#losing everything they got is gonna hurt like hell(

[mxtantrights]

Oyendo la canción de nosotros dos

a/n: anddddd we've got a part two. damn. I'm really down bad.

this takes place six months after the first part. still following then fix-it Fanon I've got going on: Armando didn't kill the chief, he's working on reducing his jail time, his and Mike are trying to get their father/son shit together.

SIX MONTHS LATER

The bullets whizzed past you at the speed of light. You were never scared when dealing with things like this. Being shot at, having slim chances, the odds probably being stacked against you at this very moment.

But this feels different.

All those other times you didn't have anything to lose.

Even though, you don't have anything to lose now. At least you don't think so.

You reach over your shoulder at the open wound. You wince as quietly as you can with all the pain you're feeling. The blood wasn't coming out as strong as before but you still needed to get out of here and get treated.

One of the guards shooting at you tells his men to halt. The bullets stop and you can hear the casings rolling onto the floor. You hear them reload their guns. You close your eyes.

"If you tell us everything you know, we can make this less painful for you." the guard yells out.

You hardly believed that. And even if you did, it didn't secure your freedom. You weren't about to turn on anyone to save your own ass. You never done it before, why start now?

"Come out with your hands up." the guard shouts at you.

Not gonna happen.

You quietly check the gun in your hand. You have about half a clip left. You'd have to be wise. Get a couple shots in, grab another gun from one of them. Mark an exit. Get the hell out of dodge.

"You asked for this. Light her up-" the guard yells.

"Wait hold on, are we seriously not gonna try to get the information?" another voice asks.

You know that voice. You'd know that voice anywhere. That's Marcus.

"Can you shut the hell up?" another voice says.

Mike. That was Mike.

You let out a shaky breath. Right then you start smiling to yourself. You reach up to touch your lips in disbelief.

"The two of you done?" the guard from before asks.

There's a long beat before they answer quickly.

"I'm done. You good?" Marcus asks.

"I'm good. Let's light it up." Mike says.

And all at once you hear gunfire again. You know it's them. You can hear the grunts and groans of the other guards. And you can hear the bodies falling to the ground.

The guard in charge yells that the two of them are traitors and to fire on them. You jump up and try to assess the situation. Mike and Marcus have their masks off. Great that would make it easier for you to know who not to shoot.

You take out four men quickly and duck back down. Your arm roaring in pain.

The adrenaline is wearing off. The gun fire is still going off when you hear a loud sound. You turn around to find the source. The locked gate behind you, no longer locked.

There he stood in all his glory. Armando.

In his own version of a tactical suit. His arms are out and he's not wearing a mask. You can't believe how happy you are to see him. You hold onto your wounded arm and get off the floor.

It happens quickly.

As soon as you're standing with your back straight, you feel another shot go through your shoulder. It almost knocks you off your feet.

You watch Armando's eyes go wide. His hand was already on his gun. So the next thing you see is him line up a shot behind you and take it.

Then he's right in front of you. His hands on your hips. You think to yourself that this is the first time he's touched you. With intention. You hold onto his arms as you steady yourself.

"There's a car waiting, come on." he says.

You nod your head and walk in lock step with him. Well, you try your best.

As soon as you reach outside, the hot sun and the humidity of it all hits you. And you don't feel your feet walking anymore. How could you?

Armando sweeps you off your feet, right into his arms. The switching of positions for your arm hurts. You muffle a groan and hold onto him with your good arm.

He jogs over to the Jeep, and opens the door without having to move you. Then he's laying you out in the backseat. He's quick to shut the door and get into the driver's seat.

That's when things get blurry. You don't quite remember what happened after that.

Armando does. He drove like a bat out of hell. Weaving bullets and other cars. Trying his best not to get you hurt in the process.

He could see your eyes drooping in and out. He had adjusted the mirror as soon as he got into the car to keep an eye on you. He tried talking to you, to keep you awake.

You barely answered him. Only in half mumbles and soft hums.

Once he was in the clear he headed to the safe site the feds had provided. There was a medical team waiting on him when he got there. Mike or Marcus no doubt called it in.

He got out of the car as the medical team opened the backseat and started working on you. One of them lifted you out of the car as another readied a stretcher.

There was a mask over your face. A needle being injected into your wrist with an IV bag attached to the other side.

Armando made sure to keep up with the team rolling you inside but not get in their way. His heart skipped beat when you got shot. He saw it happen but he should have prepared for it.

Why didn't he think of it?

The medical team rolls you into a makeshift room. One of the federal officers keeps Armando out. He can see though the plastic tent though. So he stands there, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Hoping he had brought you here in time. Hoping that he didn't just watch your last moments.

-

2 WEEKS LATER

You adjust the sling on your shoulder as the prison guard tells you the visitor rules. You're half wanting to just tell him it's a conjugal visit to get him off your back.

But you nod and verbal agree to follow the rules.

The guard opens the door with several keys. Which you think is pretty excessive, but you say nothing about. You watch as he opens the door and parts to let you in.

You thank him and walk inside.

He's in his cell, on the floor. He's doing push-ups. You could laugh. Mike said that you'd probably catch him during his work out. Apparently it's one of the only things he likes to do in his cell.

He no doubt heard the door open. Why he didn't stop was beyond you.

You clear your throat and he stops mid-way. He pushes off the floor and faces you. He stops in his tracks, almost like he wasn't expecting you.

Well, it's not like you called ahead to let him know you'd be here.

"Hi." he says.

You're taken back. You weren't really expecting him to just say hi to you. He did after all save your life. You thought he'd rub it in your face, or make some quick remark about you owing him a favor.

You don't know why just one word from him is making you nervous. With a quick swallow down of the lump in your throat you walk a little closer to his cell.

"Hey." you say back.

"How's the arm?" he asks.

You look over at the sling that currently resides on your arm. You roll your eyes.

"I could've done without being shot and this totally ruins all my outfits but I'll live." you joke.

You can see the start of a smile on his face. You take another step closer. He leans against the gate of the cell, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm glad. But what exactly brings you here?"

You clear your throat, "I never got to thank you. For saving my life. I woke up in the hospital and you weren't there."

"I'm sorry. I had somewhere to be." he points around the cell.

You snicker a little, "I know. Which is why I figured I would do you a favor."

"You don't have to-" he starts.

"I want to."

He smiles fully now, looking you up and down. On purpose. You have no doubt that Armando can look at you fully without making it look obvious. But then again, it wouldn't be him.

"What'd you got in mind, querida?"

-

THE NEXT NIGHT

Armando is sitting in the booth all the way in the back of the cafe. You, with your sling over your leather jacket, walk all the way to the back. Your good hand carrying the file folder.

You slide into the booth, trying you best not to let out a wince at the move. Some things were still hard for you. Even though physical therapy was going well.

"Shit I didn't think about your arm, we can sit somewhere else." Armando says, already trying to get up from his seat without asking.

"Oh sit the hell down. I'm already sitting." you say.

He sits back in his seat without another remark. Which makes you wonder why but you rationalize that it's because your injured that he's going easy on you. You guess the sling isn't that bad.

"I've got a way for you to finish off the rest of your sentence." you say.

You slide the folder over the table to him. He look at you then the folder. Then he takes the folder and opens it. His fingers flip the pages, his eyes scanning them rapidly.

"coches, armas, drogas...this won't be easy." he says.

You tilt your head, "I didn't think you'd back down from this. Well, if you want maybe I can snag a few lower tier cases. Might take us a while to get you out but..."

He looks right at you then In your eyes.

"Us?" he asks.

You give him a credulous look, "That's what I said."

He hums. His eyes return to the file.

"You're still in a sling. How's that going to work?" he asks.

"You'll be muscle and I'll be brains." you answer.

The corner of his lip curls upward into a smirk. You can't help but smile at him. To stop yourself from smiling too much you reach for the glass of water.

You bring it to your lips and take a few gulps.

"This party that the target is going to be at is tonight. Who's doing recon?" he asks.

"You and me. My contacts are a bit hesitant to work with me in public." you comment.

Armando rolls his eyes, "That's not loyalty."

You shrug your shoulders and wince at the pain in your shoulder. Yes you got shot, no you weren't used to remembering that you couldn't use your shoulder like normal.

"Careful." Armando says.

"I understand why they don't wanna stick their necks out. I mean German let everyone know who I was." you reply.

Armando puts the file down. Completely. And he looks directly at you then.

"You should have gotten your way. I'm sorry about that."

"Not your fault. Just the way things happened. Besides there's always a chance I could." you say as you look out the dinner window.

The cars driving past on the local expressway. You had chosen this place to meet because of the distance from your target. Far enough to not draw any suspicion but close enough to get the job done.

"Still wanna killl him?"

You sigh, "thinking about it."

-

You don't know how you find yourself in these types of situations. Fresh off an injury and here you are, facing gunfire again.

The shattering of glass from the bar makes your heart race.

And that's when it happens. Everything around you goes in slow motion. The thousands of pieces of glass falling to the floor from the divider between you and the gunmen.

The strobe lights over head that cut between the dark. Flashes of pink and blue and green and yellow litter your body in different styles. You raise your hands over your head to protect it from the glass.

Not even a second later, Armando is grabbing you. He's tugging you down onto the ground, underneath a table. What he doesn't anticipate is how much weight he has to him. The both of you go tumbling to the floor.

He's laying on top of you. He cradles your head in his arms as the shots keep ringing out. You feel like you're in a movie or something. It can't be real.

You cannot be on the floor in the middle of a shootout and the only thing on your mind is Armando. Yes you found him attractive before but this is something different. Something a bit stronger.

He's pulling you up by your good arm and hauling ass out of the club.

The two of you work without saying anything to each other. You send some shots back to keep the two of you covered while Armando works on getting the two of you to a safe spot.

That's when you finally say something.

"The van. Make a right!" you shout.

Armando takes a sharp turn. The two of you run all the way to the middle of the street where the van is parked. You left it unlocked just incase things went south. How thankful you are for your contingency plan.

You and Armando let go of each other. You flank left tot he driver's side and he goes to the passenger side. Both of you open and close the doors at the same time.

With a quickness you grab the keys from the overhead compartment and put them in the ignition. As soon as you hear the engine turn over you punch the gas.

-

You hear Armando close the motel door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as you fluff up your hair, trying to get the pieces of glass out.

"You got hurt." you hear him say.

You turn around confused as hell. You look down at the front of your body but you find nothing. Sure the mini dress you're wearing is torn at the sides but there's no blood. And you don't feel any pain.

Armando softly grabs your arm and maneuvers you to the bathroom. Not that you needed to be maneuvered any more tonight by him. Your brain couldn't handle his hands on you so much like this.

He flicks the light on and positions you in front of the mirror. He turns you to the side and holds your arm out so you can see it.

You can see the three small shards of glass sticking out of the back of your arm. You didn't even feel it. Huh. Must be all the adrenaline.

Before you can make some smart joke, Armando is checking you for any other injuries. Like actually checking you. He scans you with his eyes and lightly pats you down.

In your head you wonder how that worked for him. Was he going to feel the injury or see the blood on his hands?

"Get on the counter." he says.

But he's really not saying it like it's a request. It's an order. And you don't feel like disobeying at the moment. Your voice might betray you.

So you slide onto the counter.

He reaches underneath you into the counter. He pulls out a red box. First aid kit.

Armando opens the box and takes out all the supplies. He curses in spanish at the lack of them. Three alcohol pads. Two bandaids .An aspirin.

He motions for you to offer you arm. In order to do so, you have to turn a bit to the side. He crowds your space then. Turning the sink on and washing his hands. His face just a few inches from yours.

The sink turns off and then he looks right at you. Like in the eyes.

"I'm gonna take the glass out. No tweezers so bare with me." he warns you.

You can only nod. He gets the alcohol pads and bandaids ready, passes them to you so you can give it to him when he's done.

His thumb and pinter finger dig out the first piece of glass. Which isn't that bad. It's a small chunk, not that much damage. He drops it into the sink.

When he goes for the second chunk, you wince. It makes him stop.

"Lo siento, espera." he says.

He goes again. You shut your eyes and happen to lean your head down on the only surface in front of you and that happens to be his shoulder. He digs and gets the piece in between his fingers.

"Perdon, Perdon, just a little more." he whispers.

He pulls it out and you let out a groan. You can hear the chunk land into the sink. You don't have to see it to know it's big.

"Last one?" you ask.

"Si, estas haciendo bien." he answers.

You wince again when he nicks the piece with his fingers instead of grabbing it. But he grabs it after the first try.

"Respira," he says.

You take a deep breath in. And when you exhale he takes the piece of glass out in one pull. You ram your head even further into his shoulder.

He throws the final chunk into the sink. You open your eyes and move your head so that you can look at him. You're out of breath from the pain.

But you're still lucid enough to hand him the alcohol pad. He warns you in advance that it's going to burn but you don't really know how much until you feel it. The sting makes your body go rigid.

He has to hold onto your waist with his free hand to keep you still. He wipes down the cuts.

"Dame la tirita." he says.

You grab the bandaids and hand them over to him. He chuckles to himself at something. You're not sure what. But you can feel the warmth from his hand on your waist. It's making you more woozy than anything else.

You pick your head up from his shoulder.

"I didn't think I'd end up out of breath in a bathroom with you, but que sera right?" you joke.

He looks at you then, with a smile. The bandaids still in his hand. He doesn't say anything. He just smiles at you and then shakes his head. Like you never even said anything he goes back to placing the bandaid.

"This is the third time you've saved my life." you say.

He shrugs his shoulders like it's a normal thing. His fingers press the sticky sides of the bandaid down into your skin. You can feel his thumb brushing over it.

"Nothing smart to say?" you ask.

He shakes his head, "I know when to shut up."

"Yeah like when you were in the hospital with me after I got shot?" you ask.

He looks at you a bit taken back. You remember how he was only able to spend two nights there. After that he had to be brought back to his cell.

But oh how fun it was to hearts voice talk about meaningless things just to keep you company. Like how you may have gotten shot but one time his mom was cooking with oil on the stove and the pop of oil against his skin hurt worse.

"You remember that?" he asks you this time.

"Most of it. I was pretty loopy. But I got bits and pieces. Before you had to leave." you answer.

He hangs his head then. You wonder why for a moment. but he doesn't let you wonder for too long when he answers your unspoken question.

"So you heard my stupid schoolboy confession." he says.

Which was not what you were expecting. Because you definitely did not hear him confess anything while he sat by your bedside. On one hand you feel bad about letting him reveal it to you now when you didn't know.

But on the other hand... it does feel good to know that whatever your feeling isn't one-sided.

"You never said anything." he adds on.

You snap out of your thoughts. Okay, you couldn't let him think that you knew before this. His head is hung low like he's ready for rejection.

"That's because I didn't know." you answer honestly.

His head picks back up. He looks you in the eyes now. You can feel it in your belly.

"mi gran boca estúpido..." he mumbles under his breath. But because the two of you are the only ones in the small bathroom.

Deciding to take the man out of his misery you reach up slowly with your closest hand. You can feel the stumble growing on his cheeks and the sharp line of his jaw.

"I like your big stupid mouth." you say.

A smile creeps onto his lips. And you can't help the way that you end up smiling.

"Yeah?" he asks.

You nod your head slowly, staring to close the space between you two. You can feel his breath on your lips. The way his eyes flutter down to look at your lips drives you crazy.

"Yeah."

Armando closes the space between the two of you fully. Your lips meet in the middle. It's not a clash or a crash. It's gentle. Something you weren't expecting from him.

Then again, he defies you're every expectation.

You bring your arm up to wrap around his neck but you wince. Finally remembering that your arm was supposed to be in a sling. He pulls away from you all too quickly. You don't like it.

"Stop pouting, you're hurt." he says.

"I'll just take the aspirin. You can go back to what you were doing." you tease.

He hums a response to you. His lips chasing yours once again. His hand that was on your arm travels to your hip, where his other hand never left. You lean back against the bathroom mirror, and when he pushes against you to kiss you deeper you feel the heat in your chest.

You're really glad he decided to be a smart ass the first time you met him.

[letsrevince]

Man this sucks

Cohost will become read only on October 1st, and will shut down and be deleted on December 31st. Genuinely sad to see it going, it was a cool alternative to Tumblr, merits and blemishes and all(

[hauntingblue]

Last arcane episode ever..... here we fucking go....

[saeshiraw]

tired girl hours i’m just ranting bcos i don’t have enough time to cry

[socially-reluctant]

i think my bearded dragon is dying.

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hushed fantasies ¡

pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.

contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)

a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

word count 1.7k

You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(

Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.

nic: oh?

nic: i think you got the wrong person

You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.

You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.

But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.

Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.

Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.

And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.

You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.

He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.

That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.

And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.

You: i didnt mean to send that to you

The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

nic: clearly

nic: i dont have a gf btw

Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?

You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.

He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.

You: cover your eyes pls

You: this wasn't for u

nic: you sure?

nic: are there any other nics in your life?

Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?

You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.

You: what if there is

The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?

nic: then that would be disappointing.

Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.

nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else

Oh my god, were you dreaming?

You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.

Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?

You: ??? wdym

nic: you first

nic: was this about me, doll?

The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.

He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.

You: what if it was

You: what will you do ab it

You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?

nic: then id risk it all

Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.

You: are you saying this because you’re tired

nic: no

nic: god no

There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.

Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.

You: it is

nic: it is what?

You: this is so embarrassing

You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about

nic: baby

nic: jus tell me

You: no you suck im going to sleep

nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute

You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.

You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute

nic: oh? so you do admit it

You: …

You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.

nic: you couldve told me yk

You: do you hear yourself

nic: ? what

You: nic you know this is wrong

You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it

nic: you knkw

nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot

You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

You: what are you saying

nic: fucking hell

nic: take the hint baby

You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.

You: what

nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious

nic: i wouldve happily showed you

That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.

The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.

He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.

You: dont say that

nic: what, you don't believe me?

You: nic

nic: give me five

You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.

As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.

nic: open the door

nic: im outside your room

You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.

He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.

The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.

The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.

[mrshesh]

i saw on your rules that you don’t write hardcore nsfw, so im gonna try to stay tame LOL

how would ghost be in bed? i feel like im so conflicted about this topic

ghost in bed - simon "ghost" riley x reader

overview: how simon "ghost" riley would be like in bed

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: smut, fluff

a/n: i'm actually so passionate about this topic. he's very misrepresented in our fandom, so i'd like to give my two cents regarding this topic. thanks for the request, anon!

TW! mentions of SA, abuse, suicide, and torture. proceed with caution.

Contrary to popular belief, he is not the rough dom everyone makes him out to be. He wouldn’t slap or spit on you. He wouldn’t push your head into the mattress and call you the filthiest words that come to mind - no, he’d be gentle, careful, and loving. 

Simon has been through hell and back - he knows what it feels like to be hurt better than anyone. Physically, verbally, emotionally, and psychologically, you name it! He knows it all, so he doesn’t get off on it. 

His past is extremely gut-wrenching. He got betrayed by everyone, even his own team. He got tortured for months and months on end, to the point where he got severe PTSD and anxiety. He suffers from nightmares and panic attacks and has even tried to take his own life. We also know that he got SA’d in the past, in the months he got gravely tortured. (Reading the comic was seriously terrifying.)

The fact that his father was abusive isn’t helping his case, either. 

And on top of that, he dislikes exposing his body and face. 

So best believe he’s only sleeping with you when you fully trust each other.

And when he does have sex with you, my god, it’s gentle. 

He loves missionary and sitting cowgirl. Being able to hold you close, look you in the eyes, kiss your cheeks, and press his forehead against yours - those things he’d do during sex, not choke you till you pass out.

He has lost everything he has ever loved, so losing what he loves the most, you, is out of the question for him. And that results in him being extremely cautious while having sex. He’s terrified of scaring you away. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear constantly. “I love you so much.” “Takin’ me so well.” “You’re so beautiful.” 

His face is redder than a tomato. Having intimacy with someone he loves is a pretty new thing to him, so his cheeks are painted a light pink from the get-go. 

The aftercare consists of soft kisses, compassionate touches as he cleans you up, and praise, so much praise. 

The moral of the story - he's a gentle giant who's absolutely terrified to lose you, despite his hard rock exterior.

this turned dark really quick, but it had to be said.

[punkshort]

Broken

Thank you anon for this request!

An I Know Who You Are one-shot

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel finds out you got hurt on patrol.

Warnings: Joel POV, language, allusions to smut, descriptions of injuries/blood, amnesia, angst

WC: 2.5K

When Joel had knocked on Maria's door that morning, he still wore a small smile on his face as images of your perfect morning flashed across his eyes. The way your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he flexed his hips, the breathy sounds you made in his ear, how tight you felt wrapped around his cock.

At that point in his life, he assumed he was not meant for happiness. He had been through too much. The world threw everything it had at him and he crumbled. He let it ruin him and forge him into a cold, distant shell of who he once was.

And then he met you.

You were like a beam of light in an otherwise dark world. A breath of fresh air in a prison cell. A beautiful, yellow flower that grew amongst the disastrous landscape surrounding him. He couldn't help but be drawn to you. To want to lose himself in you, if you'd let him. And against all odds, you wanted him too.

You wanted him, too.

What were the chances? Finding love in the world before was nearly impossible. Once he found you, he began to wonder for the first time if all his suffering had meaning. If everything terrible and rotten that happened to him was all pushing him along on a path to find you.

Maria swung the door open with Violet wrapped around her hip and she grinned.

"You look pretty chipper this morning."

Joel immediately wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with a frown. He preferred to reserve that side of himself just for you.

"Tommy said y'need the dresser looked at?"

She nodded and stepped to the side so he could enter. He toed off his boots and glanced around. Jackson didn't have much, but the community did well with what they had, including toys for kids. Last he heard, the town had a monthly rotation of toys for all the little ones so everyone got to have a turn with the best ones.

He made a mental note to look for some new ones when he was outside the walls next.

"It's Violet's dresser," Maria explained, shifting his niece on her hip and leading him towards the back of the house. "Caught her climbing it last week, nearly gave me a heart attack."

She flicked on the light to Violet's room and made a face when she looked at the broken drawers.

"Well, better the dresser broke than the kid," he said, crouching down to get a better look.

"Do you think you can fix it?"

He gave the other drawers a tug, testing them to make sure they weren't damaged as well before standing with a groan.

"I'll have to make new drawers, this wood's busted, but yeah. Anythin' that's broken, I can fix it."

Maria gasped excitedly and looked at Violet, eyes wide and mouth spread into a huge smile. "Did you hear that? Uncle Joel's gonna fix your dresser, baby!"

He couldn't help but smile when Violet said, "thank you," with some prompting from Maria, of course.

"You're welcome. Just don't go climbin' on it when I'm done."

Joel spent the rest of the morning at the woodshed collecting scraps of two by fours that he could use to create two dresser drawers from scratch. At first, he thought he was in over his head. In a different life with all the right tools, he could have done this task without breaking a sweat.

"'Anythin' that's broken, I can fix it'," he scoffed, repeating his earlier words under his breath with a shake of his head. "The hell was I thinkin'?"

But he used what he had at his disposal, even if it meant using an axe to cut the right pieces of wood for the job instead of an electric saw. With a little patience and some thinking outside the box, he finally collected all the supplies he needed in a wheelbarrow and began his trek back to Tommy's house.

"Hey, before you get started, come in and have something to eat," Maria called from the window. He nodded and shrugged off his flannel, leaving it draped over the wheelbarrow before heading inside.

When he walked into the kitchen, he was greeted with a sandwich and some lemonade on the kitchen table next to Violet, who was nibbling on some fruit and toast and singing along to some children's songs playing from a radio.

"It's all I can get her to eat lately," Maria explained when she said down across from him. "She's growing into a picky eater and it's freaking killing me."

"Mama, bad word," Violet warned with her little chubby finger pointed straight up in the air. Joel chuckled and took a bite of his sandwich.

"I didn't say a bad word, baby, it just sounded like a bad word," she said, then once Violet looked away, she rolled her eyes at Joel and mouthed she hears everything.

He ate mostly in silence, half listening to Violet's music, half thinking about how he was going to tackle the next phase of his project when Maria spoke again.

"So, you think you guys'll end up having one of these?" she asked, casually nodding towards Violet. He glanced up at her in surprise before shifting his eyes to his niece.

"Uh, well..." he nervously scratched the back of his neck as he considered her question. It wasn't something you hadn't talked about but he had been thinking a lot more about it since Violet was born. His mind was screaming absolutely not, it's not safe, it's careless and irresponsible. He couldn't protect Sarah, how could he protect a newborn or keep a toddler from having a tantrum and attracting raiders or clickers?

But then Violet squealed with delight when a berry squished between her fingers and he felt that pull in his chest that he'd been trying to ignore for the past year.

"Dunno. Maybe one day," he finally told her.

"Gonna make an honest woman of her first?" Maria asked as she cleaned up Violet's hands.

"Don't think that's really our thing," Joel replied. And it wasn't. Well, not really. He had a hell of a time trying to settle you down in the first place. He couldn't imagine what the idea of marriage would do to you. And that didn't bother him. At this point, it didn't really matter. You were his, and he was yours, and that's just how it would always be.

After he helped Maria clean up lunch, he headed back outside. The sun was shining but the temperature was comfortable while he worked. And once he had all his supplies and a plan, everything came together rather quickly. Which was good because you and Tommy would be due back from patrol any minute and he very much wanted to relax with you the rest of the day and maybe tend to the garden if either of you had any energy left.

He was just finishing up the drawers and about to take them inside when he heard Tommy shouting his name. Before he even turned around, Joel's blood ran cold. He knew that tone. Something was wrong.

He swiveled around, his face already ghostly pale, knowing and bracing for the inevitable yet he still held out hope and swept his gaze around, hoping and fucking praying he would spot you.

"Joel, c'mon," Tommy panted, swinging his arm as he began to jog back in the opposite direction. Joel grabbed his blue flannel and raced after him, his blood pressure skyrocketing.

"Is she bit?"

Tommy shook his head and Joel felt his heart slow, but it was short lived when he saw the look on his brother's face.

"Is she hurt?"

"She hit her head," Tommy said, pushing people out of the way as they made their way to the infirmary. "She's awake but somethin' ain't right."

"What'dya mean? If she's awake after a head injury, that's gotta be good, right?"

Tommy cast him a forlorn look as they reached the steps of the building. "She can't remember."

Joel frowned. "Can't remember what?"

Tommy's eyes shifted around as they paused for a moment on the stairs. "She can't remember... any of it. The outbreak. This town... nothin'."

Joel swallowed and dropped his chin to his chest. He was grateful you were alive, grateful you weren't seriously injured, but this? This was not something he expected.

"So you're sayin' she don't remember me?"

Tommy's silence was all he needed to know. Joel's chest tightened and he felt his legs begin to shake. This wasn't real. He just saw you a few hours ago. He just fucked you a few hours ago. He was just talking to Maria about your future together... how could this be happening?

"Maybe..." he began, then pinched his eyes shut when he felt the swell of anxiety rise and squeeze his throat. "Maybe she just needs to see me."

"Joel, we gotta be careful 'bout this," Tommy warned, "she's real spooked. I almost couldn't get her to come back with me. She was talkin' 'bout goin' home and findin' her family-"

Joel's face crumpled. "You're fuckin' with me, right?" he croaked, blinking back tears. Tommy averted his gaze and shook his head, giving Joel a moment. He collapsed on the bottom step and hung his head between his knees, trying to focus on taking deep breaths and clearing his vision, but he could feel it. He felt it all those years ago when Sarah died in his arms and he felt it again: the shock that melted into despair which inevitably morphed into white hot rage.

"Joel..." Tommy said lowly, picking up on the shift in his brother's eyes.

"I gotta see her."

He stood and spun around so fast, Tommy hardly had time to react. Joel was halfway down the hallway through the building, kicking in all the doors before Tommy caught up, shouting at him to stop, begging him to slow down.

Then Nick rounded the corner, spotting Joel and Tommy.

"Stop!" Nick said firmly, but Joel just shoved him out of the way and barreled forward. He spotted the exam room that had a sliver of light on underneath the door and he swung it open.

His eyes scanned you up and down, assessing you for obvious injury before looking you in the eye. You appeared fine. You looked just like yourself, like nothing had happened. He didn't even see a mark on your head from the fall.

Joel felt Nick and Tommy rush up behind him and pause, no doubt studying the two of you to see how you would react. Your eyes finally left him to look questioningly over his shoulder and Joel whispered your name.

You angrily brought your gaze back to him and furrowed your brow. "What?" you snapped.

Joel swallowed again but remained perfectly still, refusing to believe you couldn't remember him.

"You remember Joel. Right, sugar?" Tommy asked gently.

Joel knew the answer before you even shook your head. He could see it in your eyes now. They were cold and closed off and scared. You never, ever looked at him like that. Not even after he told you about the hospital.

"Is it permanent?" Joel asked Nick. When the doctor began to give what he considered a bullshit answer, the anger simmering in his veins was lit on fire. He hauled Nick off the ground and yelled something in his face but for the life of him he couldn't remember what. He was seeing red and nothing else was getting through.

That is, until Tommy shouted, let 'em go, you're scarin' her! Then he let Nick go and twisted around towards you. His brows pitched up with concern when he saw you curled up next to the bed, rocking back and forth. Without even thinking, he took a step forward to help you, but you quickly jutted a hand out.

"Don't come near me."

He froze on the spot, speechless. His heart shattered in his chest at the fear in your eye, fear he put there. He couldn't go back to a life without you, he needed you.

"I'm sorry, baby."

And you flinched. You flinched at the term of endearment and the crack in his chest grew so wide, he was afraid he would fall in.

Tommy's voice broke the tension in the room. "Maybe we should give you two a minute."

Instantly, you were panic stricken. Your eyes widened and you scrambled to pull yourself off the floor. Instead of looking to him for comfort, you were looking at Tommy. Begging his brother not to leave him alone with you.

Joel stepped back and sagged against the wall, his eyes fixed on the ground as he tried his best to come to terms with what was happening. All he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and take you home and it was fucking killing him.

To Tommy's credit, he tried to explain who Joel was, that he wouldn't ever harm you, not in a million years, but your chest heaved and your hands shook with fear anyway.

"Look what he just did! How can you say that?"

"Because he loves you!"

The room grew still while you panted for air and tried to process the information Tommy just gave you.

"Is that true?"

He assumed you must have been talking to him so he nodded, still unwilling to look up.

You began to apologize but the pieces of his heart were drifting further and further apart. He was losing you and he had no idea what to do.

When Nick encouraged Tommy's idea to take you home to your familiar surroundings, Joel finally looked up with a little bit of hope.

"What else can we do?" he asked Nick, knowing full well he sounded too eager and hopeful. Nick began to suggest finding objects or keepsakes with sentimental value that could trigger your memory to return, an idea that gave him a spark of optimism, but when he looked back at you, you immediately looked away.

"Can I talk to you?" you asked Tommy. The two brothers stared at one another, communicating silently. Joel knew what you were going to say, Tommy knew what you were going to say: you didn't want to go home with him. And to make matters somehow worse, you were looking to his own damn brother for comfort and safety.

Safety from him.

The thought had his blood boiling and his teeth grinding, but he knew he had to control his temper or else he would make things infinitely worse.

"I'll be outside," he said gruffly, then stormed down the hall towards the lobby.

He took advantage of the few precious minutes he had to collect his fucking thoughts and think. He couldn't let his anger get the best of him. He needed to get that under control if this was going to work. And he needed to be patient. You were meant to be and he would just have to make sure you realized that again.

He took a deep, steadying breath and closed his eyes.

He could do this. He would do whatever it took for however long it took.

Anythin' that's broken, I can fix it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

wanna shout it from the rooftops

for @steddie-week prompt 'secret relationship'

rated m | 1397 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: secret relationship, established relationship, love confessions, making out, coming out

🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

As soon as Dustin walked out the door, Eddie was backing Steve against the wall, lips on his neck, hands wandering across his arms and sides.

“God, I thought they’d never leave,” Steve gasped, throwing his head back as Eddie’s teeth bit into his collarbone. “Need you so fuckin’ bad, baby.”

“Looked so good in that apron. So unfair I couldn’t get my hands on you when you were making cookies for us,” Eddie groaned against his skin. “Wanna fuck you right here. Open you up on my tongue-“

“Sorry, Steve! Forgot my-“ Dustin’s voice stopped before Eddie could even register that he should pull away. “What the fuck!”

“Language!” Steve yelled as he shoved Eddie away from him, trying to fix his shirt and hair. Not that it would do any good; Dustin just got an eyeful already.

At least they weren’t naked. Yet.

“Please tell me you were fighting,” Dustin sounds distraught, which isn’t fair. He should’ve knocked.

“You spent months making me feel bad for not wanting to hang out with your new best friend and now you’re hoping we’re fighting?” Steve placed his hands on his hips, subtly trying to catch his breath and will his dick back to soft. “What about that looked like fighting to you? How have you not sat through sex ed yet?”

“You were having sex?!” Dustin’s voice cracked. “In the hall?!”

“Of my home!” Steve threw his arms up. “And no we weren’t having sex, but we were getting there.”

Eddie held his hands up, brain finally coming back online enough to intervene before things got out of hand.

“Okay. Dustin, why the hell are you even back?”

“I forgot my notebook.”

“And you decided to storm in here like it’s your house instead of knocking?” Steve was trying to take it easy, but everything was falling apart.

They’d kept their relationship a secret for nearly three months now. Robin didn’t even know.

Now that Dustin saw what he did, everyone would know and everyone would hate them and then Eddie would leave Steve for making everyone hate them and-

“Stevie!” Eddie’s hands were on his cheeks as Steve focused back in on what was going on. His breath was coming in short pants, and if Eddie wasn’t so close to him, he isn’t sure he’d be able to see him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ve gotta breathe for me.”

Breathe for Eddie. He could do that. He did that all the time.

He liked doing what Eddie told him to, he liked the praise that came when he did it, he liked being good. Breathing was easy.

He took a deep breath, then another, relaxing as Eddie smiled back at him encouragingly.

“That’s good, angel. Keep doing that. I’m gonna get Dustin’s notebook, okay?” Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to leave Steve alone, but he didn’t have much of a choice right now.

“Okay.”

Eddie walked away, towards the study that they’d turned into a game room for the kids to hang out in, and Steve immediately felt the panic settle in his chest again.

“Steve?” Dustin asked, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Dustin sounded hurt, looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was worried you’d hate me, or Eddie. That all of you would hate us for…for being different,” Steve looked down at his hands. “Didn’t wanna lose you.”

“But it’s okay if you’re gay, Steve. None of us would care!” Dustin exclaimed. “I just kinda thought you liked girls. Like Nancy.”

“I do. I just also like guys. I love Eddie,” Steve provided, relaxing slightly at Dustin’s words.

“You love him?” Dustin asked.

“You love me?” Eddie asked from the doorway, clutching Dustin’s notebook tight to his chest.

Steve wasn’t used to keeping his crushes and relationships a secret. He was used to holding hands in the movie theater and kissing a girl goodbye at her door. He was used to being able to show how much he loved someone without a filter.

But with Eddie, he’d held back. He had to in some ways, and they agreed it was best not to give anything away around anyone else for a while, but he’d hoped that Eddie saw how much he cared about him when they were alone.

“I do. I thought it was pretty obvious,” Steve stepped closer to Eddie, ignoring Dustin’s presence entirely. “I love you.”

Eddie threw Dustin’s notebook to the side, ignoring the ‘hey!’ that Dustin let out, and pulled Steve into his arms.

“Can’t believe you told Dustin before you told me,” Eddie laughed against his shoulder. “You know he can’t keep a secret.”

“Yeah, well. I love you enough to not care if everyone knows,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, kissing the side of his head and lingering there for longer than he probably should in front of a guest. “Was gonna tell you tomorrow after our date.”

“You mean the super secret plans that you wouldn’t give me any hints about?” Eddie pulled away, searching Steve’s eyes. “Will you tell me them now?”

“Maybe when Dustin leaves.”

Both of them turned to Dustin, who was staring at them with a blank look.

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, snapping his fingers to get his attention.

“I’m gonna go,” Dustin said, still looking lost. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Hey, man,” Eddie let go of Steve to walk towards Dustin. “We good?”

“Yeah! I just thought you guys barely even liked each other and you’re actually in love and having sex and I’m just trying to do the math.”

Steve snorted, but straightened out when Eddie glared at him.

“If you wanna talk about anything, you can stay. You seem kinda…out of it.”

“I’d rather not intrude right now,” Dustin said, gesturing to the way their hair and clothing was still a bit disheveled. “But you are gonna tell everyone soon, right? So I don’t have to keep it a secret?”

Eddie looked over at Steve, smiling when he gave him one nod in agreement.

“Yeah, dude. We’re gonna tell everyone at the next movie night,” Eddie said as he turned back to Dustin.

“Thank god!” He breathed out. “Then I’m leaving so you two can do…whatever it is you do.”

He didn’t wait for them to respond, rushing out the door, nearly forgetting his notebook again.

Eddie laughed as he slammed the door, his head falling onto Steve’s shoulder as they fell against the closest wall. Steve was holding Eddie up, laughing with him at the absurdity of being caught by their favorite, but most likely to tell everyone, kid.

“He’s gonna go tell everyone right now, you know that, right?” Steve gasped out between laughter.

“Oh yeah. We’ll be lucky to have another hour before they’re all showing up here with questions,” Eddie said breathlessly.

He pulled back to look at Steve, both of them flush with sudden relief that it was no longer a secret. He leaned in to kiss him once on the corner of his mouth, smiling when he felt Steve’s lips turn up.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered.

“Even though I made you wait to tell everyone?” Steve sounded unsure suddenly, like maybe Eddie would retract everything.

“You didn’t make me do anything, sweetheart. We both agreed to wait.” Eddie cupped his jaw and kissed him slow, much softer than where they’d left off before being interrupted.

No matter how much he enjoyed taking Steve apart, how much he liked seeing him covered in bite marks and bruises, he liked seeing him melt like this more.

“I love you,” Steve said against his lips, already letting Eddie take more of the weight he didn’t have leaning back against the wall. “Want you. Before they get here. Please.”

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely?” Eddie nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away. “Let’s go to your room this time. Don’t want any more interruptions.”

Steve nodded and led Eddie upstairs.

If the kids showed up in an hour, Eddie would make excuses for why Steve was asleep in bed, field their nosy questions, and ease some of the burden of coming out for Steve. If they didn’t, he’d get to keep showing Steve how much he loved him.

Over and over again. Until the whole world knew.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Emily: “I’m really sorry Vaggie didn’t feel comfortable coming back here. If there’s anything I can do to change that-”

Charlie: “Probably not! It was kinda a sign of her endless love for me that she visited haven again at all!”

Emily: “Oh! Oh that’s nice!!”

Charlie: “Which I NEVER would have asked her to do anyway, if I’d KNOWN the truth about her history up here!”

Emily: “Right. I’m so sorry about that too, by the-”

Charlie: “I mean, I’m not the kind of girl who askes her girlfriend to go spend an afternoon sitting across from the people who ripped off her wings! And her eye! And left her slumped against a dumpster looking half dead!”

Emily: “A… dumpster?”

Charlie: “Making the woman you love relive all that without even rEALIZING it would be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it??”

Emily: “V- very.”

Charlie: “IT HYPOTHETICALLY COULD MAKE SOMEONE FEEL KINDA TERRIBLE AFTERWARDS, DON’T YOU THINK?”

Emily: “I’m sure it did!”

Charlie: “H Y P O T H E T I C A L L Y”

Emily: “Could! I could see that, yes, if it HAD happened, that would’ve been…”

Emily: “…”

Emily: “Are you- um, is she, errr.. doing better now?”

Charlie: “SO much better she’s doing SO great these days!!!!”

IN HELL

Vaggie: (lying face down on the hotel lobby floor) “I promise I won’t stop helping you morons when she dumps me. I won’t let her dream die just because I was dumb enough to think I could be part of it.”

Angel Dust: “That’s nice toots.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.”

Angel Dust: “Not sad or stupidly gay or anythin’.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.”

Cherri Bomb: “Sad? Angie, it’s perfect!” (takes picture) “I’ve been thinking this place could use a new rug…”

Niffty: (stepping on vaggie) “Squishy!”

Husk: “Get the fuck off her.” (at vaggie) “You, get the fuck UP.”

Vaggie: “Why.”

Alastor: “Hmmm, because this is PAINFULLY pathetic to watch, even for me?”

Vaggie: “Guess I’ll be here forever then.”

Angel Dust: “Vag-GAY c’mon, ya girlfirend’s not gonna dump ya. What’s the competition even!?”

Vaggie: “There’s an angel up in heaven who's helping Charlie work towards her life long dreams as we speak, and she's taller than me, got more wings than me, not as stabby as me, and also not a mass murderer or a liar or missing an eye.”

Cherri Bomb: "Hey!"

Vaggie: "No offence to the other one-eyed ladies here, but it's different when you've got a fucked up empty eye socket."

Niffty: (sighs dreamily) "I bet losing it hurt soooo baaaaad..."

Vaggie: "Never telling my girlfriend why I'd actually lost it or how it made me look like the deranged murder angel I was, even while she tried kissing it better for me, ended up hurting way worse."

Angel Dust: “That's a point….”

Angel Dust: “...alright, so Charlie’s PROBABLY not gonna dump ya-”

Niffty: “Oh that’s a weird sound!” (giggling) (bounces on vaggie) “I think she’s dying~”

Husk: “If you fucks kill her, I’m telling her demon princess girlfriend and pouring myself a drink to go with your fucking tormented howls.”

Vaggie: (muffled) “what if she’s my ex-girlfriend”

Husk: “…I’ll pour you a fucking drink and listen to your tormented howls.”

Niffty: “ME TOO I’LL LISTEN TOO!”

Alastor: “Dear one, perhaps if you were NOT standing on her skull and compressing her WRETCHED cries into the floor, we could be hearing them already.”

Niffty: “Whoops~ Heheheeh~”

Cherri Bomb: (recording it) “Damn, that groan’s been going on for ages… Bitch has some lung capacity on her.”

Angel Dust: “Point one for Vag-gay! Probs as good eating out as ya are at HOLDING out on ya girl!!!”

Vaggie: “uuuughhh…uaauuugghhaaaAAAAAAAAAAaaahhhhrrrgh..” (whimpers)

Niffty: “Okay.” (GIGGLES) “NOW she’s dying~” (bounces)

IN HEAVEN

Charlie: “Everything’s totally fine I have NO idea why you’d even ASK!”

Emily: “You’ve spent the entire time up here staring at pictures of Vaggie on your phone?”

Charlie: “I’m allowed to look at my girlfriend!”

Emily: “While crying and sniffling into your sleeve?”

Charlie: (sobbing) (desperately patting down her jacket) “SHE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS WHICH OF MY POCKETS HAS THE HANDKERCHIEF IN IT, OKAY??”

Emily: (smiling) “I think you two are going to be just fine.”

Charlie: (BLOWS NOSE LOUDLY INTO JACKET SLEEVE, which catches on FIRE)

Emily: “…..not your clothes, though. You might need a new set of those.”

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[thatlotuscookie]

Hey hypno! Could you write a My Hero Academia request for Bakugo x Reader? Maybe something where the reader gets hurt during a mission, and Bakugo freaks out because he’s secretly been really protective of them but never admitted his feelings? Thanks in advance! I love your writing already and can’t wait to read what you come up with!

✧･ﾟ: a/n: first ask, yay! I really love this idea! Bakugo trying to hold back his protective feelings is so him. Since you didn’t specify a gender, I’ll make it a gn! reader so everyone can enjoy it. Thanks for the request—can’t wait for you to read it! <3

✧ Title: ✧ Fragile ✧ ✧ Characters: Bakugo Katsuki, Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Angst, Romance ✧ Rating: T (for Teen) ✧ Summary: A mission goes wrong, and you’re severely injured. Bakugo’s reaction exposes feelings he’s kept hidden. ✧ Content Warnings: Injury, blood, mild language, emotional distress ✧ Word Count: 1008 // 5.6k chars

A sharp, searing pain ripped through your side as you stumbled back, clutching your wound. You forced your trembling hand to reach for your comm device. "I... I think I’m hit," you gasped, your voice barely making it through the static.

"Fall back! We’ve got this, don’t push yourself!" Izuku’s concerned voice rang through your earpiece, but it felt distant—everything felt distant. The world around you seemed to dim, your vision blurring as the pain intensified. Your legs gave out beneath you, the ground hard and cold as you collapsed.

Through the haze, you barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps before a familiar figure appeared beside you, kneeling in the dirt. Blonde hair and the unmistakable flash of red eyes came into focus.

"Bakugo?" you whispered, blinking up at him as he loomed over you, his face ashen.

"Shut up," he growled, though his voice wavered. "Don’t talk. Don’t move, idiot. I’m calling for medics." His hands hovered just above your injury, trembling as though he didn’t dare touch you, afraid it would make things worse.

"Bakugo..." you murmured again, feeling the exhaustion wash over you. He looked almost... scared. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

“Why... why the hell did you jump in front of that attack?!” His voice cracked, his usual bite now laced with something deeper. "You could’ve gotten killed, you idiot!" His breath came out ragged, like the thought of losing you was too much for him to bear.

Despite the pain, you managed a weak smile. "Because... that’s what heroes do," you whispered, your words barely audible.

But that only seemed to make him angrier. His eyes flared with something raw—something vulnerable. "I don’t give a damn about that right now!" he snapped, but his voice broke at the end, the bravado slipping just enough for you to notice. "You think I care about that dumb hero crap when it’s you lying here like this?"

His words hung in the air, heavier than any explosion he’d ever created. The weight of them hit you harder than the attack that had taken you down. You stared up at him, heart pounding, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach despite the pain. "Bakugo... what are you—?"

"I couldn’t—" he stopped himself, shaking his head as if he was fighting some internal battle. His hand finally pressed down on your wound, but it was more than just an effort to stop the bleeding. It was desperate, like if he held on tight enough, he could keep you tethered to him. "I’m not gonna lose you. I won’t."

The words were barely a whisper, but they hit you harder than any of his explosions ever had. Your heart clenched as you looked up at him, his face so close, yet the vulnerability in his eyes made him feel miles away.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from the pain but from the overwhelming wave of emotion coursing through you. "Bakugo, I—"

"Don’t say anything," he cut you off, his voice rough, almost pleading. "I’m not good at this. You know I’m not good with feelings, with... with any of this crap. But don’t you dare die on me, got it?" His voice cracked again, and he turned his head, refusing to meet your gaze. "I need you."

Your breath hitched, his words settling in your chest like a spark ready to ignite. You had known Bakugo for a long time, had seen him fight, had seen him angry and fierce, but this? This was something else entirely. This was fear. Fear of losing you.

"Promise me," he said, his voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. "Promise me you’ll stay with me."

You swallowed hard, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your heart was pounding so hard it hurt, but it wasn’t from the injury—it was from him. From the way his hand shook as he pressed it against your side, from the way his eyes, usually so sharp and fiery, were now filled with a raw kind of desperation you had never seen before. "I promise," you whispered, your voice soft but firm.

His shoulders sagged slightly, as though a weight had been lifted, but the tension in his body didn’t ease. He turned his head, yelling for the medics, his voice harsh and commanding. Yet, even as he called for help, his hand never left you, a constant, warm pressure against your side, grounding you, keeping you here with him.

And in that moment, as the chaos of the battle raged on around you, all you could focus on was him. Bakugo Katsuki, the boy who had always been so strong, so determined to push everyone away, now clinging to you like you were his only lifeline.

"I train like hell every day," he muttered, his voice low, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "Not because I wanna be number one... but because I don’t want to lose anyone else."

Your chest tightened as his words sunk in, the full weight of his confession settling over you. He wasn’t just scared of losing you today—he had been scared of losing you all along.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you, idiot," he said, his voice barely a whisper now, filled with a vulnerability that broke your heart and made it soar at the same time.

As the medics finally arrived and began tending to your wound, Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed by your side, his hand still resting over yours, his fiery red eyes never leaving your face.

For the first time, you saw the real Bakugo. Not the explosive, loud-mouthed hero-in-training, but the boy underneath it all—the one who was scared to lose the people he cared about. And your heart ached, not from the injury but from the realization that maybe, just maybe, he had been trying to protect you in his own way all along.

Maybe Bakugo Katsuki wasn’t just made of explosions and fire.

Maybe, deep down, he was fragile, too.

[riverbutghost]

He is much more older than you || 2

(sorry, this is a bit longer than I intended it to be and no more parts are coming, just your imagination ;)) part 1 here || part 3 here!!

You still couldn’t help but think about his words over and over again. It was hurtful, getting scolded from him was always hurtful. But this was something else, he had rejected you.

“Sir,”

You mumbled, and opened the door after he had told you to come in.

You didn’t say a word. You didn’t look at him. What happened to ‘You weren’t going to stop?’ huh?

You didn’t know what to do, God you weren’t that brave either. Your last encounter left something in your heart. A little crack.

You sighed, it was simple. You decided to not say anything if he didn’t, and if he did well, you weren’t sure if you could control your emotions.

“How are you?”

Yeah.

“I’m fine, sir. Have a good day.”

You mumbled and got out. Almost immediately after you left, your chest started tightening. You breathed deeply.

“Hey, long time no see!”

You jumped, all of the folders in your hand dropped to the floor.

“Oh my God, Gaz.”

You exclaimed, and he just laughed. You laughed too after a while, he was back. You started chatting with him, your mind was slowly losing your lieutenant’s words.

-

Simon on the other hand, wasn’t feeling all settled.

“Oh my God, Gaz.”

He heard your voice, slight excitement in it. His eyebrows were furrowed immediately. He felt primal, raging as if someone stole his mate.

As your voice were dying down, he got up and locked his door. He pulled off his mask, and rubbed his temple quite aggressively.

“Fuckin’ hell..”

He sighed. He knew he was denying it, everything. He was denying it, because that was easier. Easier than loving you. He knew it, and he hope you did too.

But this wasn’t enough. He was angry, hungry. He didn’t know what he wanted- no he knew. You.

“Sir..?”

He jumped up, grabbed his mask and put it on after hearing your soft, delicate voice.

“Yeah-yeah. Come in.”

You got in, a smile forming on your face. You were in a lighter mood, he assumed.

“Price told me to drop these off..”

You said, while giving him some of the documents that you were carrying. He sighed and thanked you, your scent making him feel.. yeah.

He cleared his throat, and you looked at him. You blinked a few times under your thick long eyelashes. He gave a breath.

“Gaz is back?”

“Yeah, thank god he is alive. Would you like a coffee, sir?”

His thighs tensed, and he fisted his hand. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.

“Are you okay-?”

He panicked, he didn’t want you to see it.

“Get out.”

There it was. You knew it would be like this if you ket your hopes up.

A disappointed sigh left your mouth as you got out of his room. Simon cursed himself, for making you sad again.

He was going to regret this.

He called your name. Yelled it, actually.

You turned around in shock, body tensing as your eyes connected with his’

“Yeah..?”

You mumbled. Confusion spread over your face.

“I. Fuck, come here.”

“What?”

He sighed and got up, steps coming in a hurry. He backed you up into the door, and you gasped quietly. You looked up at him.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

He calmly but firmly said, making your knees go weak.

“What am I doing to you, sir?”

He slammed his fist next to your head, cursing at the same time. You flinched. You liked it. He was finally caving in.

“You and this fuckin’ filthy little mouth. Beautiful little mouth.”

He looked up, almost trying to gain some control.

“Fuck it. I’m done playing games. Get over to the desk. Come on now, pretty girl.”

Your breathing was unsteady, your heart was pounding. You thighs were dripping.

“You asked for it, now get over to the desk. Let’s see if that’s what you want. This sweet little face is gonna be messed up.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his sleeves up, making you mutter an ‘oh fuck’.

You knees buckled, but he held your waist.

“Now.”

[awkward-walking-potato]

could you write a Logan x reader fic where the reader gets injured during a mission (they’re already passed out due to the amount of blood loss at the time) and Logan carries them to safety to then patch and help them, perchance 👉👈?

think of it like a ‘you scared me, I love you and I can’t lose you’ confession when the reader wakes up (and tries to brush off the fact that they got injured). Thanks Potato ;)

You Scared Me

The sounds of battle echoed in the distance, metal clashing with metal, explosions reverberating in the air. But all Logan could hear was the sound of his own breathing—labored, frantic—as he looked down at your unconscious form lying in a pool of blood. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he knelt beside you, taking in the sight of the deep wound that had knocked you out. The smell of blood was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just the scent that was getting to him. It was the sight of you, limp and pale, so far gone that you hadn’t even been able to cry out for help.

"C'mon, kid," Logan muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth. "You’re stronger than this. You’re gonna be fine."

He scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The heat of your blood seeped into his shirt, making him feel like time was running out. He had to get you back—had to get you patched up before it was too late.

Logan moved as fast as he could without jostling you too much, his heart pounding harder with each step. His mind raced with every worst-case scenario, every thought of what might happen if he didn’t get to you in time. The thought of losing you—it was too much to bear.

He reached the Blackbird, and with swift, practiced movements, set you down on a makeshift med table in the back. His hands trembled as he worked to stop the bleeding, tying off makeshift bandages, pressing down hard to stem the flow. Every second felt like an eternity, his mind swirling with thoughts of how he should’ve protected you better—how he should’ve seen the attack coming.

After what felt like forever, the bleeding slowed. You were stable, for now, but still unconscious. Logan sat beside you, hands stained with your blood, his jaw clenched tightly. He hadn’t felt this kind of fear in a long time, and it shook him to his core.

Hours passed before you stirred, eyes fluttering open. Your head was heavy, and everything felt numb at first. Slowly, your vision cleared, and you found yourself staring at the metal ceiling of the Blackbird. A dull ache throbbed in your side, and you groaned softly.

"You’re awake," Logan’s gruff voice came from beside you.

Turning your head, you found him sitting next to you, his arms crossed but his face etched with concern. His eyes, usually guarded and tough, were soft as they roamed over your face, like he was checking to make sure you were really alright.

"Logan," you whispered, trying to sit up, but your body protested. "What happened?"

He reached out, gently pressing you back down onto the table. "Stay still. You got hurt—bad. Took a hit during the mission, lost a lot of blood."

You blinked, trying to remember. Flashes of the fight came back to you—the enemy, the explosion, the sharp pain in your side—but it was all a blur. "I’m fine," you said, your voice hoarse as you tried to play it off. "Just... a scratch."

"A scratch?" Logan’s voice was sharp, disbelief evident. He shook his head, his expression hardening. "You nearly bled out. Don’t you dare brush this off like it was nothing."

His tone surprised you, and you glanced up at him, seeing the tension in his body, the way his fists clenched and unclenched like he was barely holding himself together. You’d never seen him like this before—so rattled, so... scared.

"Logan," you started softly, but he cut you off.

"You scared me," he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto yours. "You scared the hell outta me, darlin’. I thought I lost you."

The weight of his words hit you, and you were left speechless. Logan—the unshakeable, invulnerable Wolverine—had been afraid for you? You tried to reach for his hand, but your body still felt weak.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, guilt creeping into your voice. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Stop," he growled, softer this time. His hand found yours, holding it tightly. "Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault."

He paused, his jaw working as if he was trying to find the right words. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I can’t lose you. Not like this... not ever."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. "Logan, I—"

"I love you," he said, cutting you off again, his voice raw. "I love you, and I don’t give a damn if you’re tryin’ to be tough or brush it off. You mean too much to me. I can’t—I won’t—lose you."

The confession hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You could see it in his eyes—the fear, the love, the desperation. Logan, the man who never showed weakness, was laying his heart bare for you.

You swallowed hard, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. "I love you too," you whispered, your voice shaky but sincere.

Logan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His grip on your hand tightened, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "You’re not goin’ anywhere, you hear me?" he murmured, his voice a soft growl.

You nodded, your eyes closing as you let yourself lean into him, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. "I hear you."

Logan stayed close, his hand never leaving yours as he watched over you, his heart finally calming now that you were awake. He didn’t say much after that, but his touch—his steady, grounding presence—said everything you needed to hear.

And as the pain faded and exhaustion took over, you let yourself drift off, knowing that Logan would be there to catch you every time.

[abilouwrites]

DONT WAIT FOR THE TIDE

JUST TO DIP BOTH YOUR FEET IN

“You really wanna go on a road-trip?” I ask Buck as he throws a duffel into his Jeep and then more gently tucks my duffel next to his, I look out at the cold greys and harsh blues in the sky. The clouds threaten to launch a downpour any moment, “it’s the middle of December Buck”

“Yeah, yeah it’ll be good for us to get out of town for a while. See the coast. San Fran and Santa Cruz” He rambles, I’ve seen him rushing but he’s never been so eager to kick it before.

“Buck I lived in San Jose, I know all those places. I’ve been there before. What’s this really about?” I inquire as he opens my door and helps me in then proceeds to jump into the drivers side and we speed off.

“I just, everything at work has been so crazy lately and I just need to blow town for a little while. And I thought, why don’t I do that with my favorite lady who knows all the best spots” he reasons brushing through his loose curls as we slow at a traffic light.

“Ok..” I shrug a little; I’ve been with this man long enough to know when to push and when to not, “how’s Eddie doing?” I ask, “losing his wife must’ve been hard” I pick my knee up and place my feet on the dash before Buck swats them down, “I’m in my socks!”

“That is how you break your pelvis and your legs so feet where they go babe” He corrects gently, moves a hand from the wheel to gently caress my thigh. Covered in my Stanford crewneck and leggings with my fuzzy Christmas socks on. I’m a little more comfortable than if I was in jeans and a hoodie.

“Alright alright, but Chris is good?” I ask turning my head as he looks at the GPS.

“Yeah, he misses his mom and Eddie’s shut down a little bit but I think with some therapy he might start coming back.. Athena and Bobby have been helping out with dinners n stuff” he explains, checking over as he merges into the freeway.

“That’s good, god I love those two. Real good people” I nod a little shifting in my seat as Buck continues driving.

“I was thinking, Santa Cruz, we go see your parents, San Fran, then drive back. Skip LA and just head straight to San Diego?” He asks looking over. Just a peeking glance at my expression before he turns his attention back to the road.

“Buck, y’know I love you but it’s gonna be freezing in San fran and Santa Cruz and driving past home Buck what’s up? I’m gettin worried” I peek over at him, seeing a large sigh from his chest.

“I’m scared. To go back. That I’ll get hurt again. Or someone else will get hurt again. I’m starting to think I’m just full of bad luck” He breathes a little looking in the rearview mirror before speeding up slightly.

“Oh” I don’t really have anything to say, no words to comfort him, no piece of advice to say ‘I’d been there, I know how you feel’ because I don’t know how he feels. I don’t know what it’s like to die on the job, or to see my friends face death, “I can’t tell you that I’ve been there and give you advice” I admit, “baby, the best I can do for you is to tell you that I’m here for you. And we have about six hours for you to tell me all about your feelings”

I see a faint smile and he shakes his head, “nah, I don’t need you to be my therapist, but I appreciate it.. more than you know” He tugs at his earlobe and sits back a little.

We sit in silence, I’ve got my AirPods in and watching the view. Bucks hand shifts from the steering wheel to my thigh where he just holds it.

We arrive in Santa Cruz at sunset, the beach is cold and the sand pricks at my toes as I slip my socks off, “come on bucky” I smile a little, it’s been years since I’ve been to this beach. I grasp his hand, he falters slightly before following after me. A quick surge foreword as he drops my hand then lifts me over his shoulder. I gasp slightly and grip onto his shirt, “Evan!”

“You run too slow, y’know I’m trained to run carrying a hell of a lot more than what you weigh” He sasses slightly, lowering me as the waves lick at my feet. It’s a re-assuring smile he gives me as he leans in and kisses me softly.

I smile into the kiss and wrap my arms around his neck. Locking my fingers into the soft blondeish brunette curls, “y’know. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get out of the city until I actually got out” I murmur as he turns and we stand side by side. The waves crashing into my ankles, starting to wet the edges of my leggings. The water starts to soak into Bucks jeans. He holds my hand, stuffing it into his hoodie pocket. I lean against his bicep, his finger rubs against my thumb.

“Good trip then?”

“Definitely”