#he puts it in off campbell’s back

[coffee-at-annies]

Oh that’s so pretty Rusty and so mean

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town ain't big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

[solarmorrigan]

Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

-

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

[hughiecampbelle]

Imagine being Hughies older sibling whose a doctor and Butcher instantly liking you:

Requested: anon

"Get out of my way."

Butcher had never been talked to like that before. Immediately, he liked you. He took a step back, giving you your space. The wound wasn't bad, but it didn't mean you were happy about it. The stitches were done quickly, messily, and your brother would probably have a scar, but he was alert, his breathing was normal, he was even making jokes. "Don't you ever do this to me again." You say, your words hostile, but your tone petrified. You were scared out of your mind, covered in Hughies blood. You were used to blood. You worked with blood. But when it was seeping into your couch, your clothes, hemorrhaging from your brother, it left you rattled. They didn't know where else to go, though. Hughie told them your address and they followed instructions. He knew going to the hospital was out of the question, they'd ask too many questions none of them could answer. So, you were the next best option.

"Promise, it won't happen again." He smiles. The painkillers you gave him were finally setting in. You placed your hand against his forehead, wiping off the blood. You and Hughie were always close growing up. You took care of him, he was your baby brother after all. You and him and your father were all you had. They supported you when you went through medical school and your father couldn't have been prouder of your career. As soon as you got your white coat your father changed your contact name to Dr. Campbell. After Robin was killed, you sort of became estranged. He disappeared more often, took longer to text back, rarely returned your phone calls. Then, a few months ago, he appeared out of the blue and told you everything. He couldn't keep it a secret anymore. The guilt was eating him alive. He didn't want to hurt you anymore, it was bad enough he was keeping it from Dad. So, you listened. No judgement, or yelling, just listening. You never thought it would lead to this, though.

"You," You say, turning your attention towards Butcher. "If you ever put his life in danger again, I will personally perform an autopsy on you while you're still alive. Got it?" You weren't like Hughie. You were bossy, and sarcastic, and crude. You didn't put up with any bullshit and you wouldn't let anyone get away with it, either, especially not Butcher. The last time you met, weeks ago, Hughie came to warn you, tell you about what was going to happen, that you might need to leave for a little while for your own safety. You refused. Butcher tried talking to you, but you were only interested in what Hughie had to say. You didn't like the looks of Butcher. Now, you actually had a reason not to. But he liked you. You were smart, you had an attitude, and you weren't afraid of him. He wanted to talk to you, to show his interest, but it was never the right time. Especially not now.

"Understood."

[envy-of-the-apple]

Keep Your Head In The Game

Yandere! Victoria Neuman x reader

(Warnings: threats of murder, non con touching/kissing, implied captivity)

Working at the Bureau had been your dream job. 

Vought had ruined so many people’s lives. It felt good to be part of something that stood against that company for those who couldn't. Despite not having powers, even you could be a hero. You'd worked under Victoria Neuman for years. You knew everything about her. 

And then Hughie Campbell ruined everything. 

You’d like to think of him as a friend. You and him had lunch together sometimes. You’d sit and smile as he went on and on about his girlfriend. He was a nice guy. You’d like to think that he and you were close. 

But Hughie broke you.  

Evidence. He’d shown you evidence of what she’d done. So much blood. So much gore. The orphanage, the files. 

“She’s one of them,” he’d whispered right before he fled into the night, “stay away from her. Quit. Please, for your sake, don’t go back to that fucking snake den.” 

And then he was gone. Just like that. 

Work in the Bureau continued as normal. Safe for the rumors of Soldier boy sightings, everything was so…fine, even without him. 

Even Neuman was unphased. 

She still smiled and laughed and told jokes as she surrounded herself with regular humans. She curled her lip when Supes were discussed. You used to love it when she brought Zoe around, but even her daughter you couldn’t even trust to be real. 

Victoria didn’t act like a Supe. 

But Hughie wasn't lying. 

Friday night. The bureau had a party going on tonight. Another Supe had been successfully put away. Those were always a sight, especially considering Gina would get shitfaced. You couldn’t go, feigning illness before you slipped out the night. You couldn’t enjoy yourself, not when you had so much to think about. 

Instead of enjoying the night with coworkers, you found comfort in the hardest liquor in your cabinet. Your one true friend. 

Not Hughie. Not anymore. Hughie left. Or maybe he was killed. Who knows. Who fucking cares. 

There’s a knock on your door. When you ignore it, it comes again louder. You groan, but you pull yourself off the couch eventually. Your neighbor again. You need to have a talk with her about disturbing you at odd hours of the night. 

“You look like you’ve seen better days.”

You can only stare. Victoria tilts her head. 

“Gonna let me in or will I have to stand out here?” 

Against your judgment, the instinct of always listening to your boss kicking in, you open the door. She elegantly steps in, surveying your home. 

She’s wearing that blue suit you’ve always complimented her on. Earlier, you would have admired her professional elegance. Now, it makes her look more inhuman. She looks even more out of place in your shabby apartment, studying your upkeep. 

“Sorry,” you say when you stop gawking, “I…I hadn’t had time to clean up.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Victoria waves you off. “Just checking in on my favorite employee. How’re you feeling, by the way.” 

“Good.” You quickly reply. “I was just feeling a little under the weather earlier. I hope I didn't worry you." 

"Why wouldn't I be worried?" She tilts her head, grinning with straight white teeth that get increasingly eerie the longer you stare. "We're friends, aren't we?" 

Before, you wouldn't have blinked twice at her words and tone. You would have mindlessly agreed, smiled even. But things were different now. You were playing pretend with a known murderer. 

If you close your eyes, you can still remember the faces in that court before their heads exploded. You'd been behind a screen, watching it all in horror and you remembered closing your eyes and begging for Victoria to be alright, praying that it would be okay if everyone died but her. 

And now to realize she caused all that? 

"Maybe you have a fever. You're shaking." 

You were. You clasp your trembling hands together, trying to ease your nerves. 

"Yeah." Even your voice was wavering. Calm down. Calm down. "I still might not be over...whatever I came down with."

The predator clicks her tongue in sympathy, cooing as she nears her prey. You force yourself not to stiffen when she wraps a sturdy hand around your shoulders, leading you over to the couch. You sit next to her with your thigh pressed up against hers. You feel like you're about to vomit. 

"You should rest," Victoria says, "take a few days off work. I'll let everyone know." 

"Yeah," you say because this is good, it'll help you focus on what you need to do next, "definitely, thank you." 

"Oh, please, don't thank me." She laughs. "I'm glad you're not in the office because you're sick. For some reason, I thought you were avoiding me. Y'know, 'cause you were scared, I would pop your head." 

One second. Two seconds. And then you're up, scrambling off the sofa. It's instinct to run from monsters, no matter if they would take your head off your shoulders on a whim, whenever they want. It's instinct to be stupid and careless and run. 

If anything, you should be grateful this monster is her. 

She's strong, like all Supes are. Even though you know what she is, it takes you a moment to realize it's Victoria who had pinned you against the couch, keeping you underneath her. You used to win arm-wrestling competitions against her. The pressure caused your lungs to tighten, making it hard to breathe. Even has you struggled, tried to claw at her hands, tug on her pristine clothes, she didn't budge. You think the worst thing about all of this was that it didn't even look like it took much effort to keep you down. Like she was wrestling a kitten. 

"Easy, easy." She hushes, tone soft and condescending. "C'mon, we're both adults, aren't we? Let's be civil here." 

Civil. Like she had any right to use that word after what she's done for months, perhaps all her life. Your heart is a hummingbird frazzled with fear, but you can feel that twinge of anger and resentment even then. Something else too: betrayal. 

"Why?" You asked, your voice failing. "Why, Vicky?" 

For the first time tonight, her mask cracks. Her eyes flicker, looking at your defeated body before coming back up to your face. She looks remorseful, but not guilty. 

"I didn't....I didn't want you to find out this way." She admits, slightly easing off you, enough to ease the force in your lungs. "Or maybe ever, actually. Fucking Cambell, leaving a mess, and then running off. What else can you expect from that guy, right?" 

You just stare. Victoria sighs. 

“Of all people, I thought you would understand.” Her voice wavers. “I thought you’d get it, somehow.” 

You look at her, and you feel like you’re staring at that girl from Red River. Scared and Trembling Nadia, who just wanted love, someone to lean on. Someone who wasn't scared of her. 

Then it flickers, and then Victoria's back. 

"You murdered a whole room." You finally say. "How could you possibly ask me to understand that?" 

She glowers, her frown deepens, and then she's sitting up, getting off you. You learn your lesson from last time, but you still huddle in the corner of the sofa, watching her. 

"Right, because I'm supposed to believe you feel bad for them." Victoria rolls her eyes. "Half of those guys vacationed on Epstein's island before the brand change, and you were there when those deep fakes came out. Remember Congressmen Davis? He kept staring at your ass on the House Floor, so I'm not sure why you're acting like they're suddenly men of valor." 

"Yes, yes, yes, they were terrible people." You press your hand to your forehead. "But you-we-we can't kill people. We-we're supposed to do things the right way and I just-" You choke on your words. 

"Hughie got to you," she notes, "I knew I shouldn't have paired you up with each other." 

"You lied to me." You murmur. There's no anger anymore, just heartbreak. "You lied to everyone. I thought we were fighting against Vought, but we've been in their pocket this whole time." 

"We're still fighting-" 

"You're Stan Edgar's daughter. We're in their pocket."

You press your hands to your face, squeezing. All the while you can feel Victoria watching. You ignore her. There's no point in talking to her, not anymore. You might not have known Victoria, but you know the Supe that committed a massacre. Her cover was blown. You were a leaking faucet she needed to turn off. 

"What now?" You ask, drawing up to look at her. "Are you going to kill me?" 

Her mouth twitches. Her eyes flicker with realization. A soft coo comes from her lips, utterly condescending. Suddenly, her posture changes: less intimidating, more welcoming. 

"Oh, sweetie, is that why you're so upset?" She shifts until you're trapped in her arms. You don't bother fighting. Your bravery has run out. Tears are already dripping down your cheeks. "You thought I was gonna...." There's a laugh spilling off her lips. You squeeze your eyes shut when she hugs you tighter. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Victoria says, a smile in her voice. "Not to you. Never to you." 

Her hands are so warm as she cradles your face, forcing you to look at her. It's a gentle type of cruelty, forcing you to face your fears while the monster gives you a beautiful smile. 

"I cherish you too much to do that." 

You must look so lost. She laughs even more at that. 

"Seriously? It wasn't obvious? C'mon, Zoe is crazy about you, she never shuts up. And I...I think it's better if I just..." 

Her lips are soft. Gentle. You don't kiss back. You can't. You're frozen in ice. 

"I won't hurt you." Then, her tone tightens just the tiniest bit. "You're friends and family, on the other hand..."

When she pulls away, she's the most relaxed you've ever seen her. You wish you could say the same. While her smile grows larger, so does the gaping hole in your stomach. 

You close your eyes, slumping in defeat.

"What do you want?" You plead. 

You can feel her lips press on your cheek. Victory.

When you walk through the door, Zoe looks elated. 

She calls your name with a delighted giggle, reaching out to hug you. You wish you could return her enthusiasm, but you can barely pat her head. 

"What're you doing here?" She asks when she's done hugging you, looking up at you with pretty eyes. Her eyes are much like her mother's; they just haven't lost their innocence yet. 

Neuman steps in, a strong hand on your shoulder. That same gentle smile that holds the comfort a mother has for her daughter. 

"Gas leak, right?" She turns to look at you. "Real nasty. So, I offered our home for a little while." 

Zoe nods. She's the only thing so far that's remained stagnant. Maybe that's why you're more than eager to listen to what she did at school that day. She rambles on and on, and there's nothing left to say anymore. Until Victoria sends her daughter to bed. 

"It's probably best to keep the real reason hush-hush," she tells you later, shutting the master bedroom. 

You're seated pliantly on the bed, watching her shrug off her cardigan. The mattress sinks underneath your weight. Silk covers. It's too big for just one person. 

You're not a captive, she explained in the back of her fancy black car. You could roam around, meet up with friends, call people, do whatever your heart desired. It would just be under her eyes from now on. 

"A safeguard." She charitably explained, perfectly manicured fingernails drumming on her thigh. "Just so you don't do something we both might regret." 

You don't know if she'd been telling the truth when she insisted your head was off-limits, but you knew she had your family's names and addresses. So you sat pliantly in that car, pliantly listened to Zoe, and pliantly followed Victoria into her bedroom. 

On paper, you weren't a captive. But you and Victoria both knew better. 

"Is Zoe also...?" You trail off, averting your eyes when she unbuttons her blouse. You can hear her clothes drop to the floor as she unabashedly rifles through her drawer. 

"No," Victoria answers. And then your heart drops when she adds. "Not yet." 

You shudder, but she's already sitting next to you. She coaxes you to look at her with a hand on your cheek. Even dressed down, she's gorgeous. Unblemished skin was barely covered by a silk gown. 

You think she looks just as upset as you. Maybe even more. She pets your cheek thoughtlessly. 

"When I brought you to my bed for the first time, I thought things would be different, somehow." She laughs. It sounds bitter. 

"I never wanted this. Not for us," Victoria says, "but-but there's nothing else I can do. It...." 

A tear drips down your face. She's pushing it away. 

'You'll be okay." A kiss to your temple. "I know you will." Lips at your cheek. 

When she finally gives into her inhibitions and kisses you, you know she was lying about it all. 

[impala-dreamer]

You Only Want Me When You're High

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ As the newest and most useless recruit to The Boys, Y/N is tasked with keeping an eye on Soldier Boy while Butcher sorts things out. Annoyed to be given such a ridiculous job, she tries to keep the defrosted supe at arm’s length, but there’s something in the drugs and in his eyes that makes him hard to resist…~

Soldier Boy (Ben) x F!Reader, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher

5,426 Words

NSFW, Sexual Acts, Excessive Drug Use, Just NSFW all around… 

“I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else” for @jacklesversebingo

JacklesBingo Masterlist ~ My Full Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Sunlight illuminated a cloud of bluish-gray smoke and Ben took another hit. He breathed deeply, willing the drugs to seek out every cell in his preternaturally powerful body and corrupt them long enough to give him a little buzz. 

It wasn’t easy. It would take enough drugs to kill a mortal for him to feel that sweet high, but excess was a word he wasn’t familiar with.

Eyes closed, he exhaled another stream of musky vapor into the rented room. He felt his brain shift to the left for a quick second as a faint bit of dizziness struck him. He grinned, leaned back against the headboard, and stretched his long legs over the hideous bedspread. 

“There it is…” 

Another hit boosted his mood and Soldier Boy sighed happily, momentarily at peace.   

He cracked open an eye when the bathroom door opened. 

He licked his lips when Y/N walked out with a dingy white towel wrapped tight around her damp body; her hair pinned up and safe from the shower. 

He whistled when she crossed the room, heading for her duffle bag. 

“Fuck off,” she snapped, rolling her eyes as his grew darker and more locked on her form. 

Ben chuckled under his breath. “Hey, sweetheart, you can’t walk around naked like that and expect me not to get stiff.” 

He shifted on the bed, tugging at his pants to accommodate the growing length against his thigh. She stared at his hand as it teased the shadow creasing the fabric, and swallowed hard. He was gorgeous but the price of a quick romp wasn’t worth the pain in the ass. 

He winked. 

She groaned. “Asshole.” 

“Oh, come on-” Ben took a long pull on the blunt and held it in, voice tight on the inhale. He grabbed his cock. “You know you want some of this.”

“The weed yes…” She turned her back on him, grabbed the bag, and tugged open the noisy zipper.  “Your dick… no.” 

He scoffed. “You’re shit at lying, Y/N.” 

Her cheeks burned but she tried to ignore him as she searched the bag for her clothes. “Am I?” 

The wide tip of his pink tongue flashed over his lips and Ben sat up, focusing on her. “Sure are,” he replied, tracing her spine with his gaze. “You’ve been acting like you don’t want to get on your knees, but I know you’re hot as hell for me. You’d suck my dick in a second if I whipped it out right now, wouldn’t you?” 

He watched the muscles in her back tighten as she struggled to hide the shiver that slid from head to toe. 

“You’re a pig.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged and leaned back again, bringing the joint to his lips. “Don’t mean I’m not right.” 

Y/N glared at him over her shoulder. “Butcher should have left you on ice.”

Ben grinned. “I’m still a little chilly,” he teased. “Why don’t you come warm me up?” 

“In your dreams, Grandpa.”

He patted his thigh. “Come on, Sweet Cheeks, hop on up here and show me those perky tits.” 

Arousal and anger swirled in her gut and Y/N grit her teeth. “Things don’t work like that anymore. You can’t just snap your fingers and have women swoon over you. This isn’t the ‘40s.” Her glare cut through him as sure as Homelander’s laser eyes could and his nostrils flared in annoyance. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put my clothes on before you say anything else.” 

She turned to head back to the bathroom, but he moved like lightning, blocking her path. She gasped when his big hand locked around her arm. 

“What are you doing?” She twisted her hand to break free and the bundle of clothes fell to the floor. “Let me go.” Her voice was shaking but as firm as she could make it. 

He laughed and tightened his fingers around her wrist. “Your pulse is racing.” 

She looked up and sneered. “That’s because you’re annoying the crap out of me.” 

“Or maybe, it’s because you want me to do this-” 

Soldier Boy tugged her arm and she crashed against his firm chest. She inhaled quickly, sucking in the heat of him, the dark woody scent of his body, and the stink of the drugs. Her head clouded and he took advantage, pressing his lips to hers in a rough kiss. Unconsciously, she opened for him and his hot tongue snaked against hers. She couldn’t hide the way her heart pounded- he could hear it. She couldn’t conceal the flush of her skin- he could feel it. She couldn’t obscure the dampness between her legs- he could smell it.  

When he let her go, Y/N stumbled back and shook her head to clear her vision. 

Towering over her, Ben smirked proudly and licked her taste from his lips. “Told ya.” 

Her palm cracked hard against his cheek and he cringed for her benefit. 

“Fucking asshole!” 

Staring up into his emerald eyes, she felt herself weaken but refused to give in. She hit him again.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

Another slap made a soft smile pluck the corner of his mouth and Y/N raged, giving into the rushing arousal that swarmed her thoughts and pushed away her common sense. She raised her hand again, but instead of a slap, she clawed at the nape of his neck and drew his lips down to hers, kissing him hard. 

Ben sucked in a breath, shocked by her aggression. He hummed when she licked into his mouth; slipped his free hand down her sides when she bit his bottom lip. His fingertips dug into the meat of her hips and she pulled back, looking up into his freckled face.

The end of the joint smoldered between his fingers, crumbling to ash like a pillar of Pompei. Y/N wrapped her delicate hand around his wrist and brought his fingers up to her mouth. 

Holding his gaze, she puckered her lips and sucked in a deep breath, pulling the drugs into her lungs. She shuddered and coughed, senses overtaken by the strength of the bud.

“Fuck…” 

Ben bent down to take a final drag and the cherry died. He dropped the dregs and pulled her close, slowly exhaling the smoke through her parted lips. 

She inhaled and her eyes rolled. Her balance skewed and she swayed against him. 

“Now…” He cleared his throat and slid his hand against the back of her head, holding her there. “How about you get on your knees and show me what a good girl you are.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “I have a better idea.”

He cocked a brow. “Really?” 

“Mhm…” 

Taking a step back, Y/N released the knot in the towel and let it fall to her feet. Immediately, Ben reached for her, but Y/N caught his hand, shoving it away. 

“I told you, things are different now.” 

Reaching up, she dragged her fingertips down his cheek. He leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering slightly. 

“It’s not just take, take, take anymore…”

Her hand moved slowly down his throat, tracing the thick muscle down to his shoulder. 

“Sometimes, you gotta give.”

His forehead creased in confusion, and Y/N explained without words, pressing his shoulder down and urging him to his knees. 

In awe of her suggestion and high as a kite, Ben slid to the floor and looked up with full-blown pupils and wet lips. As he watched, she ran her hands over her breasts, plucking each nipple until the flesh darkened. He swallowed hard. Her right hand dipped down between her thighs, carrying his gaze to her pussy. She spread her legs and rubbed gently, slicking her fingers with arousal. 

He parted his lips, ready to shoot another one-liner her way, but Y/N silenced him quickly. She pushed her wet fingers into his mouth and rubbed her juices on his tongue. 

His eyes closed and he moaned around her fingers. “Fuck…” 

She spread her legs and grabbed a handful of his thick hair. “Time to give, Soldier Boy…”

Y/N forced his face into her cunt, but he needed little prodding. As soon as her flesh hit his face, he started to lick and her body arched back in mounting pleasure. She tugged at his hair as he sucked on her clit; bucked her hips against his mouth when he pressed two hot fingers into her. 

He came up for air, sitting back on his heels and craning his neck looking up at her. His face glistened and his lips were swollen. He pressed his palm down over his cock and groaned. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he breathed, roughly stroking himself through his sweats. 

Y/N smiled devilishly and shook her head. “That’s so sweet,” she mocked, “but no.” Again, she grabbed his hair and yanked until he fell forward. “This is all you get.” 

Ben sank into her pussy, driving her wild as lingering smoke faded around them.  

He watched her through the car windows, staring as she walked down the street with Hughie by her side. They were arguing about something he couldn’t hear. Hughie’s lanky twig arms were waving in the wind as Y/N stood with her arms crossed and a hip popped in annoyance. Ben couldn’t give less of a shit what they were fighting about, he just wanted out of the damned car. He wanted to stretch his legs and wreak some havoc on that bleached blond, cape-wearing dickwad Homelander. 

Instead, he crushed another pill in his strong hand and snorted it back, humming loudly as the jolt hit his brain. “Goddamn, that is good shit.” 

Again, his eyes flew to Y/N and he licked his lips, remembering the sweet taste of her pussy and the noises she made while cumming on his tongue. 

As if she could feel his eyes on her ass, Y/N suddenly turned and met his gaze. She shuddered a bit but didn’t look away, staring into his eyes from across the street. 

Hughie waved a hand in front of her face, drawing her attention back. 

“Hello! We’re not done here,” he snit; baby face screwed up in anger. 

Y/N tilted her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Hughie. I’m not in charge of this shit. I’m just a babysitter.” 

She looked at the car again and found Ben still admiring her form. He had his right arm on the window ledge and his forehead against the door. She couldn’t see his left hand, but she could imagine where it was as he pressed his tongue against his top teeth and dropped his eyes down her body. 

Y/N sighed out a delicate moan. 

Hughie gagged. “Are you serious?” 

“What?” 

He grabbed her arm, turning her back around. “Are you fucking him?” 

Y/N startled and dropped her arms. “What? Who?” 

Hughie’s face reddened. “Who? Soldier Boy!”

Shaking herself, Y/N cringed. “Ew. No! Why the fuck-” 

“Well, you’re staring at him like he’s a fucking vibrator.”

Y/N laughed. “First off- that’s disgusting. Do not insult my vibrator like that. She’s one of my best friends.” She rolled her eyes. “Secondly, if I was gonna fuck anyone around here, it would not be that sexist junkie.” Hughie held his breath and stood up a little straighter. She laughed again. “Calm yourself,” she advised, turning away. “It wouldn’t be you either…” 

Ben slowly rubbed his cock through his pants, eyes glued to her curves. He laughed when she threw her hands up, obviously annoyed with Hughie and his problems. The twig man cowered slightly and his face blushed hot red. 

Soldier Boy laughed. “What a pussy.”

Three hours later, Y/N was half asleep in the front seat of the busted Lincoln, desperate to stay awake 

Night had fallen as they waited in the woods, trapped in a car by her sharp-tongued, bearded leader Butcher. Y/N wanted to get into the fray and stab something, but she had been bound to Soldier Boy’s side, tasked with keeping him content and docile until needed. 

She hated it. 

He was humming to himself in the backseat, happily learning how to access porn on her smartphone. It had taken some time to get him to understand the mechanics of the swipe, but once he did, he was off like a racehorse, Googling the most depraved acts he could think of. 

“Holy shit-” 

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes and looked at him in the rearview mirror. His face was lit by the screen and his green eyes were wide; his plump lips stretched into an awed smile. 

“What now? You find Hentaied yet?” 

Ben looked up, confused, but immediately went back to his discovery. “No. What? No. There’s… well, there’s two girls… and one cup… and-”

“No! No. No.” Reaching into the backseat, Y/N grabbed the phone from his hands and quickly shut it down. “You’re not watching that crap on my phone.” 

He laughed. “Crap.” 

“Ew.” With a heavy sigh, she tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. “You’re gross.” 

“It was on your phone.” 

“Because you looked it up- I- It doesn’t matter. Just shut up. Please. My head hurts.” 

Ben watched as she rubbed her temples gently. “Ya know… I have something that’ll cure your headache.” 

Y/N glowered at him. “Don’t you dare take your dick out.” 

“Not yet.” He chuckled and produced a prescription bottle, quickly popping the top. “This.” 

She leaned over to look at the three white tablets as they tumbled into his palm. “What is it?” 

He grinned. “My old friend Bennie.” 

“Um… pass.” 

“Oh, come on. You’ll feel better… it’ll… wake you up.” Ben winked and closed his fist, crushing the pills to powder. Unfurling his fingers, he offered the drugs again. 

Y/N declined with a simple shake of her head. 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” With a loud snort and a flip of his long hair, the pills were gone, launched up into his brain like a rocket ship. “Fuck!” He shook himself and laid back, pupils wide and skin tingling. 

Y/N couldn’t look away. He looked normal for once. The grumpy, disgusting aura was gone, replaced with a relaxed yet wired look that was more appealing by the moment. 

She huffed. 

He tapped a single tablet into his open hand. 

She held his gaze and nodded. 

“Good girl.” 

The drugs flew up her nose and instantly shook her brain. A bolt of lightning struck her head and every part of her came alive. Her pulse rose, her skin prickled, her pussy throbbed. She felt elated and wild. She wanted to rip her clothes off and run through the trees, feel the earth beneath her bare feet, howl at the half-moon. 

“Nice, right?” 

Ben smirked and her attention shifted from the fantasy of a naked nature waltz to a dream of him. 

Y/N bit her lip and reached over the seat to grab the collar of his shirt. The cotton rumpled in her tight fist and Ben fell forward, pulled by her lustful tug. 

She kissed him. 

He hummed and shifted closer. 

She pushed her tongue between his soft lips. 

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her delicious neck. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growled, pressing his lips to her pulse. “I wanna eat you alive.” 

Y/N moaned and dipped her head to look into his eyes. The move pulled her hair harder and the pain spread like concupiscent fire through her system. “Maybe later,” she teased. 

Her tongue shot out and lapped at his lips. 

He sighed lustfully. “For now?” 

Y/N bit down on his bottom lip and let it fall slowly from her teeth. His eyes rolled and she kissed his deeper. 

“For now…” Her lips slid across his cheek and settled by his ear. “... I want you inside of me.” 

Ben growled and grabbed her waist, easily lifting her over the seat and into his arms. She fell into him and went back to tasting his lips, moaning with every electric kiss, every twitch of his fingertips over her skin. 

He snuck his hand beneath her shirt, pawed at her tits, and teased each nipple in turn.

She pushed down on his lap, shivering when she felt his erection poke through the layers of fabric between them. 

“Please,” she moaned. “Please fuck me.” 

Her hands fell down his big chest and Ben’s breath grew ragged and heavy. He kissed her one last time and then shoved her away. She gasped at his strength as she ended up on her back with her jeans tugged away. He moved with lightning speed, removing her panties and kicking away his clothes. 

There was no hesitation when he was ready, no need to warm her up. Y/N was wet and tight, ready for him like she’d been edging herself for weeks. 

The moment his cock pressed against her cunt, she was gone, clawing at his arms and letting out wild curses of pleasure. 

He fucked her hard, pushing in deeper with every thrust. He watched her eyes roll and her muscles clench. He heard her heart struggle and the blood flow to her pussy. He knew her then inside and out and used every bit of his power to bring an orgasm crashing down upon her. 

“Fuck!” She dug her nails into his shoulders while the pleasure wrecked her body. “My god!” 

A cocky smirk played on his lips and Ben grabbed her hips. He lifted her like a doll as he settled back against the seat. Her legs spread around his trim hips and she instinctually sank on his cock, impaling her still throbbing pussy. 

“Fuck, fuck!” She bit her lip and locked her tiny hands around his thick neck, holding on as she began to ride him. 

The threat of her fingers on his pulse was enticing and Ben bucked his hips hard, fucking up into her as she struggled to stay upright. When she crumbled, he held her up, his big hand closing around the nape of her neck and keeping her spine straight. She was truly a ragdoll in his hands: a wet, hot, sexy toy for him to use. 

Y/N shuddered with another orgasm and Ben let go as she tightened around his cock. With a rumbling growl, he came, shooting up into her with a powerful spray that she could almost feel going deep into her core. 

Butcher had one foot out the door. He would have had both out and halfway down the motel hallway if not for Y/N’s hand fixed around his elbow. 

Her fingers dug into the soft leather of his sleeve and he paused, looking down at her. 

A strange mixture of anger and pathetic innocence filled her eyes and Butcher laughed. 

“You’ll be fine, kid. He ain’t gonna bother you none.” 

Y/N groaned. “Please. Just give me something else to do. I can’t stand it anymore. He’s such an asshole. He spent forty minutes this morning talking about Susan Summers and how good the ThighMaster was at tightening her pus-”

Butcher held up a hand, silencing her. 

“I gotcha, but ya need ta realize I got a lotta balls in the air right now and I need that ball under lock and key.” He pointed behind her to the bathroom. The edges of the closed door were glowing as smoke and steam escaped, leaking an odorous marijuana and Old Spice vapor into the room. “And you, darlin’,” he continued, poking Y/N in the chest, “are the lock.” 

She shook her head. “And where’s the fucking key so I can get out of here?” 

Grinning, Butcher shoved her back a pace. He grabbed the door and stepped into the hall, pulling it behind him. “That’d be me.” 

Her fist hit the door and her knuckles bruised instantly. 

“God- fucking- damn it!”

One door closed and the other opened. 

A naked Soldier Boy emerged from a dense fog of spiked steam like Jesus descending back to earth on a cloud. 

Y/N caught herself staring at his dick and shook herself, turning quickly away. 

“You can look,” Ben said, planting his bowed legs wide apart and setting his fists on his hips. “I don’t mind.” 

She gagged dramatically. “No thanks.” 

“Come on,” he urged proudly. “Take it all in. Bask in the glory!” 

“You really are a tremendous piece of trash, aren’t you?” 

With a shrug, he broke pose and went in search of pants.  

“You didn’t seem to mind it last night,” he mused, bending over a bag of random clothing articles. 

Y/N tried not to stare but his tanned skin was glistening with wetness from the shower and the muscles of his back were tight and twitching as he searched. Her eyes fell down his spine, lingered on his ass a moment, and then sank into the thick muscles of his legs. His thighs looked like tree trunks, his calves like branches she could entangle herself in and dangle forever. 

“Yeah, well… I’m an idiot sometimes.” 

Ben fished a pair of soft white boxers from the bag and turned, eyeing her as he toyed with the elastic hem, finding the front. 

“Sometimes?” 

She cleared her throat and narrowed her gaze, pushing every bit of annoyance into her stare. “Fuck off.” 

Ben smirked and tugged on the shorts. “You know, you’d get a lot more attention if you were nicer. Smile more. Be respectful. Put some damned makeup on.” 

Anger sizzled in her gut. “You didn’t seem to mind last night,” she echoed. 

Pressing his tongue between his lips, Ben nodded. “Touché.” 

Time passed slowly. 

Y/N sat at the head of the bed, leaning on the headboard with a bottle of Jim Beam slowly emptying into her.

She stared at Ben despite herself, always looking away, arguing with herself, and then looking back, getting stuck on something about him. His hair was so perfectly long in all the right places, and somehow gorgeously always in place. His beard was thick but soft like he’d been grooming himself for the last forty years. His eyes cut right through her resolve anytime he looked at her. At times she wondered if he had x-ray vision or could see into her soul. 

Still shirtless and refusing to get dressed, Ben paced the room. His bare feet dug into the thin carpet as he walked back and forth, seething with energy. 

“Sit down already!” Y/N yelled. “You’re making me dizzy! You’re like a fucking pendulum going back and forth.” 

Pausing by the door, he grit his teeth and glared. “Give me something to do, then.” 

Y/N shrugged. “If we had anything to do, do you really think I’d be sitting here? With you?” 

Giving up his worn route, Ben took a seat at the little round table in across from the bed and grabbed a wrapping paper. 

“Why do you hate me so much? What’d I ever do to you? Kill your grandmother?” 

“What? No.” Y/N scoffed. “I hate you because…” 

Her thoughts trailed off when her eyes fell on his broad shoulders. They moved languidly as he rolled a giant spliff, muscles rippling under her gaze as if her world had switched to slow motion. 

“Uh…” 

He brought the joint up to his lips and Y/N gasped slightly when his tongue jutted out to wet the seam. 

“You…” 

Green eyes locked onto hers and Y/N felt her pussy throb. 

“I, um…” 

Ben chuckled to himself and twisted the ends of the paper tighter. He sat back in the chair and clicked the lighter Butcher had left him. 

“You know what your real problem is?” he asked, letting the flame grow high before setting it to the end of his cigarette. 

Her heart was pounding, her skin on fire for wanting him. “What’s that?”

“You only want me when you’re high.” 

It was so absurdly true that she laughed out loud. Y/N shook her head and tipped the whiskey back, taking a deep drink. “You’re incredible, you know that? It’s like everyone has to love you but when they don’t, you make some shit up. Nuh-uh. You’re… shut up. I hate you.”  She took another sip for good measure and huffed in his direction. “You suck.” 

Ben licked his lip and took a drag. The exhaled smoke haloed his gorgeous face and Y/N hated every drop of booze in her system. They were all dragging her mind to nasty places that she’d rather not go. 

“It is true,” he argued, blowing a smoke ring high about his head. “And I think you like it.” 

She stiffened. “I do not.” 

“I think you do.” Ben sat forward and pulled in another hit. The drugs flooded his brain and he smiled happily. A few moments of bliss before trauma struck again. “I think you need it.” 

“Need what?” 

She watched with building lust as Ben stood up and walked to the foot of the bed. With the fag balanced on his thick bottom lip, he crawled onto the mattress and moved towards her. 

“You need the release,” he explained, hand over hand moving closer. “You need to be high so you can forgive yourself for wanting me.” 

Her heart skipped when he reached her feet. He was right and she hated it. He was terrible and she loved it. He was right there and she wanted him. 

“And honestly, toots- if that’s what you need, that’s fine with me.” Sitting back on his heels, Ben offered her the joint. “Go on. Smoke the guilt away.” 

As if moving in a dream, she took the pot from him and pressed the wet end to her lips. He held her gaze as she inhaled, set his hand upon her ankle while she closed her eyes, and slid it higher when the smoke billowed around them. 

“There’s a girl…” 

Whiskey and cannibus swarmed her senses and Y/N ran a finger down the middle of his chest. He was smooth and firm and covered in constellations of pale freckles. She leaned forward as he bent down and her lips caught his left nipple. He hissed when she sucked hard. 

“Damn…” 

Y/N looked up innocently while dragging her hand down lower. It brushed against the base of his cock and he sucked in a quick breath. 

“Another,” he urged, pushing the joint back up to her mouth. Her lips parted and she breathed deeply. “So fucking hot…” 

Eyes fluttering and thoughts swimming, Y/N gave in and reached into his shorts. She fit her fingers into a tight circle and stroked down the length of his cock, waking him up fully and making his chest expand with heavy breaths. 

“Fuck…” 

She grinned when he cursed; drooled as his head fell back with a pleasured moan. “More?” 

Ben dipped his chin and chewed at his lip, nodding. “Oh yeah.” 

Another hit did her in and Y/N shifted onto her knees. She pressed up against him and licked at his lips before shoving the joint between them. Ben breathed deeply and the cloud rose around them as she kissed her way down his body. She opened her mouth and lay it over his erection, breathing out, hot and heavy. He shuddered and his ass clenched. 

“Fucking hell…” 

Feeling somewhat outside of herself, Y/N looked up with hungry eyes and hooked her fingers into his waistband. “Oh, just wait,” she whispered, tugging his shorts down to his knees. “It’s my turn to give…” 

She licked at the tip of his cock and sucked a wet kiss over the groove underside. Falling fully onto her hands and knees, Y/N teased him with her lips, running her mouth up and down his shaft until he was bouncing on her tongue, fully engorged and leaking. 

“We need to keep you stoned off your ass twenty-four-seven,” he mused, halfway between a moan and a whimper. 

Y/N pulled back and gently rubbed his sack. “Why don’t you get more comfy?”

Ben cocked a brow and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

He turned and fell onto the bed, taking up her old spot against the headboard. She fit perfectly between his knees and went right back to work, shoving her hot mouth down his cock. She gagged and he groaned. She slurped and he yanked at her hair. She swallowed and he pushed her face down as far as she could go. 

“Now this- this is fucking fantastic.” 

Ben took a deep drag and blew the smoke down into Y/N’s face. She inhaled and her eyes rolled back, deeply aroused and stupidly high. 

She used her whole body to pleasure him. She scrapped her nails down his sensitive inner thighs, swirling her tongue over his sack, rubbed his cock between her tits. Her ass wiggled and her pussy dripped, throbbing and so close to cumming from simply sucking him off.

When she slowed, he bucked his hips. When she choked, he pushed her down further. When she shuddered with an unexpected orgasm, he egged her on with gravelly moans and curses that stunted her thoughts.

“Gonna drown you in cum, sweetheart,” he grunted, straining to hold still while she worked her magic. 

Y/N hummed rapturously, daring him to do it, to murder her with his release.  

Ben lay his hand flat on the back of her head and gently held her there. He was ready to explode and he wanted her to stay and swallow every single drop. 

When the door opened, he was mildly surprised, but unwilling to stop. He jerked his hips up into her pliant mouth and Y/N squirmed between his legs. 

“Holy fuck! Come on!” Hughie quickly shielded his eyes, but the damage was done. Y/N was sucking Soldier Boy’s dick like a porn star while the hero smirked like a moron. 

“Hey! It’s Baby Hughie!” Ben tapped Y/N on the head, but she refused to stop. She was enjoying the slick slide of his cock over her tongue too much to give it up. 

Hughie shook his head and turned away. “Y/N! What the fuck!”

Ben laughed before a tight groan worked its way through his chest. “Don’t get pissed at her,” he warned. “She’s a fucking expert cocksucker.” 

Y/N swallowed hard and his thighs shook. 

Hughie gagged visibly. “I’m gonna- this is- gross.” 

Taking one last hit of the dying joint, Ben narrowed his gaze on the lanky man shadowing the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said honestly. “Did you wanna get down on this?” He held out his hand, offering both the drugs and Y/N’s ass. 

Shocked, Hughie shook his head. “What? No!” His cheeks burned bright pink and Ben laughed. 

“Come on, ya pussy. I’m sure she won’t mind…” 

Y/N voiced her opinion with a harsh scrape of teeth down his cock. 

Ben hissed at the pain and shrugged at Hughie. “Sorry. It appears she does mind.” 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed her face into the soft patch of hair around his pelvis and Ben lost his mind. He gripped her hair tight and pulsed his hips in quick, short thrusts.

Hughie gawked at the scene and then struggled to leave. He spun in place and grabbed the doorknob, unable to turn it and escape with quaking hands and blurry eyes. 

Y/N could feel Ben’s need throbbing on her tongue and she pulled back for a second to scold her friend. 

“Get out already!” she shouted, shooing Hughie off with a wave of her spit-soaked hand. 

Ben called her back, grabbing her cheeks in one big hand and pinching her lips into a tight circle. “Oh, he’s leaving,” he told her, guiding her mouth back to his throbbing cock. “Or he’s gonna see some things he can’t forget.”   

Hughie slammed the door behind him and braced himself against the wall. His head fell back with a thud and he struggled to wipe the memory clear. He didn’t care that Y/N had lied about fucking Soldier Boy, but seeing her blitzed and working his cock was more than Hughie could take. An old “Say No To Drugs” poster from grade school flashed through his thoughts and he cringed. 

When Ben’s orgasmic roar flooded out into the hallway, Hughie booked it, strangely looking forward to spending the night alone in the car. 

[nortonluv]

norton and his hunter counterpart trying to fight for reader’s attention pls pls

Right my first attempt back into writing.. life is still crumbling but im hyperfixated on idv rn, hopefully I'll live..

W

Pairing/s: Norton Campbell (Hunter and Surv) x GN! reader

Warnings: none, just silly

-------

This happens every damn time. Don't get me wrong, I love Norton. Both sides of him. The second we're all in a match together though, chaos ensues and its not because Fool's Gold is particularly ciolent around me; I say me because he definitely does not hesitate to chair his survivor counterpart.

No, no, it's worse than that. I feel bad for the other two survivors who got paired with me and Norton. The second that Fool's finds out that I am here, he generally turns into a guard dog of sorts. Not wanting me to work so he wanders around with me, other survivors know that once hes latched onto me, they can pretty much run free as long as they dont come into his sights. He's like my sweet guard dog who is still trying to kill my friends but won't go out of his way to do it right now because he deems himself too preoccupied with me.

We are walking around the sacred heart hospital when I notice a certain prospectors magnet dropped on the floor. Unluckily, Fools does not see it and gets caught in its pull. Norton must be around the corner and drags Fools to it, making him hit his head. Dazed, he stands with a hand holding his head. Before I could check on him, though, I'm lifted over Norton's shoulder making me yell out in minor panic.

"Ah! Norton put me down! He wasn't going to do anything to me, you're just causing more trouble for yourself!" He grunts at me and runs away from the dazed rocky version of himself. Quickly hopping over a wall and ducking down while also forcing me to crouch with him. At least my feet are on the ground now..

Before I could fully register what was happening, I was shoved forward slightly just out of Fools Gold's collapse area. Norton however not so lucky and took enough damage for it to be a full hit. He gives me a quick peck to the cheek and an ever speedier "I love you, be safe." Before sprinting off to begin a kite against Fools Gold.

The hunter himself hops the same ledge we just arrived to this spot over, he picks me up off the floor and dusts off my shoulders before mimicking his survivors counterpart's actions. "I love you. I'll make sure he doesn't disturb us anymore. Dont you dare try to save him whenni chair him. You know I won't hit you." He scowls before kissing my forehead and making a quick dash towards where Norton just was.

What an idiot.

"Are they gone...?" I turn back and see a frightened Frederick peaking past a corner. This makes me laugh and nod at the confused composer. "Good, I'm partially afraid of both of them, especially around you."

-♡-

Done! Not my best work but something silly and fun to imagine. Also if anyone would be willing to commission me for any art or fanfics in exchange for skins/items on idv let me know and we can see about sorting something out

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us

Part 10: The Man Who Made a Monster

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Fem!Reader

masterlist playlist

WC: 7.6k

18+ONLY, MDNI, mention of wounds, car accidents, a bit of body horror, angst, guns, gunshot wounds, reader gets physically hurt (but bounces right back), blood, drinking blood, allusions to smut, evil men, supernatural powers, a demobat fren, fear of the unknown, a fire, werewolf!Steve, Dr. Brenner. References to one of my favorite 80's shows, the Incredible Hulk with Lou Ferrigno, and mid-90's MTV. Tiny references to FOI that you won't even notice if you haven't read the book.

Summary: Eddie, Jareth, and Steve come to your rescue, but do you even need to be rescued? Bad men surface and reader finds strength she never knew she had. Eddie confesses more than one secret to us, and the tension is thick. Reader is called Dove as a nickname.

Author's Note: I covered quite a few bases in this chapter, but there is still a lot to explore in the next and final part. We get to see reader in action and get some much-deserved satisfaction. I 've been staring at it for so long, I really hope you have fun reading this, love you. As always, Jareth's face claim is Jamie Campbell Bower.

-----

this starts right where Part 9 left off

Eddie snatched his keys and shoved Steve out the door before he quickly put some food down for Dio and locked the dead bolt.  

Steve called shotgun in the air, vaulting over the hood like an extra from the movie Grease, making Jareth roll his eyes.  “Is he part werewolf or labrador?” Whispering under his breath to Eddie, but Eddie just nudged him out of the way.

Jareth paused on the opposite side of the Pontiac GTO.  “We should go on foot, it would be faster,” hinting to the lightning-speed with which vampires moved.

Eddie inclined his head to Steve.  “Not when we’ve got the pup with us.”

“Fuck you,” Steve sneered, brushing back a flop of hair from his forehead.  “I can keep up with you two geezers, trust me.”

“What if I just kill him and rid us of the dead weight,” Jareth grumbled.

“You can try,” Steve bit, growling deep in his chest.

“Enough!” Eddie snapped, swatting the top of the car with his hand.  “Everyone get in and hold the fuck on. We’re goin’ for a ride.”

—----

Heat scorched through your veins like lava, and as your eyes fluttered open, you passively wondered if the car was on fire, and you were about to be cooked alive.

But

You were no longer in the vehicle.  Squeezing your eyelids tight to find the memory, recollection came flooding back as your fingers curled into dirt, cheek pressed into the forest foliage.  There might have even been a pinecone acting as a pillow at your ear.  

The muscles in your arms and shoulders throbbed, not to mention the feeling of your skull being cracked open by a catastrophic neurological event.  A migraine to rival all migraines.

You remembered being taken…the conversation about Brenner…and Bela…

Bela!

You called her name, but it came out as nothing but a puff of air, a whine deep in your chest.  

What if she got hurt in the crash? What if she —

The crash!

Adrenaline flushed through you like a swarm of bees and you sat up, cracking your stiff neck as you went, and your head swam.  

Where the fuck were you?

A car passed a few yards away on the highway and you realized you’d been tossed into a ravine.  In the distance, the SUV you’d been kidnapped in was on its back and smoking as if something inside had caught fire.  Where was that awful witch and the man who was driving?

A memory of ripping the door off by its hinges and climbing out of the vehicle flashed behind your eyes, but that was impossible.  You must’ve been able to jump out and then hit your head or something. You weren’t turning green and ripping out of your clothes; you were no Lou Ferrigno.

You moved your legs to make sure they worked, and soon you were on your feet, using tufts of grass to crawl along as if you were about to fall off the earth.

In the distance, thunder rolled.

—----

“Turn here, take the shortcut!” Steve shot his hairy arm between the two seats, pointing to right after the stop sign.

“I know what I’m doing!” Eddie roared.  “Just sit the fuck back and stay cool.”

Eddie could feel you, and his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

He floored the gas, tires squealing as they ghosted the road, peeling down the old highway through the woods that barely anyone used anymore.  The velocity shot Steve back against his seat, and Jareth’s fingers dug into the console while music from Sisters of Mercy blared from the stereo. 

“We’re close,” Eddie lowered his chin, laser focused on the scene ahead of him.  He could feel that familiar static fill his body whenever he was in your vicinity.  

You were not the first human whose blood he’d tasted, not by a long shot.  In fact, for the first few years after he’d been made vampire, he didn’t care about  himself or anyone else, and it seemed there wasn’t a willing human in a 100 mile radius that he hadn’t tasted.

But with you, it wasn’t even about your blood.

You made him feel a certain type of way that he’d been missing for over a decade, perhaps even his whole life.

The clouds trembled, and a crackle of lightning shot a silent burst of light through the midnight sky. All three of them could smell the wreck before it was ever in view, and Eddie released his foot on the gas to slow down a bit.

—---

You stumbled onto the main highway, and the headlights came at you too fast to understand what was happening.  

Everything was so bright, it hurt your eyes. It made you swipe your hands in the air and groan, fighting the illumination as if it were a tangible enemy. 

The car coming at you screeched on its brakes, twisting to the side so that it wouldn’t hit you, skidding sideways.

In a blink, you recognized the stunned faces on the other side of the windshield.

—---

The other two men in the car didn’t see that it was you at first—but Eddie knew.  He’d witnessed those shock white eyes before, void of color or pupil.

Electricity snapped off you, as if  you were a live wire. It crackled and skipped off of your skin like the lightning that appeared above them in the sky.

One of your arms was twisted unnaturally backwards at the elbow, but you somehow flexed the joint back into place as you stood there, correcting your posture.  You stood on one side of  your foot as if your ankle was broken, but then that righted itself with a sickening twist.  Your limbs jerked like the walking dead trying to move for the first time after reanimation.  All of this, and yet your face appeared unphased, as if you were impervious to the pain.

Your face was set in surprise and fear and confusion, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest to be able to hold you.

With a curse, he slammed the GTO to a halt, tires burning rubber as they locked and skidded on the asphalt.  

Something told him you were fairly invincible, just like him, but he wasn’t taking any chances.  

Steve slid across the backseat, knocking his head on impact, and Jareth’s fingers dug so deep into the console that they left puncture marks.  

Eddie didn’t have time to think about what the other two were doing or the danger of leaving his car in the middle of the highway, he threw the gear into park and jumped out to check on you.

From above, there came a loud squawking, and Bela soared down from where she’d been circling in the sky to land on your shoulder with a weight that almost made you lose your balance.

—-----

Bela bared her teeth and screeched at whoever was approaching from the vehicle.  The headlights were too bright, and your ear canals were on fire with hot noise.  A loud, shrill ringing filled your skull cavity like sharp a million tiny pinpricks.

But then you recognized his silhouette

You’d know  it anywhere

“Eddie?”

“It’s me,” he assured you.  “Are you hurt?”

Bela settled once she knew it was him, lowering her wings, and his body came to block the light so that you could see the distress in his face.  He reached a hand out to touch your arm, but then he yanked it back with a hiss.  It was like you’d given him an electrical shock, with volts like those from a cattle prod or taser.  

“I didn’t mean to do that,” you hesitated, hoping he’d dare to touch you again. 

And he did, rushing closer without pause, not caring about how bad the last one stung. He cupped one hand at your jaw while the other went to your hip, searching your mouth for temptation's sake.  “Let’s get you home.”

He got zapped a few more times from seemingly stray sparks, in the chest and the side, making him wince, but he did not relent.  It was a good thing the violent stabbing did not force him back, because just then your knees gave out and you slumped into his arms. Bela took to the sky again before landing on the hood of the GTO with another high pitched wail, wings spanning out as if she were about to conduct an orchestra.

Eddie dropped to his knees on the ground next to you, careful to protect your head from the pavement with his hand.  In wolf form, Steve trotted over to nudge your face with his snout and lick your cheek with a whimper.

“She’ll be okay,” Eddie took his jacket off and made it into a pillow for you, before angling to sink his fangs into his own wrist.  “She needs blood.”

“Use mine,” Jareth hovered nearby, and you could vaguely hear them arguing as your adrenaline crashed.  “I’m older, my blood is stronger.”

“No,” Eddie growled, and then the two bared their teeth at each other.  

Eddie knew that, more than anything, Jareth wanted to be in  your head, to be linked to you in the same way he was.  To know where you were at all times and for you to have…those special dreams about him.  No way in hell would Eddie let that happen.

He’d already punctured a vein and had his tattooed wrist over your mouth, leaking his life force into your trembling lips until you were able to latch on and suck.  

Jareth’s stare bore into Eddie.  “Maybe I should tell her you’re the reason Brenner knew about her in the first place.”

Eddie glared at him.  “You don’t know fuck about it.”

Jareth smirked.  “I know more than you think about the little ‘job’ you were hired to do for him.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he shushed him. “This isn’t the place for this, Jareth.”

A car had to navigate around the GTO to continue down the old highway, and the person shouted their disapproval, but then the driver slowed once he spotted you on the ground and the SUV that was rolled over on its side in the distance.

Jareth and Eddie turned to him and hissed with their fangs out, glaring at him with obsidian eyes, until he slammed on the gas and sped off in the direction he was headed.  Steve growled and chased after the car, keeping up with it for a while before hanging back to sniff around the wreckage that you’d managed to somehow survive.  

You mumbled, gurgling on a spurt of blood, and Eddie took his wrist away.  Your eyes were closed, but your tongue flicked out to lick more of his essence from your stained lips.  Were you conscious enough to know what they were talking about? He’d planned on telling you everything, but the time was never right.  He never expected things to get so…messy.  Never expected you’d become so…special to him.  

Some rich dude offers you to keep an eye on someone for a couple weeks for an abnormally huge chunk of cash, you do it.  He’d had no skin in the game when he initially accepted the offer.  

Caring about you as much as he did was the last fucking thing he’d expected to happen, but he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Jareth leaned over you to get closer to Eddie.  “If you don’t tell her soon, I will, and your little fairytale will be over.”

All Eddie could do was grind his teeth: Jareth was right, he should’ve explained the whole thing to you that night when he’d waited for you to get back from your date with Steve.  But by then, he was afraid he’d lose you.

Yet, how could you lose someone you never had?

“We need to get out of here,” Eddie eased you into a sitting position, your head flopped, and then held your chin in his hand.  Your eyelids were fluttering and your skin was beginning to cool as the healing properties of his blood took effect.  

God, how badly he wanted to press his lips to yours.

“What about the witch?” Jareth stood to full height to look over and see Steve sniffing around the crash. “What if they survived?”

Eddie had you off your feet and lifted in his arms by then, but Jareth was right.  As much as he wanted to get you far away from there, he’d watched enough horror movies to know that you never turned your back on a killer until you knew they were dead.  Knocking them unconscious with the back of a shovel wasn’t enough; you had to chop their whole head off and throw them in a cement mixer.

Steve morphed back into human form halfway back to the group, butt naked again, to report back on what he’d found.

Eddie waited for him to announce that there was no one in the vehicle and the bodies were gone…

But instead, Steve shook his head.  “Looks like they didn’t survive.  His neck is broken and she’s—-”

“Are you sure?” Jareth blurted with an air of irritation. “Maybe I should check for myself.”

“I think I know what a dead body smells like, asshole,” Steve grunted, pushing back on Jareth’s chest.

The headlights of another car was approaching, and Eddie reiterated that they needed to get as far away as possible from the scene of the crime. He threw the keys to Jareth, and made Steve sit in front so that he could crawl into the back with you while you healed.  Bela billowed into the sky and hovered there, waiting to see where they were taking you so she could follow.  

It wasn’t his blood that healed your broken foot or your fractured arm though—you’d done that all by yourself.  Maybe you didn’t need him after all, maybe you’d be better off without him.

“Put your pants back on,” Eddie tossed the clothing from the back seat over to Steve.  “I don’t need you teabagging the upholstery.”

Next to him, you had your head on Eddie’s shoulder and your hand on his thigh when Jareth sped off just in time to miss being clipped by the oncoming semi truck.  It blared its horn just as you lifted your head to look up at Eddie with groggy eyes.

He licked his lips, feeling his throat close up at how near your face was to his.

“Did you save me?” Your voice was strained, sounding like your esophagus was constricted.

Eddie put his hand over yours and you interlaced fingers.  “I think you saved yourself,” he mumbled.  “You don’t need me.”

“I do,” you said it so fast, and he leaned over even more, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you correctly.  “I do need you.”

Your hand in his, he brought it up to his chest, searching your eyes as an avalanche of words trembled at the tip of his tongue, right there wanting to roll out like a carpet of devotion to you.  

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves because he was shaking so fucking bad.

Jareth caught his eye in the rearview mirror and the two glared at each other before Eddie broke contact and wrapped another arm around your shoulders to bring you closer.  “We’re almost home,” he hushed, planting his lips to your forehead, blushing at the way you refused to let go of his hand.  “I won’t leave you.”

—----

By the time you got back to the trailer park, your energy and strength had been fortified and you urged everyone to go home to let you get some rest, except for Eddie, who’s hand you were still holding as you got out of the car.

The witch and her companion being dead felt too good to be true, and a measure of palpable dread hung in the air.  It was unspoken knowledge that Brenner was still after you, and he knew exactly where you lived.  

Jareth stepped forward, tipping your chin up with the crook of his finger.  “Are you sure you don’t need anything, love?”

“She has me,” Eddie growled.

Jareth fluttered his eyelids in that bored way he’d mastered.  “If you’re so concerned, we’d be better off at Sacrament.  I can keep her safe there more sufficiently than she’d be in this…” he fanned his hand around a few times, “...this place.”

Bela landed on the railing with a swoosh and squawked.

“I hate to say it, after everything,” you angled toward the steps, exhausted.  “But I don’t think this Brenner person is going to stop until he gets what he wants.” You glanced sideways at Eddie. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

“I’d like to meet this guy myself,” Steve said through gritted teeth.  

Jareth flipped the collar of his coat up and ran a hand through his golden hair.  “Well, my offer stands.  Sacrament is at your service if you should require shelter or protection.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie said dismissively, reaching for the railing to cage you away from the two men. “We’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Jareth,” you told him, and he winked at you, returning the genuine curve of your smile.

And Eddie hated it so much, he wouldn't have been surprised if steam were coming out of his ears like a cartoon villain.

But he let it slide because Jareth could make things fucking awkward in that moment if he wanted to.  

You turned to Steve.  “Would you like to come in? I don’t have much by way of food, but—”

“He’s fine,” Eddie answered for him.

The two glared at each other for a beat, but then Steve relented.  “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.  Still, I think I’ll stick around for a while, check the perimeter,” he ignored the tick in Eddie’s jaw and waved at you as he backed up to disappear around the backside of the trailer. 

“Hey Harrington, my vest!” Eddie shouted, and it wasn’t long before the denim came sailing through the air to land on the dead lawn near the porch.  Eddie bent to pick it up with a huff, and by then Jareth had disappeared into the night.

Now you were finally alone, and as much as it was what he wanted, it made his stomach drop.

Eddie paced the living room a bit before taking a seat, perching precariously at the end of the sofa to bounce his knee and gnaw at his bottom lip.  

“Listen,” you took a beer and a half-full bottle of NuBlood out of the fridge to put it in the microwave for him.  “I figure there’s no use asking you to leave with people obviously hunting me down, but I really need to take a shower.  So just…make yourself at home I suppose?”

The microwave dinged and you walked the warm glass bottle over, and then waited for him to wrap his hand around it, fingers grazing yours, before you spoke. “I feel like there are some things we should talk about.”

Eddie was already nodding. “I’d like that,” he gulped.

Eddie waited until he heard the shower running before he sank down into the cushion and used the remote to turn the TV on.  He needed to distract himself from letting his mind wander to how you were absolutely undressing in there, about to be naked and wet and…

He squirmed in his seat and turned the volume up.  It was an MTV music video for Metallica’s Until it Sleeps, but he only vaguely cared as he puffed his cheeks for a forceful exhale. In his head, he practiced what he would say, how he would beg your forgiveness, and how he never really understood what this guy Brenner was all about until it was too late…

In the shower, you made the water as hot as you could handle it, leaning into the burn, and stood there for the longest time without moving. Eyes closed, you could feel Eddie step into the shower behind you, sneaking his hands around to pluck at your nipples.  “Room for one more?” He rumbled in your ear, just before he nibbled it.

He wasn’t really there, but you couldn’t help but touch yourself with a soapy hand as if he were, biting your lip around a moan.

The water ran cold by the time you were ready to step out, swooshing the curtain aside with a swift swipe of your arm.  

The thump of something heavy falling to the ground out in the living room had you straining to hear what it might’ve been as you pulled a clean t-shirt and jeans on.  Music videos were on, playing In the Blood by Better Than Ezra, and you called Eddie’s name.

The only response you got was from Bela, and she let out one long screech that felt like it had the power to break glass.

“Eddie?” You shouted this time, flinging the door open to let the steam roll out and fill the hallway. “Bela??”

The door to your trailer was wide open, but Bela was there, scrambling from the back of the couch to perch on your shoulder the second you came into view. 

“What happened?” You asked your demobat companion.  “He just left us here? Without a word?”

The potted terracotta plant that had once been above the TV right by the door was on the carpet, shattered.  

You crossed your arms over your chest, and shivered as you stepped one foot out on the porch to look around, a chill breeze nipping at your flesh.  “Eddie? Are you out here? Steve?”

The whole court was eerily silent, even the crickets and frogs were holding their breath.

You backed up into the house, pulling the door shut.

The TV screen went from MTV to static, and you stepped back to stare at it while Bela swished her tentacles around nervously, leaving red, raised scratches on your arm and neck.  She was heavy, but you’d gotten used to her weight and hitched our shoulder up to accommodate.

The static changed to the image of a man standing before a black backdrop.  He was tall and thin, wearing a business suit with a full head of silver hair. 

“Hello Dove,” the man on your TV said.

He was looking right at you.

You glanced around for a weapon, but as if he could read your mind he said.  “No need for that, I don’t want to hurt you.”  He was handsome in a “trust me”, evil doctor kind of way, but the last thing you felt like giving him was your trust.

“What did you do to Eddie?” It felt stupid, talking to an electronic device as if it were a person, but that was the situation you’d found yourself in.  

Brenner said nothing, but you got a bad feeling and swallowed to wet your dry mouth before taking cautions steps over to the window facing his trailer to peel back the blinds.

But you could already see the flames inside, and just then, you smelled the smoke.

His trailer

It was on fire.

“Nononono no,” You chanted, charging for the door.  

“Come with me quietly,” the man on the TV said, calmly. “Or your vampire boyfriend will meet the final death.”

You halted in your tracks, glaring down at the older man, nostrils flaring with anger.  “Come with you? Where are you hiding?” You chided; hands balled into fist as you cocked your head. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Brenner looked down before meeting your eyes again.  “Your father underestimated the capacity for your powers.  I don’t plan to make the same mistake.”

“How did you know my father?” You barked.

Outside, one of Eddie’s windows blew out, glass shattering everywhere, and his curtains went up in flames.

You ran outside and flew down the steps before the man's voice could stop you.  Dio, Eddie’s cat, ran by to hide under your trailer.  

Maybe Eddie had gone in like a crazy person to save some photos or something, and somehow, he’d gotten trapped in there.   Bela took to the sky while you rushed to his door.

But then there he was, staggering out on a dark cloud of smoke, holding an electric guitar in his hand.

“My sweetheart,” he held it up.  “I couldn’t let her burn.”

He was smiling at you from the top of his steps, dimples popping, and you could help but mirror it, flooded with relief.  He really didn’t care that his whole place was burning, as long as he had Dio, his guitar, and you.

He’d lost much more in his life to a fire once when he was younger, so this one wouldn't sting half as bad.  

And it suddenly didn’t matter that some creepy old dude could somehow talk to you through your TV: Eddie was okay.  

But then something else happened. 

He took the first step, never taking his eyes off of you, but something knocked his shoulder back, like an invisible punch.  

And then another and another

The smile on his face quivered and his forehead creased, trying to understand what was happening.

He tucked his chin to look at his torso, and your eyes followed.

Dark blooms were appearing on his shirt like liquid spilled from an inkwell.  On his chest, over his heart, from his stomach.  

He stumbled down the last two steps and then fell to his knees, dropping the guitar so that he could brace himself with his hand.

Had Eddie been shot?

You didn’t have time to figure that out.  Some strange voice in your head told you there was a chance the trailer could explode—or maybe you’d watched too many movies—but you had to get him away from there.  He was a vampire, and even if he had been shot, he could heal, but you weren't sure how he would survive his body being blown to bits.  

The next thing you knew, you were carrying him, much like he’d carried you in his arms earlier.  You didn't need to summon the insane strength; it was just there. There was that buzzing in your skull, and you could feel violent sparks crackling through your muscles.

Everyone was coming out of their trailers at that point, and Dolores was screaming frantically into her phone wearing a nightshirt and curlers in her hair.  You didn’t know how long it would take for the fire department to get there, or if there was a possibility that the wreckage would spread to the other trailers.

You put Eddie down on the other side of your hearse and leaned him back against the tire to find there was blood trickling from his mouth, but he still tried to grin at you.

“See,” he sputtered.  “You’re like a superhero.  You don’t need me.”

“But I do,” tears clouded your eyes while another window blew out from the trailer.  You put your forehead to his and your lips brushed together.  “Please, don’t leave me.  Eddie I—”

“The bullets,” he winced.  “They’re silver.  My body can’t reject them.”

There were three or four different holes in him there that were steaming as the silver burned him from the inside.  You cupped your hand on his jaw, and he grabbed your wrist, turning his head to kiss your palm.  

“Here, take my blood—” 

You yanked your shirt down to give him your pulsing jugular, but all of a sudden you were forced back by some unseen force, flying through the air until you landed ass first in the gravel and skidded to a stop, rolling over to find yourself face first at the feet of someone wearing a pair of black, shiny shoes and slacks.

“Dove,” a familiar, deep voice said. “We meet again.”

You pushed back, scuttling away to find that it was the man from your TV; he was standing in your trailer park.  Flanked by two menacing looking men with bald, tattooed heads, wearing sunglasses.  Each of them in suits and ties as if they were the actual Men in Black.  

“I don’t know you,” you grumbled, getting to your feet that were bare and bleeding, but healing rapidly. You checked around each shoulder cautiously to see that there was a handful of other men in suits, all of them holding guns, and then a tall guy with a scalp of strawberry stubble, no more than 20, in a red jumpsuit. The guy had his chin down, eyes pinned on you as if he might shoot lasers from them.

His expression was deceivingly kind.  “My name is Martin Brenner.  I met you before you died the first time,” he said casually.

“You see, your father and I used to be friends,” he walked a circle around you, before coming front and center again.  “He stole valuable information from my laboratory in order to bring you back.  You're my property as well, but he decided to keep you from me.”  

“My father never mentioned you,” was all you could say.  In your peripheral vision, you could tell the others were inching close.

“We could’ve been so great together, Dove.  Imagine your contribution to science.  And you would not be so uncertain about your powers,” he stepped back to gesture at the boy in the red jumpsuit.  “I want to introduce you to Kane.  He was reanimated the same way you were, but under my expertise and supervision.”

Kane had a railroad scar on his forehead, and a hand that was a different skin color than the rest of his body.  It wasn’t just a different skin tone; it was a body part from an entirely different person.

You thought about all of the love you were raised with, and though your dad fumbled the ball on attentiveness quite a bit, you never doubted how much he cared for you.  You were beginning to understand that maybe he didn’t explain what abilities you might have because it would lead you back to Brenner somehow.

The surge of power was growing inside of you, and instead of pushing it down, you let it grow and churn and spill out, creating a type of electrical force field around your body, a vibrating aura of protection.

“Show her what you can do, Kane,” Brenner said.

Not sure what to expect, you watched Kane rubbed his hands together, creating a bright bolt of lightning from the friction, his eyes went milk white, and then he shot an arm out towards the nearest hulking security guard, palm open, and it sent the man in black off his feet, sailing back as if he were hugging an invisible beach ball.  He smacked into the side of the opposite neighbor’s trailer with a bone to metal thwack.  

Your eyes were fixed for too long on the man slumped in the gravel, and when you turned to face Kane again, he was a few steps closer, peering through his lashes at you with an evil twitch of his lips.

Apparently, you were the next example in his bag of tricks.  

Your feet were off the ground before you could process another thought, catching air like a rag doll only to drop down and skid face first into the cold, dry earth.  

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, eh? Lifting into a push up position, you spat dirt and blood from your mouth with a curse.

Gathering yourself up and into a crouch, you vaguely heard Eddie call your name, but he was still rendered temporarily helpless by the silver, and your head was spinning.  Not so much from confusion and fear this time, but more…anger.

You nailed Kane with a heated look, and then your hand lashed out in his direction, though he was yards away, and actual sparks flew from your palm, spitting like fireworks.

Kane was pummeled in the gut with a force he obviously wasn’t expecting, and you kept going before he could find his footing again, knocking him down before he could raise a hand at you again..

“How does that feel?” You bit, towering over him. 

In a heartbeat, you lifted Kane’s limp body above your head with a roar that you could not believe came from your own mouth.  Arching back, you aimed to drop him over the nearby trailer hitch, which would surely break his back, if not kill him, but then you remembered who you were and faltered.

Blinking, trying to quiet the buzzing in your skull, you knew you did not want to kill this boy.

You understood, even under such duress, that he was only doing what he was told.  

But Brenner was actually applauding you, pupils blown from the intensity, urging you to keep going, to murder this stranger at his bidding.  

You could’ve very easily ended up just like Kane, if not for the love and protection of your father.  

Heaving, trying to calm yourself, you threw Kane’s body in the opposite direction, so that he landed on flat ground that would absolutely hurt, but he’d be able to walk away.  

Brenner beamed at you like a parent watching their child take their first steps.  “You’re stronger than I’d imagined.  Your powers have somehow increased since your inception, and I’d love to know why.”

You squared up with him, making him step back to avoid the sparks actively snapping off of you.  “What do you want from me?”

You didn’t have to look to know that all of the guns were trained on you.  

“I want you to work for me, Dove. We could change the world together, you and I.”

It felt like he was trying to sell you a car, not asking to hook you up to electrodes and make you his own personal soldier.  

“Never,” you were calm now, and you wanted nothing to do with this man or whatever he thought he could do for you.

The flames went higher on the trailer, and in the distance, wails of a fire engine could be heard.  

You caught sight of Eddie, but he was flat on the ground now and no longer sitting up.

You rushed by Brenner, slamming into his shoulder as you went, but two of the guards caught you by the arms.  It felt like they were stronger than normal men, and when they bared their fangs, you realized they were vampires.

Growling, you flung them off of you, and they went stumbling back as if they weighed nothing, as if you were suddenly impervious to their supernatural strength.

“Kill the boyfriend,” you heard Brenner bark at the men.  “Use the wooden bullets this time.”

A gun cocked, and you ran a few steps, but then vaulted over Eddie’s body, arms wide, using yours as a shield.

You felt the bullet impact like a dagger in your back, but it was as if it bounced off somehow instead of penetrating.  Eddie barked in pain as you covered him, but then he clung to you as you rolled him under the hearse, away from the gunfire.  

Caging yourself on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, and stomachs touching, you could feel how weak he was; the silver enabled his body from healing, and you had to find a way to get them out.  

You watched the feet of the one with the wooden bullets approach the vehicle, thinking of your next move when Eddie whispered into the side of your neck: “You’re so fucking beautiful—”

If this was the end for him, this was how he wanted to spend it: with you, being able to see your face one last time.  

Before you could respond, there came a shrill, tortured scream, and the booted feet you had your eye on stumbled back.

More agonizing screams, until the body in question dropped to the ground, limbs writhing, and you could see that Bela had attached herself to his head like an Alien facehugger.  

Only because he was a vampire, he was able to pull her off, but she took most of his flesh and his nose off with her.  

Bela took to the sky again, out of view, and they aimed their guns up at her.

“Not so fast, boys,” a new voice rumbled from the shadows. “I want to play, too.”

Eddie’s shallow breaths moving under you, it was all you could do not to cheer out loud when you realized the voice belonged to Jareth.

And apparently, Jareth brought friends; enough to fill the entire courtyard.

They were crouching on the roofs, on cars, everywhere.

Brenner and his crew were surrounded; Bela had gone to get help.  

In the woods, a pack of wolves howled their attendance as well.  

Jareth pierced the closest vampire in the heart with a wooden stake and he exploded, guts flying everywhere.  

As far as the human bodyguards went, the rest was a bloodbath.  

From what you were told later, Kane ran, and Brenner tried to get behind the wheel of the SUV, but instead he was dragged into the war zone and drained dry before being ripped limb from limb. 

Jareth wanted to keep the doctor in his dungeon to torture him, but a few of the vampires knew of Brenner and the experiments he’d done on their kind over the years.  It was all nothing short of sadistic torture, keeping them barely alive so that he could run experiments on them over time and sell their blood for a profit.

They’d been wanting to get their hands on him for a long time.

—-----

By the time the rescue team and fire truck showed up, all of the vampires had evaporated into the shadows, and you’d snuck Eddie up into your bedroom, carrying most of his weight as he was only able to hobble.  You collected his guitar as well, and brought Dio inside, since those were the only two things from the burning wreckage, he voiced a care about.  With the lights out and the curtains closed, you used a modest bedside reading lamp to assess the damage.  While you were concentrating on him, his eyes never left your face, his heart bursting. 

“You might have to suck them out,” he cleared his throat.  “The bullets I mean.  I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“You mean, weirder than all of the other shit that happened tonight?” You mumbled, coming back from washing your hands.  There was still dirt caked under your nails, possibly some blood, but whatever.

“Good point.”

Until you got the bullets out, any blood you gave him would be useless, so without another moment of hesitation, you crawled up on the bed, springs bouncing, and knelt next to his torso, bracing a hand at either side of him. He was burning up around the sight of each wound, and the skin sizzled as the alloy continued to roast him alive.  

The first one was at the surface and came out fast, hot metal on your tongue.  The next one, under his right nipple, was deeper and you had to suck harder, making Eddie’s toes curl.  You spit each out onto the floor, and strings of his blood mingled in your saliva.

One hand behind his head, the other rested at his hip with a thumb in his belt loop.  “So, you’re like…the incredible Hulk, but with powers.  That’s pretty badass.”

“I don’t know what I am,” you scoffed, sucking out another, and then pausing to watch the openings seal up and heal.  “I’m a waitress, that’s all.  That’s all I want to be.”

He nodded, musing on how many times he’d wished he could go back and not be a vampire. He wanted to tell you the story of when he was reborn, but that could wait for another time.  Now it was time to put some very messy cards on the table. 

The last bullet was deep, and you had to swirl your tongue around in the hole to loosen it.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he blurted while your lips were near his belly button.

“Mmmhmm?”

Fuck, here it goes…

“First, I just want to say that I had no idea who this Brenner guy was before, like, a few months ago,” his next swallow felt like he was chugging a grapefruit. “If I’d have known what a creep, he was I never would’ve…”

You stopped what you were doing to raise your head, waiting for him to finish, the final bit of silver still lodged in his abdomen. “You knew of Brenner? Before all this?”

He couldn’t look at you, he had to stare at the ceiling.  

“Uh, yeah, that first week you were here, he tracked me down at the chop shop and said he’d pay me a shit ton of money to keep an eye on you. I didn’t ask a lot of questions.  As far as I knew, you were his long-lost daughter, or some shit and he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You sat back on your knees, trying to let that sink in.

He lifted up to brace himself on an elbow, wincing at the sting of the remaining bullet.  “I didn’t know you then, that was before we were…” he fumbled with what he wanted to call you and what you actually were, “...a friend.”  

“So,” you frowned down at your hands.  “You’re the reason I was kidnapped tonight? The reason all of this happened?”  Your wide eyes snapped to him.  “Did you set me up?”

He sliced his hand in the air a few times, shaking his head vigorously.  “No..nope…I had nothing to do with any of this,” he pleaded.  “I only reported back to him for a couple of weeks, and then I stopped, really.  After that night I first took you to Sacrament, I told him I was too busy to—”

All of the horrific memories were rushing back to you.  “What about the Klemp’s? Did you pay them to hurt me or something? So that I’d have to drink your blood and let you into my head?”

Eddie spoke so fast; he stuttered over his words.  “No, absolutely not, never! I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I would never let anyone hurt you like that.”

“But they did hurt me,” you muttered.

Now it was you who couldn’t look at him, working your jaw muscles as you tried to decide which emotion you should be feeling.

“Why should I even believe you?” Your voice was small.

“Please believe me I—”

“If you knew this guy was stalking me, why didn’t you tell me sooner? If you’re as concerned for my welfare as you claim to be?”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to cry or scream; maybe both.

Eddie didn’t have a chance to answer.  You were on your feet at the end of the bed with your arms crossed.  

Suddenly, you were shaking, and you couldn’t control it. “After Sacrament, I didn’t see you for a long time, it felt like you were avoiding me.  Was that because you no longer had to fake interest in me for your scam?”

Eddie pushed himself up into a seated position, blinking back the memory of how painfully hard it had been to stay away from you for all that time.  “No, you have to trust me, that had nothing to do with—”

“Trust you?” You barked a sarcastic laugh.  “Tell me why then? Why avoid me for so long, huh? Because you weren’t getting paid to—”

Eddie’s voice wavered and he spoke in a rush.  “Because I started to have feelings for you, that’s why. Happy? Because ever since that first day I saw you, you’re all I can fucking think about.  Because I can’t even look at another woman without seeing your face, and believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve gotten real good at disappointing people and leaving people behind, and all I know is, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Your lips parted to say something, but he figured what the hell, he might as well scare you all the way off while he was at it.

He relaxed his shoulders and wet his lips. “I never told you that I was made vampire against my will.  I died and was brought back, but my heart went cold, and I never thought I’d feel anything for anyone ever again.  I didn’t want to feel anything.  I should’ve stayed dead, I wanted to be with all of the people I’d lost…”

His suede brown eyes sought your face.  “When I’m with you, I don’t feel dead anymore. When I think about you, I feel fragile and human again.  Like maybe I’ve got something worth giving away.”

Silence filled the room like helium in a balloon about to burst.  

He’d gone for broke, and there was nowhere left to hide. He was officially at your feet, where he’d always been.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered when you didn’t respond right away. “I get it.”

You tilted your head all the way back to stare at the ceiling.

“I dream about you every night,” you admitted on an exhale. “Logically I know it has to do with ingesting your blood, but it’s…it’s more than that.”

He bit at the inside of his cheek, picking at a thread on the comforter.  “Every night, huh?”

You gave a few slow nods, and you could almost hear the smile pull across his teeth. 

“Yeah, so, blood induced dreaming should only happen a handful of times after it’s ingested,” he said, shifting in his seat. 

You kept nodding, since that was something you’d already suspected.  “The dreams are always so vivid, I wake up…”

He dared to finish for you after a long pause. “Wanting more?”

“No,” you corrected, turning to face him.  “I wake up wishing they were real.”

----

I la la la love you all who have reached out to me about this story and continue to cheer it on. Comments, reblogs, and asks about this world mean everything to me.

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[i-drop-level-one-loot]

I’m back in my silly nonsense again and I do have a request, if that’s ok, I seriously don’t wanna annoy or stress you out hun but I do have a specific request in mind.

A sadistic yandere doctor x reader

It starts out simple enough like the reader goes in for a simple checkup and there’s a new doctor taking care of them and it escalates from there, every appointment with the new doctor becomes more unnerving and unhinged until escalating to abducting his “patient” and keeping them to himself

I dunno this sounded better in my head and plus you’re more creative than I am😅 I had this lil idea for a while and I’d figure it was worth a shot to ask, thanks for putting up with my silly shenanigans 😅

CW: Abduction, drugging, obsessive yandere, former bully reader, foul language, trypanophobia and mild iatrophobia

I took this ask and fucking R A N

The line between hatred and love is much thinner than one would like to believe.

(Reader) sat stiffly in the waiting room, staring at their phone while scrolling, not paying attention to anything that passed their eyes. Time was not moving fast enough, and it felt like they were about to have a heart attack while waiting for the doctor, fifteen minutes past their scheduled appointment time. They nearly jumped when the nurse finally called their name, not bothering to offer even a polite grin to the nurse as they were led back to get weighed, praying to whatever was listening that their deodorant didn't fail them. Sweat glued their shirt to their back, but (Reader) refused to take off their jacket.

Going to the clinic was always a hassle, and if it wasn't for the pain in their neck that refused to ease up they would have continued to avoid it like the plague. The nurse brought (Reader) back to an empty room, and left them there again, now waiting on a paper sheet that crinkled obnoxiously whenever (Reader) shifted and was ten times colder than they were in the waiting room. (Reader) took a shaky breath and continued to scroll absentmindedly on their phone.

A soft knock at the door was enough to make (Reader) drop their phone, diving for it as a nurse wheeled in a cart. "Hello, dear, how are we today?"

(Reader) popped back up, flushed. "Peachy."

"Lovely." The older woman grabbed a chart and read over (Reader's) information. "I'm going to take a quick little blood sample and get you checked in for Dr. Campbell."

Their face felt cold with how quickly their previous embarrassment faded into fear. Both at the thought of getting their blood drawn, and in confusion at hearing a new name. "Actually, my doctor is Dr. Kowl." (Reader) tried to correct the nurse.

The nurse smiled brightly. "Dr. Campbell is our newest doctor, he'll be taking over for Dr. Kowl when he retires. Can you remove an arm from your jacket please?"

(Reader) slipped their left arm out for the nurse, holding in their breath and averting their eyes while she pulled out a clean needle. Even if they couldn't see it, just knowing that it was getting closer to their arm sent a rush of adrenaline up and down their body so quickly that (Reader) was afraid it would knock them out. They swallowed a lump of snot threatening to choke them, rolling their eyes back to look at the ceiling as they ignored the tiny prick of pain.

"All done."

The sleeve was rolled down before (Reader) turned their head, a tight grimace plastered on their face. "Great."

"Dr. Campbell will be with you shortly." The nurse's demeanor was warm, but (Reader) couldn't feel it past the cold crispness of her scrubs. Clinic doctors weren't as bad as hospital or ER doctors, but they still were not pleasant to be around.

• 17 years ago •

A chubby boy with dark curly hair obscuring his eyes nervously watched (Reader) from afar, working up the courage to go speak to them. (Reader) had a bruise on their neck, partially hidden by their hoodie, and the young man was worried for the stranger in his high school. Tugging on his baggy shirt awkwardly while shuffling his feet, he made his way to the sad looking teen, struggling not to lose his nerve. "Hey.." he struggled not to stutter. "I was just, uh, wondering if everything was.. okay?"

The look of loneliness and emptiness on (Reader's) face was gone so fast that the boy thought he imagined it, now only seeing disgust and rage.

"The fuck you just say?"

• Present •

A young doctor with wavy brown hair stepped into the room, his downward turned eyes widening every so slightly, a bright, welcoming smile contrasting his surprised gaze, as he entered (Reader's) view. (Reader) was equally shocked, taken back by how handsome their new doctor was. "How are we feeling today?"

Hearing that typical doctor's greeting paled (Reader's) complexion, reminding them that no matter how hot this man might be, he was still a doctor. "I, uh, got a pain. It won't go away."

Dr. Campbell nodded, gently touching (Reader's) jaw as he tilted their head, watching their face carefully as they grimaced at certain angles. "Have we already taken X-rays?"

"Yeah, there's nothing wrong. Urgent care said it was a pulled muscle, I'm just here for a follow up." (Reader) noted how the new doctor searched their eyes uncomfortably; it was as though he was looking for something specific. "Is there something wrong?"

The doctor removed his hands, smiling again, but this time the smile seemed disingenuous, almost melancholy. "I'm sorry, I just.. you look like someone that I used to know." His jaw clenched under his smile. Dr. Campbell swiveled away, rolling to the computer and tapping on the keyboard for a couple of minutes before clicking his tongue. "I'm sorry, (Reader), but it looks like something went wrong with the blood sample we just took. Can you roll up your sleeve for me so I can get a new sample?" He asked while already reaching into his drawer, grabbing a fresh syringe and three vials.

(Reader) sighed, frustration displayed openly on their features. "Really?.."

• 17 years ago •

"Cry, bitch!" (Reader) snarled, kicking the new kid in his ribs. His only real crime was not knowing that, despite the lack of piercings, (Reader) was practically the leader for the high school's most notorious delinquents. The only reason (Reader) hadn't been expelled was because their grades never dropped below an A-, and the school prioritized their placement as the second best school in the country over a few accusations of harassment.

"Hey (Reader), who's your new friend?" Nate asked while sauntering over with the rest of (Reader's) friends.

"Dunno. Hey new kid," (Reader) bent down, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair and yanking his head up, "what's your name?"

The kid could barely speak through his sobbing. ".. Ichabod."

"HA! What kind of name is that?!" Lily cackled hysterically.

"From now on, I think you're going to be my new best friend.. ain't that right, pussy?"

His dark brown eyes couldn't help but fixate on (Reader's) neck as they glared down at him, the bruise shaped like fingers was so dark that in the lighting it looked like it was bleeding. "Well, that's the worse fucking name I've ever heard in my life. No wonder you're such a pussy.

• Present •

"I'm here for Dr. Campbell? I have a twelve-thirty about some blood results?" (Reader) grumpily muttered, pissed that they had to be back at the clinic only a week after their last appointment. Hearing Campbell's name, one of the receptionists smiled, fluttering her lashes and biting her lip subtly.

Her colleague saw her reaction and made a noise of approval. "That new doctor, he's quite the charmer, isn't he?"

"Stop!" The younger woman smiled harder, rolling her eyes. The whole thing made (Reader) grossed out. Yeah, the man was cute, but not when you're on the job. "Besides, he's.. unavailable."

"What? I didn't see a ring on his finger."

'They have forgotten me.' (Reader) puffed out their cheeks and patted their sides loudly, hoping the two medical professionals would get the hint and just sign them in.

"Apparently, he only became a doctor because of his highschool sweetheart. He said he had somebody whose 'attention' he 'wanted'." She sighed dreamily. (Reader) sighed also, but only out of frustration.

"Hey." (Reader) snapped, embarrassing the two receptionists as they looked to (Reader), mouths open like (Reader) was an apparition. "Twelve thirty. (Reader). Is there any paperwork I need to fill out?"

"Sorry! No-"

"Great." (Reader) interrupted the lady, heading over to the horribly uncomfortable chairs a few feet away. However, nearly as soon as (Reader's) butt touched the seat their name was called out, startling them on the speed.

They raised their eyebrows but didn't complain, heading back past the smiling nurses with disdain.

Dr. Campbell met (Reader) in the hall, sneaking up behind them. "Not big on smiling, huh?" The tall man grinned, feeling immense joy at the way (Reader's) face blanched and their muscles tensed.

"I'll smile for some good news." (Reader) forced a smile onto their face, the faux sign of friendliness not reaching their eyes.

He held out a hand as if to say 'after you', directing (Reader) to an open door.

• 16 years ago •

Ichabod couldn't look away from (Reader), studying their shaky visage as (Reader) barely held themselves together, teetering in the corner of the dirty basement. It was interesting, the first real emotion Ichabod had ever detected from (Reader) besides disgust.

Fear.

The group of 'friends' all drunkenly sat around Lily's older brother while he tattooed the minors in his dingy home. (Reader) was trying their hardest not to barf as the gun entered their friend's skin rhythmically.

"(Reader), check it out!" The dumbass child held up his arm, proudly displaying a jagged dog. "What'd ya think?"

"It looks like shit." (Reader) spat. The horror was masked by their hatred, fooling everyone except Ichabod. He stared a little too hard, finally drawing the attention of (Reader).

(Reader) could see by the look in Ichabod's eye that he saw their dirty little secret. Rage buzzed throughout (Reader's) body. "Why don't you give one to the pussy?"

Gasping, Ichabod went weak, experiencing something close to betrayal. He never felt an ounce of companionship from his 'best friend' but he was always looking for something from (Reader), he just couldn't understand what. Nate jumped up, launching towards the group's punching bag with sadistic glee.

(Reader) went blank, as they often did, showing neither pleasure nor anger as their friends closed in on Ichabod. "What about it? Since you're not fighting back, I take it that means you want one?" They paused, almost hoping for a reaction other than fright. But Ichabod was frozen, pleading (Reader) with his large teary eyes.

• Present •

"Fine. Hey Marty, why don't you write-"

"This better be the last time." (Reader) finally opened their eyes, too blinded by their phobia to question why their doctor's face was pink; why his large eyes were half lidded; and why he was smiling at them like they were the most attractive person he's ever seen in his life.

Dr. Campbell shuttered, eyes glazing over as he watched (Reader's) face contort, sweat beading on their forehead as the needle pierced their arm. (Reader) was so focused on not crying that they had no clue the look their new doctor was giving them. Being able to see this side to (Reader) was a privilege, one reserved for best friends.

"This should be the last test." His voice which usually oozed like honey quivered oddly, tickling a memory (Reader) couldn't quite recollect.

"Yeah, well, bit aggravating that both times I've gotten my blood drawn, something went wrong and it needed to be taken again." They pulled on their jacket with a huff. "Arm's beginning to look like a junkie's."

"Well, I do apologize for that. You can schedule your next appointment at the front desk. Your results will be in by next Thursday, we'll discuss them together then."

"Great." (Reader) left the room as quickly as possible, the agitation felt from being trapped in a doctor's office trumping how woozy they were. The nervous adult left the doctor behind, unaware of his erection hidden under his clip board. Dr. Campbell pocketed the blood sample, casually readjusting his pants through his pocket as he did so.

His smirk faded into something haunting, something damn near evil. "Last appointment, huh?" The doctor couldn't help but roll up his sleeve, his hard on becoming almost painful in the position he was sitting. A faded blue ink tattoo fuzzy with age and poor in quality marred his arm like a beautiful blemish.

• 15 years ago •

Cigarette smoke drifted up towards the gloomy clouds, the senior leaning against the fence that separated student and faculty parking lit a new cigarette as soon as the last one finished. Ichabod recognized (Reader) from behind, and found himself incapable of running and hiding, pulled in to his tormentor's side against his will. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of (Reader's) face, one eye completely swollen shut and their skin dark purple. Their one good eye stared at nothing, unblinking and dead.

(Reader) didn't look at Ichabod, knowing there was only one person dumb enough to approach them when they looked like this. No matter how hard they pushed him, he never stopped looking at them with that pitiful sentimentality. "Don't hang out with us at lunch today." Nate failed another history exam, and would be looking for someone to take his anger out on. (Reader) didn't know why they were sparing such a little bitch from getting his ass beat. Maybe they were just bored of him.

Ichabod flinched like he had just been hit, trying to will (Reader) to look at him, to explain themselves.

"Actually.. I'm done with you." They finished off their cancer stick, and dropped it into the gravel. "Stop hanging out with us."

"Why?" It was the only thing he could force himself to say.

(Reader) wondered why themselves. Would a therapist have been able to understand? See past their anger, their disgust? The only reason why (Reader) started bullying Ichabod was because he was new, and no one told him that (Reader) wasn't worth his sympathy. They knew he saw it, the bruise on their neck, and they could see it in his stupid face. And it pissed them off. Everyone knew-

(Reader) wasn't someone to pity.

Watery eyes threatening to overflow shook under the force of his tumultuous feelings as the baby faced young man got in (Reader's) line of sight. Even getting decked would be better than being ignored. But there was nothing in (Reader's) eye. He was invisible to them. "I hate pussies."

• Present •

"So, just a pulled muscle?" (Reader) grimaced, raising their hands in annoyance.

Dr. Campbell smiled, showing off all his pearly white teeth. "Thank God it wasn't something more serious."

"Great." Slapping their knees, (Reader) stood, ready to leave and hoping to never come back again. However, their body was stopped at the door by a strong hand gripping their wrist painfully, a deep scarlet staining Dr. Campbell's face and what was visible of his neck. "What?"

"Have we met before?" His face was smiling but his voice was on the verge of cracking.

"Yeah. Three weeks ago. When I first came in."

Long eyelashes nearly pushed his glasses off his nose. The doctor had (Reader) trapped in his arms at this point. "Are you sure? Are you sure I don't look familiar?"

The rising feeling of anxiety quickly morphed into anger, just as it always did, just like when they were a little kid. It took every ounce of self control they had to not knee the new doctor in the nuts. "Am I supposed to?!" (Reader) raised their voice, clenching their fists, feeling their entire body tense as it prepared to fight.

A laugh escaped him, jerking uncontrollably as he felt himself nearly cum just from seeing the old (Reader) trapped in his arms, unable to escape him, knowing that they were just masking their fear, just like that day in the basement all those years ago. "Thank you.." The look in his misty eyes grossed (Reader) out. "Thank you for not changing."

• 15 years ago •

"What?" Ichabod asked in disbelief. The office attendant spoke clearly but her words just didn't make sense.

(Reader) had been missing for nearly a month before Ichabod had the courage to ask anyone where they went. His tan skin had already begun to heal, the bruises left by (Reader's) shoes and the cuts left from their punches had faded. The only memory he had left of them was the tattoo on his arm he kept covered up. If he ever wore a short sleeve shirt it would be over, the pain would end, but he would also never see (Reader) again, and he couldn't have that.

"(Reader) doesn't go here anymore, sweetheart. They got their G.E.D so they could graduate early. One smart cookie, that one."

'But that's impossible.' Ichabod thought to himself. He knew (Reader), knew them better than anyone else. He was special. There was no way he couldn't have known about this. He was closer to (Reader) than their piece of shit friends, and that's why (Reader) hurt him! Deep down Ichabod just knew that (Reader) only hurt him because he could see them for who they were. No one else knew how scared (Reader) was. No one else cared about (Reader's) home life. Only he did.

Only Ichabod knew how terrified (Reader) was of needles.

Through the tears and spit, hiding his body from his parents so they wouldn't know what was happening at school, lying to teachers when they voiced their concerns about potential bullying, Ichabod had convinced himself that what he and (Reader) had was special. Because only he saw how scared they were. He told himself that it wasn't because no one else cared about the "future criminal", but because he was special to (Reader), and only he was allowed to see them vulnerable. That was a privilege for best friends only.

'Was it because I didn't give them enough attention?'

He walked through the hallway without a limp, without a hunched back, just like a normal student. It disgusted him. The walls were plastered with students' artwork, motivational posters, and recruitment ads. A smiling man in a white lab coat caught Ichabod's attention, pulling him out of his dark emptiness and showing him the solution to his problem.

"I'll make you see me."

• Present •

"Stupid son of a bitch!" (Reader) moved at a fast pace through the parking garage, nearly jogging to their truck. They had been doing so well, such a good job, but one moment in a stranger's arms and their mind was invaded by a voice they hadn't thought about in almost a year.

Their mother's words tumbled from their lips as they fished for their keys, shaking with apprehension disgust. "Fucking coward, fucking pussy, goddamnit, good for nothing-"

The old familiar tingling of adrenaline, the need to punch something.

Reaching their truck didn't provide any relief. The keys they were searching for kept evading their fingers as though they had a mind of their own. In the black of their tinted window another figure approached their reflection. (Reader) angrily whipped around, ready to start swinging. Behind them stood Dr. Campbell, wearing a baby blue short sleeved polo tucked into a pair of black slacks. The collared shirt exposed his muscular arms and accentuated his broad shoulders. He would have been so attractive if (Reader) didn't know what he looked like in a lab coat.

"I'm glad I caught you! I didn't have a chance to apologize in there, you rushed off before I could explain myself."

"Don't make up excuses for being a pervert." (Reader) snarled, ready to lash out like a cornered animal. They still couldn't feel the keys in their pocket.

The man smiled so sweetly at (Reader) that it made them want to bite him. "It really hurt my feelings. I thought that maybe you just didn't remember me." His eyes looked down at his feet, but he wasn't an actor, and (Reader) could see plainly that there wasn't a drop of sadness in the man before them. "But I guess.. I do look different than I did back in highschool."

His right hand reached out towards (Reader) to caress their cheek. They almost smacked him away, but a small, shitty tattoo on his arm drained them of their blood faster than a gun shot wound, feeling their bravado leak out of them so quickly that they didn't have time to remember to be pissed.

(READER'S) BITCH

Before they could recover and throw the first punch the hand clamped over their mouth, and a needle was revealed from behind his back in the other hand.

They struggled, but Ichabod hadn't spent his years in med school working out to impress (Reader). Eyes wide with horror watched the needle approach their neck helplessly, and Ichabod could almost cry at the beautiful sight before him. The fear that only he was able to see, only he was allowed to experience, God he could have fucked them right there and then, but he controlled himself. This had all been planned out, and he couldn't fuck it up just because (Reader) was shaking beneath him so cutely.

The needle went into their neck, injecting a drug to knock them out for a few hours. (Reader) screamed silently into his palm, and he watched as they recognized the adoration in his eyes with terror. (Reader's) keys were pulled out from Ichabod's back pocket, dangling teasingly in front of (Reader's) face as they went limp. "You said you hated pussies." His smile was mocking as (Reader) went dark, unable to stay awake. There was so much they wanted to say. They wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. To tell him he wasn't a pussy, that they were never speaking to him when they called him that.

They didn't understand why he looked down at them so kindly. (Reader) hoped that if he killed them it would be a swift death. They felt that they deserved it after all this time.

What he had in store for them was much, much worse than death.

[andreaheartscats]

Sally Face relationship headcanons

-> characters: Sal Fisher, Larry Johnson, Ashley Campbell

a/n: not proofread, sorry for any grammer mistakes i made!

Sal Fisher

He is very very sweet and caring but doesn't show it much in public since he doesn't want to make you feel ashamed of the fact that you're dating him.

You, a literal model, the most beautiful person he has ever seen his entier life!

In private he is very clingy and shows just how much he loves you. He showers you with compliments, gifts and such.

The dates he takes you in are absolutely adorable. He knows you don't like crowded places so he usually takes you out at night.

He takes you out to a random park at night and you both enjoy eachothers company and the night breeze while snacking on your favorite snacks and drinking your favorite drinks.

Sometimes you two would hangout in his apartmant when his dad is away. You would be in his room just chilling.

He would be working on some ghost equipment while you would lay on one of his bean bags with gizmo in your lap as he slept.

Imagine you two had a sleepover and then you had a big craving for some fast food. He would suggest that you two take a quick late night walk to the closest fast food open!

of course how could you deny such a thing.

you took Sals hoodie, even tho he was almost the same height as you, his hoodie fit you really nicely.

He would get all red in the face when he saw you in his hoodie but thankfuly for him, you couldn't see that due to his mask.

When the two of you arrived at the fast food place, it was pretty empty. Nockfell didn't have many people so it didn't suprise you really.

He orderd for the both of you and you enjoyed the food together.

In private, at his apartmant or your home . He would have his mask off around you. He really trusted you and you would trace your fingers over his scars brushing against them.

You never minded them, in fact you found him even more attractive. Of course you felt sorry for what happend to him but you loved him no matter what he looked like and he loved you.

Larry Johnson

Larry is such a cling. He is with you almost nonstop, he never leaves your side.

He loves you in both private and public, and he isn't afraid to show it. If a guy hits on you, be would on purpes put his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him while eying the guy up and down with his eyebrows frowned together.

He shows love for you in many ways. He buys you gifts, soo many teddy bears and roses, he writes songs for you and plays them on his guitar for you.

Larry is alwalys insisting on you spending the night at his. Of course how could you deny such a offer! His mom never minds when you're over. In fact she really likes you.

Whenever you were over, you would always have to sit for about 30 minutes with his mom Lisa to talk about Larry and poke fun at him! She would show you all his baby pics and of course he would get soo much embarrassed.

A blush would creep on his face while trying to drag you away from his mom into his room while you and his mom were laughing your asses off!

The two of you would cuddle 24/7. He would lay on you, with his full weight. And then you would rub his back and brush through his hair with your fingers while he shoves his head into your chest taking in your sweet scent.

Most of your time would be spend like this with him, cuddling and sleeping together.

Sometimes while you were lying on his bed, just spending some time with him, he would take that chance to paint you.

After hour or so you kinda noticed he was glancing at you nonstop. When you got up and walked over to him you saw a beautiful painting of you, half finished.

He would have his proud smile on his face with his fingers all messy in paint and his hair half up.

Ashley Campbell

She is the most caring person you'll ever meet! She loves you soooo so much. When she loves, she loves hard!

Ash really enjoys holding your hand and just clinging next to you, she is not afraid to show off her love for you in public at all.

Whenever you two would go on a date, you would get ready together. She would do your hair and your makeup if you wear some.

When it comes to outfits, it's like a runway show. You pick an outfit for her and she picks for you. Then both of you take your turns to show off the outfit other one picked out!

Whenever you're down, she takes you on a ride on her motorcycle. Mostly at night. The cold wind hitting your face, making you feel refreshed as you hold onto Ash while she drives god knows where.

Carnival dates are a must! Ash loves winning teddy bears and bunch of prizes for you. When she sees a fun ride, she just grabs your hand and literally drags you as she runs.

Ash loooves taking pictures, a lot of pictures. She has soo many photos of you and you two together. Once you two were making some pasta and she just snapped a random photo of you while you stirred the pasta.

If you have long hair (let's imagine you do) she would try soo many hair styles on you, like braiding your hair, putting them in space buns, etc...

Ash always makes sure you two match outfits. If you wore -your favorite color- shirt she would wear a similar one to you. Or she would match your nails!

When Ash puts on lipstick, she kisses you all over your face and leaves kisses marks on! She never tells you tho, so you would just walk around with red lipstick kisses smudged all over your face.

[imperfectrotting]

Being stuck under the bed - NSFW

Characters: Mike, Norton, Naib, Luca, Victor and Andrew.

Contains: Suggestive Themes

Mike Morton

He knocks on your door at a rapid pace before barging in, calling out your name in a singing voice. He's confused when he doesn't immediately find you sitting on your bed. Rather, he finds your legs and behind sticking out underneath the bed. He approaches you with a twirl, and you don't even need to see his face to know that he's smirking. "Oh my, oh my! This is quite a surprising sight to stumble upon! Though i don't know if i do want to help you.." his voice wanders off as he stares at your wiggling ass, trying to get out.

He kneels down and grabs one cheek of your ass with one hand, while placing his other on your back, tracing the tips of his fingers to the rim of your pants, taking them off teasingly slow. "I'll take this as a reward for all the hard work that i've put into my shows, darling~" As his voice drops, with a husky tone in your ear, you know just what kind of trouble awaits you.

Norton Campbell

He knocks two times before entering your room. His eyes scan around the room for you, to have no luck. He's about to turn around and close the door when he hears some odd shuffling sound. His eyes turn towards your bed, where he finds you stuck. "Norton, is that you? Can you please help me out?" He walks towards you and looms over your figure, debating on what he should do.

He thinks back to the previous matches, where you absolutely teased the hell out of him, and led the hunter to him so he couldn't do anything to you during the match. But now it seems that luck isn't on your side anymore.

"Norton, why did you unzip your pants!? Norton!!?"

Naib Subedar

Naib quietly entered your room, expecting for you to be asleep, but instead he saw your ass sticking out from underneath the bed. He first let out a confused sigh before kneeling down, the slight blush on his face luckily not being visible in the dark.

"You.. how did you even.." he said quietly, his voice barely audible as a whisper. "Well.. what if i said i was stuck like this on purpose, just for you?" Something switched in his brain when he heard the flirty tone in your voice. You could hear his breathing get slightly heavier as he continued to stare at your behind.

He spread both of your legs slightly, kissing your inner thigh. You muffled your moan, not wanting to possibly wake the other survivors up.

Victor Grantz

After not hearing your usual response when he knocked, he got worried. He put his ear to the door, hoping to at least hear that you were alright. He heard some shuffling inside, so that reassured him that you at least were okay. Though maybe you did not hear him knock?

He twisted the door knob and quietly shut the door behind him. He instantly spotted half of your body sticking out from under your bed. He let out audible worried noises, as he kneeled down and looked around how to safely get you out from your bed.

"Victor, love.. could you please get my out of here?" The blonde boy wrapped his hands around your waist carefully, deciding that he must have imagined the flirty tone in your voice. With his body now behind yours, pressed against your ass he blushed. His mind was not helping him at all at the moment. But the moment you audibly moaned when he tried to pull you out of the bed, with his crotch against your ass, he suddenly got the hint that this was intentional.

His blush worsened, but this time he changed his grip to instead hold your hips. After all, didn't you want this boldness from the mute postman?

Luca Balsa

"Hey love, check this out!" He barged into your room with a box full of mechanical parts he had gathered. He ranted about what his next invention was going to be, when you interrupted him. "That does sound nice and all, but could you help me out first?" The wiggle you did when you finished the question made Luca's face red. He always admired your body, being very handsy when you allowed him to be. "A.. ah.. don't worry! I'll get you.. out.. of there, yeah.. ye .. yeah.. !" You smirked, knowing that the compromising position you made yourself stuck in, made Luca's mind rattle full with lustful thoughts.

The prisoner coudn't decide what to do next, he really did want to help you, but on the other hand it didn't sound like you truly did need help, plus you got into that position just for him, he was sure if it. He approached you with a grin, his hands quickly resting on your ass. You could feel him tremble from excitement, as he groped your as eagerly, pressing his body against it.

"Did you read my mind? Because i could use some stress relief"

Andrew Kreiss

You two were hanging out in your room, reading books. With him attempting to read your books. He was very thankful that you went out of your way to teach him how to read. His mind was always full of you, and thinking how he could ever succesfully express the love he held for you.

You put your book aside, a new idea popping inside of your head. You kneeled down and shuffled under your bed, pushing your body as far as you could, with your ass still sticking out. "Oh Andrew dear, could you help me out? It seems i'm stuck!"

He looked up from the book to look at you wiggling your ass at him in a seductive manner. Though he didn't understand your true intentions, and panicked when he saw that you were stuck. "O.. oh heavens! How did this happen? I.. i'm so sorry! I'll find help..!"

You had to stop him from panicking, not wanting another survivor to get you out of this predicement you got yourself into. "Andrew, i did this on purpose, you know? Because i know you sneak glances at me when you think i'm not looking" The way you taunted him made his entire face turn red, as he stood still like he got caught in the middle of a crime. He stuttered, trying to come up with a possible explanation, but he couldn't.

He loved you so much, and he felt embarrassed. You even knew about him sneaking glances at you like a pervert. Is that why you got into such a position, just for him..?

[tmblrbbygrl]

Hughie Campbell smut hc's

A/n: These will be centered around season 1 cuz i just finished it but ik the whole plot cuz i love spoiling it for myself👍

Before dating hughie:

He'd be the type to be a little perv but tell himself it's fine

Would plant cameras in ur place and watch you if he had the chance

Would jerk of watching you mastubate through the cams and would match his jerks to your fingers or dildo to pretend he's fucking you

Would stalk your socials to know you better instead of actually talking to you and asking

Would get a hard on at work from you and would to jerk off to saved video recording of you

Dating hughie:

Would wanna know where you are and probably put a tracker on you cause he wants you safe

Has probably thought of a 3 some with you and annie

Would fuck you in the back of the van and half the time would get caught

Moans and whines like a bitch in heat

Has sensitive nipples and areolas

Would get off on him being degraded but not really mean shit or he'll bust a nut and get his feelings hurt

Would get a vibrating cock ring or a small vibrator up his ass would want you to control the vibration and might cum infront of the boys

Even if he's on top he'd moan and is sensitive as fuck

After a bloody mission he would fuck you while he's still covered in blood or fuck in the shower to wash off

Would wait until everyone's asleep to quietly fuck you in the bed

Has a somnophilia kink but wants you to use him while he sleeps instead

Pegging

Has definitely thought about a 3 some with him, butcher and you

Probably wants to be fucked hard by butcher or thought about frenchie, maybe both

Would eat you out and finger fuck you until you squirt so he can drink up all your cum and lick you clean

Would wanna be fucked till he passes out

Voyeurism kink

Loves to beg while he's crying and being overstimulated till he cums dry

And would purposefully show off his hickey's and marks that were left on him from the night before

------

I have alot more in my brain but I forgot, I just needed to her these thoughts out, probably might write a fic about him and the cameras, who should I write for next? :3

[bratdotcom]

Big Shot

( Hughie Campbell x reader || helping your boyfriend out, established relationship, teasing ♡ )

Hughie hastily looks around his room, fresh out of the shower, curls still damp and clinging tightly to his head. His eyes narrow as he continues his search, his hastiness makes you peek over the top of your magazine.

“Where..where is it?” he murmurs, ransacking his own drawers to look for whatever he's searching for.

Nose now fully out of your magazine, you look over at your boyfriend. "What're you lookin' for, Hughie?" you ask, watching as he begins throwing- more like tossing various shirts onto the floor. "A shirt- my Billy Joel shirt." he replies, still searching. Which didn't really help you imagine exactly which shirt he was looking for. He had too many Billy Joel shirts to count. You weren't complaining about it, though.

Deciding to help, you set your magazine off to the side. "Which one?" you ask, getting up from his bed.

Hughie stands there, clad in nothing but the towel that draped against his waist and the small drops of water that accompanied them. You were in his shirt. The Billy Joel shirt he was tearing his own room apart for.

He tilts his head to the side in disbelief. "You coulda at least told me." he says, looking down at the shirt, his shirt you were wearing. He didn't sound mad, not even in the slightest.

You look down at his shirt as if you weren't the one who put it on this morning. "Oh, this?" You pretend to notice that you're wearing one of his shirts just now, pulling it down a bit to properly show him the graphic on it. "I found it in that pile of shirts you never wear. You really need to clean that up, babe." You say, enunciating your tone when you call him the pet name.

You knew how the man worked. Inside and out. A simple pet name was enough to make his heart flutter.

Hughie eyes said pile of band tees, you weren't wrong. You didn't look bad in one of his shirts either. Hell, you looked great.

He looks back at you, tips of his ears reddening slightly. "You.. you look good in that." he comments quietly, finger and thumb sheepishly rubbing together. He was falling in love with you all over again just because you were wearing one of his shirts.

You try to hide your smile at his words.

"What did you say, Hughie?" You ask on purpose, just to hear him say it again. Hearing the shyness in his voice made you melt. It was like he was complimenting you for the first time ever in his life.

As if you haven't been dating him for months.

Realizing that you're making him repeat his words on purpose, Hughie clears his throat, making eye contact with you. "I-I said you look nice." He repeats, cringing slightly at the sound of his own stutter. "You look really good in my shirt." He adds, eyes flitting from your face to the way the article of clothing fits your body. It was loose, but not too loose. The perfect boyfriend fit. In his opinion, at least.

You smile even more at him. "Enough to let me keep it?" You ask playfully, making Hughie crack a smile himself. He shakes his head with the same air of playfulness you have.

"Maybe." He replies.

"What do ya mean, maybe?" You laugh a bit more, grabbing the clothes Hughie threw carelessly onto the ground. "Maybe." He repeats without elaborating further, helping clean up his own mess as well.

As a good boyfriend should.

[seancekitsch]

A Win is a Win: A Hughie Campbell x Reader Kinktober fic

warnings: semi public smut, mentions of blood, hughie is too sweet for his own good, slightly dom hughie? cream pie, slight exhibition, this is really nice and sweet smut

“We lived! Don’t you get it? We lived! We should celebrate,” you excitedly slap Hughie on the arm from your seat on top of a checkout counter, kicking your legs as you watch the air tag move further and further away from your location, going back uptown.

“Okay, but barely,” Hughie scoffs, slightly skeptical that the coast is clear. You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the GPS. You then motion to the shuttered abandon storefront you’re taking shelter behind. The angle of the slats let you see out to the street, but as far as anyone out there knows, this place is empty. People walk by the near abandoned building without knowing any wiser, going about their day talking and laughing. There’s no sign of danger. You’re protected. Poor Hughie, you think, always worrying and always trying to think two steps ahead.

“Hughie,” your voice goes soft, pulling him by the arm closer to you, “Please just count a win as a win.”

You’re not begging, but you might as well be. He nods, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows.

“A win is a win,” he concedes, leaning his hip against the counter you’re sat on, leaning into your touch. His body is warm against you, radiating around you. You really should have worn a jacket, but then again, you’re never prepared for how the cold settles in New York in the fall no matter how long you’ve lived here. He leans into you, his peacoat pressing into the side of your face as his body relaxes. This is maybe your favorite thing about Hughie, when he lets his guard down and the tension leaves him.

“You said you wanted to celebrate?” he asks, bringing up your original excitement. You nod against his arm, looking up at him with a smile on your face.

“How did you want to do that, hmm?” he asks, a smile starting to tug at the side of his lips as well.

You look away from him, pursing your lips for a second pretending to think about it.

“What about…” you trail off, eyes meeting his as you press your tongue to the inside of your cheek, pushing it out. He half cough, half scoffs.

“Seriously?” he asks, the smile tugging a little more at his face. You shrug, why not?

“Wh-what? Does running for your life, like, get you going or something? This what you’re into?” The criticism in his tone is playful, with Hughie leaning more into you as you start to laugh at his insinuation.

“Only when it comes to you,” you fire back, a wry smile spreading.

“Oh only me?” he asks, pointing at himself with fake surprise and a voice full of sarcasm, “Wow, I must be so lucky.”

“Shut up,” you mumble as you slap him in the chest playfully, Hughie moving to come around you, his hands placing loosely at your hips.

He kisses the top of your head, and squeezes your hips.

“And let me guess, you wore leggings for easy access or something?” He asks, and you actually gasp. Usually Hughie isn’t the one making the sexual jokes, but you play along.

“Uh huh. You got me! I put on easy access clothing because I wanted to run for my life in broad daylight just as a little treat for you,” you scoff, and your fingers start to move against the buttons of his peacoat, hands grasping for his chest as he settles between your knees. His hands move from your hips down the sides of your thighs, and then back up the tops of them. His hands are so incredibly warm, so unlike the fall chill outside. He pulls your hips to the edge of the counter, effectively pressing you against him and spreading your legs even more to accommodate.

“Well, this is like the one thing I won’t complain about,” Hughie admits, and then captures your lips in a kiss. He kisses slowly, like he wants to taste every inch of you.

His lips and tongue work you open, your arms pulling him in as everything Hughie consumes you. His tongue moves against yours, voracious and passionate. Subdued, sweet Hughie, as you’ve noticed, likes to take the lead like this. His hands move of their own accord too, shifting from your hips to your ass, squeezing and feeling you up. His pushes kiss you backwards, his long and lean frame bending atop you. Pushing, pushing, until you finally cannot bend further. You break the kiss laughing, ungracefully letting your elbows break the fall of your back against the counter. Hughie cracks up, on pulling away long enough to throw his head back in laughter.

“Sorry,” he apologizes between giggles, but you just break down in laughter too, letting yourself lie back flat against the counter.

Hughie takes this opportunity to grab your thighs, to pull you by them to the edge of the counter. His hands move up and down the fabric of the leggings, soft to the touch. Hughie’s hands stop at the apex of your thighs, spreading them only enough to fit his hand between them. His touch is like lightning as his thumb makes connection with you through your clothes, rubbing a tantalizingly slow line up and down your center. You hum in appreciation at his ministrations, leaning into his touch as he smiles down at you.

“Right there,” he mutters to himself, pressing himself harder now. You can feel him against your ass, painfully hard and straining in his slouchy jeans.

“Hurry up,” you rush him, voice strained and half a moan. He chuckles at your eagerness, and removes his hand. You whine at Hughie, high pitched and needy. You hear him mutter something about patience under his breath, but nevertheless, his hands go for the waistband of your leggings; stretching and pulling the elastic down past the curve of your ass.

The cold of the counter stings as it makes contact with your bare ass, and you gasp.

“Commando? You really were planning this,” Hughie jokes, but there’s something dark in his eyes that lets you know he’s very appreciative. 

You weren’t planning this, not exactly. What’s the point in wearing underwear on what was supposed to be a cozy Saturday running errands in Tribeca with your new friend with benefits? But no matter what, it’s definitely working to your satisfaction, especially as Hughie lifts your ankles up to rest on his shoulders. 

“Careful, Hughie,” you warn him, “Keep teasing me and I’ll start wearing underwear more often.”

You don’t actually mean that. Hughie knows you don’t actually mean that.

He laughs, and unzips his jeans. Hughie gazes down with you with eyes full of affection, warmth coloring his every motion as he lines himself up with you. He rubs the tip of his cock against you, the same slow and teasing motion he did with his thumb, and you gasp; shutting your eyes tightly as you ready yourself. 

He pushes in with a gasp of his own. This is maybe only the fifth time you’ve done this, Hughie and you and this all new as you both agreed to hook up to ease the pain and stress, already a sensation you crave with him. 

He bottoms out with a groan, placing his hands on your thighs and once again rubbing them up and down to soothe you. 

“You into this?” you ask, not exactly done messing with him, “You into the fact that if any of these people walking by could become looky-loos if they tried hard enough?”

Hughie rolls his eyes and scoffs, before rolling his hips back into you; shutting you up. 

“Don’t use that word,” he dismisses. 

“What word? Hard? People? Fact?” you keep pressing the joke, and he rolls his hips a little harder to make you yelp as his hips bump your ass. 

“I wish I could kiss you right now to shut you up but I don’t bend that way,” he jokes back, and starts to pick up a rhythm. He thrusts steadily, holding you in place as you try to arch your back into his motions. You do shut up, half because you dont want to tease Hughie too much, half because he’s making you breathless with each thrust. You gasp and moan in time with his hips: in-gasp-out-moan, in-gasp-out-moan. 

“Fuck,” Hughie gasps, sweat beading across his brow as he speeds up. 

“Close?” you ask, your voice breathy and far away, like being carried away through the air. He nods eagerly, hands squeezing your thighs, fingernails digging into the soft flesh. 

“Me too,” you nod as well, straining the arch in your back to get to that angle that makes you see stars. Hughie seems to know what you’re trying to do, always weirdly in tune with your wants and needs. Even the first time you and he hooked up, he just seemed to know what helped you reach your pleasure without asking. 

Hughie takes your right leg off his shoulder, and moves it to his other shoulder to rest with your left leg. And this new position… God. Everything feels tighter, hotter, brighter. 

“Oh my god,” Hughie groans, clearly also loving the change, “So fucking tight.”

Hughie throws his head back with another groan, his fingers digging even harder into your legs. They’re sure to bruise, and you don’t care. A loud moan escapes your lips, and your hands flex, reaching for any purchase as you rapidly approach your end.

“Fuck, Hughie, I-“ you cut yourself off with another moan, your head falling back hard against the counter with a thud. 

“Let go, let go,” He coaxes you, squeezing your legs together tighter.

A dam breaks— you shudder, a low moan, Hughie works you through it, slowing his pace but never stopping; his own release coming quietly, heat pooling in you.

“Hughie,” you gasp, as he finally slows to a stop inside you. He holds you there, a moment of stillness. 

Then Hughie moves your legs, and pulls your leggings back over your ass; he tucks himself back in his jeans as you sit back up and grimace. 

“What?” he asks, coming back to the counter to envelop you in a hug.

“This walk home is gonna be so gross,” you say, already feeling yours and Hughie’s spend starting to drip.

“Well do you think the coast is clear? We can walk back to your place and take a shower,” Hughie suggests, turning his head to peek through the slats in the security gate. 

“We?” you ask, joking with him, “Who says I wanna make a day of this?”

“Uh, well, the best scalp massage below ninth street might be a factor in your decision,” Hughie jokes back, sarcasm laced in his tone. You can’t deny that man has some magic fingers, especially when they’re rubbing shampoo into your hair. You'd found that out last week as you scrubbed blood form each others bodies.

“You make a fair point, Campbell. Lets go.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Find Your Way Back Home: Part Five

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: smut, made to feel worthless, being told you're only good for fucking and nothing else, feeling guilty for sleeping with someone else, angst

Summary: Dean left. He left to be with some other woman while you were left behind to pick up the pieces after Sam fell into the cage. Now he's back, you're not sure how he is, but he's... different. More ruthless... sexier, even. You two start your own friends-with-benefits thing until Dean comes back into your life, and all those emotions you've been repressing come shining through.

Author’s Note: This is the fifth part of six parts of the commission for @winchester-sinchester. Dean is thirty-one, the reader is twenty-three, and Sam is twenty-seven.

x

You pull your hair into a tight ponytail while staring at yourself in the mirror. You hate to say that you’re starting to not recognize the person staring back at you. She didn't ask to be this way. She got life thrust into the palm of her hands and was told to deal with it. When you first got into hunting, you didn't think you’d end up here.

Focus, Y/N. Don’t think about that. Get ready.

Whenever you go on hunts, you put your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. People have told you to cut it since it’s so long but you like your hair too much to do that to it. You grab two knives off your vanity and slip them into their holsters when you feel hands on your shoulder. You close your eyes when they start to roam down your body around your curves.

If you close your eyes, you can still pretend it’s him.

He turns you in his arms and presses his lips against yours. It still feels wrong kissing him even after so much time has passed since him. Before he can distract you, you pull away from him and open your eyes. Sam stands in front of you, and no matter how hard you picture Dean, it’s always going to be Sam now.

Dean left you for the last time. He left you right after Sam fell into the cage to be with her. Lisa. Lisa fucking Braeden. In the beginning, you were hurt and confused as to why he would choose her over you. Why would he choose a woman he hasn’t seen or spoken to in eight years over the woman he’s been with since he was eighteen?

It broke your heart to see him with her, to see him be happy with her, but you told yourself this is what he chose. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe telling you to move on, you don’t know what was. He was able to so why shouldn’t you? It was a shock to find Sam roaming about after he fell into the cage, but he claims he doesn’t know how he got out. All he knows is that he fell into the cage and he woke up on solid ground.

He’s been different since came back, more ruthless, more impulsive, but you figured spending time with two archangels would do that to a person. You choose not to think too much about it because then you’re forced to think about you and Sam together which forces you to think about Dean and the decision he made without you.

“You look so good right now,” Sam whispers. He leans down and kisses your neck not-so-gently while nipping at the skin. “I could just eat you for hours.”

“We need to go on the hunt,” you sigh and tip your head back.

“I can be quick.”

Before Sam can sink to his knees, the door to the bedroom opens. You pull away from him to see Samuel Campbell, the Winchester’s grandfather, standing there with a scowl on his face.

“What’s taking so long? We need to go.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

You push Sam away from you and grab your gun off the vanity. Hunting had become routine since shacking up with Sam, so this is light work. You’re seriously impressed with how far you’ve come. You’re not the same scared little ten-year-old Sam and Dean met.

Hunting with Sam is a whole experience in and of itself. As you’ve mentioned before, he’s ruthless and doesn’t care who gets in his way. He will fuck up whoever he needs to fuck up without regard to who is getting in his way.

“Y/N, take Sam with you to the back end of the house. We’ll take the front. Remember, this guy is an alpha. It’ll take more than just silver to take it down,” Samuel warns.

“Got it. Shoot it with silver bullets a ton.” You turn to Sam who is already moving to the back of the house. “Sam!” You roll your eyes and quickly catch up to him. “You can’t go off on your own.”

“You’re not my keeper, Y/N. I’m just here to do the damn job.”

Damn, Hell must have really fucked him up. What happened to the young man who took everything personally and wore his heart on his sleeve? What’s in front of you now is a shell of the man you once knew. Doubt and uncertainty creep in the back of your mind but you push it down because if you confront it, you’ll have to look into why Sam is so different. That might mean drama for you. That might mean bringing Dean back into your life, and you can’t do that to yourself.

Sam takes the lead, as always, and completes the hunt in record time. He is fearless and doesn’t let the alpha’s pets stand in his way. He was gonna kill the alpha if it weren’t for Samuel asking to keep it. He claims he wants to interrogate the creature before killing it, and Sam doesn’t care enough to ask questions.

He didn’t bat an eye when Samuel took the creature away.

Sam builds up so much energy during hunts that he usually works out to get rid of it, but this time he decides to take you back to his bedroom. Since coming back, he’s never been gentle with you. All he wants is a rough fuck, and you’re delusional enough to give it to him. If you told him to stop, he would, but he feels too damn good to actually stop.

There is no prep time with him, other than checking to see if you’re dripping for him, which you are. Dean has been rough with you every once in a while which is one of your kinks. Sam must have figured it out because he loves manhandling the women he fucks.

He flips you on all fours and grabs your hips to pull your ass into the air. Underwear is no obstacle for him because he grabs the sides of the flimsy fabric and rips it into two.

“Shit, Sam. That was my favorite pair.”

“I’ll buy you more.”

He won’t. He pulls his cock out of his pants and runs the tip up and down your slit. Dean was the only one you’ve ever been bare with before Sam. It feels weird to have another man’s cock inside you when you’re still so in love with Dean. It’s a damn good thing you’re still on the pill because you’d never forgive yourself if you got pregnant with Sam’s child.

After coating his cock with your wetness, he slides into your pussy easily. He sets a hard and fast pace from the get-go, and you arch your back with your mouth in an O shape. He grabs your hair to keep your back arched as he pounds into you.

“Fuck! Sam!” you gasp.

With his free hand, he slaps your ass twice to watch it bounce. Not that he needs any help because his hips are doing a good job of it.

“Next time, I’m fucking this ass,” he grunts out.

You hate how easily he can bring you to the brim. It’s like he’s not even trying when it comes to you. He doesn’t stop after the first orgasm, no. He brings you over the edge four more times before coming himself. He’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure.

Dean is still on your mind but you’ve fucked Sam so much that he’s pushed all the way to the back. That’s what hunting with Sam for months on end will do to you. Dean is still living in his bubble of happiness while you try to pick up the pieces he left behind.

After months of hunting alphas and bringing them to Samuel, you finally get a break. He’s hunting the vampire alpha which is going to take time since he’s very crafty. He got word that alphas were dying so he took extra precautions to hide away. Still, that doesn’t stop Samuel from going after him.

“Hey, Sam. You got a second?” you ask.

He’s in his room working out. He’s using the rafters to do pull-ups, exposing his tanned skin and hardened abs.

“What’s up?”

“There’s a carnival in town that has laser tag. I can get tickets if you want to go with me.”

“Pass,” he grunts out and drops to the ground.

“Come on. It could be fun.”

Sam walks toward you with a smirk on his face that makes you stop talking. He towers over you and uses that intimidation to his advantage.

“Let me be perfectly clear. You’re nothing but a good fuck and that’s it. I don’t want to go on dates with you or ask you how your day is. I’ll come to you when I want you wrapped around my cock. Okay?”

He leaves the room to take a shower while you’re left in his room with a broken heart and a lump in your throat. Tears threaten to fall but you won’t let them. Dean was and is a lot of things, but he’d never treat you this way. Instead of crying like a baby about this, you push down your feelings and pick yourself up like you’ve always done.

The months slowly drag on with you doing the same thing over and over again each and every day. Go on hunts with Sam and Samuel, kill everyone but alphas, go home and fuck Sam, feel bad afterward because of it, go to sleep, and do it all over again. Before you know it, a year has passed and you’re nowhere closer to feeling like how you used to feel.

Dean is still gone and your heart is still aching. Someone with a higher power in the universe must be listening to your pain because it brought Dean to you in a way that isn’t so surprising. He tried to get out of the life but was always listening to radios, reading newspapers, and trying to hook up with hunters to see what was going on. He didn’t want to put Ben and Lisa in danger so he never brought his work home with him until he got attacked by a group of Djinn.

The reunion you’ve been hoping for didn’t go quite according to plan. Dean wasn’t so happy to find out that his brother had been alive for a year.

“You’re kidding me, right? Tell me you’re actually joking,” Dean glares at you and Sam.

“No,” Sam shakes his head.

“We didn’t want to pull you back in. You were out.”

“Pul--All I did was try to look for a way to bring you back. You’re telling me you’ve been kicking for a year now?!”

“You promised you’d leave the cage alone.”

“Fuck that. I didn’t go poking it but that didn’t stop me from trying to figure out how the hell to get my brother back. You’ve been with him this whole time?” Dean asks you.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to destroy your perfect life with Lisa.”

“Come on, don’t do that,” he sighs.

You’re already walking away from him. All the feelings you’ve suppressed for the past year come rushing out and you have to walk away before you do something you regret. Your heart aches for Dean despite the amount of time that has passed since you’ve seen him.

Once the Djinn were taken care of, Dean wanted to stay with you and Sam to continue hunting. He didn’t want to leave Lisa and Ben to fend for themselves so he spent most of his time with you only to return to them on some weekends.

Being with Sam was great when you knew Dean wasn’t going to be a problem but he’s been trying to get back into hunting so he’s around all the time. How can you continue being with Sam when you know he’s not the one you really want? He was a good distraction for what it’s worth but he’s not enough anymore.

Sam doesn’t feel the shift in your energy otherwise he’d go find someone else to fuck. All he sees you is a good lay, and there are plenty of women willing to give themselves up for one night with him. You tried hard to be into it but it’s just not happening. Dean should be back any second from Lisa’s with a packed bag and you don’t want him catching you with his brother.

The same person who brought you and Dean together after all this time must want to start drama because he walks into Samuel’s house expecting to go to bed. Instead, he finds you and Sam on the couch with you in his lap and Sam’s lips on your neck.

“Shit, Dean,” you gasp and move off Sam’s lap so fast.

It doesn’t matter how quick you are because Dean knew what was going to happen if he hadn’t walked in.

“What the hell is going on here? You’re fucking my brother?” Dean asks.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Not anymore,” Sam shrugs.

“Shut up before I smother you with a pillow while you sleep,” you hiss.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Yeah, lucky you.”

“Y/N?” You look into Dean’s eyes and see the raw emotion in them. That causes tears to form in yours but you don’t let them fall. “Have you been sleeping with Sam this whole time?”

“Dude, you left her, like a thousand times. Fair game,” Sam smirks.

You and Dean still have your staring contest because you can’t seem to say anything that would make this better, and he can’t either. Guilt starts to weigh on your shoulders even though you did nothing to be guilty of. He left you. He moved on from you. So, why the hell do you feel like shit?

x

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[deancasbigbang]

Title: a few stations back

Author: Kordian

Artist: ImpMakesArt

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Past Mary Campbell/John Winchester

Length: 25718

Warnings: no archive warnings apply accidental knife cut, blood, referenced child abuse, referenced alcoholism

Tags: coffee shops & cafés, past relationship, artist castiel, barista dean, second chances, reunions, setting: poland, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, miscommunication

Posting Date: October 15, 2024

Summary: Dean’s a forty six year old coffee shop owner, which he runs with his friend Charlie. His life is peaceful, running on a stable routine he got used to years ago, but when one day he gets on the train, and sees a stranger so familiar it hurts, his world starts turning upside down, flooded with memories from over twenty years ago. Castiel is a successful children's book writer, on his way to publish his fifth book. Impulsively, he moves back to the town of his youth, and when he gets on the familiar train for the first time in over twenty years, he’s met with a stranger, whose face is so familiar he could swear he’s drawn it before. When two past lovers meet again as strangers, who will remind them of the love they once shared?

Excerpt: Sometimes, a thought crossed his mind, a thought of leaving, or just moving to a different neighbourhood, but then he never actually got to do anything about it. Always shaking it off, making it sit somewhere in the back of his head, putting it off for later. Except later never came, and every day he woke up in the same place he did yesterday, and the day before, and where he will wake up tomorrow. It never bothered him. They never bothered him, those thoughts. Perhaps because he knew he couldn’t leave, or because he just didn’t really want to.The fact is, he can’t explain why he’s having them. After all, he’s happy where he is, isn’t he? He’s got everything he always dreamed of, a lot of amazing friends, a café, he lives in a beautiful place… Yet, he feels like something’s missing. And that feeling never really went away. That tugging at his heart whenever he seemed to get too lost in his own thoughts. Where did it come from? When did it start? What is its purpose? It was a nice and quite simple life he made for himself here, and he loved it; he truly loved it. But all those years he could feel something absent from it, and he could not have ever figured out what it was before. Not that he could now, but maybe he was getting closer to it? His mind kept circling back to the stranger he saw on the train today. Those blue eyes, dark and always messy hair, and that smile. That specific smile, which was the final stamp to make sure he has seen this man before. And just when he was putting down Miracle's bowl, now filled with food it hit him. He felt like someone punched him in the gut, and he wanted to curl up right here on the kitchen floor of his apartment and pretend he doesn't exist. In that moment, he was finally able to put the stranger in the right timestamp of his memories, fit the dirty trench coat where it always used to hang before. He could put a name to his face, and not even saying it out loud, just thinking it over and over and over in his head like a broken record, hurt like a thousand needles piercing through his skin. One by one. Castiel. Castiel. Cas.

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