to but was a shy nerd like you. He seemed nice; he had lent you a pencil once. To your horror, he didn’t even seem to be moving. And Jeff was cackling. Maniacally.

“Oh god, what do we do?” you asked frantically. “We should get a teacher, right?” Although there were a bunch of kids cheering him on, it didn’t feel right.

“Yeah, come on!” Hazel said, grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her as you rushed off together to find a teacher. You couldn’t tell if it was the handholding, or the life and death situation, that was giving you more adrenaline.

------------------------------------------------------------

Now that you were all seniors, you were only more terrified of Jeff. He had never targeted you, luckily, but you had witnessed his increasing violent nature towards many of your other classmates. As for Hazel, the vampire book situation all those years ago had been somewhat of an awakening for you; you were totally, completely in love with your best friend. You never, ever told her though, your fear of rejection outweighing anything else. The closest you got was telling her you liked girls when you were having a sleepover for your sixteenth birthday. There was something about sleepovers that made you feel like you could talk about things you usually weren’t brave enough to. To your delight, she told you the exact same thing moments later.

Shockingly, you and Hazel had finally branched out and spoke to people besides each other. Your other friends, PJ and Josie, made you a perfect little foursome. You had bonded over your respective codependent friendships. You first heard about the fight club when PJ and Josie told you and Hazel over lunch that they had created a self-defence club to sleep with cheerleaders.

“We’re teaching them how to defend themselves, next thing we know, Isabel and Brittany are kissing us on the mouths!” PJ addressed Josie, flailing her arms around.

“Can we join?” you asked, then realised how that sounded, laughing. “I mean-“

Hazel squinted at you from the sun, furrowing her brows in confusion. Your heart skipped a beat; her eyes particularly sparkled in the sunshine.  

“You want both of us” – she pointed back and forth between herself and you – “to join those two” – she gestured at PJ and Josie – “in kissing Brittany and Isabel!?”

“No, no,” you say quickly. “The club. Can we join the club?”

“Yeah, sure!” Josie said.

“I mean, I guess, except we don’t want the losers to outweigh everyone else. No offense,” PJ says, and you shrug, entirely not offended.

“You’re not wrong,” you chuckle. “We are decidedly losers.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the murky intentions PJ and Josie had for starting the club, it began to take on a life of its own. The mismatched groups of girls really began to bond, and you found yourself emotionally fulfilled in a new way that you hadn’t really experienced before. Being able to talk about deep things with a group of girls you knew had your back, and vice versa, was life changing. You noticed a significant difference in how you felt at school. Before, you were on edge most of the time and relatively lonely in a lot of your classes. Now, you had people to sit with, to say ‘hi’ to in the hallways. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders that you didn’t know existed.

One evening after a particularly long club meeting, you were the last one to leave, packing up after everybody else had left. You were humming to yourself as you worked, the warm feeling you had inside from hanging out with your friends still lingering. It was ironic how beating each other up brought you so close. Once you finished, you left the gym, backpack slung over your shoulder and keys in hand as you walked into the carpark. You noticed a figure moving in your general direction out of the corner of your eye but didn’t think much of it; there were lots of people still around school, coming out of their extracurriculars. Just as you had unlocked your car, the footsteps neared, and you whipped around to be met with Jeff standing over you threateningly. You gulped.

“May I help you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as not to show how terrified you were of him.

“Yeah, actually,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ve had enough of your little girls group taking attention away from football. You’re all over the school, and it’s done. You’re all done.”

“I don’t know what you expect us to do,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” You shoved him away, going to get into your car. Before you could, he reached out and pushed the door closed.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and your heart sank.

------------------------------------------------------------

The first place you thought to go after Jeff beating you up was Hazel’s house. You practically sped to get there, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body. As you pulled into her driveway, you let out a sigh of relief noticing that her mum’s car wasn’t in the driveway. Barely stopping to take off your seatbelt before rushing out of the car, you ran up to the door and rang the doorbell twice in a row. It didn’t take long for you to hear footsteps, and the door swung open to Hazel dressed in sweatpants and a cozy jumper. She murmured your name, eyes scanning your face with concern.

“What happened?”

Without speaking, you practically fell into her arms in a hug, only crying harder. She engulfed you with her arms, stroking your hair comfortingly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she whispered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You hiccupped, pulled away from the hug and wiped some tears from your eyes with your sleeve.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You wordlessly took Hazel’s outstretched hand, following her to the bathroom. You hoisted yourself up onto the sink, swinging your legs. Hazel started collecting supplies: damp cloths, antiseptic, band aids, bruise ointment. As you watched her, face deep in concentration as she murmured to herself about what she needed, you felt a surge of love for her.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice dripping with sincerity. She looked at you funnily as if to say, you don’t need to thank me, don’t be ridiculous.

“Okay, I’m just going to-“ she said gently, stepping between your legs and beginning to gently dab the blood off your face. As she worked, you watched her, suppressing tears at the realisation that you couldn’t feel any safer and protected with her by your side. God, you loved her. As she applied antiseptic, she shook her head in disbelief.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, visibly seething.

“Jeff,” you said quietly, lip quivering. Steam practically blew out of Hazel’s ears. Her movements ceased for a moment, and she pressed her lips tightly together.

“He deserves to die,” she said matter of factly.

“I don’t disagree,” you murmur.

“Hey?” you ask, making eye contact with her. You realise how truly close your faces are, and your heart rate increases rapidly. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep your composure.

“Can I stay here tonight, please?” you ask, desperately trying to suppress the urge to be embarrassed. You just really didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” Her voice was so gentle, you practically melted.

“Thanks, Haze,” you said, as she finished cleaning you up.

“All done,” she said, beginning to pack away everything. You hop off the bench, taking the painkillers and water she hands you gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say as you pop the tablets into your mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water.

“Stop thanking me,” Hazel chuckled lightly. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You followed her to her bedroom, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept in each other’s beds before. Sleepovers were a major part of your friendship when you were younger, and more recently were particularly convenient when you got a little too drunk to get home. Perhaps there was something about the added layer of vulnerability to your state that was making you feel shyer with your best friend. As you contemplated this, shuffling back and forth on your feet, Hazel retrieved a soft t-shirt and shorts for you to wear to bed. She threw them at you, and you caught them with a soft smile.

“Thanks, dude.” You moved into an alcove in the corner of her room, turning to face the wall as you heard Hazel shuffling around, presumably getting changed as well. You desperately fought the urge to turn around, unsure if the tension in the room you could feel just at the thought of you both getting changed at the same time was in your head. But you swore, you could feel it. You pulled Hazel’s shorts up, tying them at the waist and trying to ignore the fact that the t-shirt she had lent you smelt like her. Although it was difficult not to. You folded your clothes, placing them on a chair, then turned around to find Hazel in a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top, sitting on her bed scrolling on her phone.

“You look cute,” she remarked in an indecipherable tone, and you couldn’t entirely tell if she was joking or not. Since eighth grade, you’d definitely developed your own style apart from Hazel’s, and her clothes on you were not your style at all. You poked you tongue out at her, as you walked over and got under the covers, snuggling down. It was easier to fall back into your friendship as it had always been in those moments, where you were unsure if she was feeling the same way. Otherwise, you might have to actually confess your own feelings, which was completely terrifying.

Hazel followed your lead, placing her phone down on the nightstand and pushing the covers back so she could get in, pulling them up to her chin and turning over to face you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for everything, Haze,” you said, shutting your eyes. If you looked into hers for a second longer you might actually explode.

“I’d do anything for you,” she whispered, so softly you could barely hear it. Before you knew it, you were drifting off.

------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning you awoke to sun pouring in the curtains, and you slowly opened your eyes, stretching your back and yawning. Despite the events of last night, you actually slept better than you had in weeks. The pain in your face had subsided a lot already. You rolled over to face Hazel’s side of the bed, heart sinking when you found it empty. Confused, you rolled back over and reached for your phone, touching the screen. Realisation flooded in. It was 9:00am on a Thursday. A text from Hazel was waiting for you, which she had sent half an hour earlier.

morning! i let you sleep, hope that’s okay. wasn’t sure if u were gonna go to school today. text me if you need anything <3

You smiled softly to yourself, eyes focused on the heart she sent a little longer than necessary. You quickly replied.

Thank youuuu, needed that sleep in. I think I will come to school, I’ll see you for second period probs xx

After hitting send, you got out of bed, making sure to make it neatly before deciding to go and quickly take a shower. After you stripped out of your clothes and waited for the water to warm up, you took a moment to examine your face in the mirror. It felt significantly better than last night, as if Hazel’s touch was magic. The bruising around your eyes was starting to come out, you had a small cut on your cheekbone, and the eye that you could barely open last night was much less swollen. You stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to relax your muscles with a sigh.

Little did you know, as you were sleeping that morning, Hazel had called an emergency meeting of the fight club. She was on a mission, and absolutely nothing was going to stop her. All she kept seeing in her mind’s eye was your face when you showed up on her doorstep, beaten and bloody, sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. To see you like that, the person she loved more than anyone in the world, shattered her heart. She had to get revenge, and she needed some help.

“Are we all clear on the plan?” Hazel asked, looking around at the group. It felt strange for the whole club to be there with you missing; she certainly noticed your absent presence. Normally, you’d be next to her, sitting cross-legged, and tapping your fingers on your leg like you do, exchanging glances with Hazel when something funny happened. She basically ached at the thought.

“Let’s fucking do it!” PJ yelled, banging the handle of a broom on the ground. Everyone else cheered and clapped in agreement.

“Let’s kill him,” Isabel said, narrowing her eyes with determination. She had her own reasons to want to do this.

------------------------------------------------------------

By the time you pulled into the carpark at school, the bell was just ringing, indicating the end of the first period. You weren’t going to lie, you were nervous about running into Jeff, but you prayed that there were enough people around during the actual school day that he couldn’t get you again. Just as you stepped out of your car, you heard a commotion coming from behind you. You frowned, swinging your backpack over your shoulder to follow the noise of people shouting.  Rounding the corner to the other side of the carpark, your hand flew to your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Hazel, along with all your friends from fight club, were stood over a football-uniform clad guy on the ground, who you couldn’t see from your angle. As other students had gathered around to watch, whooping and cheering, your friends were taking turns to punch, kick, stomp on, and slap the guy on the ground.

“THAT’S FOR CHEATING ON ME WITH MY SISTER!” Isabel cried out, kicking hard. That’s when it dawned on you; the guy on the ground, who was barely moving, unable to get out of the girls’ grips, was Jeff.

“THAT’S FOR Y/N!” Hazel yelled, in a voice you had never heard her use before, swinging both of her fists down hard on Jeff’s face multiple times. You approached the group, pushing past the onlooking crowd. You couldn’t believe how many people were supporting this. The way Jeff was thoroughly worshipped in school was obscene. Perhaps everybody was just waiting for someone to get back at him first. You approached your friends, taking a deep breath to yourself. They all turned to look at you as Josie was kicking Jeff in the head blood dripping from his mouth. Isabel was watching on proudly. You placed your hand on Hazel’s shoulder, and she spun around.

“Hey,” you murmured, smiling softly.

“I-uh-“ she began, as if she was about to explain herself, then you shook your head.

“Can I get in on this?” you asked, and she visibly relaxed, grinning.

“You’re not mad?”

“Fuck, no! You’re so brave for doing this, to be the first to give him what he deserves.” With that, you turned your attention to the guy lying on the ground, smiling at the sight of him groaning, bleeding, looking like absolute death.

“Hey, remember me?” you asked, before bringing your fist down on his face. Hard. And then again. And then again. And once more. Your friends, as well as the crowd watching on, cheered you on. The last punch you threw caused Jeff’s head to fall to the side as he passed out. You stood up proudly, looking around at your friends.

“I love you guys,” you grinned, and you all engulfed each other in a big group hug, all congratulating each other and saying how much you all loved each other. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Hazel’s hand resting on the small of your back. You all pulled away, and as everybody fell into chatter you grabbed Hazel’s hand and pulled her with you away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a laugh, awkwardly trailing behind you in a half jog, half walk.

“Here,” you said breathlessly, stopping when you rounded a corner to a quiet spot.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Your voice was still breathless, your head spinning with anticipation. It was now or never. Before Hazel could respond, you leant against the brick wall of the building behind you, pulling her toward you by her waist. She cupped your face, and your lips met. Desire pooled in your stomach as your lips slotted together perfectly, moving together in sync. Her lips were way softer than they looked, and you had spent a lot of time looking at them.

Hazel pulled away slightly, and you instinctively chased her lips. She smirked, eyes scanning your face. You flushed deeply.

“Oh my god,” she said in that voice that made you want to melt into the floor, and you laughed in disbelief.

“I know,” you whispered before kissing the corner of her mouth. She smiled at this, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes. If it was anybody else, you would feel insecure about your swollen eye and bruised face, you would worry that you weren’t attractive, but it didn’t cross your mind once with Hazel. She made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

“I didn’t know-“ you both started to say at the same time, then giggled. You were literally giddy.

“You go,” you said.

“I didn’t know you liked me.”

“I didn’t know you liked me,” you replied, laughing.

“Do you remember-“ Hazel started, then cleared her throat. “Do you remember that book I lent you in eighth grade about those gay vampires?”

“That was literally my gay awakening,” you said with a laugh, unable to believe that she remembered that. “Wait, what does that-“

“I’ve been in love with you since then,” Hazel suddenly said, and your heart caught in your throat. You pulled Hazel even closer to you by her belt loops, and she gasped. You kissed her more passionately this time, your head spinning.

“I’m in love with you too,” you murmured when you pulled away, foreheads resting together.

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Eight: [The Platform]

Summary: When Jake wakes up beside you after seeking refuge in your company, he’s forced to face a nightmare he thought would only ever exist in his mind.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Monday - August 14th 2023. Present Day

According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we are dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can’t imagine it’s true. 

We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves, then we bargain. We beg, we plead. We offer everything we have. We offer up our souls in exchange for just one more day. 

When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we have done everything that we can. 

We let go. We let go and move into acceptance. Or not. 

Jake didn’t know what the time was when he woke up. He didn’t want to know if it had been two hours or twenty, all he cared about was that he could feel you next to him. He could feel the weight of your bed dip next to him from where you slept soundly, peacefully. Most of it in his warm embrace, some most likely on your side. 

Jake rolled over under the sheet that kept his body from being completely exposed—usually he wouldn’t mind. He was a confident man with the women he chose to spend his nights with. Not that he had been spending nights with anyone besides you since before the mission. 

Usually he wouldn’t mind, he had a pretty good body. But now that Jake's body was battered and bruised, marked and scared beyond repair, he cared. He cared about the flimsy sheet that kept him semi-covered. He didn’t recognise himself in the mirror anymore, but with you? He felt safe, secure in his new insecurities. 

“Hollywood—“ Jake mumbled as he drew you closer. “You awake?” He mumbled into your hair, taking the moment to inhale the sweet smell of your shampoo. Bergamot and notes of vanilla. When you didn’t stir Jake kissed your shoulder. “Y/n? You awake?” Jake tried again but was still met with nothing. “Hollywood?” 

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Jake's stomach he wasn’t a fan of when you didn’t stir, when you didn’t acknowledge him like you normally would. He took a second to realise just how cold you were to the touch. How still you were in his warm embrace. 

How there was no rise and fall from the breathing pattern Jake had become so accustomed to these past few weeks, from all the nights you’d spent in each other's arms fighting off each other’s demons. Protecting one another from the darkest corners of the world. 

It wasn’t all that uncommon for Jake to wake up for you having an all out attack. Your Asthma was something of an enigma to the doctors and nurses that had taken care of you. Some believed it was all psychological, others believed it was a combination of your deteriorating health and the conditions you were kept in. 

Regardless—it scared the hell out of Jake whenever he woke up and you couldn’t breathe. But they were always loud and terrifying attacks. They were never silent. 

“Hey, Y/n?” Jake shook you a little to see if you’d react, but when all your body did was fall limp against him? Jake sprung up as fast as he could to find his phone. “No no no no no no—!” 

Once upon a time, happily ever after. The stories we tell are all just the stuff of dreams. Fairy tales don’t come true. Reality is much stormier. Much murkier. More scarier. 

“Y/n! Stay with me alright.” Jake begged as his hands shook, dialing for an ambulance as he turned back to look at you lying lifeless in your own bed, the safest place on earth. “Please don’t leave me now.” He begged, waiting for the operator to pick up. “Where the fuck is it?” He was looking for your inhaler, the red one with the warning labels on it. It was usually on your bedside table. You kept a blue one in your car and a green one in your bag. You always had one. Yet the one beside your bed was gone? 

“Hello, nine one one?” Reality, it’s so much more interesting than living happily ever after. Jake spotted the little red inhaler under your bed, the top was only just visible. Then it hit him. What if it had fallen off last night? When the bed was shaking and you were on top? The only place you deserved to be. In control and facing your fears. 

“I need an ambulance!” Jake cried. “I can’t save her.” He sobbed, it was his nightmare, the one that brought him to your front porch in the middle of the night more often than not. The one where you were taken away from him. “Please—please she needs an ambulance!” It rivaled the one where he was forced to hurt you. 

Jake gave all the information the operator on the other end of the line needed before he was back by your side. He was careful in his movements as you lifted your limp and lifeless body up off your bed and onto the ground. Kneeling beside you, Jake kept the operator on the phone while he started CPR. This he knew how to do. 

“Come on baby, don’t get off the train, stay with me.” It wasn’t the first time Jake had given CPR, but it was the first time he’d given it to someone he loved. “Please stay with me.” It was a rhythm no one wanted to fall into, that lifesaving rhythm while rib’s threatened to crack under the pressure. “Don’t you dare leave me here, not now.” One two three four and so on and so forth, Jake kept pressing the palms of his hands into your chest. “Not ever, you hear me? You don’t get to just leave me here.” 

You couldn’t die, not now. How on earth was this how you died? Why did you go through so much trauma, so much pain, so much suffering just to die silently in your sleep in your bed next to the man you wanted nothing more to love till the end of time. 

“No no no no, come on baby, come on!” Jake wasn’t about to give up on you. You’d been through too much. “Come on stay with me, just a little longer, yeah?” He wanted you to say okay. That you’d stay just a little while longer. But as Jake's cries for help echoed through your home he knew that you weren’t coming back. “HELP ME! SOMEONE!” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss, sharp sorrow, painful regret. As aviators, you’re taught to learn from and rely on the books, the tests, the science behind it all, the definitions, the definitives. 

But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow. 

Bradley Bradshaw had known Jake Seresin for almost his entire Naval career. The two had been at odds for most of that time, both too proud to admit their own flaws. They had both been the reason behind each other's callsigns, in heated arguments at whatever bar they found themselves in or after training sessions gone wrong. 

Hangman was the stuff of every aviator's nightmares. A cautionary tale that told whoever was paired up with Jake Seresin, that they would get left behind. But Jake had proven time and time again that when it really came down to it, when it really mattered, when it was life or death and nothing in between—he wouldn’t leave his wingman behind, or his weapon’s system officer for that matter. 

And as Bradley watched Jake crumble into the chest of the doctor who’d just told him you weren’t coming back, he knew that Hangman was dead too. He’d been dead since he was shot down. 

“The asthma was new, from our best guess we’d say it was a direct result of the environment you were both held in.” The doctor had explained, he was the one who treated you initially. “She had a lot of build up in her lungs, dirt, dust, it caused an infection we thought we had combat, but it looks as if it came back stronger then the first time and she didn’t say anything to indicate otherwise.” The one who bandaged you up and put you back together enough so that your inner demons couldn’t wreak havoc on the world. “I’m sorry Lieutenant, Hollywood was a good woman.” It meant nothing to Jake—he’d stopped listening after the initial ‘Im sorry’ had come out of Doctor Stevens' mouth. There was nothing else to do but process the fact you’d left him behind. 

And it felt like you’d done it on purpose too. Because you would have told him something was wrong if you were sick, but you hadn’t said a word. 

“Hangman–” Bradley cooed from where he stood by the door of one of the empty patient rooms Jake had found himself in. He was lost, lost in a world without you. Left behind to navigate through his own trauma. “Why don't I take you home?” For Jake it had been only a few minutes since he was officially told you were dead–the last thing he ever expected to hear after everything you had survived. He thought you were invincible, his wonderwoman of unbreakable strength and determination. But in reality, where happily ever afters didn’t exist, it had been three whole hours. “Jake? I'll take you anywhere you wanna go man, but you can't stay here.” 

“I saw her tortured Rooster.” It was the first thing Jake had said since he’d been told that you weren’t coming back to him. “I saw her have her bones broken and her body used against her.” Jake's voice was far too calm for Bradley’s liking, he needed Jake to shout, to be angry, to grieve. “She fought so hard to stay alive.” Ah. There it was, the tone Rooster was looking for as he stood across the empty space, watching as Jake stood to his feet. Hands balls at his sides. 

“She did whatever she had to do to stay alive and she did whatever she had to do to keep me alive!” Jake seethed through gritted teeth as he took a few heavy steps towards Rooster. Bradley didn’t dare move. “And believe me Bradshaw I wanted to die, I wanted them to kill me just so I didn’t have to live with the guilt of knowing that everything she went through, everything she felt, everything they did to her was a direct result of my actions!” Jake explained as he blamed himself even more for everything that happened. “She begged me to kill her because she knew what they would do to her and I couldn’t, I was selfish because I didn’t want to live in a world without her and guess what they did!?” Jake growled as he punched the wall beside him, his fist went straight through the drywall. “They did exactly what she knew they would do, one by one, day after day.” 

“Jake—“ Bradley tried to intervene but all Jake did was turn around and swipe his arms across the medical cart, throwing everything that had been splayed across the top to the floor in a fit of rage. 

“And after everything! After we survived! SHE GOES AND DIES FROM AN ASTHMA  ATTACK IN HER SLEEP!? RIGHT THERE IN MY ARMS!?” Rooster knew what it was like to lose a loved one, he’d already lost far too many, but he didn’t know what it was like to lose the love of your life. 

“Jake—“ Bradley tried again but it was to no avail. Jake was unraveling at his very thin seams. “They couldn’t have predicted it.” 

“IT'S THEIR JOB TO PREDICT IT!” Jake shouted as loud as he could, so loud he was red in the face as tears streamed down his cheeks. “JUST LIKE IT WAS MY JOB TO PREVENT THIS FROM EVER HAPPENING.” He shook his head in disbelief all the while he looked up to whatever god was on deck that day. “Just like it was my job to keep her safe.” 

“None of this is your fault.” Bradley tried to reason with the shattered man who stood before him. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened man—it was an asthma attack.” 

“I was going after you.” Jake finally admitted what he’d been doing when the pair of you were struck. You knew, you were Jake's first, only and last weapons system officer. You knew what he was doing before he’d even gone ahead and executed his plan. That decision caused your pain, your torment, your death. 

“What are you doing man.” Bradley sighed at the words his wingman spoke. He’d never seen Jake so distraught before. “Hollywood wouldn’t want you to be like this.” 

“It should have been you—That SAM was yours, Rooster.” Jake hissed through gritted teeth as he stood toe to toe with Bradley. “And because you’re so full of chicken shit, I took the hit for you.” It didn’t take long for Jake to correct what he’d said as he pressed his finger into Roosters chest. “We, took the hit for you and now she’s dead.”

Jake hadn’t yet passed his psych eval, he hadn’t yet returned to work because he still took medication for his heart. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to, but without you? There was no way in hell he was going back. He couldn’t breathe without you, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. How was he supposed to ever fly again? Without his one and only WSO. 

“And now more than anything—“ Jake couldn’t drown out your screams, he couldn’t stop his brain from hearing your gut wrenching shrills of pain. He couldn’t turn it off—the guilt, the fear, the anger. But he was still here, and you were gone. Standing on the platform watching him go by at two hundred miles an hour. Begging him to get off the train and join you.

Because the farm was just perfect, and nothing hurt anymore. 

In aviation training, there are a hundred different classes that teach you how to fight off death. But in those hundreds of classes there is not a single one that teaches you how to go on living. 

Oh what Jake Seresin would give to get off the train with you.

“I wish I was too.”

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Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 14: The Truth About Steven

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @whatthefishh

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary

The boys finally come clean about their past, and their disorder. You take it as well as could be expected.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu (as a deity), talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 2.4k

----

You knocked on Steven’s apartment door, and you could’ve sworn you heard him in there talking to someone before he answered it. Once again he looked different than the man who’d left you sitting in the library just a couple of hours ago. You narrowed your eyes. He didn’t look like the man you’d been meeting late at night outside of your dorm building either. Now his hair was slicked back, face more serious than you’d ever seen it look before.

You’d contemplated whether or not you actually wanted to give him the time of day. After your mental pep-talk, just before Steven had interrupted while you sat at the library, you were ready to let him go. You still thought that might be the outcome, but after everything you’d been through with him, you felt like you had to see it through. You pushed past him in a huff, walking into his apartment like you owned the place.

“For someone who doesn’t care about this girl, you’re wearing an awful lot of cologne compadre,” Jake commented as Marc watched you step inside.

“Have a seat,” he pointed to a chair at the kitchen table, ignoring Jake completely.

Immediately you noticed the distinct difference in accent. You felt a lump in your throat, and you fight or flight kicked in. This was the time to run if you were going to do it, but you decided to stay firmly in place. You held onto the strap of your bag like it would save your life if things went south. Steven had mentioned having brothers, but he’d also mentioned having a bad relationship with them. If this was one of them, you couldn’t be certain you were in a safe situation.

You shook your head, “no, I’m good to stand right here,” you said firmly.

Marc pressed his lips together tightly, “alright…can I get you a coffee or–”

“Can you just tell me what the fuck is going on already, Steven? I’m sick and tired of getting treated like this,” you damned your bottom lip for quivering. You wanted to look strong. “You took my virginity, then you broke up with me, and then you kept sleeping with me at night, now you don’t even sound the same?! Who are you?!”

“I’m not Steven,” Marc said bluntly, keeping his expression stoic.

You stepped back, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. Your breathing became shallow.

“Then y-you’re his…his brother?”

“No,” Marc looked away from you.

This was the time that he’d normally retreat, letting Jake handle the tough situation, but he knew that this had to come from him. Marc ran his hands over his face and then looked back at you again. You were terrified, despite your attempt to keep a strong expression. He could see the way your bottom lip trembled, and the way your chest was heaving.

“You’re really blowing this bruv, are you sure you don’t want me–”

“My name is Marc Spector,” he started, eyes scanning your face to watch for any change in your expression. “I’m not sure how to tell this story so…I guess I’ll start from the beginning.”

Now you sat down, realizing that this ‘Marc’ person wasn’t a direct threat. You put your bag on the floor next to you before crossing your arms, waiting for him to continue. Though you weren’t sure you wanted him to continue. Part of you wanted to tell him to fuck off right then and there and leave the apartment, but you stayed. Love really was a funny thing, forcing people to make the dumbest choices. You felt like you couldn’t go anywhere until you knew what had happened to Steven; your Steven.

“When we were young, we had a little brother. His name was Randall,” Marc started, walking over and sitting in the chair across the table from you. He looked down at his hands. “Ro was…he was the best kind of person; kind, loving,” Marc sniffed out a laugh as he remembered his younger brother, “everything I’m not.”

He looked at you again, you noticed the sorrow etched in his eyes, now glossy with tears. Despite your frustration with Steven and this entire situation, you felt some level of empathy for the man, his expression tugging heavily at your heartstrings. He looked back down at his hands while he continued his story.

“I got him killed–”

“We talked about this hermano,” Jake muttered.

“Jake’s right, you know that’s not true Marc, try again.”

Marc sighed, “we were kids, playing in the rain and we got stuck in a cave. I made it out, Ro didn’t. I was only ten, he was eight.”

“That’s better,” Jake said.

“Our mother, Wendy…” Marc heard Jake grunt at the mention of her name, “she was heartbroken, as any mother would be at the loss of a child,” he let out a deep exhale, “but she blamed me for all of it, ‘you should’ve been watching him, this is all your fault’, she’d say while she…” his voice wavered.

“While she what?” You asked, finding yourself invested in the tale, despite how disturbing it might have been.

“While she beat me with a leather belt,” Marc’s face got even more serious somehow, and you felt a silence lingering in the air with the weight of his words.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, regretting pushing him to finish his sentence.

“It was a long time ago,” he grumbled, looking back down at his hands again, “but I developed what’s called dissociative identity disorder. I guess it was how my mind dealt with the loss of my brother, finding a way to let him ‘live on’ even after he was gone. Taking all the guilt and creating someone within myself that resembled him in so many ways, while still being so unique and not really the same as Ro at all.”

The apartment was quiet again. Marc could tell you were being compassionate by listening, but he could also tell that you were ready for him to get to the punchline. How did this affect you? What did this have to do with Steven? Why the hell had you come there in the first place to listen to some thirty-eight year old man ramble on about his mental health issues?

“Steven Grant is that someone. He’s what you’d call an ‘alter’,” he watched you shift uncomfortably, “when DID was called ‘multiple personality syndrome’, he would’ve been called one of my personalities.”

“Are you serious?”

You dropped your arms down from where they were crossed and rested your hands on your thighs. If you were hearing him correctly, this man, Marc, was trying to tell you that he and Steven were the same. That all this time, you’d thought you were with one man, but really you were with someone else. He was a conman, and you’d never felt like such a damn fool.

“S-so what you go around roleplaying as a British college professor and preying on students just for a fucking laugh?” You felt yourself getting upset at the prospect.

Marc sighed in frustration, “no, it’s not like that, weren’t you listening to me at all?” You could hear the distinct Chicago accent coming out in his frustrated tone now, “I have a mental disorder, Steven is a real person, he is British, he is a college professor…your college professor and the way he feels about you is real.”

“Then what is all this? Hm? Why did he break up with me instead of just telling me the truth?” You stood up, feeling tears threatening to fall. “Why didn’t you just say ‘hey, I’m a fuckin’ nut job who likes taking advantage of stupid girls in my class’?”

“What in the hell is your problem? Huh? I’m trying to open up to you here, which let me tell you little girl, isn’t something I do often.” Marc stood up now, brow furrowed while he stepped closer to you. “After Steven broke up with you, I thought everything was going to just go away quietly, but you just had to keep it going didn’t you?!”

“I missed him!” You said in your defense.

The tears started coming down then, trickling over your cheeks. You felt embarrassed.

“No, you fucked your professor like an idiot, and didn’t think about the fuckin’ consequences because you’re young and naive,” Marc got closer to you, and with every step he took, you took a one back.

“Stop talking to me like I’m a kid, I know I made a mistake, alright? But that doesn’t change the fact that you could’ve, or Steven or…” you grumbled, “whoever the hell could’ve just stopped! If you didn’t want it that bad then you could’ve just stopped!”

Marc formed a hard line with his mouth in his aggravation.

“I tried to stop them, but Jake and Steven just had to have you. They couldn’t just leave you well enough alone. I didn’t even want to have this conversation with you but they insisted!”

Your heart stopped, and your voice got quiet again, “Jake? Who the fuck is Jake?”

To hear you talk about him like you had no idea who he was hurt Jake’s feelings, if he was being honest. It wasn’t surprising, of course, there was no way you could’ve known who he was, but it stung nonetheless. Marc had wanted to tell you about Jake in a calmer way, when you weren’t both throwing jabs at each other in your mutual anger, but it was out now, and he had to work with it.

“Jake is the other one,” Marc said in a slightly more collected tone than before, “he came about during my time in the marines.”

“You said you ‘tried to stop them,’…” you gulped, “what the hell do you mean by that?”

“I tried to stop Steven from seeing you which was…obviously unsuccessful, and Jake…I didn’t even know he was…” Marc couldn’t bring himself to say it. He looked at the empty water glass on the table next to the lounge chair, “Steven, please…”

“On it…”

You watched in disbelief as Marc’s entire body shifted, posture slouching a bit and his expression changing before your eyes. His brow went from furrowed in frustration to being turned up in concern. Either he was an incredible actor, or you were a fool.

“Love, I’m so sorry, I know this is a lot but, it really wasn’t my story to tell. I wasn’t there f’most of our life, neither was Jake so you see–”

“What did you do to me?” You looked at him, trying to decipher how much of what he was saying was real, and how much of it was a lie.

What a convenient excuse it would be to say that he had a mental illness, and that’s why he had to break things off with you. He could blame it on some disorder and make you feel bad for him, maybe even make you fall back into his arms like a pathetic and desperate little girl. If he was a good enough actor, surely he could put on a fake accent and slouch his shoulders a bit.

The other part of you, the part that still loved Steven so much that you wanted to kiss him until your lips went numb, that part believed him. That part believed that there was this man with a mental disorder who was struggling to navigate through his life and somehow you managed to get caught up in it, and he was just as confused as you were in that moment. You weren’t going to let yourself be fooled though…not again.

“Well remember love, it wasn’t me.” He cleared his throat, “right so Jake said that he saved you twice, once at the art gallery when you nearly fell on the steps, and again when you were in the bar alleyway and someone tried to take advantage of you.” Steven scanned your eyes to find the truth in his statement, “did that really happen, love? You must’ve been so scared I…I’m sorry–”

“Keep going,” you cut him off, not wanting any of his sympathy, not after he was the reason you were in that situation in the first place, and not when you were still unsure if he was being honest with you about this disorder.

“Y-yeah, right, well…” he cleared his throat, “J-Jake says he was really only going to give you a ride home but then, you kissed him and…and he tried to say no, but then you just kept pushing and he couldn’t help himself.”

You huffed out a laugh in frustration, “so if what you’re saying is true, Marc is a filthy old man with two ‘alters’ who just can’t manage to keep their fucking hands off a college student who is young enough to be their daughter, is that it?”

“W-well I mean, technically yes, but I wouldn’t put it like tha–”

The tears were freeflowing now, “and I’m just supposed to believe that you, Steven, aren’t just some creepy man who likes to play pretend and fuck his students and that this isn’t some sick and twisted game you’re playing? Hm?”

“Well, darling that’s not really nice to–”

“No, you know what Steven? You can have fun with whatever this is,” you gestured to his body, “I’m done for good. I was going to text ‘Jake’ that anyway, you know, when I thought he was you? I was gonna tell him that I was calling it off because the sneaking around was getting to be too much for me, but this is a whole other mess that I don’t want to be a part of.”

You grabbed your bag off the floor and went for the door while Steven was still stammering over his words.

“Goodbye Steven, or Marc, or whoever the fuck you are.”

Steven stood there as you slammed the door to the flat and left, taking a piece of his heart with you. He let out a heavy breath, clutching his chest tightly.

“Well there you go guys,” Marc’s tone was laced in sarcasm, “still glad we decided to have a chat with her? Hm?”

“Shut up puto…she’ll be back…”

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