#sometimes you just gotta cry in the kitchen you know

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 7 - I wanna be in love

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate class.

Word Count: 3.9K ish

TWs: Possessive kink, dollification if you squint, Elvis is a little dominant, praise kink, use of Daddy in a sexual context, fingering, p in v sex, erectile dysfunction, crying, self-esteem issues.

Elvis spends the rest of the week living in Tegan’s apartment, trying to do something to keep it tidy and also trying to cook them both dinner. He burns a lot of things and ends up ordering a lot of deliveries, but she finds the fact that he keeps trying to do things for her that he’s never had to do for himself incredibly endearing. Elvis likes being in the apartment. It’s harder to feel lonely in a place so much smaller than Graceland, and he looks forward to Tegan coming home from work every day. He buys her little gifts to make up for the terrible food and also for the time when he did a load of washing and somehow managed to dye all of her white clothes pale pink. He reads and sometimes he calls Jerry, who he’s been missing lately and who he wants to update on his relationship more than anyone, for some reason. Maybe he’s trying to give the other man hope for the future, as he goes through what sounds like a messy divorce. Elvis empathises, more than he thinks his friend really realises. 

It’s Friday, and Elvis hears the clunk of the door and rushes to greet Tegan.

“Hey baby. Good day at work?” 

He already has his arms around her and is kissing her neck before she’s even got her shoes off. 

She giggles. “Yes, thanks. Tiring, but good.”

“Thought ya were never comin’ home.”

“Sorry, the session dragged on longer than expected.” She looks around the apartment. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning,” he replies, proudly. “Cleaned the kitchen. Mopped the floor.”

She turns her head and puts a hand up to stroke his cheek. “You’re getting to be such a good little house husband, ‘raur,” she teases. 

He growls in her ear, squeezing her and tickling her and making her squeal and laugh at the same time. “Don’tcha go tellin’ anyone about this. I’ve gotta reputation to live up ta.”

“I promise. I’ll tell them you just laze around all day, when you’re not having sex with supermodels.”

He sniggers. “It’s not lazin’, it’s post-coital recovery time.”

“Exactly.”

They look at one another for a moment and then he leans down and kisses her thoroughly.

“Gotcha a gift, baby.” 

Letting her go, he walks over to the kitchen counter, picking up the fancy bag there and handing it to her. 

“Of course you did, it’s a day with a y in it,” she replies. He pouts and plays at looking dejected, and she kisses him again. “I’m teasing. You know I love presents.”

“Presents,” he repeats, mimicking her accent. “Presents for Queenie.”

She puts the bag down and launches herself at him, telling him off for making fun of her whilst poking and tickling him. He laughs, easily fending her off for a while, but the more she tells him to stop taking the piss out of her accent the funnier he finds it, and he ends up giggling helplessly on the sofa, with her on top of him tickling him and making it worse. 

“Please… please… ahhh... I surrender!” 

She laughs and flops down onto his chest, both of them exhausted and breathing heavily. 

“Ya gonna open them?�� He asks, when he’s got his breath back.

She sits up, half on his lap and half on the sofa. “Depends. Are you going to keep taking the piss out of me?”

Elvis bites his lip, sniggering and trying really hard not to make a comment about what she’d just said. “N-no, honey. I uh… I’ll keep quiet.”

“You better.”

He grins as he watches her get up and walk over to the bag. She’s wearing one of her work outfits, a brightly patterned blouse and a form-fitting pencil skirt, and he can’t help wishing that the apartment was wider so that he could watch her walking away from him for a little longer. 

“You looking at my arse, Mr. Presley?” She asks, walking back with the bag now. 

“Guilty as charged, ma’am.”

She snorts, sitting back down next to him and pulling two large boxes out of the bag. They’re both from a fancy clothes boutique, and she opens the first one to a sea of gold material. Finding spaghetti straps she decides it’s probably a dress, and lifts it up by them to get a better look at it. 

“For ya to wear tomorrow,” he says as she stares at it. 

“I thought it was just a casual barbeque?” 

The dress looks like something a disney princess would wear, with an asymmetrical skirt made of layers of gauzy golden material. 

“Yer my Queenie, so ya have to dress like one.” He smiles and kisses her. “Ya want a crown too? I bet I could get Lowell to make ya one.”

She giggles. “I don’t need a crown. Elvis, this is too much. This is something to wear to a fancy dinner, not a barbeque with Lisa and Maria and Sonny.”

He shakes his head. “I said yer wearin’ it, so yer wearin’ it.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she replies, a teasing smile on her lips. 

His hand reaches for the necklace she’s wearing, holding the diamond-encrusted initials between his fingers. “Think ya know I am.”

She blushes, looking down at his fingers around the letters and squeezing her thighs together. He notices immediately and smirks, letting the necklace go and lightly slapping the side of her thigh. 

“C’mon. Open the other one.”

Putting the first box to the side, she pulls the lid off the second one. A gold bikini. She should’ve known. 

“Elvis it’s gorgeous, but…”

His hand, which had been resting on the outside of her thigh, shifts a little and gives her leg another firm slap. 

“Uh-uh. No. Yer wearin’ it under that dress. No arguments.”

She looks up into his bright blue eyes as they stare back at her. He looks deadly serious, but she can’t help pushing him a little. 

“I hope you’re going to be wearing something a bit nicer than this then.” She tugs at the sleeve of his tracksuit top. 

“Oooh woman! Do not test me!” He’s laughing a little at first, as he grabs her and pushes her onto the sofa cushions, rolling himself on top and pinning her beneath him. But then his face changes to complete seriousness. “I will wear whatever I goddamn please, and you will wear whatever I tell ya.” Her heart thumps in her chest and blood rushes in her ears as she stares back at him. 

The seriousness lasts for all of five seconds and then his mouth falls into that cute lopsided grin and his eyes shine with amusement. “I’m kiddin’, darlin’. But I think you’ll look damn good in that bikini and that dress. And I’ll wear somethin’ decent. Got my whole closet at home to choose from.”

She nods, her heart racing.

“You okay, baby?”

She blushes a deeper red and puts a hand over her eyes. “I kind of enjoyed that.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmmm.”

“So you’d like it if I told ya that ya had to wear those clothes? And I want yer nails painted to match?”

She nods, hand still over her eyes. “I kind of enjoyed the way you said it, too.” She bites her lip and cringes a little at her own words. He quite often played with being possessive in bed, telling her that her pussy belonged to him and he could have it whenever he wanted, but this was a bit different. This was something she didn’t know she liked.

Elvis smirks a little at how coy she’s being. He gently takes her hand off her face and gives her a reassuring kiss. Then he shifts so he can push her skirt up, briefly noticing her panties as he pushes them to the side and slides his fingers against her. She definitely had been enjoying it.

“You’re gonna wear what I tell you to,” he hisses, voice low and menacing in her ear. “No more arguments.”

His middle finger slides inside her, curling around and making her cry out. “Oh!”

“You’re gonna wear that goddamn dress tomorrow to the barbeque. I want you ta look good for me.”

His finger pumps in and out of her steadily. She whimpers.

“What’s ‘at?”

“Mmm. Yes. Yes I’m going to wear it.”

“Good girl.”

Tegan can hear her own breath coming out in little pants as she closes her eyes, feeling another finger pushing inside her alongside the first. 

“I don’t like these panties.”

Her eyes spring open again and she looks at him, nervously. “S-sorry,” she mumbles, her head spinning, trying to remember which ones she put on this morning. 

“Get rid of ‘em. I only want ya in matching sets.” His voice is low and even and his face is deadly serious, none of his usual smirking and joking and teasing. He’s enjoying himself though, watching the look on her face and feeling the way her body is reacting to him, her hips bucking into his hand. 

She closes her eyes, half-afraid of his serious expression, half turned on by it. She feels his fingers gripping her cheeks and opens them again. 

“You listenin’ ta me?” His tone is harsh and she nods quickly. 

“Y-yes. I won’t wear them again, I’ll throw them away.”

“Yes, what?” He asks, then presses his lips to her ear. “I know ya wanna call me somethin’, baby,” he murmurs, in an entirely softer tone. 

She’d nearly slipped up a couple of times when they were in bed together, responding “yes, d…Elvis…” and even murmuring “daddy” once, so quietly that he’d almost missed it. Her husband had been a little older, and she’d liked to call him that in bed sometimes. But she wasn’t sure how Elvis would feel about it, especially not after all of the stuff that had been written in the paper about their respective ages. So she’d tried to hold back, sticking to her Welsh pet names for him. But he’d obviously figured it out and now it seems like he wants her to say it. 

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers. 

He growls, pushing her legs back and thrusting his fingers in and out of her harder and faster. She throws her head back and moans. He feels his dick hard in his pants at the same time as she is soaking wet and ready for him, and he doesn’t want to miss his opportunity. They’d fooled around a few more times since the disastrous attempt at Graceland, but she was never quite relaxed or turned on enough and he usually ended up losing his erection mid-way through. 

He hurriedly pulls his sweatpants down along with his boxer shorts, sliding his fingers back out of her as he pumps himself a few times with one hand. Her senses are still reeling, and so she doesn’t realise what’s happening until he starts to push inside her, stretching her so much it hurts a little. 

“Ow. Elvis!”

He looks up quickly, just about managing to pause what he’s doing and praying it doesn’t mean he’s about to lose his erection again. 

“Rub your dick on me, get it wetter.” Tegan knows she’s not really supposed to be telling him what to do right now, but that feels closer to penetration than anything that they’d done before, and she knows he just needs a little more lube. 

He grunts, pulling the tip back out of her and continuing his silent prayers about staying hard. Pulling her panties off and throwing them across the room, he pushes her legs back again and exposes her pussy, groaning at the way it’s glistening with her wetness. They both moan at the sensation of him rubbing himself against her, his foreskin moving back and forth on her puffy clit, desperate for stimulation. 

He huffs out a loud breath. 

“That’s enough,” he says, half to himself but also in an attempt to regain control of the situation. “Yer mine and I wanna fuck you.”

She whines at his words and then at his dick pushing inside her, this time making it past the head, the whole shaft sliding inside until his balls rest against her skin. She’s whimpering at how full she feels, and he just stays there for a moment, as the two of them stare at one another in something like disbelief. 

She props herself up on her elbows so she can look him right in the eye. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy.” 

The sofa is not the easiest place to have sex, and his knees slip every so often as he starts to thrust in and out of her. He grabs hold of the back of it for balance and although it’s deep he starts to worry a bit about falling off. Eventually she flops onto her back and holds her arms out for him, so he lays on top of her, kissing her needily as his hips jut into hers and her legs wrap around his waist. 

“Does it feel good?” He asks, between kisses. 

“Mmm. Yes. Really good. You?”

He nods, breathlessly. “Damn good.” His eyes close in pleasure and he buries his face in her neck. 

He starts to try and speed up his thrusts but the sofa cushions start sliding out, unbalancing both of them. 

“Ah, fuck.”

He pauses and they look at one another, both a little sweaty, their foreheads pressed together. 

“You think we can move to the bedroom?” She asks. 

“Think we’ll have ta try.”

They kiss a little more and then Elvis gets up, slowly pulling out, going back to his silent prayers. They shed their clothes as quickly as they can on their way to the bedroom, until they’re both naked in the bed. Elvis looks down and sighs. 

“Think that was one step too far fer the little guy.”

Tegan bursts out laughing. She finds Elvis’ tendency to talk about his dick like it’s its own person absolutely hilarious. 

“Well you laughin’ at him won’t help any, honey.” He frowns. 

“I’m laughing at you, not your dick.”

“Hmmm.” He tries to look annoyed but he can barely hold in his own amusement. 

“Let’s see if we can, er, perk him up a bit,” she says, wrapping her hand around Little Elvis and starting to work him up and down. “Think he liked it when you were kinda bossy to me, earlier.”

“Mmm.” Elvis’ hand strokes her side. “I think he did too.” He thinks for a moment. She’s naked now, so he can’t really say things about her clothes anymore, and he’s done her outfit for tomorrow. He always liked his girls to have nice hair and nails in the past though, and keep them done for him. Maybe that would work. 

“Don’t think yer keepin’ yerself lookin’ good enough fer me, are ya?” He begins.

Her eyes go wide, wondering what he means. “I-I don’t know. I try to look nice…” she trails off, a little unsure. 

He puts his hand in her hair and pulls it a little. “I want you in the salon every week so yer hair’s lookin’ real pretty for me at the weekend.”

She nods, rushing out a quick, “yes, Daddy,” when he looks stern. She feels him start to get harder in her hand again and pumps a little faster. 

“An’ no chips in yer nails,” he continues. “Can’t have ya goin’ round, lookin’ a mess.”

She can hear herself whimpering again, knowing his words are making her wet even as she worries a little that he does think she’s a mess and she’s not really pretty enough to be on his arm. 

His erection is back so he pulls her hand off his dick, knocking her onto her back and pushing her legs up. Continuing to grip her hand in his, he holds it up so he can examine her fingernails. He shakes his head, giving a low whistle and letting her hand drop back down onto the bed. 

“Ya better get those fixed fer tomorrow.”

He lines himself up and pushes inside her again, this time in one movement, making her groan and her eyes roll back in her head. 

“Ya hear me, little girl?”

She nods quickly. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll get them fixed. Ohhhh.”

He starts to move and now he’s on a mattress and not a sofa he goes hard and fast straight away. Holding onto her thigh with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other he pounds into her. Watching as her breasts bounce with every thrust and loving the feeling of her pussy hugging him tightly, he tries to pay attention to her movements, her breathing, her little tells. Wanting to know when she’s close. 

“Whose pussy is this, baby?” He asks, panting, feeling his own release starting to build as he sees her hands grasping at the bedding and balling into fists. 

“Yours, Daddy,” she moans back. 

“Good girl. Cum for Daddy.”

His thumb rubs her clit more firmly as he carries on his assault on her pussy, his orgasm right at the base of his dick now. As she arches her back she feels him hit somewhere inside her that makes her want to scream, and the combination of that and the way he’s touching her with his thumb is finally enough to trigger waves of pleasure washing over her as she cums. Feeling herself let go completely, the noises that fall from her mouth may as well be screams as her walls squeeze and squeeze and tip Elvis over the edge too, making him cum hard and deep inside her. He cries out in ecstasy, falling on top of her, and the two of them lie there together, dizzy with pleasure.

When he finally feels like he can move again, he rolls off her and pulls her into his arms. She puts an arm and a leg around him too, cuddling up close. 

“That was incredible. Baby, we did it!”

She buries her face in his chest. “I can’t believe it,” she mumbles into his skin. 

“Ya had a good time?” He asks, suddenly worried that her response isn’t quite as enthusiastic as he was expecting. 

“Mmm. Yeah, it was amazing.”

He strokes her back. “But?”

There’s a long pause, where she tries to work out what to say, how to phrase it so she doesn’t sound silly. Eventually she just looks up, shyly, and says, “do you think I look a mess?”

Elvis blinks, wondering why she’s asking, and then realises what he’d said to her earlier.

“Oh, no, honey. I think ya look beautiful, all the time,” he tells her, his hand on her face. “But I do kinda wanna show ya off…” he pauses, looking for her reaction. “I mean, I want people ta be blown away by ya.”

“Hmmmm.” She nibbles on her lower lip and digs her fingers into his chest hair. “So you meant what you said?”

He frowns. She’d definitely said she wanted him to talk like that to her, and now she seemed to be going back on it. “I’d never force ya ta do anythin’ ya didn’t want, honey. You don’t wanna wear that dress tomorrow, that’s up ta you. I was only playin’ coz ya said ya liked it. I don’t wanna upset ya.”

Tegan leans her head back down on his chest and sighs. She doesn’t know what she wants. She definitely enjoyed herself in the heat of the moment but now she’s scared again that he’s pretending she’s pretty. 

“What’s a matter, honey?” Elvis’ voice is low and gentle, and he accompanies the question with patterns traced on her back by his fingertips.

She lets out a long breath that she didn’t realise she’d been holding in. 

“You could be with someone much prettier than me. And… and now especially after…” she swallows and tries to collect herself and not cry. “...you… you’re going to find someone else.” Her shoulders shake and she finds herself crying anyway, the intensity of her orgasm and the feeling of closeness she’d shared with Elvis making her suddenly feel vulnerable and afraid. 

Elvis’ eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Hang on a minute…” he tips her face back up towards him and sees it streaked with tears. “What makes ya think I want anyone else? Ya think I’m gonna do yer laundry, cook yer dinners and mop yer kitchen floor and then go find someone else? Why would I do that?”

Tegan wipes her face a little. “Well let’s be honest now, you didn’t really successfully make much dinner.”

He pulls her up his body so that their foreheads are pressed together again. “I’ve never even tried ta make a woman dinner before you.”

She looks at him for a moment and then starts to cry again. 

“Oh baby,” he wraps both arms around her, holding her close. “What’s wrong?”

“Think you only wanted me because I didn’t care about your dick. And now we’ve had sex you’re just going to leave.”

She tries to roll off him again in embarrassment, but he holds onto her tightly, one hand on the back of her head and the other splayed across her back. 

“Tegan bach,” he begins, firmly. “I wanted you before I knew ya didn’t care about it, and after I knew, and I still want ya now, more than ever. It’s not like ya magically fixed me and now I’m on my way to fuck a bunch of supermodels. We’ve got somethin’ special here. Don’tcha think?”

“Y-yes. That’s why I’m a-afraid to l-lose it,” she sniffs. 

He kisses her gently on the mouth. “I’m sorry I ran away from ya so many times before, an’ fucked this up so many times, an’ ya had to wait fer me ta grow up and realise what I’ve got here. But I’m not goin’ anywhere now. I promise.”

She sniffs again and nods, although she’s still afraid. 

“Let’s dry these tears on this pretty little face, hm? See if ya can gimme a smile.” She moves so he can wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. He kisses the end of her nose, making her smile slightly. 

“I went ta the store earlier,” he pauses for a minute to reflect and then changes his sentence. “Well, that’s not exactly true. Mary went ta the store fer me, an’ I asked her ta get ingredients for cottage pie.”

“Oh did you?” Tegan is smiling a little more now. “And what are you planning on doing with those then?”

“I was plannin’ on makin’ my Queenie dinner.”

“Well that sounds nice.”

She can almost see him thinking, like he desperately wants to ask her to help him, so it doesn’t end up burnt with lumpy mash, but he also really wants to save face. She decides to put him out of his misery.

“Do you want a glamorous assistant?”

He breathes a sigh of relief at her suggestion. “Fuck yes.”

They both giggle together again and Elvis looks at her lovingly. How she could think he’d want anyone else is beyond him, but he thinks he’ll have to keep showing her how much she means to him. He sits up and looks around for his clothes. The first step of that is making her an edible dinner. 

***

Taglist:

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@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss

[cassianandfenrysaremyboyos]

He's so sensitive, I love him so much 😭

[pastel-peach-writes]

Hii, I LOVE UR FICS!! 🫶🫶🫶 so i was wondering what would caitvi do when their S/O was on their period 🤔🤔 (idk if this is PG-13 😭)

Love, anon

Hi! Yes, this is perfectly PG-13. Thanks for requesting!

Shark Week | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Headcanons of CaitVi with a S/O on their period!

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: No Y/n, Not Proofread, No Spoilers(S2)

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– Caitlyn and Vi are understanding when their partner is on their period. The pair gets them too so they know how excruciating periods can be emotionally and physically.

– If you're the person who gets cramps really badly to the point where it makes you nauseated or cry, they're always there to provide for you.

– They give you medicine, home remedies, heating pads, and tons of cuddles if you want them. One of them always has a hand on your abdomen when you cuddle. They think it's comforting to have their hand there and honestly, the touch from them and the warmth from their hand is so you never told them to pull away.

– (Unless you were in so much pain that you didn't want to be touched).

– Vi and Caitlyn get you whatever snack you need when you're on your period.

– Let's say you're a huge fan of chocolate, on and off your period, so the girls get you a small basket of all the chocolate they could find or your favorite just because they know it soothes you.

– Maybe you like spicy food instead on your period. Caitlyn finds that a bit strange since spicy foods typically make cramps worse... but they get you spicy food anyway.

– If you're the type of person who gets really emotional on their period, Vi and Caitlyn understand and try not to rock the boat too much or lend an understanding ear.

– Maybe a commercial with a puppy in it made you burst into tears or maybe the kitchen cabinet didn't close the right way so you exploded into a rage and cussed the cabinet out. Either way, they don't judge and always try to talk you down from your rage or ease you when you're crying.

– Of course, the two of them look at each other in a mix of fear and concern when you get ridiculously angry over inanimate objects, but they keep their comments to themselves. (Or at least wait till you aren't in the room to talk about it).

– When you three are out and about or working and your period comes unexpectedly, somehow, they're always prepared.

– Caitlyn never leaves the house without some period products on her. One time a cute girl needed a pad the day Caitlyn didn't have one in her bag and she's regretted it ever since. So in addition to pads, she keeps tampons and liners in her bag too.

– If you're the one to use a cup, she'll only have a brand-new one still packaged in her bag but only when you guys aren't home for days at a time. Otherwise, you gotta deal with the pads and tampons.

– If you're out and you bleed through, Vi is the first to see (if you don't spot it first) and will guide you to a different room to change. The girl will literally give you the pants off her legs to help you out. She doesn't care.

– Obviously, she can't walk around in public with no pants on, no matter how much you and Caitlyn loved her legs, so you would decide on using her jacket as a coverup instead.

– Around shopping centers or stores, they won't hesitate to buy you a new pair of underwear, pants, and more period products when you bleed through.

– If you're at their workplace, they already have a few extra pair of clothes because sometimes, they bleed through too

– And if you're at home, they'll just tell you kindly if you didn't spot it first.

– If your period stained the sheets, hey it happens sometimes, they'll clean the sheets without a problem.

– Honestly, CaitVi are really understanding about periods and won't ever judge. (Unless you're being a little mean to the sink faucet because it's not getting hot quick enough).

– Another thing they like to do with you is cuddle up with your favorite snacks and what whatever movies you want to see. If you have no movies in mind, then you three would find movies that sound interesting.

– You always fall asleep first if the pain isn't too much to bear. You couldn't help it.

– You were warm, fed, well cared for, and cuddled in the comfort of your bed surrounded by your girlfriends who would do anything to make sure you're happy.

WC: 716

[daenysx]

lovely Hii

Can i get poly!marauders x fem reader where maybe she has been exhausted and busy lately and maybe they’re giving her some space cause they dont know if she wants affection now but she sees them all lovey dovey with eachother all the time and she feels sad cause she wants to join but feels too shy to ask so she tries to discreetly slip back and one of them notices?

Im sorry if that is a bunch of gibberish but i have been awake for over a day now and my brain is fried (i hate uni)

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy <333

(comments are always appreciated and i literally need to see what you think to keep writing, angels. of course i can't force you to send me anything but it would be amazing if you take two seconds to tell me what you think. it's not always easy to keep doing something without getting any feedback about it ♡)

poly!marauders x fem!reader

the relationship between james and remus has always been somewhat chaotic.

they have huge chemistry, maybe something like opposites attract situation. remus is calm when james is bubbling with excitement, remus loves with silent kisses when james loses his breath as he makes love, remus likes rationality when james swims deep in his emotions.

you watch them flirt as they sit on the couch. you're at the table across them in the living room, staring at your laptop screen with exhausted eyes. it probably would be easier to complete what you've been writing if you could have more energy, but sadly you sit all tense and cold at your place. your arms get the chills, you avoid looking at your lovers.

if you leave the table to join them, james and remus would welcome you with open arms. the mere thought of james's lips against your forehead and remus's fingers rubbing your neck makes you want to cry loudly. it's just torturing yourself, but you don't think you're strong enough to ask for love. you need to get this done. you need to think about the classes you gotta pass.

james kisses a line on his boyfriend's cheek, so warm, remus practically loses his mind. "where's sirius?" james asks, remembering sirius leave for the kitchen minutes ago. "is he burning up our kitchen, do you think?"

"we would've notice."

"no, we wouldn't." james whispers. "you're too damn distracting."

remus melts. autumn always brings starvation for touch and loving, two things james is the best at giving. he looks at your way briefly, your droopy eyes worry him.

"she seems so tired." remus says, his lips kiss james's knuckles mindlessly. "should we say something to make her give a break?"

"she said the essay has a deadline, moons." james answers. "i mean, she clearly needs a break, but i'm not sure if we should interrupt her."

it's hard to decide because you get nervous with breaks sometimes. you complain about not controlling the time good enough when you're spending your free minutes with them and being unable to finish stuff at time. you say most of this teasingly, but the boys know there's always some truth in it.

sirius walks into the room with a big mug in his hands. he carries it carefully to your table. james and remus watch the scene, their hands together and legs tangled.

"here it is." sirius puts the mug on the table. "a perfect cup of hot chocolate for my gorgeous girl."

you look at him with the widest eyes. you can't cry. fuck, he's so sweet. he smiles, he looks so handsome with his old t-shirt and messed up hair. you close your laptop, curve your lips to stop yourself from crying.

"this is so nice, siri." you say to him, unshed tears clog your throat. "thank you."

"um- can i get a kiss? i spend fifteen minutes for this."

you nod with a smile, he leans down for you. you only mean to kiss his cheek, but he smells so good and he's so kind- your hand shakes as it touches his shoulder. it doesn't take sirius long to understand what's going on. he manages to hug you before you start crying.

"oh, baby, no-" he says with a sad voice. he attempts to make a joke. "you can't cry for hot chocolate- i'm sure it doesn't even taste that good."

james and remus sit straight with worry. "dove?" remus leaves the couch. "what's wrong?"

"are you okay?"

you nod, they probably won't believe it. you hold onto sirius, he lifts you up from the chair. it's a proper hug now, your skin tingles with the sensation. it feels so good to be touched.

"it's okay." sirius kisses your head. "you're just overwhelmed. you're okay."

you keep your head on sirius's chest. he's warm and his arms are strong, he supports your body to help you stay on your feet. remus brings his hand on your waist, his thumb gently draws a circle.

"can we go to bed?" you ask. separating yourself from sirius is hard, but it's harder to stay vertical. james extends a hand to you, you hold it greedily. they are all thinking the same thing, you'll calm down but you need to feel safe enough with your surroundings to do that. even though they'd like to keep you stuck in their arms, this might not be the best idea.

the bed is cold. it will pass in a few minutes. remus takes you under the blanket, james adjusts the pillows. sirius has a wrinkle between his eyebrows, he gets behind you on bed and wraps his arm around your shoulder. you sniffle softly, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention.

"sorry." you offer, your voice sounds sincerely sorry. "i don't know what came over me."

"i think we should be sorry." remus says. "jamie and i were talking about whether we should tell you to take a break but- we didn't wanna distract you. we should've distract you."

"it's not your fault that i can't manage my time doing stuff i've been doing for years." you say, weakly. "i'm just sick of being tired. i guess i- missed you."

sirius gives you a generous kiss on the side of your head. "you can jump on us any time you want, you know that, gorgeous."

"i think my head doesn't work like that when i'm exhausted."

"it doesn't have to." james says. his voice is like honey. "you don't have to ask for anything. we should be giving you everything before you even have to ask."

"he's right." remus agrees. "it should be like this for all of us, i think."

you nod. your eyes have a grateful look in them, they are undeniably tired, but still pretty to your boys. the bed is warmer. you force yourself to stop counting down the minutes for deadlines. james puts his head on your chest, hugs you as your back touches the bed, his arms are tight around you like you'll run away.

it's good to be touched. it's amazing to have contact with their hands, safe and secure, you can do anything you want if you always feel like this. remus kisses your fingers. his eyes are gentle. they are all so gentle, kind with you, you feel like you'll never break as long as you have them.

sirius's kisses help you fall asleep at the end. he's always bold with his affections, this time he manages to be softer with his lips and more tender with his hands. long fingers in your hair, chapped lips on your skin. he whispers how much he adores you, the tone of his voice hits your mind so well. you are okay. you think you'll be okay, and that's a nice beginning to get things done.

[rafesangelita]

hey sweetie, can i request please [🍪] chocolate chip cookie with rafe cameron and based on the song " hard times" by ethel cain. you know how much i like her (both of you are so talented). you're free with the plot, you can make it angst, fluff, smut, whatever you want with a soft or a dark!rafe. as you please. tysm for considerate it and also congrats on your 5k. so proud of you. and take your time !! so excited <3

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

pairing: dark!dealer!rafe x pogue!sweetheart!reader

summary: ❝i’m tired of you still tied to me, it’s just the way that you are. i’m tired of you, too tired to leave.❞ — the never ending cycle of rafe causing you pain and making you feel better.

warnings: a lot of angst, barry being the mediator, crying, shouting, description of unprotected sex, emotional abuse (?)

word count: 0.5k

a/n: i won’t lie, i hadn’t really given ethel cain a chance but when i was reading the lyrics to base this fic off of- MY HEART. i related to this song so much, it shocked me how i never gave it a try. thank you for participating and sending in this request :( i love you so much!! @nemesyaaa

you were everything rafe wasn’t. sweet, gentle, nurturing, patient. surely you two couldn’t work, right? instead of your differences driving you two apart, it drew you closer like the pieces of a puzzle. you filled his voids while he filled yours. maybe you were too young, but you couldn’t recognize that love, this love, could be bad. you clung onto the remnants of rafe that was good, to you it overshadowed everything else. the rage, the cruelty, the possessiveness, the pain. it was who he was, and you were okay with that.

“why are you cryin’? i told you about that shit already!” you jumped when rafe slammed his fist down on the table, his knuckles already split and bruised. “you’re shouting at me, what do you expect?” you cried more, your pink nails glittering under the light of barry’s dingy trailer. barry cleared his throat awkwardly, flashing you an apologetic look as you rushed to wipe your eyes. rafe ignored your sniffles while he sorted out his product. “do you really ‘gotta make her cry bruh?” barry took a seat after you left the kitchen.

rafe was quiet for a moment, eyes trailing up to look at your curled up form on the worn out couch. he saw the shake in your shoulders, the ruffles of your long skirt disheveled from laying on the thin fabric. you didn’t ask to be here. you didn’t ask for any of this. rafe’s jaw clenched as he handed the scale over to barry. “weight this out, i’ll be right back.” he grumbled, walking over to you. rafe was terrible at comforting people, let alone you who just happened to be the most sensitive person in the world. “hey..” his voice was low as he squatted down.

you took a breath, moving your hair away from your face as rafe turned you around. your skin was flushed, your cheeks hot while your lips swelled from biting on them so hard. “you look pretty.” he wiped a stray tear from your cheek before pressing a kiss to your temple. “you scare me sometimes.” you rasped, tracing his jaw as he picked you up, scooping you in his arms as your head rested on his chest. rafe walked you two down the dark hallway, and entered a bedroom where he laid you down.

you knew what was coming, your hand finding rafe’s as he hiked your skirt up around your hips. rafe knew you wanted intimacy, unfortunately this was the only way he knew how to give it to you. with every thrust of his hips bringing you closer and closer to that peak, you watched his expression morph into one of confliction. like he was sorry for doing this, but also on the edge of pure euphoria himself. you came with a cry of his name, your fingers wrapping around his digits while you felt him empty himself inside of you.

in those few minutes of post orgasm bliss, he held onto you and kissed you like you were the only thing that existed. it was pure heaven. and like always, just when you think you can stay like this forever, he gets up and leaves you naked and vulnerable. “me and barry got some stuff to do. we’ll be back later.” he stroked your cheek before shutting the door. there, in the pitch black darkness, you listened as the engines of rafe and his business partner’s dirt bikes roared to life, the sound fading away as he left you again.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just Keep Breathing

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.

“Finally!”

Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.

“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”

“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.

“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”

At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.

“She’s sick?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.

“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.

“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.

“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”

“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”

“Nooo.”

Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.

“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.

“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.

“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”

“Don’t go,” you begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”

Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.

“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.

“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”

“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”

“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”

The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.

…

Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constricting when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.

“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”

“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.

“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.

“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.

“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.

You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.

“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”

You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.

“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime,” Sam said.

The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.

Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.

“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.

“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”

Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.

“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”

“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”

“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”

“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.

“I don’t ever remember you sick.”

At this, Dean shrugged.

“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”

Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.

“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”

Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.

“Hey…hey!”

You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.

“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.

“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”

“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”

Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.

“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.

Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.

“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.

“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”

“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”

Dean backed off.

“Fine. Call her.”

…

“I can’t heal her.”

“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“Well I can!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”

“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”

“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.

“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”

“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”

“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.

Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”

“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.

“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”

“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”

“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.

“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”

Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.

“Ok. Let’s go.”

…

“Please don’t leave me.”

Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.

“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.

It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.

“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”

“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”

“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”

Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The despair in the room was total.

…

“I’ve got it!”

Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, your body and face twitched in pain periodically.

Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.

“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”

Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.

“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.

“This might just do it,” she said.

“I’m gonna call Dean.”

…

Dean and Cas returned within an hour.

“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.

“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”

Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.

“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.

Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?

Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.

As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.

“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”

“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”

“Sam…De…” you whimpered.

Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.

“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”

“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.

“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.

“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”

“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”

“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”

The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.

“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”

Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.

“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.

“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”

You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.

“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.

“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.

“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.

You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.

“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”

You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.

The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.

…

“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”

“Six minutes,” Castiel said.

“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.

“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”

With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…

The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.

Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.

He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.

He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.

He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[lovegalor333]

can you do a part 3 to safe house please where reader goes back to Allie’s but stays in Paige’s room and they start a relationship?

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

safe house pt 3 (previous part)

summary: loosely based on this request! read previous parts

content warnings: alcohol consumption

You can’t remember the last time you got drunk. While you were with your ex boyfriend, you weren’t allowed to drink or party or have any fun actually but you’re not with him anymore so you can do whatever you want. And that’s why you had a red cup in each hand, one filled with vodka and the other with rum.

You took big gulps from each cup, the harsh bitterness of the alcohol no longer having an effect on you. You didn’t know what time it was, you could have arrived at the party two minutes ago or two hours ago, everything was a blur. It was nice. The constant anxiety that you were so used to living with everyday was slowly dispersing and not just because of the multitude of drinks you had consumed tonight.

You’d been staying at Allies place with her Paige and Jana for almost a month now. Your bruises had faded, you no longer flinched when someone touched you and you slept peacefully every night knowing that you weren’t going to wake up being choked or slapped. OK, not every night, you had nightmares sometimes but you were never alone, the girls held you while you cried every time. Especially Paige, she had a knack for knowing when you needed support and she would wrap her arms around you and rub your back until you could breathe normally again.

Speaking of Paige, you hadn’t seen her in a while, nor Allie or Jana but you just shrugged this off, downing the rest of your drinks, eager to find another. Your steps were staggered and your body swayed as you walked, if you knew any better, you’d stop drinking, go find your friends and make your way home but you didn’t know better. You felt like you had a new sense of life and you wanted to do all the things you missed out on while being in such a toxic relationship and that included getting drunk at frat parties.

You giggled to yourself as you pour more vodka into your cup. Your hand shook and the liquid splashed onto the counter, “Oh shittttt!” Your speech was slurred and slow and you felt dizzy as you spun around looking for paper towels to clean your mess. You couldn’t find any so decided the next best option was your shirt. You stretch the hem of your shirt and used the thin, lacy material to soak up the spilled alcohol. Obviously, this didn’t have the intended effect and you were left with a wet shirt and a bigger mess than before. You cursed under your breath but another sip of alcohol soon had you forgetting about the wet patch and swaying to the music again.

You made your way out of the kitchen, towards the booming speakers, desperate to dance but with your eyes focused on your feet, trying to stay balanced, you didn’t notice as you bumped straight into the chest of a rather large guy.

“Woah there.” He chuckles, hands reaching out to steady you and you allow him to, looking up grinning.

“I’m soooo sorryyyy.” You drawl out and he chuckles again, “It’s OK baby. Gotta watch where you’re going.”

“I just want to dance!” You pout, “Dance with me?” You flutter your lashes at the guy and his eyes rake over you, settling on your chest and you look down to see the top of your bra peaking out of your shirt, your full cleavage on clear display. Using your shirt as a rag had caused it to expose your chest way more than necessary.

“How ‘bout we go to my room? You can dance all you like in there.”

With God knows how much alcohol in your system and lack of better judgment, you slip your hand into his and follow behind him as he leads you through the frat house. He’s walking fast and you can’t keep up, you trip over your own feet, landing on the floor, your knee instantly hurts.

“Owww.” You cry out, clutching your throbbing knee, the entirety of your cup is spilled but you don’t have time to think about any of that because you’re instantly picked by up the guy you just met and you’re on your feet again and he’s leading you to the stairs.

Your steps are slower now because you’re limping but you’re practically being dragged and you feel as though you might fall again but then you feel a grip on your wrist and you’re being dragged in the opposite direction. With your hand still tight in the guys and your wrist being grasped from behind you, you’re being dragged in both directions and you think your arms are going to be ripped off.

“Let her go.” A stern, steady voice says from behind you and you recognise it, “Paigeeeeee!” You cheered as you turned around, coming face to face with the blonde, “I’ve been looking for you!”

“Now you’ve found me. Let’s go.” She says, tugging on your arm.

“Oh noooo I’m OK! We’re going to danceeee.” You reassure and your new buddy does too, “Yeah, I got her.” He says, also tugging on your arm.

“What’s her name?” Paige asks completely deadpan, in fact, she’s full on death glaring and when the guy can’t answer her question, she tugs on you harder until he drops your hand and scurries away.

“You’re no fun.” You sulk, crossing your arms over your body, frowning at Paige.

“And you’re very drunk. And your boobs are out,” She lifts your shirt until your chest is covered again, “and your knee is bleeding. And he definitely did not want to dance.”

“So? I’m si..shingle now.” You fumble over your words.

“Shingle?” Paige laughs and it only makes you frown more, “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know. All too well. Let’s go home.” She says grabbing your hand.

“Oh! I loooveeeee that song! Ten minute version! I walked through the door with you…” You began belting out the lyrics to All Too Well (10 minute version) as Paige guided you out of the frat house and you laughed as you walked through a door as you sang that exact lyric.

“And the air isssss cold.” You laugh again as you step into the street.

“OH YOUR SWEET DIS-DISPO-DISPOSITION!” You continue to perform as you walk hand in hand with Paige.

“What even is disposition? I’m sure yours is sweet whatever it is.” You lean into Paige, suddenly feeling very unsteady and she wraps your arm over her shoulder, her own hooking around your waist and she pretty much carries you all the way home while you butcher the lyrics to Taylor Swift.

By the time you reach the apartment, all your body weight is leant on Paige and she holds you strong and firm as she unlocks the door. You trip and stumble as you walk but she doesn’t let you fall, “Home stretch ma, just a few more steps.” She tells you before you feel the soft surface of a bed beneath you. The covers are fluffy and lilac, “This is your bed.” You say as if she doesn’t know. “Uh huh.” Is all she says as you feel her taking off your shoes.

You lay looking up at Paiges ceiling and you hear her shuffle around her room. Her bed is really comfortable you think to yourself.

Your knee begins to sting and you flinch, “It’s OK. I’m just wiping your knee.” Paiges voice is soft and gentle and she rubs your leg comfortingly. “You’re good at that.” You mumble, “Fixing me up.”

“I got you.”

“Thank you.” You voice is croaky and dry as you sit yourself up to look at your knee and the room spins, “The room is spinning.” You groan, holding a hand to your head.

“I’ll get you some water. Stay there.” Paige instructed and she left you alone in her room. Your wet shirt clung to you in an uncomfortable way and you tussle with it to get it over your head before throwing it on the floor.

“Oh…” Paige clears her throat as she comes back with a bottle of water, “It was wet.” You motion to your discarded shirt, “I’ll get you a clean one.” She says and hands you the bottle of water which you gladly take and gulp down, desperate for hydration.

Paige slips a t-shirt over your head and helps you thread your arms through and you look down, recognising the grey, UConn Basketball shirt you’ve seen her wear so many times, “Suits you.” She remarks and you grin up at her from your place on the edge of her bed, “Thank you, Paige. For everything. All the things you’ve done for me. No one’s ever done that for me before.” You admit as sobriety starts to slip in.

“Of course. I couldn’t just stand back and watch you get hurt.”

You reach out for Paiges hand as she stands in front of you and you hold it tenderly before bringing it to your mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. You look up at Paige through your eyelashes and she’s looking down at you, eyes blue as ever, cheeks slightly flushed, “Can I sleep in here tonight?” You ask timidly and Paige nods, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No. I want to sleep in here…with you…please.” You mutter, hand still linked with Paiges, her calloused palm pressed against yours.

“You’re drunk…” She warns but you shake your head, “I know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Trust me, I do. Just lay with me tonight.” You shuffle back onto Paiges bed, pulling her with you and she doesn’t argue. She kicks her shoes off before laying down beside you, still holding your hand.

“I never knew it was meant to feel like this. So safe and secure.” You ramble on, unable to stop the words from spewing out, “And maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you. Why it’s you who I want when I wake up crying. I don’t know if you meant to do this but you’ve showed me what it’s like to be truly cared for. I think I’m falling for you.”

The air is charged and there’s a long uncomfortable silence as your words hang between you both as you lay side by side.

“Get some sleep. You’ve had a lot to drink and you’re not going to remember anything in the morning.” Paige says, staring at her ceiling.

“I will.” You argue but you listen to her and close your eyes, moving your head to rest on her shoulder as you drift off to sleep, the taste of spirits still strong in your mouth and your heart racing from your drunken confession.

You wake up feeling like your head has been crushed under a hydraulic press. You groan as your eyes flutter open and then you gasp, waking up to Paige underneath you, your head rested on her chest, arm flung over her torso.

“What the fuck?” You mutter under your breath, noticing you’re wearing her top and that her arm is wrapped around you keeping you pressed to her. “Paige!” You hiss nudging her awake and it takes a moment but she begins to stir before slowly peeling her eyes open.

“I bet your head hurts like a motherfucker.” She grumbles, voice husky, thick with tiredness.

“You can say that again.” You squeeze your eyes shut hoping that blocking out the stream of daylight coming through the curtains will ease your pounding head. It doesn’t.

“What happened last night?” You ask apprehensively, pushing yourself up and off of Paige. She stays laying down, staring up at you, her eyes searching yours for a lightbulb moment but it doesn’t come. You have no memory of last night at all.

“You don’t remember?” She asks also pushing herself up so you’re both sitting. She’s still fully dressed and you’re still clad in your skirt from the night before so you know nothing happened between you but the atmosphere is charged like there’s something unspoken just hanging in the air.

“No. Not a thing. Did I embarrass myself?” You ask, cheeks heating at the thought of you doing something you’ll regret.

Paige shakes her head, “No. You were just really drunk. Tried going to a random dudes room so I brought you home.”

“Oh God. Thanks for stopping that.” You place a hand on Paiges knee and she has a reaction that you can’t quite place, “How comes I’m in here?” You ask, referring to her room. You either slept with Allie or on the couch.

“You asked to sleep in here.” She tells you and breaks eye contact, standing from the bed. She was acting weird. Fidgety and awkward. This wasn’t Paige.

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask, guilt starting to slip in. You were used to being blamed for everything so it was only right Paiges mood was caused by you.

“No. No, of course not.” She reassured you but her body language said otherwise, “Then what is it?” You press, starting to feel awkward yourself, sat in her bed, wearing her top.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Obviously not. Can you just tell me?”

“You were drunk-“

“Yeah I got that part.”

“You were drunk and you asked to sleep in here…with me so we layed down together and you said you felt safe and secure. You said you can’t stop thinking about me…” Paige trails off but she doesn’t need to say anything more because everything comes flooding back to you, “I said I think I’m falling for you.” You say, repeating your alcohol induced confession.

Paige nods, “Fuckkk.” You groan, flopping back on her bed, covering your face with your hands, “I’m sorry. I was drunk and I shouldn’t have said that and now I’ve made things weird when you’ve been so good to me.” Your voice is muffled as you keep your hands pressed to your face, not daring to look at Paige.

“You haven’t made things weird. I didn’t know you felt like that. You caught me off guard.” Paige says and you feel the bed dip as she sits on it.

“Off guard in a bad way…or a good way?” You ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Spending the past month with Paige had been confusing and you put it down to the repercussions of such an awful relationship but the more time you spent alone, watching movies, cooking, eating, talking, laughing, crying and actually being treated right, you realised that your feelings for Paige weren’t strictly platonic. You had no plan on telling her that though. To you, Paige saw you as a victim, someone who needed saving and she was kind enough to do that and you had taken that kindness and made it something it wasn’t and you were sure Paige saw you as just a friend.

“Not in a bad way. You’re beautiful and funny and you deserve the best in life but-“

“But I’m damaged goods.” You mutter, you had allowed yourself to be used and abused for a long time and then Paige watched you throw yourself at a random guy last night, you were crazy to think she’d want you.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say,” She turns to look at you and you have your knees tucked up to your chest, back rested against her headboard, “you’ve been through a lot. You’re going through a lot. I didn’t want to take advantage of that.” Paige says softly and you feel yourself melt. She has a way with words that makes your stomach flutter.

“I just want to forget about that. You help me forget about that. But I don’t want to be a charity case.”

“You’re not a charity case. Not to me.”

“What am I, to you?”

Paige stays silent but she moves closer to you, close enough to touch but ahe doesn’t reach out and your skin burns with need.

“You’re someone I care about…deeply. I want to spend all my time with you. I do spend all my time with you. You have something that I just can’t get enough of. I want to show you what it’s like to be loved…for real. Real, wholesome love. If you’ll let me.

Will you let me?”

Your heart is beating in your ears at this point and you’re staring at Paige, eyes soft and yearning and you can’t hold back from touching her any longer so you fling your arms around her, pulling her as close to you as she can get. Her arms find their way around your waist, hugging you back, your face is nestled into her neck, the scent of last nights cologne still strong, “I’ll let you.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: think i might take a break from writing once i get through some requests. my mental health is downnn atm and it’s making me hate everything i write 😕

[medullamindset]

SOME HC'S ABT THIS FUGLY MAN 💗

Uhh no tw's i dont think? Also this is my opinion so if u dont agree w smth.. Ok ^^ idc!! :)

(Also some of these hc's (like 3) are inspired by sunlit6279 on here, their Loris hc's were like the only popular ones when i read them so i injected those into my veins and ran with it yay)

SFW AND NSFW!

• Hes so tall.. Taller than Steb, whom is taller than caitlyn, whom is 6'0 (1'88 cm's) AND wearing heels. I'll say hes around 200 cm's, which is like 6'6.. yeah...

• I feel like hes kinda clingy but not in a "Pissing all by yourself, handsome?" Way but more so that he just follows you around silently and subconsiously, hes always gotta be in the same room as you, no matter what ur doing. Exept maybe pissing.

• adding to that i think he'd love showering together, as previously stated hes like huge so unless ur shower is magic only one of u is getting wet at a time lol.

but hes perfectly fine with shivering in the corner, as long as he gets to just admire you and lather you up himself, he'll gladly wash ur hair for you 💗💗

• But PLEASE RETURN THE FAVOUR OMG. Scratch at his scalp with a fruity shampoo and hes a goner, zooked, in pure bliss, ascending. Sighing contently with his eyes closed.

• saw someone else on here (sunlit6279) mention that he probably has a bit of a kink for scents. As a homeless drinker himself i doubt he smells that nice often, and booze sure as shit doesnt. But then you come into his life, lingering in his nostrils, and he just cant get enough. I feel like its the sweet smells that get him.. Marschmellow, sugary pastries, flowers, wild berries and chocolaty scents, that kinda stuff got him weak.

• He'll nudge his nose right against the pulse point of your neck and just inhale, wherever you are, whatever you're doing. Or your wrist right before kissing your palm tenderly.

• Physical touch and acts of service!! LOVE LOVE LOVES CUDDLING. ANY POSITION. ITS THE BEST TO HIM. please just cradle his head and scratch his hair n beard. Please.

He'll do practically anything you ask him to. Feet hurting? Massage. Need tampons/pads? What size pussy, babes?😽 ur hungry? Sandwich :3 wanna take over the world? Whatever you say beautiful. ☺️

...Want him to cum inside? Oh thank god.. He was close to doing that already..

• Hes def really sensitive when it comes to intimacy, everywhere. Hes a grunter, grunts and heavy pants. In the crook of your neck, behind your shoulder, into your hair, forehead touching forehead, depends on the position. God i want him so bad.

• he a munch. Loves eating you out no matter what ur sex is. He gets so sloppy with it, licking up and down ur hole like a thirsty mutt, shaking his head side to side as you cum, teasing ur nipples with his thick fingers.

Speaking of, have y'all SEEN how big his hands are compared to Vi's? Whom is like an 'average sized' person. His hands would swallow yours whole, hold his pinkie or something its probably easier.

•Hes FIT too, broad shoulders, lean back, biceps and thighs bigger than ur head.. Slutty lil waist. after a nice shower he'll wrap u up burrito style in a towel and carry you bridal style to your bedroom to get dressed (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• On a more domestic note he loves your cooking, even if you kinda suck he still appreciates it so much. And if your great at it hes grabbing seconds.. And thirds.

He would love to help you around in the kitchen aswell, hes a terrible cook himself, but he knows how to chop an onion ok? He'd much rather do it himself than see you cry from it. He knows ur not actually sad, but he doesnt want his babys eyes to sting :((

• Loves petnames so much!!!!!!!! He'll call you things like beautiful/handsome or gorgeous at the end of a sentence. But also uses hun or honey regularily.. Sometimes he will let a 'mama' slip, but not in a weird way. Especially if you have kids already or are pregnant you're his pretty mama, okay? OKAY?.

• i love his SINGULAR mattlock dangling over his forehead. I think its a mattlock anyway, it doesnt look like a regular braid at all.

Lol i just know he'd let u use him as ur personal fidget toy, i'd flick that thing all day, watch it dangle around and smack him in the eye LMAO

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

(HI!! Im probably gonna make a part 2 cuz i most likely have ALOT more to say abt him but uh i just brainfarted so have this 🤲 also hihi my askbox is open so go ahead and yap if u wanna. Fic ideas, headcanons, literally anything. Im probably gonna toot out some Steb hc's aswell cuz i have a few and i need that fishstick bad.)

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Emotions Pt 2 | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18+ ONLY!!!, cunnilingus, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), discussions of grief

Word Count: 3110

A/N: Hi! Trying to work on my requests to give myself a bit of an escape from what’s going on in my personal life right now. I am combining requests I was getting for a part 2 to my Sam x Angel!Reader fic with another request from much later in the queue, so I did have to jump around in the order of my fic requests! I hope that’s okay! 

General Writings Masterlist

Pt 1

If you thought humans were strange and intriguing before, being human was even stranger. Your existence had been predictable before you met Sam Winchester. And now, you were feeling and experiencing multitudes you hadn’t known to be possible. Navigating the full scape of human emotion was incredibly difficult and draining at times. Thoughts you’d never had emotion assigned to would cross your mind at random times of the day. And suddenly, you’d be sniffling and trying to control the tears forming in your eyes. 

Sam had gotten good at navigating these moments with you. He would talk about your feelings with you very openly and share some of his own. 

The first time you realized that Sam would one day die, possibly leaving you on earth alone, you were horrified. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, seeing you trying to hold back tears while staring at the ground. 

“You’re gonna die one day,” you said plainly. 

“Uh, yeah,” he snorted. “Yeah, I am.”

“It’s not funny,” you snapped, eyes flashing to his. 

He shook his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He sat down on the chair across from you. “Just caught me off-guard, ‘s all,” Sam replied. “What brought that on?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… came over me all of a sudden. Does that not scare you?”

He considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“ ‘Cause somebody told me Heaven’s real—” he nudged your knee with his, making you huff out a small laugh— “and maybe I’ll get to see my mom. Actually meet her.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” you asked.

Sam stared at you for a moment. 

“You’re my best friend, Sam. What am I supposed to do if you die first?” you asked, eyes becoming glassy again.

“What you did before me,” he replied simply. “You just gotta keep going.”

“No offense, Sam, but you’ve been a complete mess without Dean.”

“That’s different. He’s my brother,” Sam said. 

Your gaze was soft, but it held intensity. So much so that it made Sam squirm beneath it. 

“What?” he asked. 

“I don’t think it’s different,” you sniffed. “I just think it’s— oh, what’s that word— grief.”

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you. 

“And I think that because you know what you know, you’re convinced that there’s some way to bring him back. And because you can’t do it, you’re not allowing yourself to accept the grief. You’re just… kinda… stuck,” you finished. 

A heavy silence blanketed the air. 

“Y’know, for an angel with zero understanding of human emotion, that was pretty good,” the young man chuckled.

A genuine smile spread across your face.

****

Even with Dean gone, you could see Sam starting to heal. You hoped you played a large part in that. However, you were growing curious as to why you hadn’t heard the angels talking about Castiel retrieving Dean. What were they waiting on?

Ruby hadn’t shown her face, either, much to your surprise. You assumed she could feel that you were here and decided to make herself scarce. A wise choice on her part, if you did say so yourself. 

Sam’s demon blood addiction would sometimes cripple him. On those days where his withdrawals or cravings would get bad, you would sit on the couch or the kitchen floor with his head in your lap and allow him to cry or sleep until the pain subsided. Sometimes, he’d get angry with himself for not being strong enough to push through the affliction on his own, to which you’d remind him that not many humans survive demon blood addiction as well as he had.

“It fucking hurts, (Y/N),” Sam told you, shivering beside you. Sweat beaded at every pore, and his face was flushed. 

You held a wet rag to the back of his neck while he clutched at your knee.

“I know, Sammy—”

“Why didn’t you just let me have it? Maybe I could find Lilith if you’d just—”

You cut him off, trying not to get angry with him. “Sam, no.”

“—But (Y/N)—”

“No.” You pushed yourself off the couch and turned to sit on the ground so that you were eyelevel with him. “I will not let you do that to yourself again. Do you hear me?”

Sam grimaced with watery eyes, but he nodded. 

“I— I can’t watch that happen to you,” you said, tears catching in your throat. It was surprising to find yourself unable to express yourself evenly and coherently as you always had, but your emotion seemed to help you get through to Sam more. 

The other angels had no idea what they were missing. 

***

When you were an angel, you truly didn’t have an internal dialogue. And now, your mind was flooded with constant thought. Occasionally, it was burdensome, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Before, all you had was experience and memory. It was as if you were entirely continuous with your environment, and you took everything around you at surface value. There was no internal reflection. 

“That’s called ‘sonder’,” Sam explained to you. 

“What is?” you asked, temporarily looking away from the river below you. 

You’d discovered a creaky, wooden bridge over a rushing stream on a walk through the forest with Sam. 

“What you just said. Realizing that everybody has their own experiences, and thoughts, and lives entirely separate from yours,” he continued.

You gently kicked your feet back and forth over the edge of the bridge with your arms crossed over the railing in front of you. Sam sat beside you, watching you. “Does it ever get overwhelming?” you asked him, thinking maybe you were the only one feeling so burdened by thought as a result of your new status as a human. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“Feeling. Thinking,” you elaborated, unable to look at him out of fear that he may judge you.

“Yeah, frequently.” He nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “But, uh, certain things make it better.”

That caught your attention, as his tone sounded a bit loaded. “What things?”

He kept his gaze down but nudged your shoulder with his. “Certain angels.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Certain Sam Winchesters make it better for me, too.”

He returned your expression. 

***

The fall months were upon you. The cabin you stayed in with Sam was where you first discovered what “warmth” was as you sat by the fire. Now, though, a different feeling encompassed you. 

It started slowly; ignorable, almost. First, small little bumps formed on your arms while you brought the trash out to the dumpster about a mile away from the cabin. Then, you felt like the wind was blowing through your body. You tried your hardest to ignore the feeling, but soon, it felt like your insides were shaking. 

It freaked you out, to say the least. And when you lifted the lid of the dumpster to put your trash inside, your fingers were blue. In fact, you almost couldn’t feel them at all. 

“What the fuck,” you muttered. 

Afraid of what was happening to you, you began running all the way back to the cabin. When you nearly broke the door down with your entry, Sam jumped to his feet. “Whoa, (Y/N), what the hell?”

You were panting, hunched over, and panicking. “Something— is happening…” you swallowed thickly, “to me.”

Sam rushed over to you, bending down to your level and tucking your hair behind your ear. “What? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. You looked down at your fingertips and realized they weren’t blue anymore. “Wait, where’d it go?”

You and Sam both straightened up, and you continued to search your fingers for the discoloration. 

“Where’d what go?” Sam questioned. 

“My— My fingers were blue just a minute ago,” you explained. 

“Blue?” he repeated.

You nodded. “And my insides were shaking.”

A small smile began to pull at the ends of Sam’s lips. “Did you also have little bumps on your arms?”

Your eyes snapped to his. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re a seraph. You’ve been around for forever, and you got scared of the wind?” Sam asked. 

“The wind didn’t do that to me,” you said pitifully, “it’s never done that before.”

Sam laughed. 

“It’s not funny,” you pouted grouchily. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam continued. “You just got cold, (Y/N).”

You furrowed your brow. 

“Here,” the brunet continued. He opened the door for you, and you walked out of it hesitantly. The first of the Autumn leaves had fallen to the ground and crunched under your feet as you made your way out. 

Sam followed behind, and the two of you stood beside each other silently. You looked up at the trees rustling in the wind, and small wisps of your hair began to lift away from your face. And then, you felt the little bumps forming on your arms again. You looked down, a little less afraid this time. 

“See? Just the wind,” Sam explained. 

Then, a shiver ripped down your spine, and your body began to shake from the feeling. 

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” he said. Once you were, Sam offered you the jacket that was laying on the back of a chair in the kitchen. You wrapped yourself in it while he continued to tend the fire. 

“It’s probably gonna get cooler tonight, too,” he explained, dusting his hands off and standing from the ground. “This room’s the only one with heat in it.” 

Your eyes widened in worry, as your shivering hadn’t stopped even with the jacket wrapped around you. 

Sam chuckled with fondness at your expression. “You can take my bed.”

“But won’t you be cold, too?” you asked through your clattering teeth. 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.” Off your look, he continued. “Seriously. I’m kinda a human furnace.”

“C’mere, then,” you asserted. 

The brunet seemed caught off-guard. 

“Please?” you begged. “I’m still cold.”

Hesitantly, he sat on the couch beside you and opened his arms to you. You shuffled across the couch to where you were curled into his chest between his outstretched legs. Sam relaxed against the arm of the couch and wrapped his strong arms around you.

With a look that almost bordered on pleading, you pulled back from his chest and stared up at him. His eyes seemed to almost search your face before he began to lean down toward you. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned up to press your lips to his. 

Sam immediately groaned at the contact, and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hands explored the curves of your waist. When his hand grazed the underside of your breast, you took in a sharp breath. 

Immediately, Sam broke the kiss. “Is this okay?”

Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your breast. An intense lust clouded his eyes, and Sam pulled your head back toward his while he kneaded your breast in his hand. 

Heat flooded your thighs, and you were a bit overwhelmed by the feeling. Your breath quickened as you allowed Sam to push your shirt up over your head. 

He broke the kiss again only to say, “Bed, now.”

You nodded eagerly, pressing your lips back against his. He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. With you pressed so closely to him, you subconsciously began to grind against him as he carried you over to his bed in the corner of the room. He gently laid you on the bed and pressed his forehead to yours, panting. “You can’t— You can’t do that.”

“What?” you asked timidly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sam shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. But I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you keep doing that.”

Hesitantly, you planted your feet on the bed on either side of his hips and began to grind up into him. 

A challenge in Sam’s eyes, he leaned back down to kiss you with an unrivaled passion. His hands roamed your torso, careful to avoid the band of your sweatpants. Gently, he ran his hands along the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

You nodded feverishly, breath quickening. As soon as he’d gotten it off, Sam began to kiss down your chest while kneading your breasts in his hands. He continued to kiss down your stomach, nipping at the soft flesh every once in a while. When he was eye-level with your clothed pussy, he asked, “Can I take these off?” running his hands over your clothed hips. 

You nodded, but Sam could tell something was wrong. “What is it?” He straightened up. 

“I’ve just never done this before,” you said honestly. 

“It’s okay,” Sam told you. “If you wanna stop, we can stop.”

You quickly shook your head “no.” “Don’t stop, please.”

He chuckled and began to take your sweatpants and underwear down your hips slowly, teasingly. 

“Please, Sam,” you said. “I don’t know what this feeling is, but I need you here.” You took his hand and brought it near your throbbing cunt. 

He took in a sharp breath, almost seeming unable to contain himself. “Can I touch you?” he asked. 

You nodded eagerly, and he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed before dragging his fingers through your folds. You keened while his long, thick fingers circled your clit. He then pulled your thighs toward his face and dove between them, lapping at your clit like a man starved. Your hands flew to his head, and he grabbed them, lacing your fingers together. Sam held your hands on either side of your body, gently stroking them with his thumbs in contrast to the fierceness he was eating you out with. 

“God, Sam!” you cried, grinding your hips into his face. That simply spurred him on more. 

Suddenly, what felt like a knot began to form in your lower stomach. “Wait, Sam,” you said, as the knot began to tighten. 

He pulled away from you, bringing his fingers back to your clit while he crawled over the top of you. “Uh-huh?” he asked. 

You continued to grind down onto his fingers, closing your eyes at the pleasurable feeling. “Something—” you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out, “Something’s happening.”

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s normal.”

You nodded breathlessly. “Okay.” 

Then, he started to insert his middle finger into you, pulling a sharp breath out of you. 

“I know,” he coaxed you. “But I gotta get you ready for me, okay?”

You nodded. 

“Words, (Y/N/N),” he asserted. 

“Okay,” you said shakily. 

Sam inserted one finger, and then, another. He began to move them in and out of you while putting pressure on your clit with the heel of his hand. The feeling was overwhelming, and you tried to close your legs around his hand. However, you were stopped by his body between your legs. 

The feeling continued to build and build, and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore. A string of moans and curses left your mouth. 

“Just let it happen, okay? I’ve got you,” Sam told you. 

You nodded. 

“Words,” he demanded. 

“Yes, god, yes,” you replied. “Don’t stop,” you begged. 

He scissored his fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your core began to throb around his fingers. 

“God, Sam!” you cried out. “Fuck!” 

As your breathing began to slow, he asked, “You okay?” You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smirked lopsidedly. 

You looked down at the bulge in jeans, and you looked up at him wantonly. 

“No, no, this isn’t about me,” he told you. 

“But I wanna make you feel good,” you whined. 

“You already are,” Sam told you. 

You leaned up to pull his face down to yours, kissing him again to convey everything you felt for him in that moment. You helped him out of his jeans, and once he had a condom on, he began to line himself up at your entrance. 

“You sure you want this?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Please, I need it.”

Slowly but surely, he began to push into you. He put his elbows on either side of your head, allowing you to curl your nails into his back with the pressure you were feeling inside of you. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable,” he told you.

You shook your head, bringing your hands to either side of his face and kissing him deeply. Sam used that opportunity of distraction to push himself all the way inside, causing both of you to moan into each other’s mouths. 

Once he’d ensured you adjusted, he began to thrust into you. Sam’s movements were slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch and ridge of his cock. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back in pure euphoria as he began to pick up his pace, bringing both of you closer to your climaxes. 

When you felt the knot beginning to form in your stomach again, you brought your hand to your clit and rubbed circles over it. Sam, having none of it, pushed your hand aside and mimicked the motion himself, allowing you to rake your nails up and down his back. Between the feeling of him thrusting inside of you and the pressure on your clit, the knot inside you snapped. 

With a keening cry, you moved your hips in time with histo ride out your high while Sam rode out his. The two of you breathed heaving breaths, allowing time for both of you to come down.

When the both of you were cleaned up and thoroughly spent, Sam held you against his chest while you drew invisible patterns on his upper chest. 

With a smile tugging on the ends of his lips, Sam asked, “You still cold?”

Taglist for Emotions:

@slutforfictionalcharacterss @criminalmindsiscool @littledebbieinabigworld

Forever tags are open; Series Rewrite taglist is closed!! :) Requests are open!

[steddietogo]

Eddie finds Steve’s green sweatshirt one day after getting surprise dunked in the pool at Casa Harrington by his own sheep. It’s soft and worn like it was once Steve’s favorite thing to wear but now it lays forgotten at the back of his closet.

Eddie doesn’t think much about it, just picks it up and pulls it on. Its just him and Steve in the kitchen when he gets back. The others are arguing about which movie to put on while Steve heated up dinner for all of them like a dutiful housewife. The thought makes him laugh.

Steve turns around at the sound of his voice. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just. You pretend to get mad when the kids call you mom but here you are, being all—” He waves his hands about trying to convey his point but Steve is already distracted.

“That sweatshirt,” Steve has a frown on his face, but it’s not exactly a bad one. Eddie wonders when he learned to read Steve like that.

He gives Steve a twirl. “Do I look good in it?” Steve smiles, doesn’t deny it.

“You know, I fought my first demogorgan in it,”

“Woah,” Eddie looks down at it, feeling something akin to wonder when he smooths his palms over the fabric.

“Yeah,”

“God, Harrington,” Eddie looks up grinning. “You gotta keep a priceless artefact like this safe,” Steve rolls his eyes and goes to pull the pizza out of the oven. He’s still smiling though.

Eddie follows, then plants his butt on the counter so he can see Steve’s face. “Is that why you don’t wear it anymore?”

Steve’s cheeks puff out like a chipmunk when he sighs heavily. Eddie has the sudden urge to pinch them.

“Kinda, at first,” He doesn’t look at Eddie when he speaks. “I don’t even know why I kept it, you know? I kinda just wanted to burn every evidence of that night,”

Eddie nods and goes to gather plates for everyone. He should say it. Steve trusted him enough to share, Eddie should too right? He hasn’t said it out loud. Not to Wayne, not to the upside down scientists approved therapist. But he could tell Steve. Steve gets it. And Eddie so badly wants to talk about it, maybe cry a little. Because out of all the things that had happened, this one really breaks his heart.

Eddie startles when a hand softly presses into the small of his back. “You okay there?” Steve has his head tilted to the side to see Eddie better and this time the frown on his face spells worry.

“I can’t play my guitar,” he blurts out. And the words rush out of him all at once. “I can’t do it, I mean I get nightmares and shit, you know. And sometimes my scars hurt so much at night that I can’t even sleep. But this one really takes the cake, like, I pick her up and my heart starts racing and I can’t breath—” It’s happening again. His chest tightens to the point that he struggles to draw in a breath and his vision blurs out as his eyes fill with tears and— oh god he’s going to die in Steve’s kitchen.

“No, Eddie you’re not going to die, I promise,” says a steady voice firm enough that he almost believes it. Then warm hands pull him into an even warmer body. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, listens to Steve telling him how to breath and slowly, after a long while, the knot starts to loosen and breathing comes easier. Steve doesn’t stop running a soothing hand over his back as Eddie sags into him, suddenly winded. His fists are balled into Steve’s shirt like a scared little kid.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles when he’s gathered enough energy to start feeling embarrassed at how quickly he fell apart.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I swear, happens to the best of us,”

Eddie snorts, “Okay mom,” Steve swats at his arm. Eddie finally pulls away after a while. “Think I really needed that,”

“Hey, if you want, you can come over and trying playing over here?” Steve shrugs. “Maybe a change of location can help, I’ll even hold your hand through it,”

“How am I supposed to play if you’re holding my hand, dummy,” Eddie snarks, hiding his smile behind his hair. “But I’ll think about your offer,” There’s literally nothing to think about, what was he going to say, no? Steve’s answering look tells Eddie he knows too.

And if Eddie leans into Steve when he put his arm around Eddie in the sofa while sharing a blanket, well that’s his business.

[chippedshake]

Ponyboy stands in front of the mirror, fifteen and one month old. His hair is longer than it used to be, and the still-blond tips brush his shoulders.

There are scissors in his hands.

"Glory, he looks different with his hair like that."

Ponyboy squeezes his eyes shut, hands gripping the sink for balance. The metal scissors clang against it.

"It used to look tuff. You and Soda had the coolest-lookin' hair in town."

He tries to imagine himself a year and a month ago. Squared off in the back, long at the front and sides. It looked real tuff.

He'd complained so much when he had to cut it off, making everything impossible for Johnny, and now he can't make himself bring it back to normal?

"Oh, come on, Ponyboy, it'll grow back."

It did. And now he doesn't know what to do with it.

"Oh shoot, it's just hair."

The front door slams open.

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!"

"I never shoulda showed you that," Steve grumbles

"Well, ya did, and now ya gotta deal with it." Ponyboy can hear the grin in Soda's voice.

Loud footsteps go into the kitchen.

"Hey, ain't Pony s'pposed to be home already?"

"Prolly is, just up in his room with a book. Wouldn’t notice a twister a foot away if he was reading."

Steve snorts. "You up for a game of cards?"

"Sure. I gotta go change first though."

"Ya mean you gotta go stick an ace in your shoe?"

"Somethin' like that."

Soda's voice trails away as he makes his way to his room, but Steve's has grown closer and closer, and Ponyboy knows he's going to see him and ask questions that he doesn't want to answer, but he can't move from where his hands still grip the sink, scissors trapped against it.

"Hey, kid." Ponyboy looks up and meets Steve's eyes through the mirror. He's standing in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, whole body tense with discomfort, his face drawn with the same worry that strings through his voice. "You want me to get Soda?"

Ponyboy shakes his head and tries to subtly wipe his eyes. It'd be a new low to cry in front of Steve.

Steve's eyes flicker from Ponyboy's face to the scissors in his hand and his ungreased hair. He grimaces when he notices the tears, like he's not sure what to do with them.

"You know, cutting it off don't mean you'll forget them. You've still got a lotta memories that ain't in your hair. Better ones, too."

Steve's tone is matter-of-fact, but soft, softer than it's ever been. To Ponyboy, at least.

Like how Dally's voice reached a high, pleading tone it'd never reached before when they were speeding down that dirt road.

"I know..." Ponyboy whispers, and Steve leans in to hear him better. "It's just the last thing I got from them."

"That ain't true," Steve says. "You got both of their jackets and that book y'all read in the church. You even got the pictures you drew of them."

"Yeah, I know. It just ain't the same." His voice still won't come out above a whisper, but Steve seems to hear him just fine.

"Shoot, kid, I know that." He steps forward and sits down on the closed toilet seat. "But you can't live your life for them. They're gone. And they ain't comin' back. If you wanna remember 'em the right way, you gotta forget them sometimes."

Ponyboy thinks about the last year. About his bookmark that's been on page 118 for five months because Johnny would never get to read any pages after. About all the movie posters he's seen come and go because it wouldn’t be the same to watch them without Johnny. About the blade that's always in his back pocket that he can't stand to look at. About the time he brawled with Curly and then started crying because Dally had been the one to teach him how to throw a punch.

About how every time he looks in the goddamn mirror, he gets scared by his own reflection and remembers the church.

Maybe Steve's right. Maybe if he wants to start living normally again, he needs to forget them sometimes.

"This just ain't us. It's like being in a Hallowe'en costume we can't get out of."

Johnny might never get out of his costume, but Ponyboy could. And he would do it. For Johnny. Because he wouldn’t want Ponyboy to live as a shell of who he once was.

But when he meets his own eyes in the mirror, he knows he can't bring himself to do it.

"Steve, you ever cut hair before?"

He looks up in surprise, and for a moment Ponyboy's scared he's going to laugh at him. Then he stands up and holds his hand out for the scissors.

"Can't imagine it's harder'n fixin' up a car."

[munsonsfairy]

cowboy cowboy 🍒🥧🤎

ib layout: @beforeimdeceased

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sfw

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who sees you pulled over to the side of the road looking into the hood of your old truck. he sees you standing in front of it with no clue of what is wrong.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who’s voice is sweet and warm like apple pie. his dimples have you giggling like a high school girl.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who refuses to take your money after fixing your truck, but does say, “i think a home cooked meal will do the trick, sweet girl.”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who shows up to your door in white shirt and blue jeans that hug his legs in all the right places. he has a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in newspaper and you swear you could kiss him.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who could instantly melt seeing you in an apron with a floral dress underneath. the porch light shines the color of your eyes just right and he wishes he could stare at them forever.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who blushes when you pull him into a hug giving him a chance to smell your perfume.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who sits at the table and watches you do your things in the kitchen. you’re babbling about your job at the local nursery and he can’t help but admire how animated you get while talking.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who wishes he kissed you that night after dinner, but he promises himself next time.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who talks real slow ‘cause his uncle is in the other sleeping before work.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who takes you driving through the backroads. you’re sitting shotgun with your hair undone in the front seat of his truck.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who lays with you in the back of his chevy truck to look up at the stars. when he looks up, he just stares at you with love and whispers, “the way your eyes shine puts these indiana stars to shame.”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who promises to build you the life you dream of. he probably can’t buy it but he will try his hardest to give you everything you deserve.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who kisses you that night under the stars. it’s passionate and breathless. his rough hands hold you close to him as if he’s scared you’ll disappear.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who’s favorite thing to do after a long day is sit on the porch swing with you cuddled into his chest. he will sometimes smoke a cigarette or sip on some warm honey tea you made. (it’s usually the tea lol).

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who stopped his truck during a tim mcgraw song and dragged you in front of the headlights just to slow dance. your head laid on his chest and it suddenly felt like home.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ nsfw

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who has you pinned down in the back of his truck. his mouth leaves sloppy kisses on your neck while he thrusts deep inside you.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who whimpers when you pull his hair while his tongue laps around your clit. his rough fingers fill up your hole having you cry tears of pleasure.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who makes you rub yourself against his bulge when you give him an attitude. he sits back smoking a cigarette while you cry and leave marks all over him — begging him to have his way with you.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who ties you up in the barn and has his way with you when he needs a break from working. the warm breeze hardens your nipples making eddie lose his mind.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who is the sweetest man ever to your parents only to have you bent over the sink while you’re washing dishes. you see his reflection in the window with his shirt unbuttoned and sweat dripping down his chest.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who wants to make you barefoot and pregnant so always finds a chance to fill you up. loves to watch his cum leak out of your abused pussy then uses two fingers to fuck it back inside. doing this only makes him hard again, “gotta make sure it stays inside sweet girl.”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who watches you from across the ranch. you’re wearing your a cami with your panties — his favorite too. he has his hands on his hips with a smirk on his lips. you’re “watering the flowers,” but he knows damn well what you’re doing. “saw you lookin’ so cute from other there. think i don’t know what what you’re doing?”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who isn’t giving you enough attention so you lay in his truck with nothing on. he hears your whimpering along with your wet pussy being fucked by your dildo. he’ll stand in front of the door and lean in making his muscles more prominent only sending you over the edge. eddie eddie eddie is all he hears. he licks his lips when he sees you cum all around the toy.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who sits you at the edge of the tailgate with your legs wide open for him. your fingers are buried in his head of curls. his hand reaches up for your tits when his tongue flicks your clit. when you try to hide your moans, he squeezes your cheeks open with his rough hand then slaps you. “next time it’ll be harder if you don’t let me hear those pretty noises.”

[ericshoney]

Weight ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Nick, Matt and Chris find out about your eating disorder.

Warnings: possible swearing, eating disorder, anxiety, weight, fear of food, mentions of throwing up, bullying, crying, angst with a fluff ending

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

It started with one word.

Fat.

You ignored it. Knowing how teenagers could be, how judgemental and horrible some could be.

Then it got worse.

Fat. Cow. Bitch. Overweight. Chubby. Ugly. Heavy. Large.

You tried hard to ignore it, but it was too hard. You didn't want to bother your family, so you took matters into your own hands.

Breakfast was easy to miss. You would rush out the door, shouting a quick bye to your parents and brothers if they were home and head to school.

Lunch was also easy to miss on school days, as you just wouldn't buy anything. Only drink water and chat with your friends.

Dinner was the hardest. You would sit at the table, the smell of food you once loved and enjoyed, now made you feel sick and anxious. You would sometimes say you weren't hungry, but knew that wouldn't always work, so you had a back up plan.

Eat and then throw it up.

It would work if only your parents were home. Having the excuse to go to your room after dinner and sneak to your bathroom, throwing all the food up.

When Nick, Matt and Chris were home, it was much harder. They would want to go out and get ice cream, saying they would treat you and get snacks. Something you loved to do, before your disorder developed.

In the back of your mind, you knew you needed help, you knew you had to talk to your family, but you were scared. What if they got mad? Or didn't want anything to do with you? So many thoughts ran through your mind. So you kept it to yourself.

At the moment, the triplets were home in Boston. You were at school as they had gone out to see Nate for a bit, only to come home and see your parents sat at the kitchen island, both with sad expressions on their faces.

"What's going on?" Nick asked first.

"Honestly bud, we don't know." Jimmy answered.

"Please explain." Matt said.

"Your sister has been acting differently and we really don't know what to do anymore." MaryLou mentioned.

"How different?" Chris asked.

"She doesn't seem herself. She also doesn't eat as much as she used to, or stick around after a meal. We thought it could just be her teenage faze, but she's got thinner." Jimmy replied.

"Want us to try and talk to her?" Nick offered.

Their parents nodded, hoping they could get through to you. Nick, Matt and Chris went and sat in your room, waiting for you to get home.

When you arrived home from school, you shouted a hi to your parents and ran to your room, only to see three of your brothers there. You were slightly shocked to see the identical three sat on your bed, wondering what was going on.

"Hey guys." You greeted, placing your bag by your desk and kicking your shoes off.

"Hey kid, we gotta talk." Nick said.

"Okay, what about?" You asked, trying to remain calm.

"Sit down, petal." Matt said.

You sighed and sat on your bed, in between Chris and Matt, as Nick sat on your desk chair. As the three looked at you closely, they could tell you were a lot thinner than the last time they came home.

"We want you to be honest with us, bub." Chris began.

"Are you not eating?" Nick asked.

"I...Yeah." You mumbled.

"Are you skipping meals?" Matt asked.

You looked at the three, their blue eyes filled with worry, which made it harder to lie.

"Yeah." You admitted, looking down at your lap.

"Why?" Chris asked softly.

You sighed and told them everything, to the comments on socials, to the verbal comments in school, to the bullying that happens. How you wanted to not be a burden to them, Justin or your parents. As you confessed, the tears streamed down your face.

"Sweetheart, you were never ever any of those words." Matt said, pulling you into his arms.

"And you're definitely not them now." Chris added.

"I'm scared to gain weight." You admitted.

"We're going to help you, babe. Okay?" Nick said, making you nod.

"You're not in this alone, you have us, kid." Chris added.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"Don't be sorry, petal. It's not your fault. We're not mad, we're so proud you've told us. We understand it's hard but we're going to help you like Nick said. The first step is to tell mum and dad, okay." Matt said gently.

You nodded as your brothers each hugged you. You knew it would be hard but having their love and support would make it easier.

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

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

[mya-jaa5]

My Affection

You were walking into your home per usual, it was a bit late since you hung out with your friends after school, while walking in your mother should’ve had dinner almost ready, your father sitting on the couch watching tv in the living room. A normal day…

Your ex boyfriend Scaramouche, he was the perfect boyfriend at first, always giving you your needs, spending time with you, calling you, you know the stuff you’d want in a relationship, you knew he was loyal…. But he was too possessive, he’s always adjusting his schedule to meet yours, it’s not a problem but sometimes you wonder and ask, he’d always get offended asking why can’t he be around you, he is your boyfriend after all… Then he started getting irritated whenever you wanted to hang out with your friends during lunch or after school. He started to get mad when you interacted with other people, it got to the point he’d get mad at you for talking to your family! Snatching your phone whenever your on a call with someone just to see who your talking too, he was getting disrespectful now…. Always telling you that you only need him, and you shouldn’t spend your time on other people but him, it’s like he expected you to actually keep up with this… He was pushing the relationship fast, too fast to your liking. So you ended it with him, it overwhelmed you.

Scaramouche didn’t take this lightly obviously, first he tried winning you over just with him, he goes up to you talking to you as if you are still together?? He even tried giving you a forehead kiss, but you kept denying him, you know better. gotta stand on business 🙎🏽‍♀️

This makes him mad, why are you being so stubborn? it’s not like he cheated on you, why are you acting like this? You don’t even want his kisses? You even started ignoring him.. how dare you, who do you think you are?

Raging thoughts cloud Scaramouche each time he makes an effort to get you back, only to get nothing. 

He needed to show you he wants you back, he starts following you to convince you to get back together with him, he did it multiple times at school, and he started doing it outside of school! Even when your out with your parents when your alone for a moment he just suddenly comes up to you… it’s like he’s everywhere….

A few days ago you were talking to your friends, Scara walked over and pulled you from your friends conversation, took you to a far away tree behind the school and he started threatening you, telling you if you didn’t get back together with him he’d kill your family, and kidnap you, that he’s tired of playing these “games” with you. All while getting in your face to prove his point.

This was crazy, you pushed him off of you and told him off, telling him you’ll never get back with him and to fuck off.

You walked off angry.

But truthfully, he was furious, outraged even. 

This scared you but you never took him serious , what causes someone to say this…?

You close your front door, went you take off your shoes. When you walk in you instead hear silence, you set you bag down near the hallway and head to the kitchen, you don’t see your mom? Maybe she’s at the store..? Weird… Nothing made, nothing was touched, you walk toward the living room seeing a red splash on the side wall, confused you get to the living room you see your parent dead, slaughtered, massacred, murdered.

You stare wide eye silent for about 30 seconds, then screaming and dropping to the floor crying, you take out your phone to call 911, while trying to check if your parents are okay, getting blood all over your hands and shirt… But you start to feel faint, seeing a purple smoke appear in the room, soon your knocked unconscious….

____

You start to wake up…. “Where am i…?” you think to yourself, you hear water droplets, and slight moving, your in water? warm water… it’s quiet relaxing, slowly you open your eyes… The bathroom is mesmerizing, it’s a blue and white marble wall paper and it has dim lights, much to your liking… Which is weird…

“oh… your finally up..?”

you get startled, scara was bathing with you?

“You smell so nice… i missed you y/n…”

He kissed your neck tenderly while his hands crept up to your boobs massaging both of them, he chuckled feeling your arch a bit.

“Calm down im just washing you…”

“Shut up… don’t touch me!” 

You try to move away but your still weak? You can barely lift up your arm, you can only really stay on scara…

He stops kissing your neck and instead reaches one of his hands for a scrub, taking some coconut scented body wash and gently washing your skin. You frown at this, why is he taking care of you, if only he knew how much he irritated you… Him still slightly caressing you’re other boob…

“This is our first time…. Taking a bath together, i’ve always looked forward to doing this with you.”

Scaramouche confessed, which angered you.

you decide to stay silent, he doesn’t deserve your words or attention.

“That day i threatened you, you left your phone on the bench. You know i think it’s cute you still have my birthday as your password..”

Your surprised…. That means he.. That’s why he threatened you that day…?

Scara chuckles feeling you tense. 

“What i don’t think is cute is that you were texting another guy, really y/n? Did you really think you were gonna to move on? He’ll never be able to handle you.. Why would you ever leave me…”

He continued to wash you though a little rougher and fast… He was clearly getting angry… Your definitely not going to worsted the situation by barking back… Choosing to stay silent you wait for what he’ll say next…

“You weren’t understanding, i’ve did everything for you, i’ve only ever looked out for you, and this is how i get treated? You were supposed to come back with me the first time i asked you, but you so stubborn and let it escalate to this..”

He lets go of the scrub and it floats on top of the water, he grips your waist and turns you around, when you look at him he looks mad, your nervous. 

He brings his hand to your cheek caressing it

“Your staying here for now on, you can’t go out anymore, you have to prove your obedience if you want to live a normal life, to finish school, you know.”

what? you can’t sit here and not say anything.

“G-Get away! You killed my parents! And you think i would-“

“Get over it. Your parents are dead they lived a pathetic life” Scara coldly said.

You sharply inhale, how dare he? He doesn’t understand how much you loved them. Soon you feel your eyes tear up.

Scara rolls his eyes “You’ll get over it”

He looks at you and slightly smirks.

“You know i’ve never seen you cry before… Your eyelashes are pretty long, you cry a lot?”

Its like he’s taunting you. 

“Hey hey it’s a joke don’t cry more… Listen if your worried it not gonna hurt you..”

he got closer to you, sorta sitting in your lap, looking down on you.

“Its been a while since we did anything intimate…”

Really? He’s bringing up being intimate? He clearly doesn’t take you serious. 

“no i’m mourning, don’t rush me”

you heard him make a “tch” sound, instead he placed his head on your shoulder. and wrapped his arms around your waist 

“fine i wont…”

Its silent… 

“i missed you… i missed this”

You wanna make a big sigh, maybe it’ll make him drown you.

Trying to think back how normal your life was before, wondering if you took it for granted, and got this for being selfish or wanting more… Missing your dear parents… Wondering if all those times you spent being mean to them was worth it. You stare at the water lost in thought just wondering what will happen now your in this situation. knowing you can’t escape it. Or Scara…

Moments pass and your pulled out your thoughts as he suddenly gets up, he gets out the tub and puts a towel around his waist.

Its not like he’s not hot, but he’s a bad person, and this is a pretty fucked up situation, anyways you didn’t look at him as he got out, wanting to give him privacy despite him going through your phone while you two weren’t together…

“Be ready for dinner at 12:30, your outfit is picked out already, we’re eating your favorite” 

he saids while washing his face in the sink.

You nod and he takes your answer and leaves the bathroom… You don’t feel as weak anymore, so you get out and dry yourself, what time is it? And why is dinner so late? Whatever, you wonder what type of clothes he got you…

To your surprise it’s fresh new clothes he bought you. Its just a simple matching shirt and shorts, he also got you basic white garments, with a tiny pink ribbon bot in the middle of both the clothing, it’s cute. just to your liking… Which is weird, he knows a lot about you more than yourself… Anyways you brush your teeth wash your face, your ready… you got this for sure, what could go bad ?

___

ermmm end 😝 ? or maybe part 2 👻

i’m good at writing and coming up w good story’s but when it’s like i actually gotta wrote a part2 or sum it just be like what am i gon come up w next, this story is kidna random but lmk if y’all like it 💃🏽 no specific age i’m just going by mine. proofread but not at the same time

also idk what title i should make this 😭?

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hello!! I hope you are doing well! I really love your writing, your ST fics are some of my favorites!

I have a request!

Could you write a fic or blurb of Steve being a savior of sorts to fem! reader at a party? Like maybe someone (say Billy) is hitting too aggressively on her and Steve steps in protectively and offers to take her home after. She thanks him at her door and he says like “If you ever need me, call me. Or if you ever just wanna talk or hang out” something like that!

Bonus points if reader is girly and/or plus sized/chubby!

Thank you!!

First of all, thank you much, I’m blushing! And of course, this is one of my favorite tropes!

Steve Harrington x fem!plus size!reader

I'm imagining this taking place during season three!

cw: Billy being a creep, angst, hurt/comfort

The party was in full swing when you showed up. You honestly didn’t want to be there, but your friends had dragged you only to have left you not long after you got there. So you found yourself on the couch with a solo cup filled with beer that you had only sipped on, debating on whether or not you wanted to get another drink.

You reluctantly got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen where all of the drinks were, fully intending on getting another drink until you saw him. Billy Hargrove had been hitting on you for months and you had been delaying turning him down as you didn't want to upset him.

He wasn't your type and from the things you had heard about him, you really didn't want to get involved with him. You had heard all the girls crying over him in the gym locker room at school and that told you to steer clear of him.

And clearly he hadn't gotten the hint when you avoided him like the plague any chance you got. Billy was too far up his own ass to even think that anyone could possibly dislike him. And he didn't like when people said no to him. So the fact that you had been ignoring him was beginning to really upset him.

Why didn't you like him? Everyone liked him. Well, everyone who was female. Men didn't really like him and he didn't know why. Okay, maybe he knew why, but he was going to pretend that he didn't just to make himself feel better.

"Hey, l/n," he spoke up as he headed towards you as you poured your beer into the sink, delaying turning around just so you had time to come up with an excuse to leave.

"Billy," you responded with as much disdain as you could muster, feeling bile rising in your throat as he got closer to you, his strong cologne wafting into your nose, making you feel even more sick.

"Why haven't you called me, baby? I've missed you." His hands moved to rest on your hips and you tried your best to wriggle out of his grasp, but his grip on you was too strong.

"Let me go," you demanded, but Billy just laughed in response.

"Not so fast. Gotta give me a kiss first." You could smell the alcohol and cigarette smoke on his breath and had to turn away from him so you wouldn't breathe it in.

"As if," you grimaced. "I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last man on earth." You were suddenly so hellbent on telling him how you really felt that you didn't care how he responded. You just wanted to put his fantasy of ever sleeping with you to bed.

"You fucking bitch, I swear to god I'm going to-" Billy was now holding onto your arms, squeezing them so hard that you felt tears pricking your eyes.

"You're going to what, Hargrove?" You heard a voice ask from behind Billy and you leaned to the side to see that it was Steve Harrington. The boy you had been crushing on since you could remember.

Steve had always been nice to you, even in his King Steve days. Whether it was a smile or wave in the school hallway, he always seemed to go out of his way to treat you with kindness even when he hadn't been the nicest.

And when he stopped hanging out with his old friends, he even invited you to sit with him at lunch sometimes. Because the truth was that Steve had thought you were pretty and sweet, but couldn't get himself to ask you out. So, he just settled for the small talk in the hallway or at the lunch table.

He never would have admitted it, but he was devastated when you told him that you were going to a college that was out of state. It seemed, though, that you were back for the summer and he was going to be sure to try to get your number so that he wouldn't lose you again.

"Oh, look, it seems that Scoops Ahoy Steve has come to rescue you," Billy laughed, turning to face the man. "Maybe if you're lucky, y/n, he'll take you on a ride of the ocean of flavor."

"Leave her alone, Billy," Steve commanded, ignoring the comment that came from his mouth.

"Or what?" Billy asked, stepping closer to Steve, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've kicked your ass once and I'm not afraid to do it again," Steve jabbed his finger into Billy's chest. "Now leave y/n alone or it won't end well for you."

"Fine, you can have my sloppy seconds. It's not like she puts out anyway," Billy rolled his eyes then made sure to push past Steve before fleeing the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and muttered a thanks to Steve before hurrying out of the kitchen and he was quick to follow you. There was no way he was letting you get away again. He had let you slip through his fingers one too many times.

"Hey, wait up!" Steve called from behind you and you turned around, trying your best to hide the tears that were streaming down your face, quick to wipe them away with the sleeve of your shirt.

You were now at the front door and Steve made sure to give you some space so you could leave if you wanted to. But you just stayed there, looking up at him with your teary eyes. Without another thought, he reached up and wiped a tear away from your other cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice so soft that you almost couldn't hear him.

"I'm fine," you responded, turning your head to the side, causing his hand to move and he eventually just let it drop to the side.

"I-I can take you home if you'd like," he suggested and you swore that you could have kissed him in that moment. You stared at him, as you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn't know Steve very well, but knew that he was just offering you a ride home and nothing else.

"I'd really like that," you nodded again and turned to open the front door, Steve following behind. He rested his hand on the small of your back as the two of you descended the steps to the front porch just to make sure that you were okay as he led you to his car that you had always so desperately wanted to be in the passenger seat of.

He was quick to open the door for you and you were caught off guard by how much of a gentleman he was, but you supposed you shouldn't have been surprised considering that it fit his personality.

Once the door was closed, you took the time to smooth out your dress and wipe away your tears before touching up your lipgloss as quickly as possible before he could get in on his side of the car. You didn’t care that he was just giving you a ride home nor that he wouldn’t have been able to see you in the darkness of the car. You still wanted to look good.

You were so focused on your appearance that you hadn’t even seen Steve fixing his hair in the side mirror on his side of the car, wanting to go for the effortlessly messy look he always did.

Once he was done, he got into driver’s seat then started up the car before pulling out of the driveway. You watched him fiddle with the dials and couldn’t help but stare at his hand, his fingers specifically. How many times had you fantasized about them being slotted between yours? How many times had you wanted him to take your hand press kisses to it with his soft-looking, pretty, pink lips?

But he never would, thought. Guys like Steve never went for girls like you. You weren’t exactly skinny and you hadn’t even seen him hanging out with anyone who was plus size. Especially not women. It was all a pipe dream, all something that would stay in your head because there was absolutely no way that Steve would ever like you, at least not romantically.

“You good?” He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “How’s the temperature? Is the music okay?”No one had ever taken the time to make sure that you comfortable like that so you were caught off guard to say the least.

“I’m good, thank you. Maybe a little cold.” You brought your hands up to your bare arms to bring some warmth to them and Steve was quick to turn the temperature up before reaching into his backseat and retrieving his denim jacket.

He handed it you and draped it over your shoulders since you knew that your arms wouldn’t fit through the sleeves. The gesture almost made you want to cry all over again. 

Sure, you had friends, but it seemed like no one was ever romantically interested in you. No one had ever loaned you their jacket because you were cold or ever at all period. And here wad the beautiful man doing it just because he wanted to and because he wanted to make sure that you were warm.

You hated that this was going to live in your head forever and to Steve, it was just a Friday night. You were sure he did that for a lot of girls and that you were nothing special to him. Well, not in the way you wanted to be. You want to be his girlfriend, not whatever else you were. Acquaintances, maybe?

But what you didn't know was that he was in fact also going to think about this exact situation for the rest of his life because of how much he had liked you. And he honestly couldn't believe that he had never offered you a ride in his car until right then.

He turned to you and smile to himself, wondering how you hadn't seen it. Who else had he invited to sit with him at lunch that wasn't already in his group? Maybe it was because he had never taken the time to see you outside of school or even to get your number.

You were giving Steve turn by turn directions and he realized that he was turning onto what he assumed was your street which he was upset by since that meant that your time together was coming to a close.

Your house was at the end of the street and you turned to him, trying to hide the disappointment on your face that you were going to have to leave him. And as soon as he put the car in park in your driveway, he hurried to your side of the car and opened the door for you, hold his hand out for you to take.

You took it and he helped you out of the car before leading you to your front door, not letting go of it as he got there. It was soft and warm and he wanted to hold it for the rest of his life, giving it kisses whenever he had the chance.

"Thank you for the ride," you told him as you removed your hand from his to rifle through your purse to find your keys to unlock your door. Maybe if things had happened differently that night, he would have kissed you. Correction, he would have definitely kissed you.

"And thank you for defending me. I don't know what I would have done if-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to think about it anymore. "Just-thank you."

"Of course," Steve nodded, wanting to tack the words "anything for you" onto the end of it but deciding against it since he hadn't wanted to overwhelm you. "If you ever need me, call me. Or if you ever just wanna talk or hang out."

You pulled a notepad and a pen out of your purse and handed it to him, suddenly grateful that you had carried it around all the time even though people had made fun of you. You just liked to doodle, was that so wrong?

"Here, write down your number," you told him and he took both things from you before scribbling down his name and number and gave it back to you. "I'll definitely give you a call," you said once you threw the things back into your purse before doing something that was crazy...well, for you.

"Have a good night, Steve. Thanks for being my hero tonight," you said before resting a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek in a quick kiss.

And with that, you turned to face the door and unlocked it with your key before heading inside, leaving Steve on your porch. He just stood there, his hand pressed to his cheek as he smiled to himself with a dopey grin, hoping, praying that you'd do that again soon.

[lunnybunny12]

Blizo x reader ( He needs a hug)

Materlist

Requests open

Thank you to @gayredheadbitch for your help ☺️

Blitz was aware of the blatant echo of purring that had been filling the Kitchen for what felt like an eternity. Shooting you an accusatory glare "Can you stop staring at me please it's getting a bit weird"

You went beet red. How long have you been staring? "Shit I'm sorry"

"Why were you looking at me like that?"

You scoffed defiantly, like hell you were going to appease that shit-eating grin you knew he had prepared. You wouldn't admit you thought your boss was a scolding hot pile of scrumptious... to put it mildly.

"WHAtttt? Pff. what are you on about Blitz?" you fake laughed, stirring your coffee. "No uh... no. I was thinking about something and I must've zoned out"

"Something or someone?"Blits purred leaning closer to you with the shit-eating grin you were trying to avoid. You knew Blitzo, he was like a cat with a plaything, once it piqued his interest. He wasn't going to let it go.

You turned red again making him laugh.

"STOP! Pulling that face! you know I can't lie to that face!"

"Then don't Lie and I won't have to do the face. So come oooonnn who you thinking about?" he nudged. "Might as well tell me I have nothing else to do today"

You smiled and taped his head with a small spoon.

The pair of you were always like this. You would have a lot on your mind and he would always wanna hear about it. Not because he was bored or wanted to pry but because he cared. He always saw you thinking, it was pretty much your favourite pastime but you had the tendency to spiral. The stuff that would come out of your mouth sometimes would blow his mind.

After a few years he started to do some thinking of his own and he thaught of you as more than just a co-worker and he was sacared to death.

"You gotta tell me or your brain will come out your ears"

"OK, ok. If you wanna know, fine... I was thinking about you"

It was his turn to turn red. "Wha- what me?" he stammered, trying to lean on the countertop and falling. He scrambled back to his feet and could've died in embarrassment.

"Why were you thinking about me?"

Carefully you placed your cup on the side and wrapped him in a hug. You felt him recoil in surprise at first.

He was in shock "W-what are you doing?"

"I'm doing what I've been thinking about doing for a long time. Is there a problem, sir?"

With a shaky sigh, he let his arms slide around your waist. After a second you felt him pull you closer and hold you tighter. You heard him purr.

" You. Are. So. Small" He grinned smugly.

"shut up" you chuffed

"Seriously you're a really good hugger, so small and squishy"

"You are too. very cosy"

"Really? I haven't hugged anyone for a while"

"Well,I'm always around if you need a guineapig"

Blitz let out another shaky sigh. He pulled you closer to his chest with tears in his eyes.

He needed this. You knew he did.

"Thank you." he sniffled.

"Oh, Blitz I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry" you cood, holding his face in your hands.

"Oh my God you're so adorable." he chuckled, to himself wiping his eyes. " This isn't very professional, I know."

The two of you were red as seven hells. Holding one another in a way that made your brain stop thinking for once and allowed him to let his guard down.

"Who cares?" you smiled wiping away a stray tier.

"Blitz?"

"Y-yes?"

"Would it ruin this if I kissed you?"

"Absolutely not!"