#was trying to make. I don’t love staring at coffee mugs and trying to force a hard reboot through my brain so I can say that. welll this is

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

brainfog is so silly what do you MEAN I can’t make sentences

[luveline]

could you write plss write something about JJ’s confession and spencer is with bombshell reader and loves her entirely but she gets extremly scared and insecure??

Your usual confidence is shaken after JJ’s confession, but Spencer is emphatically in love with you. fem, 1.5k

Spencer gives you a rundown after every case. Not just as a colleague who missed it, but as his partner who he loves. This one comes out slowly. Maybe even reluctantly. 

He’s recounting the moment JJ had been forced to tell a secret. “She told me she’s always loved me, but that things are too complicated now.” 

You freeze in total bewilderment, your mug of hot tea swelling over the rim to warm your fingers. Further overwhelmed, you set it down on the coffee table. 

You’re in pyjamas on the couch. Spencer sits in sweatpants on the other end of it, his own cup of tea in hand. He’s watching you carefully. You’d felt generously comfortable only moments ago, riding the high of his continued survival, but now you’re feeling sick.. 

“She told you she loves you?”  

“That she was too scared to tell me before.” 

“And what do you think about that?” 

“I think if I never met you, I would’ve spent half of my life calling after her.” His lips quirk into one of those typical awkward Spencer smiles. “What should I think?” 

“I can't really tell you what to think, Spencer.” 

If he never met you, he’d still want JJ? Or if you weren’t in the way, he’d be with her now? Or what? 

You’ve never been the insecure type, to begin. You met Spencer when you were both rookies trying to establish themselves in the BAU, Spencer as a new member, and you as a hopeful applicant. Each time you liaised, or came around to annoy your good friend Derek Morgan, Spencer would be there, looking cute and lonely as ever. It was easy to become his friend. Easier again to fall in love with him. 

Not easy to convince him you truly wanted to be with him, but you were persistent, and… honestly, you’ve never been in love with someone like you have Spencer. That’s why JJ’s confession sends ice water down your back. 

He lets you steep for a few minutes, but ultimately can’t take the weird silence. 

“Hey,” he says, clear worry in his tone as he puts his own mug on the coffee table and moves to sit beside you, his hand falling onto your knee. “Hey, what’s that face about?” 

“What face?” you ask, schooling your expression. 

“That face.” His head tips to the side. 

“I’m not making a face.” 

“I know you…” he says, a tenderness to him as his hand slips under your leg, his fingers pressing into the softest skin behind your knee. 

“What else did she say?” 

He nods with understanding. “She said she was too scared to say it before, and that things are complicated now, I guess because everything’s changed so much.” 

“She has a family.” 

“Angel, even if she didn’t, you think that would make a difference?” He finds your hand for kissing. “What do you think I said to her? I love you. I told her I love you, she already knew that, but I told her again. I said there’s nothing complicated about it.” 

You stare at him. 

“Nothing complicated about it,” he repeats, pressing your kissed hand to his neck and covering it soundly with his own.  

You’re not expecting the insecurity of it. You and Spencer have never been on surer footing. Every day with him seems to guarantee the next. He just has to look at you and you know he’s your person, but you forgot he could just love somebody else if he wanted to. You forgot he even liked JJ to begin with. This sudden reminder is like having your legs kicked out from under you. 

You panic. 

“I love you,” he says, your hand moving down, pressed with fever to his chest. “More than anyone.” 

“I love you too… I just– I guess I thought JJ was my friend,” you say. 

“She is. She said she needed something that would shock the UnSub… I don’t think she expected anything to change. We just needed to get out of there.” 

He almost died and you’re thinking about JJ. Shit, JJ could’ve died. 

You bow your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, no, for what? For what?” He sandwiches you to his side. “I’m sorry, it’s not fair. It puts you in a bad position. But you don’t have anything to worry about, I love you, and I don’t have any feelings for JJ.” 

You wonder if that’s true. 

You’re being unlike yourself. Embarrassed, you hide your face in his collar and let him hug you gently. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I have no idea what to do right now.” 

Insecurity isn’t your style, but it’s not something that can be helped. You have, through everything, pioneered desperately to put your best foot forward. You wear clothes ordered to fit and then tailored for good measure, you take care of your appearance in a way that others might find objectionable. Who you are outwardly is just as important to you as the inward, which makes this all the worse. You hate being out of control. 

Spencer can make it better, despite his insistence on cluelessness. “You know it could never be anyone else but you, right?” he asks softly. 

“Sorry, I’m just… I’m not angry because she didn’t have a choice, but do you really believe she didn’t mean it? She could’ve made up a hundred different lies.” 

“I think she meant it,” he says, still speaking softly. 

“You understand why that would freak me out, right? If you never met me, you could be with her.” 

“I can’t imagine a universe where we don’t meet,” he says. 

Spencer delivers it with that sincere yet shy honesty that he tends to say many things. Like it’s simple, like he’s aware of how cleanly cut it is, and like he’s worried you won’t agree with him. 

You try not to act so small, straightening your back, and sewing an arm behind his neck and over his shoulder. You’re not feeling a hundred percent just yet, and so you press your forehead to his cheek, his hair kissing your  ear. Spencer drags your leg across his thigh and lets you stew for a little while. 

“I don’t want to be with JJ.” He squeezes you closer, nearly has you in his lap. “Is that what you’re worried about? If I never met you, I wouldn’t want to be with her, because she had no interest in me, or– or maybe she did, but she didn’t show it. I know exactly what it feels like now to be loved without remorse, to– to never be told I’m too much. JJ is one of my best friends in the whole world, but you’re my heart. You’re the only person who’s ever liked me for me, all of me, even when I know it wasn’t easy.” 

“It’s always easy,” you murmur.

“That’s not the only reason I love you, but it’s important. JJ’s smart and she’s beautiful and she’s such a good mom, but she’s not you. She could never be you, and I don’t want anyone that isn’t you.” 

You don’t want him to say cruel things about JJ and you’re glad when he doesn’t, but you definitely need his assurance that he prefers you. Then you feel silly, because it’s your bed he comes home to, your hip he’s caressing as he waxes poetic for you. 

You feel less like he doesn’t love you and more like you’ve made a fool of yourself for even suggesting it. “Am I your best friend?” you ask (childishly, depending on who you ask). 

“You’re my best friend. You’re the best friend. Every day I get to be with you is perfect.” 

“That’s really romantic,” you mumble, nearly not quite kidding as you rub the tip of your nose into his cheek. 

“You bring it out of me.” 

You sigh and wrap your arms around him tightly. “Thanks, Dr. Reid. I think you fixed me.” 

“You’re still making a face.” 

“You almost died today, baby. JJ isn’t the sole thing on my mind.” 

“Almost died is an exaggeration. We almost die all the time.” 

You sniff his hair at your discretion. When he holds you like he’s doing now, you realise you have no need to worry. How can he squeeze your soft sides and chase your nose with his if he doesn’t mean what he says? Spencer’s not like that. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” you say. 

“I don’t think you did. But would you feel better if I say it’s okay? Because it’s okay. I’m sorry for telling you something I knew would upset you, but we don’t–”

“Have secrets, I know.” 

You give him a teeny kiss by his ear. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs pleasantly. 

You press another right on top of the first. Slower, you peel away to stroke his hair. His eyes hold all the proof you need —you’re loved without competition. 

[thesweetestofdreams]

hot chocolate

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (852 words)

warnings: should be none, just a little stress cry/ burnout

a/n: Do I like this? I have no idea. The boys help to comfort you on a late night that has you stressed.

Reaching out to his left, James expects to find your warmth. Instead all he feels are empty sheets. The fuzziness of sleep threatens to pull him back down, but your absence keeps him up. 

He pads through your small apartment doing his best not to wake your boyfriends still sleeping behind him. The small spike of panic he felt at not finding you eases as he finally does. 

You've got your back to him, typing away at your computer at the kitchen table. 

"And I'm the one not allowed to have coffee after six," he says softly once he's closer. You hardly glance at him, still typing. "Love," he says, a hand gently coming to cover yours. "Do you know how late it is?" 

Your heart melts as you finally look at him. He's rubbing sleep from his eyes, knocking his glasses off kilter. He looks warm and soft around the edges. It's enticing but your work's not going to do itself. "I'll come to bed in just a minute, Jamie. I should really finish this." 

He points at the time on your computer, 3:48 blares at you and you realize how much your eyes sting from staring at the screen. "Come on," he says, his grip now a soft tug at your wrist. 

"Just let me finish this paragraph." You're trying to bargain, having the feeling you'll probably lose. 

"It can wait, love." He's looking at you with soft eyes and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. You hear shuffling behind you. Now you're really in for it.

Remus comes into view, his oversized shirt- probably one of James’- askew on his shoulders, followed by a scowling Sirius. “How dare you make us go on a man-hunt at three in the morning.” Sirius crosses his arms trying to look angry, but he still comes up to rest his chin on your shoulder. His nose tickles your cheek, “Let’s go to bed my love.”

Remus walks further into the kitchen of your tiny apartment. You remember the day you moved in, you ate ramen over a cardboard box as a kitchen table. Now as he stands across the table from you Remus reaches over to slowly close your laptop. 

You stop him halfway, and he gives you a knowing look. “I’m really not tired, honestly I won't be able to sleep until I finish this,” you say quickly returning to typing. 

Remus sighs, looking to James for help, but it’s Sirius who comes to his aid. “Well then I guess we’re all staying up,” Sirius says, his chin digging into your shoulder and sleep muddling his words, “but when I wake up with dark circles that’s on you.”

“No go to bed, I won’t be long.” You try to focus on your work, but Sirius worms his arms under yours, wrapping around you. “Siri, please.” Your head is starting to hurt from forcing your eyes to stay open, and the warmth coming off of him only makes the fight harder. 

“What are you doing, Remus?” you ask, hearing the kitchen cabinets open and close. 

“I’m making hot chocolate.” He grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet followed by three more. 

“You don’t have to do that Rem.” Your eyes are still stinging.

“I already opened the packet.” He says it with a finality that tells you, you’ve hardly any choice in the matter.

“I’ll get the marshmallows,” James adds, sounding far too excited for this time of night. 

Before you can stop it your eyes fill with tears, blurring your computer screen. You hide your face in your hands. “Are you okay, love?” Sirius asks, suddenly sounding much more awake. You can’t stop it as much as you want to, your tears flow leaving your boyfriends flustering to help you. 

“Dove.” Remus kneels beside you. “Let’s take a break, yeah? It can wait until tomorrow.” 

You hear the soft click of your computer shutting as you nod. James holds your hand across the table. “You’re all too nice to me,” you say, it comes out half laugh half sob. 

“All that work is scrambling your brain,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulders.

You let Remus pull you to the couch where he brushes stray tears from your cheeks. You melt into his side. He plants soft kisses into your hair. 

James and Sirius come with cups of hot chocolate almost overflowing with marshmallows. The cups are soon abandoned as the rich chocolate threatens to drag you all to sleep right on the spot. 

When you eventually make it to bed through fits of yawns and tired shuffling, you realize you’re finally exactly where you want to be. Sirius falls asleep practically on top of James.

Remus pulls the blanket to your chin. “Too nice,” he laughs quietly to himself. You swat at his arm. As you fall asleep, he listens to the rise and fall of your breath. You deserve all the niceness of the world, and he would make hot chocolate in the middle of every night if it meant you felt even a bit of it.

[driverlando]

Jealous biker lando being over protective of waitress reader 👀

Dangerous Territory ── biker!lando x waitress!reader ✧.*

The diner hums with its usual late-night rhythm. The faint clatter of cutlery, the buzz of conversation, and the smell of frying bacon and coffee fill the air. You’re moving from table to table, a practiced smile on your lips as you top off mugs and serve plates. It’s late, and your shift is dragging, but it’s familiar, comforting in a way. The neon lights from the diner’s sign outside cast a soft glow over the checkered floors, painting everything in a warm, nostalgic light.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Lando in his usual booth, sitting with his back to the wall, one arm slung casually over the back of the seat. He’s always there at the end of your shifts, watching you, not in an overbearing way but in a protective, silent kind of presence. His leather jacket creaks as he leans back, his dark eyes tracking your movements with a kind of lazy interest. The dim lighting throws shadows across his sharp jawline, making him look even more dangerous than usual. He doesn’t need to say much; just his being there is enough to let everyone know you’re not alone.

You try not to focus on him too much, knowing that whenever your eyes meet, something sparks in the air between you. But it’s hard not to notice him, sitting there like a storm waiting to break, his motorcycle parked just outside, ready to whisk you away once you’ve clocked out.

As you move back to the counter, you feel someone’s eyes on you—a different kind of stare. A guy at the counter, someone you haven’t seen before, grins at you as you set a plate of food down in front of him. His smile is too wide, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than you’d like as you bring him his food. “Another burger and chips,” you say politely, sliding the plate in front of him, already moving to step back when he decides to lean in.

“You work here every night, darling?” His words are slurred but sharp enough to make your stomach turn. His eyes rake over you, from your waist up to your face, and the sleazy grin spreading across his lips sends a chill through you.

You force a smile, trying to keep things professional. “Most nights,” you reply curtly, turning away to tend to the next table, but his voice follows you, dripping with entitlement.

“You’re too pretty for a place like this,” he says, louder now, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. “How about you finish up here and I take you somewhere nice, eh? Bet you’ve never been treated right.” His voice greasy, oozing with an unwanted familiarity.

You freeze, fingers tightening around the coffee pot in your hand, trying to keep calm. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say through gritted teeth, praying he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

But, of course, he doesn’t. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly. How about I get your number?” He leans further over the counter, and now you can feel his breath on your skin, the stench of beer making your stomach churn.

You’re about to respond when you feel a shift in the air, a prickle of tension that’s unmistakable. Lando’s watching. And this time, he’s not staying in his booth.

From where you stand, you can see the change in everyone else—the way conversations pause, forks freeze mid-bite, and even the jukebox seems to fade into the background.

Lando’s not rushing. He never does. He walks with purpose, slow and steady, his boots thudding against the tiled floor with a deliberate weight. His leather jacket is half-zipped, the collar up, his eyes locked on the bloke at the counter with a look that could kill.

You’re caught between wanting to stop him and knowing better. Lando’s never been one to start trouble, but he doesn’t shy away from it either, especially not when it comes to you.

The guy at the counter seems blissfully unaware of the impending storm, too caught up in his own delusions of charm. “What d’you say, love? You can do better than this place, yeah?”

Before you can open your mouth, Lando steps up behind you, his chest almost brushing your back as he positions himself between you and the counter. His presence feels like a shield, his hand lightly grazing your waist, a silent gesture that says, I’ve got this.

“You’ve got about three seconds to leave,” Lando says quietly, his voice low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. The kind of tone that promises hell if the bloke doesn’t listen.

The man’s smile falters for the first time, but he tries to laugh it off. “Oi, mate, no need to get all worked up. We’re just having a bit of fun, yeah?” His eyes flick between you and Lando, clearly trying to assess if this is worth pushing.

Lando doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. “I’m not your mate,” he growls, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “And she’s not interested. So, unless you want to be picking up your teeth from the floor, I suggest you leave.”

There’s a pause, thick with tension. Lando’s arm brushes against yours, a small but significant reminder that you’re not alone in this. His fingers twitch slightly, as if resisting the urge to do more, but his presence alone is enough to make the guy back down, finally clocking just how dangerous Lando is. He mutters something under his breath—something about not wanting trouble—and then fumbles to grab his jacket, to throw some money on the counter before practically tripping over his stool in his haste to leave. The bell jingles as it swings shut behind him, and the quiet that follows is almost deafening.

You exhale slowly, the knot in your stomach finally loosening. Lando’s hand lingers on your waist for a moment longer before he turns slightly, looking down at you. His jaw is still tight, his eyes softer now but still flickering with the remnants of protective rage.

“You alright?” His voice is gentler now, his thumb brushing your side.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah, thanks”

Lando’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the intensity melting away now that the guy is gone. His hand moves to your waist, fingers brushing gently over your hip in a way that feels more like a reassurance than anything else. “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with protectiveness. “Bloke’s lucky I didn’t deck him.”

You laugh softly, though there’s a hint of truth in his words that makes you shiver. “You didn’t have to get up, I could’ve handled it.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, but why let you when I’m right here?” he teases lightly, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t deny the flutter in your chest at how easily he steps in when you need him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he says with a grin, tugging you just a little closer before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His hand lingers on your waist as if he can’t bring himself to let go, even as you pull away to get back to work.

As you return to your shift, you can still feel Lando’s eyes on you, that quiet, protective presence watching over you from his booth. And though the diner’s back to its usual buzz, you feel safer, knowing Lando’s never far, ready to step in the moment you need him.

—

read After Hours here

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [8]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. 

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,572

A/N: poor reader. things are not going as well as she’d hoped. we’re honestly in the home stretch, i anticipate another 2-3 chapters before we’ve arrived at our conclusion! (i also have some plans for a short prequel, so stay tuned!) bottom divider by @firefly-graphics

You stare at your husband, open mouthed as he shuts the door behind him. On the tray in his hands is breakfast, and most of all—coffee. Real coffee, swirling gently in the fancy drip . You can’t think of a single thing to say as he moves past you to set the tray down on the table. 

The scent of his cologne makes your knees tremble, it’s so familiar, so him. You haven’t seen Ransom in person in so long it feels like some sort of trick. You look down at his hands as he arranges the plates, looking for the indents left by Lloyd’s signature rings—but there is only his wedding band, sitting on his ring finger. He looks up at you. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sweetheart.” 

Your tongue is sticky in your dry mouth. “I did.” 

Ransom isn’t as good at pretending he’s unaffected—not as good as Lloyd. Brief upset flashes across his features before it’s replaced by determined placidity. It makes the rage simmering in your belly flare up even hotter at the sight of him. You’re angrier at him than you are at Lloyd. It isn’t logical, you know, to feel somehow more betrayed by your husband than his twin, but you do. You suppose Lloyd owed you less than the man with whom you had shared every hope, every dream for your future. 

“Let’s eat something, at least,” he replies at last. “You can hate me on a full stomach.” Reluctantly, you sit down at the table. You wonder if all your meals will be taken like this now, now that contact has been re-established, like some sort of strange exposure therapy. Ransom pours himself a mug of dark coffee and then a matching one for you. You don’t reach for it, though, not until you see him drink from his own cup. 

The plate before you is loaded up with fresh fruits—your favorites: cut grapes, melons, slices of kiwi—and beneath that is a fully loaded waffle, topped with fluffy whipped cream. You spear a forkful of eggs and chew as you stare pointedly at the mug in front of you instead of at him. 

Ransom isn’t like Lloyd, he doesn’t force conversation. He simply sits there across from you, eating breakfast in your prison like it’s the most ordinary thing in the entire world. 

“How could you do this?” You vomit up the question as you tremble, unable to swallow another bite. “How?” 

“We love you so much,” he begins, and you have to resist the urge to throw the plate at his head, food and all. “So fucking much.” Ransom reaches across the table to grasp your hand. “This is the only way this works, Sweetheart.” He lifts his hand to your cheek. You hate that his reassurance feels good, that you’re tempted to press your face into the palm of his hand the way you used to. A sob tears free from your throat. 

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t—”

“Do you even know what love is?” There is a cold edge to Ransom’s voice that’s unfamiliar to you, not because you haven’t heard it before, but because he never adopts that tone with you—never. “Love is doing for others what they cannot do for themselves.” You almost want to cringe away from his gaze. “You taught me that.” As his words increase in intensity you actually try to, only to have Ransom grip your chin with his free hand.“Even if it hurts.”

He sits back in his chair, and sips his coffee. “Now finish your breakfast, Sweetheart. I have a surprise.” The word surprise immediately gets your hackles up, and you can feel your stomach churning. 

“A surprise? What is it?” Ransom winks at you. 

“Eat up.” 

You force your way through the fruit—it’s sweet and ripe but it tastes like mush now as you anxiously chew and swallow. Ransom had always been a good gift-giver. It’s one of the things you’d valued about your husband, his attention to detail, his heart. That little piece of him he’d let you see, the part of him he guarded, held like a wounded bird in his cupped hands. The part of him that memorized your birthday three months in and threw a half-birthday party because he couldn’t wait that long to give you the present he’d gotten for you—a trip to Paris, to see the Louvre. Which one of these people is your husband, you wonder, watching him watch you. Which one of them is real, which is created? 

Or had you ever really known him at all?

When you’re done eating, Ransom hands you a little plastic baggie, containing an assortment of pills. A few you recognize—your pre-natal vitamins, one of your prescribed supplements—but there are some you don’t. You glare down at his offered hand with narrowed eyes before crossing your arms. 

“I’m not taking those.” You’re expecting Ransom to fight you—hell, you’re half expecting him to pin you down and force them down your throat. But he doesn’t. All he does is purse his lips, and place them down on the table. 

“We’ll revisit that.”

“We’re not revisiting anything!” You hiss. “I am not. Taking those.” Ransom steeples his fingers beneath his chin and raises an eyebrow. 

“You had no problem taking them when you couldn’t see them, Sweetheart.” Your stomach rolls. “It was my suggestion,” he sighs, fingering the little packet. “I thought you would appreciate the agency.”

“You’re still drugging me.” 

“Sweetheart they’re not roofies.” His flippancy somehow makes you angrier. “It’s all the things you were taking—perhaps a little altered for your condition, but nothing untoward. Your Celexa for your anxiety. Prenatal supplements, vitamins.” 

“I’m not taking them.” 

“Fine.” He picks the little baggie back up and places it in his pocket. Instead of tacit, clever threats like Lloyd, Ransom simply gets up. You look up at him in surprise, almost forgetting to be angry. 

“Y-you’re not going to force me?” You ask, shocked. Your husband pushes his chair back against the table. He looks sad. Really sad, like he recognizes the weight of what has changed between you. 

“No, baby. I’m not.” He turns towards the door. “But I’m not going to stay, either.” Your eyes go wide with fear.

“W-wait, why? I—”

“You’re upset. I understand, I do.” For his part, Ransom looks realistically disappointed, like he wanted things to turn out differently than they have. A sad smile flits across his face. “But baby if we’re going to build back what we had, build it stronger, you’re going to have to think about more than just yourself.”

You feel a pang of hurt in your chest at his accusation. “I’m not selfish! If any

thing—”

“Threatening to leave me? To take the baby?” Ransom shoots you a cold, disappointed look. “What did you tell me, Sweetheart? The baby will never know my name? What would you call that if not selfish?” You swallow thickly. 

That day feels so long ago now, though in truth you suppose it’s been nearly a month since you’d figured it out and everything had broken open and fallen all to pieces. It’s strange to think that that was reality in the same way that this is—that your physical body no longer occupies a world that exists only in your memories, when everything was perfect. 

“I’m going to give you some time to relax. Maybe It’s too soon.” Ransom shakes his head. “I’ll be back when you’re ready.” Your chest feels tight at his declaration. Alone? Again? You curl your fists into tight balls beneath the table, nails digging into your palms. 

“Don’t.” 

“Oh? And why should I stay? You hate me, you won’t take your medicine—”

“I’ll take it.” You mumble, and Ransom turns back around, a soft, surprised look on his face. You don’t want to go back to being alone, back to the endless hours of silence, your food delivered while you slept or bathed, to reciting movie lines just to have something to listen to—

“What?”

“I—I’ll take them. Please—you don’t…” You close your eyes.. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in here alone, day after day.”  It’s torture. The words hang unspoken from the tails of the ones you’re brave enough to voice. Tears press against your closed lids as you try unsuccessfully to keep them back. He sighs. 

“Oh Baby.” 

You hate him —you hate both of them, so much it seems to fill up every inch of you. So why do you want him to stay? Why does it feel familiar and right and good when he tucks you beneath his chin as you sob? You’d managed to hold them in with Lloyd, but you can’t with Ransom. He’s too familiar, your body knows him, thinks it’s safe with him, even when it’s not. But it’s hard not to feel that same security when he sweeps you into his arms and sits against the window with you as you whimper and cry, pressing your face into his chest. 

Ransom rocks you back and forth, rubbing circles on your back through the cotton dress. You aren’t sure what he says to you as he does so, mumbling muddy praise and promises into your hair. It’s almost worse than that day at the villa—you hadn’t been this hopeless then, this trapped. You’d thought you could leave then, that you could simply walk away from the snare they had set for you, though you never really could.

What other end could there have been?

You aren’t sure how long you sit there with Ransom, your heaving, hysterical sobs becoming hiccoughs. Listlessly you stare out at the waves, dragging the back of your hand across your puffy eyes. Wordlessly, he hands you the little plastic bag of pills. You take it from him without a fuss, tear open the corner and dump them into the palm of your hand. You consider them for a moment before lifting them to your mouth and swallowing them dry. 

—

The surprise, as it turns out, is books. 

Ransom brings in a brightly colored bag from the hallway as you sit sniffling on the bed, still wiping at your puffy eyes. It almost brings you to tears again as you pull out the tissue paper to reveal the prizes inside. They’re all books you’ve never read before but had been meaning to, even going so far as to put a list of them on the fridge in the apartment you shared with Ransom. Frankenstein. Hound of the Baskervilles. The Shining.

“You read my list.” 

“Of course I did,” Ransom says, pressing a kiss to your temple before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “It’s been up there for months.” He teases. “I thought we could read them together, like we did in college. Since you’ve been so lonely.” Something goes tight and achy in your chest at the memory of it, you and Ransom cuddled together on your narrow dorm room bed as you read him passages of Wuthering Heights and Catcher in the Rye. It’s so easy to picture it now, though you had not thought of them for months—maybe years. Your husband just a few years younger, draping his own sweater over your shoulders. 

I like when it smells like you, he’d say when you’d stammer about lotion or perfume, pressing it into your hands anyway. 

“I’d like that.” 

It’s almost like being home again, wrapping yourself in the soft comforter on the bed as Ransom begins to read. Is it so wrong, you wonder, to want to go back to when things were ordinary and perfect? Before you knew your husband and his brother felt something deeper than love, deeper than obsession for you—ownership, perhaps. You don’t want this new knowledge, as insane as that seems. You don’t want to know that your family is dependent on them, that their lives rely on your marriage in ways you never could have foreseen. Your father’s business, Nathalie’s school—all things they would lose the instant your relationship dissolved. 

And as Ransom reads, it’s almost easy to pretend you don’t have it, to close your eyes and just… listen. You’re half asleep when he shifts you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. You begin to stir, pushing at his chest, but he hums softly. 

“Just let me have this, Sweetheart. You can still hate me when I’m done.” Your husband holds you to his chest, stroking your hair until you fall asleep. He holds you like that for a long time, listening to the sound of your breathing. With a sigh, Ransom lowers you down to the mattress. He’s arranging your books on the bedside table when the sound of the keypad draws his attention.

“You’re bringing her presents already?” Lloyd drawls from the threshold. “I thought you said she wasn’t ready.” Ransom rolls his eyes. He knows what jealousy looks like well enough on his own face to know it on his brother’s. 

“I said that a week ago,” he says softly. “And keep your voice down. You know we had to lower the dose on the sedative.” Lloyd leans against the bedpost, watching as Ransom fusses over you. “Besides. You got to see her yesterday.” He shoots a glare at his older brother. “You took a fucking bath with her. You always have to be fucking first, don’t you?” 

It’s Lloyd’s turn to roll his eyes. “I don’t interfere in your relationship, you don’t talk shit about mine.” He smooths a hand down your cheek. “I called the doctor. He said he’ll be here Monday.” 

Ransom nods. “Good.” A small smile crosses his lips. “I think she’ll be excited to see the baby.” He rests a hand on the ever-so-slight curve of your belly, and Lloyd snorts. “With our luck, it’ll be twins.” You shift, mumbling something in your sleep as your face twitches. Lloyd kisses your forehead. 

“Shh, baby. M’right here.” His hand replaces Ransom’s on your belly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

—

“A doctor?” You stare at the two of them incredulously. “Here?” Lloyd scoffs at your shock. 

“Come on, Princess. It’s not like we’re in space.” He pats you affectionately on your hip. “Besides, you’re due for a checkup. Don’t you want to see your little nugget?” His words twist your stomach. You had scheduled an ultrasound for when you returned from Mykonos—not knowing, foolishly, perhaps, that you never would. I wonder what they told Dr. Pashik. 

Ransom and Lloyd are wrapped around you like snakes; your husband curled around you from behind, while Lloyd has draped himself across your lap, tracing circles on the exposed skin of your thigh where the dress has ridden up. They’d come into your room sometime early that morning while you’d still been mostly asleep, taking up residence on either side of you while you mumbled groggily. Of course Ransom and Lloyd had not come empty handed, bringing with them more gifts; books, card games, even a portable device they told you you were allowed to watch movies on. Of course, upon discreet investigation there were only streaming apps installed on it, no browser, nor any way to reach the outside world. It was password locked for extra security, which neither one of your lover-turned-captors had yet supplied you. 

You rest a hand on your tummy. “I am excited,” you say finally. “I guess… I’m surprised.” Until now, they had not allowed you to see a single person other than them—in fact you wouldn’t have known there were more people here than the three of you had Lloyd not pointedly told you. “What kind of doctor treats a prisoner?”

“You’re a patient, Princess.” Lloyd corrects you. “Not a prisoner.” He kisses your thigh. One who enjoys a discreet, hefty payout. 

“Someone you know from work?” You ask snidely, and Lloyd laughs. 

“Maybe when I can trust you, I can tell you.” He winks at you. You know your brother-in-law does work for “the government” but you aren’t really sure which government. You get the feeling he has no loyalty in that regard, though all you have to go on is your own baseless assumption. Your thoughts turn to the doctor, and you wonder if they might be sympathetic, despite Lloyd’s money. If you’re even allowed to be alone with them—in all likelihood you probably won’t. If Ransom and Lloyd have been anything they’ve been careful, you doubt they’d make such a rookie mistake this far into the game. Not now. 

You smile sadly. “I don’t think you’ll ever be able to trust me.”

“Oh Princess, I don’t know about that. After all, look at us now.” A lump forms in your throat. “All cozy like. I think you feel a lot more comfortable than you want to admit.” You swallow against the lump that’s formed, thick and sticky in your throat. 

“I just know there’s no use trying to push you off.” 

“Okay, Princess.” Lloyd blows you a kiss. “Whatever you say.” 

It is warm and comfortable between them, and as much as you hate it, Lloyd’s hands do feel familiar and right on your skin, though you don’t want them to. It occurs to you once again that you don’t know what’s in those neat little pre-packaged pill bags that they’re giving you, and as much as you don’t want to bask in the sudden intensity of their affection after weeks of stark purposeful isolation, you still can’t help yourself. It doesn’t help to know the rules of the game when they’re still playing it so effectively. All you can do is watch as Ransom and Lloyd move you around the board, to ends you can only imagine. 

“When is the doctor coming?”

“Tomorrow,” Ransom says, squeezing your hand. “I think we’ll hear the heartbeat, you’re far enough along, you know.” He sounds excited. You know he is—Ransom has always been excited at the prospect of fatherhood. He’d been downright encouraging when you had brought up going off your birth control, if the things he’d been growling into your ear as he rutted into you in your bed were any indicator, and they were. 

“We still haven’t talked about names.” 

“I had a list going but it was on my phone.” 

“Maybe we’ll take a look at it together soon.” Ransom’s hands drift to your shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscle knotted underneath your skin. 

“Will we get pictures?” You ask. “Of the ultrasound?” 

“Of course.”

“Then… will you send them to my parents?” His hands falter, and you turn to look at him. Your husband’s expression is unreadable as he glances down at his brother, an entire conversation passing between them wordlessly. You feel that same pang of old jealousy creep up into your chest, and you swallow it down. “I just—they… they would want to see.” 

“Maybe.” He says at last. 

“Where do they think I am?”

“I don’t—”

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You ask, shifting away from him, from the both of them. “Please. Tell me something. Anything.” Lloyd shakes his head with a frown, but Ransom sighs. 

“You’re in a very expensive hospital in Austria.” 

“My father wouldn’t believe that,” you say, shaking your head. You know your family—they wouldn’t just swallow some paper thin excuse just to get back to their lives. Would they? “He-he would want to see me.” 

“Your father is very busy with his business, Princess,” Lloyd cuts in effortlessly. “He has so much to worry about, and then there’s Nathalie’s classes…” he shrugs. “They trust us to take good care of you.” 

“So let us take care of you.” 

You’d suspected you had no tears left to cry, that perhaps you’d cried them all already. But as always, you manage to surprise yourself with more from the seemingly unending supply inside you. You want to push away their hands as they pat and comfort you, hushing you and wiping at their tears with the pads of their thumbs. It’s the only comfort you have, especially knowing your family isn’t looking for you. Why would they? You remember the bitter, bitter arguments you’d had with your own father when you had decided to move out. They relied on you, needed you—you contributed to more than a third of the bills, there was simply no way around it. You were hurting the family, damning them with your independence. 

“Have you ever thought about anyone but your goddamn self?” Your father had never apologized for that night, and like a dutiful daughter you never brought it up again because how could you? You were the oldest, junior mom, de-facto parent. Something shatters inside you at the thought, and you feel it almost like physical pain. I wonder if they can hear it. 

You don’t know when the arms around you begin to feel like solace instead of suffocation as you weep against someone’s warm chest—you cannot be sure, not through your blurry, red-rimmed eyes. But as your fingers curl into his shirt, and another warm set of lips presses against your hair, you wonder if perhaps this is why they chose you. 

Because who didn’t love to tinker with a broken doll?

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[turn3tifosi]

III. my love, my life

logan sargeant x girlfriend/ex!reader

you and logan have been dating since forever, and one day he realizes he doesn’t know himself without you.

series masterlist | main masterlist

There’s a look on Logan’s face, a look you instantly recognize. 

“We should break up,” he says quickly, as if afraid that if he said it more slowly, he might change his mind halfway.

His words hit you like a tidal wave, washing over your entire being. The world around you blurs as you focus on Logan’s eyes, the eyes that once looked at you with so much love and warmth. Now, they’re filled with a determination you’ve never seen before, a resolve that tells you he’s not wavering.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. 

“Logan, why? What happened?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

“It’s not something you did. It’s just... I need to find myself. I need to figure out who I am without us.”

You know that trying to convince him otherwise would be futile. You can’t control him, can’t make him stay if his heart isn’t here anymore. So, you nod, even though it feels like your heart is shattering into a million pieces.

“I understand,” you say, even though you don’t. Not really. But you respect his need for self-discovery, even if it means losing him.

Logan’s shoulders sag with relief. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, as if he didn’t expect you to take it so calmly. 

“I’ll pack my things.”

As he moves around your shared apartment, collecting his belongings, you sit on the edge of the bed, memories flooding your mind. You remember the nights spent talking until dawn, the lazy Sunday mornings, the way his laughter would fill the room and make everything seem brighter. He is your love, your life, and you can’t imagine a world without him.

When he finally zips up his suitcase, he turns to you, hesitating. 

“I’ll always care about you,” he says softly.

You force a smile. 

“And I’ll always love you.”

With a final, lingering look, Logan leaves. The door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds like the end of everything you’ve known. You sit there, staring at the closed door, feeling a hollowness you’ve never felt before. It’s as if a part of you walked out with him, leaving you incomplete.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself going through the motions, existing but not truly living. You see Logan’s ghost in everything—his favorite coffee mug, the sweater he left behind, the photos of the two of you still on the walls. Each reminder is a knife twist in the wound, a painful echo of what you had.

There are moments when you almost call him, moments when you’re convinced that hearing his voice will make everything better. But you stop yourself, knowing that he needs this time apart, needs to find himself without you. Loving someone sometimes means letting them go, even if it breaks your heart in the process.

You throw yourself into work, into hobbies, into anything that can distract you from the ache inside. Slowly, you begin to rebuild your life, piece by piece. The pain never fully goes away, but it becomes a part of you, a scar that reminds you of what once was.

You see Logan sometimes, in the places you used to go together. There’s always a moment of recognition, a shared smile that says, “I remember.” But you never approach him, never try to rekindle what you had. You respect his journey, just as he respected yours.

In time, you find a sense of peace. You realize that love doesn’t always mean holding on. Sometimes, it means letting go, allowing the person you love to become who they need to be. Logan was your love, your life, and though he’s no longer by your side, he’s still a part of you, a chapter in your story that will always be cherished.

[s-coquette]

Three’s a Crowd (2/2)

summary: Your loving boyfriend Johnny is trying to force Simon into your relationship without your consent.

warnings: slight dubcon/noncon, piv sex, anal sex, angst?? coercion

word count: 3.8k

part one

The feeling of those same honeyed brown eyes staring at you was unnerving. They were beautiful, like hot freshly brewed coffee swirling in your mug. In any other situation you would’ve complimented them, but right now you wanted to rip them out of his head.

“Simon! Hello… What are you doing here?”

You say with a forced smile, almost gritting your teeth in annoyance. Any time you heard his name you thought about what Johnny made you say while climaxing, maybe that was his cruel way of making you get used to the thought of him?

His brooding form stood in front of you at your doorway, intimidating you in your own apartment.

“Jus’ came in t’ see my boy.”

Your forced smile dropped the second he uttered those words, his boy? It almost made you want to scoff. You could see the smirk tug beneath his black mask, the bastard was enjoying making you jealous.

As you opened your mouth to rudely shoo him away and lie that Johnny was out,

“Hen.. Why are y’ out of bed-“

Johnnys tired voice came from behind you, turning around and finding him in only his briefs. You tried to shoo him away and tell him to get dressed but nothing went through his sleepy head.

“Who is tha- Simon? Steamin’ Jesus! I ken’ you’d come by.”

You were unceremoniously shoved out of the doorway while your boyfriend chatted with the big bastard. Throwing your hands up in defeat you retreated to the bedroom to sulk and get dressed to go to the store, like you and Johnny had planned the night before.

Throwing on one of Johnnys gray hoodies and a simple pair of black leggings, you sifted through the sheets to find your lost phone. Scowling when you heard your boyfriends loud laughs, wanting to rip your hair out when he invited Simon inside.

The bedroom door slamming open startled you, turning around to find Johnny grinning like he won a prize, still in his underwear.

“Woah, bun. What’s the hurry? Where ya off to? We have a guest.”

His innocent tone made you want to scream. You watched him as he rifled through the closet to find some sweatpants and a shirt.

“I’m going to the store, like we planned out yesterday.”

Your cold response made his face fall like a sad puppy. Snatching your phone finally after finding it beneath your pillow.

“No you aren’t.”

The suddenly dark tone of his voice made you stiff, it made you realise even though he acted like a soft ball of sunshine that he was in fact a grown man who had years of military experience and trauma.

“Wh- I am, we don’t have anything in the fridge and we’re running low on coffee.”

You now turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed as his face looked grim, you never witnessed that expression on him and it made chills run down your spine.

“Bonnie, we have a guest. It’s rude to leave when he’s just come by.”

“I don’t care, Johnny. He’s not my friend, I have nothing to do with him.”

That seemed to set him off more, his giant hand grabbed your wrist and tugged you along with him.

“Wait- Stop- Johnny.”

All your resistance was met with a harsh tug, a warning. You were thrown into the living room like a deer in headlights, staring at the man occupying your apartment.

Simon made himself comfortable, arms resting on the headrest of the couch, thick thighs that were probably 2x bigger than yours spread out.

The scowl on your face appeared again and you bawled your fists. Johnny ushered you to sit down next to Simon but you chose the farthest point from him.

Your boyfriend just tossed you a look and sat down next to ghost, almost hugging him.

“Wha’s got your panties in a twist, kitty?”

The loud cocky sound of his deep accented voice rumbled through you. If you didn’t hate his guts you would’ve found it attractive.

You twisted your hoodie in your hands in annoyance and mumbled out a small,

“You.”

You could sense the smirk under that damn black mask, wanting to rip it off and choke him with it.

“Bonnie! I don’t understand what’s gotten into you? What did Simon do to deserve you acting like that?”

That was your breaking point. You felt like a small child being scolded for something it didn’t do.

“You wanna know what’s gotten into me? You constantly talking about Simon! Simon this, Simon that, oh, let’s go out with him! Oh, I invited him over! Every single day it’s all about Simon! Why don’t you just dump me and be with him if you love him so fucking much since i think you’d rather fuck him than me!”

The tears stinging your eyes and the humiliation and embarrassment from your monologue making your chest heave.

Johnny looked dumbfounded while Simon just stared at you, stoic as always, but his fists were now closed.

You took that as your queue to leave.

“Wha-!”

A strong hand grabbed your wrist when you got up, pulling you down into a warm lap. Johnny held you close to him while you tried to fight the frown on your face, eyes bleary with tears.

“Hen….”

“Stop it-“

You pushed at his chest, his hands smoothed down your hair as you hiccuped on your sobs.

“Y- You come in here- call him your boy, hug him like he’s- he’s your boyfriend-“

You inhale loudly and try to wipe at your face to argue like a woman.

“You’re all- he talks about, it’s like he’s- he’s fucking in love with you! You don’t know how much that hurts me.”

Your sniffles interrupting every word.

“I jus’ wanted t’ go to the store with my boyfriend!”

You tried to continue but a giant hand cupped your cheeks and squished them together, wetting his fingers in your tears.

Your weak attempts to slap his hand away were shushed.

“Cute little thing.”

All of the emotions you just poured out and the things that have been stressing you for MONTHS, were ‘cute’. You wanted to scream. Run out of the apartment and go back to your family’s house.

Instead, your sobs got worse and you just wept while he menacingly squished your cheeks.

“Oh, hen… That’s what I’ve been trying to tell ye.”

So he didn’t love you anymore? He was fucking Simon? He wanted to break up? The thought that you’ve been in a relationship with a man who doesn’t love you back made you whimper out of emotions running through you.

“You- You-You,”

Couldn’t even articulate yourself without loud gasps in between.

“Don’ love me anymore-“

Warm hands soothed up and down your body as he brought you closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Nonono.. Tha’s not it. I love you, so much. It hurts how much I love you. But I also love Simon.”

So your boyfriend wanted to replace you? Perfect.

“I don’t understand..”

Your confused face with crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks was enough to make Simon coo.

“I love you, and I love Simon. Simon loves me, but you don’t like him. This isnt going to work if we don’t all get a long.”

That made you push at his chest, was he crazy? He wanted to be in a relationship with both of you at the same time?

“Shhh, I ken’, hen, I ken’ that it’s selfish of me to want both of ya’. But Simon wanted to try it out. Simon is willing if you are too. That is.. If you love me. I don’t know what i’d do without you.”

You sniffled and tried to wipe at your face.

“I don’ like Simon…”

“Y’ will, bun.”

Too burned out to argue you just sobbed into his chest, every time you tried to get up you’d be forcefully shoved back. Once your cries morphed into little sniffles he loosened his grip on you. You wrenched yourself out of his grasp and got on wobbly feet, barely carrying yourself to the bedroom where you slammed the door behind.

Pulling out your phone, trying to text anyone and everyone if they had some place for you to stay over, just until you could find a new apartment.

You pulled out your old backpack and started throwing in random clothes while wiping the tears that were threatening to spill again.

You wanted to slap yourself when you remembered your laptop was in the living room.

Begrudgingly stepping out of your once shared bedroom, you make your way through the hallway and into the living room. The thing you set your eyes on making you want to claw them out.

There he was, your ‘boyfriend’, embraced in Simon’s arms. By the looks of it he was pretty shaken by what had happened, rubbing his face while mumbling something to the other.

Letting out a forced cough to make your presence known made his head snap right to you, were you going to forgive him? Give him a chance at the new ‘addition’?

Staring at the coffee table, you went straight for it. Ignoring anything he wanted to say and grabbing your laptop.

His eyebrows shot up when he realised you had slung a backpack over your shoulder. He frantically tried to persuade you, trying to get up only to fail with Simon’s strong grip on him.

Simon grabbed your forearm and threw you into them, letting out a pained yelp when your back landed on his shoulder and Johnny’s elbow.

“Stop it! You big fucking bastard! You took my boyfriend and now what do you want from me!”

You screamed at him, only to be met with a large hand cupping your mouth.

“You talk a lot of someone so small.”

The malice in his voice made you stiff, his gaze was piercing.

“I don’t care If you like me or not. I want Johnny to be happy, if he wants you to stay you’re gonna stay.”

His tone made it sound like a threat, it probably was. You nodded, unable to breathe under his hot hand.

Letting out loud gasp once he let you go, trying to scramble into Johnny’s lap.

“Look, bonnie. Simon is going to be staying with us for a while. He’s lonely at home, no one to look forward to when he wakes up, I just couldn’t let him suffer like that.”

You stared at Johnny, feeling betrayed.

“Johnny. Were you fucking him while we were together?”

The guilty look on his face was enough for you. Struggling to wrench yourself out of their grasp, Simon only locked his arms around you and made you face Johnny.

“Hen, we are still together. And yes, it was at the beginning of our relationship. I just- We’ve had emotions for each other ever since our time in the task force. We couldn’t, it was unprofessional and we’d probably get fired. Then after we got discharged we kind of lost contact, we only started talking at the beginning of our relationship, hence why um, we had sex.”

You stared at him like he was out of his mind, which he rightfully was.

“Then why the fuck are you forcing me to stay?”

“Because i love y’ too! Can’t you get it?”

The both of you were heaving with emotion, Simon just watching, the same stoic look in his eyes.

“I think that’s enough arguing. Why won’t the little lady go and brew us a cuppa so we can settle down a little’.”

“Like hell i wil-“

The death stare he gave you was enough to get you on your feet and moving to the kitchen.

You threw around the mugs, purposely clanking loudly with the spoon and furrowing your eyebrows when you realised that there was only enough left for two cups.

You sighed and made it anyway, one in Johnny’s favourite mug and one in the ratty old one you and your boyfriend avoided using.

The sight of Simon comforting Johnny and lightly caressing his mohawk just like you used to made you slam the coffee down onto the table and take a seat on the pillow next to it where you usually lounged on your laptop.

“Oh, bun-“

“Shut up.”

A frown tugged at his lips, his favourite girl hated him now.

•

The nights were the worst. Laying in bed with the two big lugs, listening to them talk like they’d just gotten married.

Your back turned to them, you’d listen to the breathy moans, the same ones Johnny used to let out with you, while they kissed passionately.

Sometimes it made you jealous that you hadn’t joined them, but your pride made you deny that.

And they did, they’d ask you countless times if you wanted to cuddle with them, kiss them, have sex with them, it all resulted in a harsh no.

Johnny took that the worst, he couldn’t continue if he saw you laying down with a pillow over your head to block out the sound of them, back turned.

The most you’d get close to them was cuddling up to Johnny for warmth. It made him happy but it also made him sad that you weren’t seeking out Simon. It was also starting to have an effect on him, he knew Johnny loved you with all of his might, and seeing Johnny so depressed over you made his heart scrunch in his chest.

One night, when you were feeling particularly depressed in your trapped state, you felt Johnny spoon you. The weight of his back and his arms around you relaxed you, made you think of the times you weren’t a prisoner in your own home.

Then you felt another pair of arms around you, Simon’s. It made you recoil, trying to wiggle out.

“Stop it- Stop it, hen! When will you accept him?”

That question made tears sting in your eyes, he thought you were going to accept him no matter what.

Johnny just sighed and pushed you against him, hovering his nose against your neck, leaving small kisses and nips like he used to. His hand wandered down, slowly, cautiously into your waistband, slipping his pinky in to test the waters before pushing his whole hand in.

You let out a gasp when he cupped your mound, his hips jerking into your yours to make you hump his hand.

“I told Simon about the time I got you to moan his name,”

That made you flush, you tried telling him to stop but he continued anyway.

“We fucked that night and i was telling im’ all about you.”

You let out a whimper, his fingers now moving to do harsh circles of your clit.

“Told im’ about your slutty little moans while he was fucking my ass. Got him off to the thought of you, hen. Made him imagine he was fucking you instead of me. Gotta return the favour, right?”

God, this man is going to drive you crazy.

He suddenly flipped you on your back, you expected to meet the softness of your bed instead you got pushed into a wall of muscle.

Trying to squirm away was no good, they only just manhandled you to stay, pushing all of your clothes off and leaving you bare between them.

Simon’s giant paws grabbed at your tits, kneading them in his warm calloused hands.

“H’ told me about these cute little tits,”

Swirling your nipples between his rough fingers before pinching them, making you yelp and jump in his hold.

“Shhh, hold on, bun. We’re going to make this work.”

His words made your eyes fill with tears.

“I want Johnny…”

“Awh, I’m here, baby. It’s alright.”

The way he talked down on you while you were being groped by another man made you sob.

“Fussy little thing, just need some extra love-“

Simon grunted before forcefully pushing his thick fingers into your cunt.

“Gotta stretch her out nice and wide, haven’t had anything in er’ in a while, huh?”

The way he was talking to you made you uncomfortably horny. You hated to admit it.

You were slowly falling into a headspace, you tried to fight it with all you could, but being surrounded by these two giant men who were talking down to you made you feel small and broken.

Johnny immediately noticed, pushing his palm against your cheek and giving you the first passionate kiss you two had shared in so long.

You let out a whine when Simon grabbed him by his mohawk, pushing him up and making him slobber all over his mask, leaving a wet patch behind.

You frowned at the sight, turning your gaze away, trying to focus on the fingers stuffed in your needy pussy.

“Jealous little lady,”

That made you whine, too strung out to form words.

“It’s okay, hen. I love y’ just as much.”

The words didn’t help, you pushed against his chest, trying to get away.

“Attention whore, that’s what she is.”

You sniffle at the harshness of his statements. His movements speed up, the slick sounds of your cunt spread out through the room. You grinded up into the stimulation, too close to your climax.

“Ah ah ah- Not so fast.”

An annoyed grunt left you, you were so soft and pliable once you got pleasure, it was so easy to mold your mind.

“Now, kitty. Johnny here is gonna fuck this tight cunt-“

Followed by a quick little smack to your sensitive parts that was surprising more than anything.

You felt his breath in your ear once he continued.

“And i’m gonna fuck his cute little ass.”

You whined and pushed at him, not wanting to see your boyfriend get fucked by another man. It only resulted in a grin and the feeling of him getting up from behind you.

You felt tears bubble up again as you tried to push him back behind you, but he was too strong for you to make an impact.

Johnnys eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you getting so distraught,

“Is’ alright, baby, I want him to,”

You just shook your head and bit your lip, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling his head under your chin.

“Fuck!”

You jumped when you heard Johnny moan out, looking straight ahead and seeing Simon shoving his fingers mercilessly into him.

You felt something sliding against your cunt and let out a yelp when you felt a bulbous tip circle your opening.

Johnny only raised his head to look at you with a grin. That’s when you felt him slowly slide in, a loud moan escaping him, after being denied of you for so long.

Simon took that as the queue to slide in too, letting out a grunt and grabbing onto Johnnys hips.

“Gonna let me fuck you, bonnie?”

You shook your head again, voice too weak to use your words. Johnny panted above you, a fucked out look in his eyes as his arms rested on either side of your head.

You both jerked up when Simon made the first move, slowly thrusting in and out of him. Johnny, vocal as he always was, letting out little whines and pants.

“St-St-ah,”

Your protests were cut out by Johnny’s rough thrusts, sending your body up and down on the bed.

“I think the little lady likes watchin’ you get fucked,”

Simon teased, doing a particularly rough thrust, making both you and Johnny moan.

“Nooo-“

You whined, eyes screwing shut.

Simon’s hand reached down and gripped your cheeks harshly,

“Look me right in the eyes while I fuck him or I won’t let you cum.”

You wanted to protest but you were met with a warning tap to the cheek, a few droplets surrounded the corners of your eyes before they got gently wiped by the scot.

They continued roughly plowing at the same pace, the way they were coordinated kind of made you impressed.

Johnny reached down and circled your clit with quick strokes, eyebrows furrowing and thrusts getting needier.

“Cmon- Cmon, hen, come, come for us.”

You stared at those same honey brown eyes and let out a loud whimper, your climax so close to tipping over.

A loud smack snapped you out of it, Simon slapping Johnny’s ass, which made him let out a whorish moan. The sounds he was making were fuelling your end.

He sped up his ministrations on your clit, his thumb circling the swollen bud so roughly you couldn’t even think.

Your bleary eyes almost crossed as you looked at Simon, the wall of muscle that his was. His chest was speckled with light blonde hairs and thousands of scars, his happy trail prominent.

You felt your legs shake as you felt the intense build up, cresting over into a loud moan, arching your back and cumming onto Johnnys cock.

“Good girl, thaas’ it.”

You heard Simon throw in his praise, it strangely making your head tingle. Johnny didn’t let up, letting out even louder moans while fucking your overstimulated pussy. The whines you let out for him to stop, that it was too much, were left out in the wind.

“Cmon, pup, cum, cum for me.”

Simon commanded, and it’s as if Johnnys body followed all of his orders, he did. Letting out a groan and pushing his head into your chest for comfort, spilling his warm seed into your used cunt.

Simon followed soon after, sticking himself to the hilt and grunting.

You let out a whimper, tears collecting in your eyes when Johnny just pulled out and left you with Simon.

A yelp leaving your mouth when the bigger man picked you up and laid you down on his chest, a hand caressing through your hair and calming down your breathing.

“I wan- Where’s Johnny-“

“Sush.”

You whined and rubbed at your face, too deep into it that your mind felt blank. You tried to push at his strong chest, hands too weak to do anything but rest at it.

“I don’ like you..”

“I know, sweetheart.”

When you looked up at him it was the first time his eyes weren’t cold, they were softer, like he was trying to comfort you.

You let out a sob and dug your nails into his chest to ground yourself. He let you.

You were still sobbing by the time Johnny came out of the bathroom, a towel in hand with a bottle of water he picked up on his way back.

“Oh, sweetie..”

He cleaned you up gently and gave you some water, not trusting you to hold the bottle yourself, before handing it to Simon for him to have a drink too.

You heaved, trying to articulate your emotions.

“Johnny-“

Was all that left you, you reached your arms for him weakly, and he pitied you and grabbed you. He laid you down between the two of them to your protest and hushed you.

And there you fell asleep, fucked out and too emotional to argue again.

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

[jasmines-library]

Can you do a Winchester sister fic where she’s overworking herself and the boys are worried and notice her deteriorating but she keeps brushing them off until eventually she passes out on a hunt and won’t wake up and the brothers are protective and very worried

Sleep Is For The Weak

warnings: overworking, exhaustion, fainting/collapse. Pls remember to get sleep and look after yourself lovely :)

Word count: 1.7K

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

“Y/N?” Sam blinked at you bleary eyed, staring at you from where he was leaning on the doorframe. You were sitting slumped over your laptop in the library, surrounded by a collection of books that you had scattered around the table and a cold cup of half drank coffee that you were using to try to force yourself awake. Your eyes were drooping closed as you squinted at the screen before you. You had spent the last two nights desperately trying to finish your college assignment that a last minute hunt meant you were behind on, only giving yourself a few hours of rest before starting up again. 

Sam took a heavy step toward you rubbing his eyes. He was struggling to get to sleep and so had decided to grab himself a glass of water when he saw the light coming from the library. “Why are you still up?”

You didn’t even glance up at him as you continued to type away, pressing your fingers mindlessly onto the little black keys on your laptop. “Hi Sammy. I need to finish this assignment.”

“Kiddo-” He shook his head. It’s late and this isn’t healthy. You need to sleep.” Sam told you, gripping your shoulders. 

You shrugged him off by rolling your shoulders. “Soon. I need to finish this.”

“Y/N.”

“Sam.”

Your brother sighed, rolling his eyes and raising his hands in surrender. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you’re tired tomorrow.”

He turned, leaving you alone to return to your essay. You could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen for a few minutes before his footsteps retreated back down the hallway and you were left in silence again to tap away on the keyboard.

~

You dragged your feet in slowly through the door to the bunker. After hanging up your jacket and your bag, you hauled yourself down the stairs and made a beeline for the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee. The day had been extremely long; one of those days where everytime you look at the clock it feels like the minute hand has jumped backwards. Running on nearly no sleep hadn’t helped you much at all and you had been running completely on caffeine to keep your head from hitting the desk during class. 

As you shuffled into the kitchen and began to fumble around with the coffee maker, you heard Dean gruffly announce his presence by accidentally sending a pot hurtling across the floor and cursing loudly. You winched at the nose. 

“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, noting your slumped shoulders and droopy eyes. “How was school? Did your assignment go okay?”

You shrugged as you poured the coffee into the mug nearly missing it completely. “It was fine. Got an A on my assignment.”

“That great kiddo, I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you Dean.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Your older brother frowned at you.

“Just tired.”

“I told you.” Sam jested as he entered the kitchen. 

“Whatever.”

Dean looked between his two siblings “What’s going on?”

“Y/N stayed up all night writing that essay. And the night before that.”

“Seriously?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave you that look. 

“Yes. It needed to be done and I’ve been busy.” You told him. “Besides, I’ll sleep extra well tonight.” 

“Make sure you do, kiddo.”

You gave him a reassuring look before leaving the kitchen with your mug gripped in your hands.

“Rest. Y/N.” Dean called after you, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I will.”

It was a lie. You knew that, but your brothers didn’t. You still had too much to do in such a short time. You were behind on lore and training because you had been prepping for your assignment. Only after you had caught up would you allow yourself to rest. 

You made your way into the shooting range with your pistol in hand. The room was large enough to practise basic sparring and hand to hand combat as well as gun training. Your brothers had equipped the room with sparring mats, punching bags and dummies along with some other equipment that they used for weight training, so the room was more of a gym than a shooting range if you were going to be completely honest. 

After spending some time catching up on your basic training and working on some new techniques that you had discovered whilst rooting around the Men of Letters archives you moved on to shooting. You took a swig of your water and wiped the sheen of sweat from your brow before picking up your gun firing relentlessly at the target until you hit the centre enough times that you were satisfied. By the time you were done your hands were trembling ever so slightly as you checked your clock and cursed. It was much later than you thought: it had crept into the early hours of the morning and you knew you would have to be up soon. So, after jumping in the shower you retired to your room to try and get a few short hours in. 

~

You were woken up much earlier than you had hoped you would be. Your brothers had never been that subtle, no matter how hard they tried to be. To your ears anyway, you supposed spending so much time with them would do that to you. 

Groggily pulling yourself up, you cracked open the door to see your two brothers sneaking down the hallway with their duffel bags slung over their shoulders. 

“Dean?” You asked, sleep still very evident in your voice. It matched perfectly with the dark bags that hung under your eyes. 

Dean froze, scrunching his face up before turning and facing you. “Hey Sweetheart…”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Dean said automatically trying to ignore the fact that you had caught him. 

“Dean.”

“Jody called. Sam and I are going to help her with a hunt.” He admitted, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. The contents rattled and you knew that it was filled with a concoction of weapons.

“And you were just going to leave me here?”

“It’s not far. We were going to be back before lunch. Maybe even before you woke up.”

You stared at him and Sam, hurt. 

“I’m coming.” You turned on your heel to grab the bag you kept under your bed for hunts. 

You didn’t get far before Dean stopped you. “No you’re not. You need to sleep Y/N. You look like hell.”

“Wow. Thank you, Dean.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I’m coming with you.” 

“No-”

“Dean.” Sam shook his head, looking at your stubborn expression that you were using to try and hide the fact that you were pissed that they were trying to leave you. He nearly second guessed himself when he took in how tired you looked, but he couldn’t leave you on your own again. “Just let her come.”

The eldest Winchester sighed. “Fine. You have five minutes to meet us in the car or we’re leaving without you.”

~

You were tired. And not just the ‘I haven’t slept more than eight hours total in the last three days’ kind of tired. The kind of tired where all of your muscles ache and your legs feel like jelly, where your vision swarms and your head pounds, wracked with an increasing nausea induced headache. The kind of tired where simply breathing makes your chest hurt and drains all of your energy. By the time the hunt was done you could barely hold the machete in your trembling hands. 

Jody had called Sam and Dean to help her hunt a nest of vampires that seemed to be much larger than usual; around 15 vamps and counting. She had stumbled upon it accidentally and with Claire out of state, she felt she needed the help of you and your brothers. Luckily you had reached her in time, but the fight was tiresome and gruesome, and the four of you barely made it away unscathed for the most part. But you were oh so tired…

Swaying on your feet, you blinked away your blurry vision, clutching onto the doorframe of the house to keep yourself upright. Sam had tried to get you to sleep in the car, but with the rough terrain you struggled to drift off and oh boy was it getting to you now. You were surprised your body was even still functioning at this point. 

“Y/n/n?” Sam asked, stricken with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” You tried to brush him off, letting go of the wall and taking a step forward “I just need to-”

Your legs gave out completely and you crumpled to the floor, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Y/N!” Dean skidded to your side. “Y/N?!” He shook your shoulders. “Sam!”

Sam patted you lightly on your cheek. “Y/N. Wake up.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even stir an inch.

~

“She should be awake by now.”

A quiet voice was barely audible from somewhere in the room. You opened your eyes a peak; just enough to make out two tall figures standing across the room. Your body felt like it had been tossed in the air and then run over by a truck, though you felt less groggy than you remember feeling when-

“Give her time, Dean. Her body was completely exhausted. She needs to rest.”

“She’s been asleep for days, Sam. How much longer is ‘time’?”

You groaned. “Would you two just shut up for two minutes?”

“Y/n?!” Dean moved to the side of your bed joined by his little brother. You smiled tiredly at him, noting the way his stubble seemed to be more unkempt than usual and he had bags under his eyes. 

“Hi boys.”

Sammy let out a sigh of relief. “You had us so worried, Kid.”

“Sorry…”

“You gotta take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

That made you laugh a little. “Take your own advice, Winchester.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Touche.”

“But seriously, kiddo.” Sam interjected, wrapping you up in his arms. “You come first, alright. You matter to us more than grades and hunting. When you passed out- the thought of losing you isn’t something we ever want to think about. So you gotta promise that you’ll look after yourself for us.”

“Okay.” You nodded. 

“Promise?” Dean stuck out his pinky finger with a childish grin. 

You interlocked yours with his. “Promise.”

[urdepressedslut]

Off Day

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky helps comfort you after you’ve had a bad day.

♡ Warnings: fluffy, angst, hurt/comfort, injury to reader, slight self hate, language

A/N: in my perfect world, everyone is still alive because i just can’t handle the truth 🤪

You ever just have a day where nothing goes right?

It started the moment you had woken up, a random sharp pain shooting up your back. The ache causing you to grimace, the pain already putting you off.

You thought to yourself of the possible reasons for the random ache. You had done your normal workout yesterday, having your usual walk through the city. You grabbed coffee with the boys, then went over to Sarah’s. It was all part of your routine.

Giving yourself time to fully wake up, you tried to brush away the pain— determined to move on with your day.

You had showered, gotten dressed and headed to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast. Everything was going smoothly, until it wasn’t.

The coffee maker was acting up. You stood waiting— unplugging and plugging the machine. All your attempts were useless, as the coffee maker still wasn’t working. You went to put your mug away, when all of a sudden the ceramic slipped from your fingers— crashing to the floor.

You reacted by clenching your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. You were trying not to lose it. Were your fingers slippery? You were never this clumsy.

“Just take deep breaths. Everything’s fine.” You muttered to yourself.

Despite your achey back, you got on your hands and knees— cleaning up the mess you made. What a morning.

After helping Tony and Bruce in the lab, you headed back to your room to get ready for lunch. You had made plans with your friend, Elena. You hadn’t seen her in forever, and you both finally made time to see each other.

You took a quick shower, now staring into your closet— trying to decide on what to wear. You didn’t have time to think too hard on your outfit, because your phone vibrating on your dresser got your attention.

Reading the caller ID, you saw it was Elena.

“Hey girl, what’s up?” You answered, walking back over to the closet— phone to ear.

“Hey so um… I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today.” She told you.

Your face instantly dropped, disappointed that you weren’t going to be able to see her. You had really missed her.

“Oh, okay.”

“Are you mad?” Elena hesitantly asked.

“No, not at all. It’s just been a rough day and I was really looking forward to seeing you.” You assured her, trying to keep your tone light.

You really wanted to say, ‘Hey girl, my days been pretty shit so far— I really fucking miss you.’

You heard her sigh in relief over the phone.

“I’m sorry babes, something came up at work and I can’t push it aside. I already have gotten written up twice.” She told you, and you could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“Damn Elena, what trouble are you getting into?” You joked.

“Absolutely nothing. Just my fists dealing with some sexist workers, that’s all.” She explained so casually.

“Wow, respect.” You hummed proudly.

“Anyways, let’s catch up soon. For now, I gotta go. Love ya!”

“Bye.” You said solemnly, hanging up.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your thumbs. You were frustrated with how everything was turning out for you. You were frustrated with today.

“The universe is punishing you. I’m sure of it.” You mumbled to yourself, slipping on some leggings and a plain red shirt.

You totally skipped the idea of lunch, heading back downstairs to the lab. You just wanted the day to end, so you could start over tomorrow.

The universe was indeed punishing you, as things went from good to bad real quick in the lab.

It was simple really. Tony asked for you to grab a tool. You had blindly stuck your hand in the cabinet, reaching for said tool when all of a sudden you felt a sharp stinging in your hand.

“Ah fuck!” You ripped your hand out, inspecting the damage.

You should’ve been surprised, but how the day had went so far— you didn’t even blink an eye. There was a deep gash in your palm, bleeding freely.

“You okay (Y/n)?” Bruce ran over, worried eyes on you.

You waved him off, trying to hide your hand.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just stubbed my finger on something.”

Tony walked up next to Bruce, giving you a look like he knew you were hiding something.

“You sure about that?” Tony pried.

You shook your head, giving them the fakest smile you had.

“Yeah, all good. Excuse me for a second.” You said politely, rushing yourself out of the room.

You weren’t sure what had brought the sudden wave of tears, but you assumed it was all of todays shit finally hitting the fan. Everything that had happened was barely life threatening, and some would say you were being dramatic— but you were mentally fed up with today. All you wanted to do was sleep it off.

You had almost made it to your room, but with your vision blurred with tears— you bumped into a muscular chest.

“Oh, sorry doll— hey, you alright?” Bucky asked you, holding you upright from him nearly knocking you over. He quickly noticed your cheeks glistening from your tears.

Those simple words, ‘You alright?’ triggered something in you, pushing more tears out. You felt pathetic.

“Hey, hey— what’s wrong?” He softly asked again, but he noticed your bloody cradled hand, “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, trying to show that he didn’t have to worry.

“No, I’m fine really just… Not having the best day.” You muttered out, sniffling— feeling ashamed of yourself.

Here was Bucky standing in front of you. He had gone through so much, went through hell, and he was strong enough to still be standing here today. He was incredible.

Then there was you, upset about having an off day.

Yes— it wasn’t a competition, but when you put it into that perspective it sounds bad.

“Let’s stop the bleeding, okay?” He suggested, still holding onto your arms.

“Seriously, I’m fin—”

You suddenly stopped, feeling him take your non injured hand— pulling you towards your room. At last, you had made it to your space.

“Go sit. I’ll grab some supplies.” He told you, and you were in no state to argue.

You didn’t want to have to ask for help, but a part of you really needed to be taken care of. What better person to comfort you than Bucky, he was your rock.

He was back in less than a minute, gauze and medical tape in hand. He kneeled down in front of your perched form, gently taking your bloody hand. He began to clean it as carefully as he could, while in his mind he wondered what had happened.

“You go on a mission I didn’t know about?” He tried to joke, but couldn’t get you to smile.

You shook your head, keeping your gaze on your hand.

“Just had an accident in the lab.”

He nodded and focused back on your hand. Wiping it clean of red— wrapping it with the gauze. He released your hand, letting you cradle it back to yours chest. He plopped down to your left, his weight on the bed making you lean into him.

“You wanna tell me what’s really going on?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows. “I’ve seen you walk away unbothered with worse injuries.”

You were aware he’d caught your admission that you were having a bad day, and a small part of you had wished he’d forgotten. But Bucky being well… him— of course he remembered.

You stayed silent, brain coming up empty with a good lie.

“This can’t be what’s go you so upset,” He motioned to your hand, to which you cradled further into your chest, “What’s going on doll?”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned your head on his shoulder. To which he leaned his head against yours, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“Just a bad day.” You whispered finally.

He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, rubbing his thumb soothingly.

“Did someone say something to you? Was it Tony?” He questioned, waiting for you to drop a name. He’d be gone in a second, ready to tell off whoever was bothering you.

“No one’s bothering me.”

He relaxed instantly, relived that nobody was messing with you. He moved his head off of yours, turning his body to face you. You slowly faced him too, catching his confused expression.

“Like I said, bad day.” You told him with a shrug.

He frowned at your sad expression, wishing he could take all your frustrations away.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked you.

Your heart swelled at his gesture. He was always so sweet, so understanding. He was patient with you when he shouldn’t be, he was what got you through the hardest days. He meant so much to you.

“Just snuggle with me.” You told him shyly.

“I can do that!” He exclaimed all excited.

He picked you up, placing you to stand next to the bed. You watched with an amused expression as he got the pillows all aligned. He took the blankets, making a circle with them— almost forming some kind of nest. He placed your build-a-bear teddy in the middle, and stepped back with a smile.

“What do you think?”

You shook your head and laughed, body already feeling lighter— the stress fading away.

“I think you’re a huge dork.” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes, slipping off his shoes and jacket. He plopped down in the middle of the bed, the blankets surrounding him.

“Whatever, now get in here.” He demanded playfully.

You followed shortly, crawling into the blanket nest with him. He leaned back, pulling you with him.

“Thanks Buck.” You mumbled into his chest.

He smiled, giving you a gentle squeeze, rubbing his hands over your back.

“Don’t have to thank me. I’m always here for you.” He told you genuinely.

Your heart swelled, chest warm with adoration. How did you get so lucky?

He held you for awhile, both of you talking occasionally. After a bit, you started getting tired, and ended up falling asleep in his arms.

Bucky smiled to himself, gazing at your sleeping form. Your face was relaxed, your body wasn’t tensed up anymore. He couldn’t stand the fact that you’d had a bad day, and he was glad you looked so peaceful now.

You were so glad to have someone like Bucky to help comfort you when you were having an off day.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 11

Y'all, this GIF is down right SPICY but it fit the smut in the story so well I had to ☺️

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: SMUT, Emma getting an attitude, Sy yelling, detailed PTSD flashback, bodily function/embarrassment, self-deprecating talk, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 10

I wake up still in the same position that I fell asleep in, on Emma’s chest and notice that my body feels incredibly stiff. Her gentle breathing and steady heartbeat are comforting even though I’m incredibly embarrassed and just want to pretend last night never happened. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long day. I notice the amount of light cascading in from behind the curtains must make it late in the morning, but considering I had a very active night I’m not surprised that I slept in. I carefully lift my head to see if Emma is awake and am startled when I see her big beautiful eyes staring down at me. 

“Good morning.” She says quietly.

“Mornin’.” I reply.

“How are you feeling?”

“Stiff. What time is it?” I ask her somewhat brusquely.

“It’s 9:38.” She answers after looking at the time on her phone.

I sigh and sit up so that I’m faced away from her. 

“Let me make us some breakfast. I’m hungry.” She quickly gets up and goes to the restroom to take care of her morning routines before she exits and walks to the bedroom door.

“Come down to eat after you’re done in the bathroom please.” She says quietly while I’m still pondering my next move as I sit on the edge of the bed. The tension and embarrassment oozes from my body as I sit there attempting to contemplate how to handle this. I haven’t been in this situation before. Alex has seen me have a small flashback at work once, but we didn’t have to talk about it. My grandparents certainly don’t know the extent of my PTSD because I purposely keep it from them. They don’t need to know how mentally damaged their loving grandchild has become. Aika is really the only one who has ever witnessed the extent of my depravity and luckily, she can’t talk or judge me for it. She’s just a silent witness who snaps me out of it with a bark or licking my face. Emma is the only person to ever see how badly it really is and I just don’t even know what to say to her. I force myself up and relieve myself in the bathroom before brushing my teeth and getting myself ready for the day. I look at my reflection in the mirror and wonder just how I got this screwed up before heading to the kitchen. 

Emma is humming to herself as if nothing has transpired as she flips pancakes on the stove. She has coffee brewing in the pot and has sat out my favorite mug that has a picture of a donkey on it with the words, “Do I Look Like a Jackass?” written across it. It was a gift from one of my warhorse buddies, Harper. 

When she hears me approach, she turns and silently fills the cup with coffee before handing it to me with a shy smile. Seems the poor thing is also trying to figure out what to say and coming up blank.

“I hope pancakes sound good to you. I also made some bacon and saw there’s some fruit in your fridge but I’m not sure how old it is.”

“That’s more than enough. Thank you.” 

I drink my coffee while she turns back around to work on the breakfast. Once it’s made, I set the table and refill our coffee cups while remembering to add the coffee creamer that I now buy specifically for Emma since she likes hers sweet. Just like her.

We sit down and I’m aching to avoid the subject but I know I just need to get it over with.

I clear my throat. “Breakfast looks really good. Thank you.”

“Anytime, baby.” She replies and I want to smile.

“I um… I’m really sorry about what happened last night. You shouldn’t have to see me like that or put up with it and I just want to apologize.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. I’m grateful you opened up to me a little bit, honestly.”

Unwillingly, I think to myself. I take a deep breath.

“Maybe, this thing between us is moving too fast.” I blurt out.

“By this thing, you mean our relationship? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought we were exclusive after our conversation the other day. Is this you trying to end things with me?” She says angrily.

“I’m just no good for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with a grown man who has nightmares.”

“I think that I should be the one to decide who or what is good for me. I’m a grown woman who has plenty of my own baggage and I’m not going to allow you to throw this away because you’re embarrassed or trying to protect me from the one person who doesn’t pose a threat to me.”

“I absolutely pose a threat to you!” I yell and slam my fist against the table. “Wasn’t last night enough to show you? I was wielding a rifle dreaming that I was back in active war. Damnit Emma! Don’t be naïve. I could have shot you, or hit you. I could have thought that you were the enemy and there’s no way you would have been able to fight me off! I should have ended things before it got to this point and I’m sorry that I didn’t. I was being selfish and wanted more time with you but I realize now how dangerous that is.”

“NO.” She crosses her arms and straitens her back defensively.

“No?” I repeat in quiet shock.

“No.” She stares at me with a look of fire like a mother chastising her child and even though she’s so tiny I feel myself cower back a little.

“You are ruining the best thing I’ve ever had because you are scared, Austin! And I understand how scary it was, believe me, I was there watching you fight a battle in your own mind. But I’m not afraid of you and I never will be. You need to understand that we both need each other and I am good for you whether you choose to believe it or not. You’re jumping to a conclusion either to punish yourself or me because you’re embarrassed that I know this about you now and I will not tolerate it. Last night, you protected me from what you thought was danger even in your flashback. You will not hurt me and I know it.”

I sit there for a minute stunned by what she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’d be happy to tell you everything from my perspective if you could stop trying to dump me and actually have a vulnerable conversation with me like an adult.” She snarks.

Damn, she’s throwing some verbal punches this morning and it’s kinda sexy.

“Alright, I’m listening.” I announce and she takes a deep breath before speaking.

“I woke up to the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut and you running down the stairs. Aika jumped up and seemed concerned so I took her with me as I went downstairs, turning on lights as I went since you still had the house completely in the dark. I heard the backdoor slam open against the wall as you ran out and I held Aika back so I could shut the door until I could determine what was going on. When I turned on the patio lights I saw you run by with a rifle in your hands. I figured you might have heard an animal or intruder or something so I waited for a moment looking through the window before I heard you yelling. It was pouring rain so I struggled to hear you but you didn’t seem to notice the rain. You ran up against the backside of the house and were yelling different words, military lingo I guess, and aiming your rifle around the corner. Aika was going absolutely nuts barking and I almost let her out to get you but I wasn’t sure if your gun was loaded. Instead, I carefully made my way over to you and kept repeating, “It’s Emma, you are safe.” But when I got to you I could tell you were still actively dreaming, if that’s what we are going to call it. Your eyes were almost glassy but when I touched your shoulder, you immediately put your arm around me from behind to protect me and told me to get down and cover my head. You kept placing your body in front of me. I tried talking to you but you just kept asking me if ‘Lowell and Waites’ were still alive. I wasn’t sure what to say but I remembered the conversation that we had the first time I stayed here. I couldn’t get your attention since you were so absorbed in your mission, until I finally grabbed your face with my hands. That’s when you started to come back to me. You protected me from whatever threat you saw, not the opposite.”

I take a steadying breath and try to calm my heart rate. Hearing her talk about something I’ve done during a flashback is strange, because she’s the first to actually witness it and tell me what I did. I guess it’s like sleepwalking, or undergoing anesthesia where you remember specific events but they are different to what actually happened.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not. I hate that you had to go through that in real life, and again in your flashbacks but I’m glad that I was there to see it. I think I understand you a bit more and I want to be there for you.” She says earnestly.

“If you want to apologize for something, you can apologize for trying to dump me.” She says moments later with an attitude.

I can’t help but crack a smile at her gumption. She is something else.

“I’m sorry for trying to dump you.” I whisper and she stands and comes over to sit in my lap. 

“I accept your apology.” She smirks.

“Thank you for refusing to be dumped.” I look intently into her eyes. She kisses me sweetly before tapping my forehead.

“Let me in here. I can handle it, I promise. I want to know everything about you, even the bad stuff.”

“I just… I’ve never let anyone in.”

“Okay, imagine this. What if I kept all of my trauma about Colin from you. I know it’s not the same, but just imagine I didn’t tell you about him stalking me, or why I am the way I am about things. You’d be pretty pissed, right?”

“Obviously.” I tell her. “But that’s because I want to protect you.” 

“Exactly. I feel the same way. Now imagine if I told you that I kept it from you because I just didn’t think you could handle my drama.”

I roll my eyes.

“I never said you couldn’t handle it.”

“But you’ve thought that. Haven’t you?” 

“Maybe” I mutter petulantly.

“You’d be livid with me.” She smirks at me knowing she’s made her point thoroughly.

“Alright. I get it.” I put my hands up in surrender.

“I can handle this and I want to know everything about you. Even the stuff you keep locked away for whatever reason.”

“It’s pretty dark, Sugar. I don’t like thinking about it and I don’t like the idea of you thinking about it.”

“Again, not your decision to make.” She says.

“I decide what’s best for me and what I can handle. I promise you, I can handle this and if you just get that through your thick skull and let me be there for you, we’ll be good as gravy.” She said while thumping my forehead.

“Ow, woman!” I say before I tickle her sides. 

“Fine. I’ll be better about opening up. I just might need your help and your patience because I’ve kept all of my shit buried away essentially my entire adult life.”

“They teach you to do that in the military?” She asks with an eyebrow arched.

“Pretty much.” 

“Well, I’m going to help you undo that.”

“I don’t know that I’m going to like that process.”

“You’ll be fine.” She says before kissing me gently. “I’ll use my sexual prowess if I have too.”

“Seduce me to learn my secrets? You little minx.” She giggles at my joke and I breathe a sigh of relief that we can joke about it at this point.

“Do these flashback episodes happen often?” She asks.

“Nah, this is the biggest one I’ve ever had. I’ve had a few small ones, but nothing this involved before. Maybe once or twice a year before this. It’s usually triggered by something when I’m really tired.”

“What do you think triggered you last night?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say the storm. Likely the thunder was similar to an explosion or something in my dream.” I say quietly and she just nods and strokes my cheek.

“Do you have Nana’s brunch today?”

“Nah, she’s got some clothing drive thing at the church that she’s doing. I’m glad because I don’t need her scrutiny today.”

“Does she know about the episodes?”

“Not really, just always told her it was nightmares. I think PawPaw likely has an idea having been a veteran himself, but he keeps it to himself which I appreciate. I don’t need Nana trying to convince me to join some VA group to talk about my problems.”

“What’s so bad about those groups? I only ask because I have no frame of reference.”

“Nothing, those things are really good for some people but it’s just not for me. I tried once or twice after I retired and felt worse after them. Just not the type to get up in front of strangers and talk about my issues.”

“Survivor’s guilt.” Emma mutters and I glance at her somewhat annoyed.

“Think you’ve got me all figured out then?” I ask haughtily.

“No. Not at all as a matter of fact. I know there’s a lot more that you haven’t shared with me. That’s fine, for now. Just don’t get mad at me for being here for you. I don’t deserve that.” 

My iciness cools immediately and I agree with her. She’s just wanting to be here for me in a way nobody else has ever been.

“I’ll do my best, Darlin’.” I admit while tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“That’s all I can ask for.” She kisses me sweetly.

“What do you want to do today, Sugar? That is if you want to spend the day with me.” I ask her.

“Shut up, of course I do.” She says as she rolls her eyes and I growl at her. 

“Mmm.. I need to go to the grocery store and do some meal prep, but other than that I’m open to whatever.”

“Want to go to the store together? Hell, it certainly wouldn’t hurt me to bring my lunch a few days rather than eatin’ fast food all the time.”

“Ohhh! I love that. I can prep lunches for both of us.” She says excitedly and I can’t help but smirk at her.

“You don’t have to do all that work.” I say, thinking that I can cook my own.

“I really don’t mind. I have to cook mine anyway.”

“Alright, how about this. I buy all the groceries for us, and you cook the meals.”

“No baby, I’m offerin’ to cook for you. I don’t need you to buy my food.”

“Nah, that’s the deal Sugar Pie. Take it or leave it.” She arches her eyebrow at me and I can’t help but chuckle and smack her round little ass.

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Military negotiation training continues to pay off.” I chuckle at her reaction. She attempts to tickle me, but I gently grab each of her wrists effectively handcuffing her hands by her sides. 

“Geez, Sy, I knew you were strong, but damn.” She says as she attempts to wiggle out of my grasp. She doesn’t realize that she’s also wiggling her ass against me and in a matter of moments, she’s going to feel what it’s doing to me.

I let go of her wrists and she acts like she’s done playing before she turns around quickly and shoves her fingers against my ribs. I jolt from the chair sideways as she laughs freely at what she thinks is winning this game.

“Oh, ya wanting to play?” I say with a smirk and when I reach for her she jumps up and takes off running. Before I even realize it, we are giggling like school children as I chase her up the stairs. The dogs are barking wildly and poor Aika has Mills jumping all over her in an attempt to start wrestling. They slowed me down by getting between me and Emma so she got a little bit of a head start. Eventually Aika gives in and the start playfully wrestling in the hallway. I catch her at the top of the stairs, my long legs being no match for her short but fast stature. Emma squeals exuberantly when I pick her up from behind and haul her over my shoulder. She’s panting and I realize I might’ve played too rough so I gently slide her down my body, taking care to be intentional with where I placed my hands.

“Shit! I didn’t think about your period. I didn’t hurt ya did I?” 

She smiles before shaking her head, “it ended last night. You didn’t hurt me baby, but thank you for checking.”

“Well in that case,” I say as I haul her back up on my shoulder, “I’m going to finish what I started.” She squeals again before smacking me on my butt.

I slap her ass that’s now exposed since she was still only in my shirt and grope it gently before throwing her on the bed on her back. I lay beside her on my back as we catch our breaths from our little game of cat and mouse.

“That was fun.” She giggles.

“Sure was.” I turn to her and smile. 

“Now what?”

“Well, I don’t think I’d let you go to the grocery store without pants on, so as much as I hate to, I suggest you get dressed.” I respond as I gently rub my big mitt against the soft skin of her leg.

“Mmm, maybe later. I don’t think I’m done playing.” She admits seductively before gently placing her hand delicately against my clothed cock.

“That so?” I ask her and she nods. My heart starts beating quicker as she begins rubbing against me.

“Right now, I think I’d like to get you undressed.” She says seductively before her hand slides under the hem of my shirt. I lean up and quickly pull it over my shoulders tossing it somewhere in the room. I’m about to lean over on top of her when she pushes me back and her hands slide under the waistband of my shorts and boxers. She grasps my erection firmly before pulling at my shorts and boxers to remove them, so I lift my hips to assist her. Once those are off, Emma begins kissing across my abdomen while simultaneously jerking my throbbing erection. My hands are everywhere and nowhere at once, like an overwhelmed kid given free range in a candy store.

“Fuck, Sugar. What brought all this on?” I rasp as I grab a handful of her ass.

“You trying to dump me.” She says and I pause and look at her concernedly. 

“Gotta remind you what you’d be missing out on.” She smirks before pulling my t-shirt off of her body and exposing her flawless breasts. She immediately pushes them against me and my responding growl has her grinning. Her warm, soft skin rubbing against my torso has me aching to take control and flip her over. Emma’s tiny hand still pumping my cock has me frozen and her gorgeous body, now only clad in a little pink thong has me hypnotized. I can’t stop myself from humping further into her hand as I feel her warm breath slowly making her way up my torso before sucking on my neck.

“Sugar, you’re playing a real dangerous game here.” I warn as she bites and sucks a hickey right above my collarbone. At the same time, I’m so hard that it’s painful and beads of precum are continually leaking from my slit as she uses it for further lubrication towards her ministrations.

Emma sucks on my earlobe before lightly whispering in my ear, “Ah, I like playing games with you.” Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and that’s when my resolve breaks.

Without thinking, I flip Emma over and tear her tiny thong to shreds as I rip in from her body. She gasps with either surprise or overwhelming need but I don’t pay attention as I pull her in for a brutal kiss. She starts to try and take control back by grabbing at my forearms, but I quickly trap both of her arms above her head using one of my hands to secure them. 

“Now who’s in control?” I ask her smugly as I take in her beauty. Her breasts, peaked and heaving from the excitement are so sexy that I ache just from looking at them. Her little belly ring shimmering in the sunlight that streams in from the window somehow makes me even harder.

“Still me. I say stop and I know you’ll immediately discontinue what you’re doing.” She smiles triumphantly.

I smirk at her, because she’s exactly right. She holds all the power here, and I’m damn glad she knows it. Seems she wasn’t able to have that in her last relationship and I’ll do everything in my power to see that she knows she’s in control. 

“You’re exactly right, Darlin’.” I say with a smile and her returning grin stuns me.

“Lucky for you, I like it when you take control and toss me around.” She divulges as she squirms under me and I can’t help but rut against her legs.

“That so?” I ask and she nods dumbly.

“Well ask and you shall receive.” I say before capturing her lips in a messy kiss. I trail my other hand slowly down her body before inserting my middle finger into her core and keen as she moans in pleasure at the intrusion. I pump a few times before adding a second finger and her body arches pleasantly off the bed.

“Fuck, Sy!” Emma shouts as I curl them in search of her g-spot. I grin victoriously when I know I’ve found it based on the reaction of her body. I start worshipping her titties that are so conveniently pressed right in front of my mouth and that seems to spur her on. I’m leaking all over her thigh as I’m so turned on but I need to get her there first.

I’m still holding her arms above her body and that’s how I keep her still as she squirms and moans exuberantly once her first orgasm washes over her. I observe the pure bliss ease across her facial features as she reaches her climax and I can hear the audible squelch of her arousal each time I pump my fingers into her core. After I’m sure to help her through it, I slide my fingers out and wipe the juices along my shaft, squeezing it to release a little bit of pressure as I do. I look at a completely blissed-out Emma as I pump myself a few times before I hear her quietly request, “Fuck me, Captain Syverson. Fuck me hard.” 

I groan before capturing her lips in a filthy kiss before I flip her over. I lift her hips up off the bed and am appreciating the view of her perfect little peach and round delicious ass in the air before she shakes it at me. I smack her ass before sliding in and barely giving her time to recover as I slam into her. 

“Y’okay?” I ask after she gasped loudly and she nodded before pushing herself further back on me. 

I groan and she does it again so I stay there perfectly still for a few moments as I watch the erotic way Emma fucks herself on my cock in doggy style position. Her back is perfectly arched and she flips that mane of hair over her shoulder as she drives herself back on me again. Fuckin’ hell. I can't help myself when I wrap her hair around my fist as I fuck her harder.

My hands are in tight fists as I’m trying to keep from busting a nut so soon after we started but I know I’m not going to last long. I grab ahold of her hips and drive myself into her sopping wet core and focus on getting the angle right. I know I’ve gotten it when I feel her flutter around me. 

“Yeah? Ya like that? Takin’ Sy’s cock all the way up in your tummy? Mmm, mmm, mmm, you look so fucking good like this, Sugar. This perfect ass slamming against me as I fuck that sweet, juicy peach.” I tell her and her moans get louder.

“Tell me, Darlin’. Tell me how it feels.” I probe her.

“Ah! Fuckkk! You feel so good, baby. So big and… and full and deep. Fuckin’ me better than I’ve ever had.” 

“Yeah? This is easily the tightest, tastiest little peach I’ve ever had before. You were made for me. Made to take this cock.” I say and she moans. I slide my hands from her hips and grope her ass before putting my thumb around her tight little ring of muscle.

“You gonna let me in here one day, Sugar?” She clenches all around me and I almost blow my load.

“May…maybe.” She says as I continue to rut into her. I add a bit more pressure with my finger and feel her clamp down on me as her second orgasm ravishes throughout her body. 

“Fuck, Sugar, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. I’m gonna cum.” I tell her and she moans as I piston in and out of her at a quicker pace to reach my high. My balls are heavy and full and I grunt as they tighten to my body when my orgasm washes over me. I still as deeply as I can in her wet heat as I paint her insides with ropes of cum and gently drape myself across her back that is now limp on the bed. 

Emma whimpers as I remove myself from her and I quickly push the leaking cum back into her when it starts to leak out. 

“Y’alright, Sugar?” I ask as she doesn’t move.

“Mmm.” She replies and I don’t know if that’s a yes or a no.

“Fucked you speechless huh?” I chuckle as I stand up and turn on the shower. The sweat dripping down my chest makes me want a cold shower, but I know Emma won’t have that so I get the warm water running before I go back to get her. She’s still completely spread out on the bed on her belly like I left her. I roll her over gently before lifting her up bridal style and carrying her to the bathroom. I set her on the toilet and am shocked that she pees without making me leave the room, but I don’t comment on it. She shuffles over to wash her hands before pulling her hair up into a messy bun. I wash my hands and check the shower temperature before she wraps her arms around me. I’m sweaty but she doesn’t seem to care as she rests her cheek against my chest. I aim the water on us and soap us up cleaning the sweat and the remnants of our tryst from both of our bodies. I kiss her forehead gently and she just smiles and nuzzles further into my chest with her eyes closed. After our shower, I quickly dry her off as well as myself before I clean up the clothes thrown around the room. Her little panties are in shreds and I remind myself to offer to pay for them as I throw them in the wastebasket. 

“You’re awfully quiet.” I voice aloud and she smiles.

“I think I’ve been asleep while standing up that whole shower.” She replies and I chuckle.

“You must’ve been. Didn’t even make me leave the room when you went to pee.” I joke and her eyes snap open in realization. 

“Oh my god, I didn’t. You saw me pee.” She says as she places her face in her hands in embarrassment. 

I laugh loudly because she must’ve not even notice me pee after her while she was washing her hands.

“It’s alright, I won’t tell anyone. I peed while you were washing your hands if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t. I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t even think, your sexpertise made me almost comatose. I claim insanity.” 

“You know I don’t care about that. You could even fart in front of me and I bet it would be adorable.” Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT. That would be mortifying. I would have to move out of the country.” She says dramatically and I laugh.

“You really think that we could live a whole life together, married with babies, grandbabies, and even great grandbabies and I wouldn’t see you pee or hear you fart?” I ask her seriously and am surprised when she shyly smiles.

“You think about us living a whole life together?” Truth time.

“Honestly, yeah. I’ve thought about it a few times. I know it’s early on, but it’s nice to think I’d be capable of having a future like that, and it’s even nicer to imagine it with you. Plus, it’s kind of hard not to when Nana is practically marrying us off in every phone call I have with her.”

Emma’s cheeks blush pink and I’m glad I was honest with her.

“I think that sounds amazing.” She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me and I swear my heart beats for this woman.

Part 12

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood

[siriusleee]

midnight | part 1

Simon Riley x Reader Summary: He’s always been attractive, but at this moment, with the moonlight coming through the window and the gun on the side table, he’s something else entirely.

part one | part two | part three

"Can you do something for me?”

His words freeze you - your fingers barely wrapped around your mug of lukewarm tea. The glow of the computer in the dark of your office illuminates him just enough to see his outline filling up the doorway.

“Excuse you?” Your voice cracks, and you cough to cover up the redness creeping up your chest.

Ghost doesn’t say anything else - instead he holds out something towards you. The light glints against the screen of the cell phone. Confused, you flip it over in your hands, trying to figure out why Ghost just handed you a cell phone.

“I need you to get the information off of it.”

“You know my rule, Ghost. You know I’m not your fucking personal IT department.”

“Just this once, love.”

He stares at you, eyes nearly expressionless. You know that he knows you can’t resist him calling you ‘love’ in that stupid fucking accent of his. He doesn’t move away from your desk, doesn’t take the phone from your hands. His hands tuck into the pockets of his jacket - a stark sight of comfort against his tactical pants and baklava.

“Fine,” you say dropping the phone down beside your keyboard, “but I demand payment. I do have a job and a life outside of you, so if you want it done before I go on leave tomorrow, you’re paying up.”

“What do you want?”

“A coffee. Not one you made - I don’t want to drink battery acid. A real one from Starbucks or something.”

Ghost grumbles; you turn your eyes away from him and back to your work on the computer - Price’ll have your head if you don’t have everything squared away and finished before you go home tomorrow.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to get something like that at this time of night.”

You shrug, shifting in your chair so you can tuck your legs into the seat.

“Not my problem. You bring me payment, I’ll do it for you. Otherwise get out of my damn office.”

When he comes back with the largest possible Starbucks cup, you almost think about asking which Starbucks he held up to get a drink at the hour, but you get the feeling that he’s not in the mood for humor. When you take the cup from him, you already have the phone connected to your personal computer - unsure if there’s anything on there that he wouldn’t want multiple government agencies to see.

“There’s no nudes on here right? No sex tapes or anything?” You ask as he drops to the floor beside your chair, back pressed against the wall.

“Why do you need to know?” His voice is quiet - you can hear him trying to edge towards that monotone playfulness that he has - but there’s no force behind it tonight.

“Just making sure that I don’t accidentally see your dick - it’s not exactly the ideal way to see it is it? Anyway, is there anything I’m supposed to be looking for or do you just need everything put on a flash drive? I got a million of them around here. ”

“A flash drive is fine.”

It’s quiet except for the sounds of the wind outside, and Ghost breath behind his mask.

“You know-” you start, just to break the silence, “you could have taken this to like, the store you got it from, and they could have does this for you right.”

Ghost doesn’t speak for a moment - weighing his words before he does.

“I don’t trust random people.”

“So there is sex tapes on here. With who could it be so important that you have to make sure you save them from a dead phone?”

Your joking - teasing him; his silence makes you glance over at him. His head is leaning against the wall, eyes closed. He must know you’re looking at him because he answers you without moving.

“It has pictures of my family.”

His tone opens up a million questions, but gives you a million answers. You can hear the rest of his sentence, unspoken but loud enough to bounce around the walls of your small office. Don’t ask .

It doesn’t take long to finish transferring the files to the flash drive and hand it over to Ghost. He leans towards you, never leaving his spot on the floor.

“Is that everything?"

"Are you going to work here all night?"

"Are you going to stay here all night?"

You turn your chair around towards him, foot dropping down between his boots to stop yourself from spinning away from him.

"Nothing else to do around here."

You know he doesn't sleep much - the amount of times he's been in the same spot, the sound of your keyboard lulling him to sleep before you finally kicked him out so you could go to sleep is unfathomable. You sigh, pulling your foot back up into your chair, brushing against his calf as you do so.

"I'm almost done anyway, and I have to get some sleep before I catch my flight tomorrow. You want to watch a movie?"

He cracks one eye open at you.

"Is that a fucking line?"

You can't help it - the tone he asks it in makes you bark out a laugh.

"No, it's not a line. I'm just trying to be nice."

"It sounds like you're trying to lure me back to your bunk to get my pants off."

You roll your eyes as you switch off your computer, the office plunging into darkness.

"Ghost, if I wanted to get your pants off, I could do it without a Netflix and chill session."

When the two of you reach your room, you blush at the mess. You're one of the few civilians who get to live on base full time - you've collected more crap than the average soldier who never knows how long they'll be assigned to live here. In a whirlwind, you'd thrown everything around the room trying to figure out what you needed for a two week trip home. You're not entirely sure, but Ghost strikes you as the type of person to live by cleanliness being close to godliness.

He doesn't say anything, instead pointing at the television stationed on top of your dresser, among bottles of perfume and make up.

"How'd you get that?"

"Oh you know, I get special privileges and all."

Ghost hums at you as you snatch up a ratty t-shirt and shorts from a pile on the floor.

"Turn around so I can change. And don't try to sneak any peeks."

He turns, ever a gentleman, and you change as quickly as possible, throwing your clothes into the corner. You settle onto the bed before Ghost turns back around. You pat the edge of the bed beside you, your hands faltering as you do. It's suddenly hit you how intimate this entire situation is, how this would be taken if anyone were to just walk in.

"You can sit up here, or you can lay on the floor. It's up to you."

You can see Ghost's eyes roam the floor, the mess, your suitcases that aren't zipped up. Slowly, like he's realizing the intimate nature of this situation, he lowers himself down to a sitting position beside you. His bends over, you can hear him working at the laces of his boots before he kicks them off and lines them up neatly beside the bed. His hands reach up to the small of his back; he pulls a gun out from underneath his jacket and places it lightly on your side table. The movement is strangely intimate, the sight of his gloved hand on the gun in the moonlight coming through the small window is enough to make your stomach flip.

You try to push the thoughts out of your head, focusing instead on the movie you’ve picked out. It’s some dumb action flick that you’ve seen a million times before, but it’s something to do, something to pay attention to other than the feeling of Ghost's thigh against yours. Ghost doesn’t seem to mind, and you can feel his eyes heavy on you. You pretend not to notice as you settle back against the pillows, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

You’ve seen this movie a million times before, but you don’t really pay attention to it. Instead, you steal glances at Ghost out of the corner of your eye whenever you think he’s not looking. He’s always been attractive, but at this moment, with the moonlight coming through the window and the gun on the side table, he’s something else entirely. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and try to focus on the movie, but it’s no use. You’re acutely aware of every move he makes, every breath he takes, and you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be closer to him.

You don't know you've fallen asleep, until Ghost shifts beside you, waking you. You feel his tactical pants under your leg, in your sleep you've hooked your leg over his, your hand snaking across his stomach.

You try to pull away from him, but he reaches out to grip your wrist in his hand, calluses warm against your soft skin.

When Ghost speaks, you can tell he's not looking at you - the light in the room enough for you to see his face is turned away from you.

"Tell me to leave." His voice is rough, low.

"Ghost I-"

"My name is Simon."

He turns, forcing you to shift onto your back. Ghost - Simon - hovers above you, looking down at you finally. Your pinned under the weight of his gaze, a heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. He's so large above you - just like you'd imagined when you-

"Tell me to leave. Please."

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, he presses into your harder, his grip on your wrist tighter. You know there will be a bruise there tomorrow.

"Why should I tell you that?" Your voice is syrup thick, you bend your knee, trying to push yourself closer to Simon.

You can't see his face in the dark, but you can see his thoughts in his eyes, trying to figure out what to say, what to do.

You reach up with your spare hand, brushing your fingers against his jaw. Simon jerks back, pulling away from you, and dropping your hand. Before you can push yourself up in bed, Simon is gone, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

[multific]

Arranged

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Warning: Smut

Summary: Simon had to marry you so you wouldn't be sent back to your country, where your death was certain. But neither of you was prepared to fall in love.

When Captain Price came up with the idea, Ghost nearly doubled over. He had to check his pulse to make sure he didn't die.

And surely enough, Simon wasn't dead.

But soon, he would be a married man.

“Captain, with all due respect-”

"You don't understand Ghost, if we send her back, she is sure to die. They will hunt her down. They are trying to find her even now, she will be safe with you. I believe in you, Simon." John's words kept ringing in his ears. 

Even as he signed the papers. 

Even when he drove you to his place.

He didn’t believe this was happening.

You behaved like a shy little dove. Simon had seen many people like you. He had saved people like you. And yet, he had a strange feeling in his chest when he realized he would need to keep you safe.

He needed to protect you.

Upon seeing you for the first time, you were small. Small and beautiful as Simon was able to tell at first glance.

Price explained to him why they were looking for you and who you were, but it truly didn't matter to Simon. 

You and him were married now.

You were in his home.

You were his wife and while Simon understood your marriage didn't have to be real, he still felt a sense of responsibility. 

He offered you some food and tea which you kindly accepted.

He even turned one of his rooms into a small bedroom for you.

Simon Riley was a big and scary man.

You heard about him from Price. You knew he had done many things, good and bad. But you never expected him to be this kind.

Not only did he agree to marry you, he brought you into his home and even gave you a bedroom. He made sure the water was warm when you wanted to take a bath, food was always in the fridge. He even asked you what foods you liked.

You knew you couldn't go back, but you never expected your life to turn out this well.

He was even kind enough to give you breakfast the next morning. How nice is that?

He wore a mask around you, and never ate in front of you. But he did often stayed as you ate.

You noticed his eyes were empty. No emotion behind it. It was as if he died a long time ago and he was now only a shell of the man he used to be. 

You wondered what happened.

But you knew better than to sneak around.

You were grateful for his help, you didn't want to be disrespectful. 

Simon was surprised at just how easy-going you were, despite the circumstances. 

He found you more and more smiling as you watched something on TV. Simon knew his place, knew his role, he knew he shouldn't but he found himself staring at you more and more often.

He found you absolutely cute.

The way you would be all shy around him, the way you would still go and hand him a mug of tea or coffee every morning.

You wouldn't talk too much either. You never tried to force a conversation.

Simon itched to know more about you. He wanted to know you and your story.

And you wanted the same, you wanted to know more about the man whom you lived with. 

But you knew better than to ask, Price explained to you that Simon was a rather secretive person, and you respected that. But you still wanted to know.

One late evening, you were in your room, scrolling through some websites, trying to find some dresses since spring just began and you needed some new things.

Simon opened the door and your eyes met.

"I wanted to check if you were sleeping. Did you have a shower already?" he asked and you shook your head.

"Not yet, I lost track of time."

"No problem, I'll go now, you can come after I'm done."

"Alright, thank you." you offered him a smile. With one last nod, he left.

You heard the shower turn on.

When the shower was off, you waited for a good five minutes before emerging with your bathing stuff.

As you opened the door, however, the bathroom wasn't free.

Simon stood there only wearing his boxers, face uncovered and you felt terrible but you let your eyes wander for only a second before quickly turning and closing the door.

"I'M SORRY!" you yelled before rushing back to your room.

Needless to say, you didn't shower that night. 

You barely slept that night.

All you could think of was him.

You feared he might send you away, violating his personal space wasn't what you intended.

But at the same time, you couldn't help but think, how amazing he looked.

He was very very handsome and had those muscles. Sure, he had scars but the muscles and the tattoos on his arms... You were both scared and horny at the same time.

The next morning, you sat by the table with fear.

You honestly had a feeling he would make you leave his home and you wouldn't blame him for it.

You were rather surprised when his first words to you weren't 'pack your things and leave'. 

You two had breakfast like any other day.

By the end of it, you felt like you would burst at any moment, and you couldn't hold it in any longer.

So, as he turned to go to the living room, you spoke up.

"I-I'm sorry for yesterday!" he turned around and looked at you. "I thought you were already done and... I didn't mean to walk in on you. I'm sorry, please don't send me away."

"Send you away?" he spoke up after a couple seconds.

"Yes, I would totally understand if you wanted me to leave."

"I don't want you to leave. It was an accident, I could see it in your face. You weren't creeping on me or anything."

"I wasn't! I promise I wasn't!"

"Alright, I forgive you then. It was only a matter of time anyway." you looked at him rather confused, and then he reached up and removed his mask, you looked away from him and you heard him laugh a little.

"Am I that ugly?"

"Quite the opposite." your reply was probably way too fast and way too honest and you were thankful he couldn't see your face. You wanted to stand up and run to your room. You stood but you couldn't move.

"Y/N..." you heard him say your name and he sounded so close. You felt his hand reach around you as he pulled you close by your waist. He then turned your head with his other hand.

Locking your eyes with his, you kept staring into his gorgeous eyes.

"Simon... I-" you found yourself leaning into his touch as his finger ran down your face, his thumb playing with a small scar next to your eye. His eyes held so many questions, and you could finally see life behind them. 

"Are you scared of me?" he asked, and you didn't need to think before you replied.

"No. I'm not scared. I'm only nervous."

"Nervous? Why?" his hold tightened around you and you smiled.

"I am nervous because I don't know if you feel the same way I do." he only nodded once before he leaned in to capture your lips with his. 

“I do feel the same way.”

It was a short kiss, you could tell he was testing the waters, but it gave you the confidence you needed. 

You grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a deep and passionate kiss.

The two of you got lost in the moment. Only pulling away to breathe, you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the living room and onto the couch. He wasted no time in laying you down before he towered over you. 

Item by item your clothes left your bodies but your kisses never stopped.

It was as if with each clothing he pulled off, he placed twice as many kisses onto your skin.

His name became a mantra that you could only moan. Your hands roamed up and down his perfect back muscles as he groaned.

And as he was pushing into your, praising you at how good you felt around him, he whispered into your ear.

"My beautiful little wife is taking me so well." it made your legs shake. 

"Turn around, sweetheart." you didn't need to be told twice as you found yourself on your knees, leaning against the back of the couch.

You felt his fingers play with your folds as he sighed.

"You look stunning, fucking hell." he slapped your ass, making you let out a yelp.

He pushed inside once more. With this position, everything became more intense. Previously, it was about love but both of you were seeking your release. 

He grabbed your hips as he started to pull you back to meet his trust, but soon he didn't have to.

It felt so good, you started to move on your own. He leaned over your back, kissing and biting your skin as he groaned and moaned. One of his hand reaching one of your breasts, playing with your nipple.

"Fuck, Darling." he said as he looked down, the wet noises which filled the room gave him confidence, knowing you enjoyed this as much as he did.

"Simon... please don't stop, I'm going to come." and he didn't. He kept his rhythm and his movements. Knowing one off movement could ruin it for you. 

He was close. Really close but he wanted to feel you come first before he would fill you up.

He leaned over once more, grabbing your face as he turned it to kiss you.

"Fuck." he whispered into your ear and it made you come undone. Your body shook a little but he held you in place as he moved a little before he too, finished. He pushed inside you as far as he could. You swore you could feel his huge cock in your belly.

He groaned before catching his breath.

He placed one last kiss on your spine before pulling out. You could feel his come escape you but soon, two of his fingers pushed it back in.

"Don't waste it, Sweetheart." you could hear the smirk in his voice.

Soon, you calmed down and headed for the shower, he followed you closely as he washed your back and kissed you under the shower. 

Simon had to marry you so you wouldn't be sent back to your country, where your death was certain. But neither of you was prepared to fall in love. Not that any of you were complaining. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[withwritersblock]

Love You Goodbye

~Love You Goodbye by One Direction~

Author's Note: listen it started out as something else and then it became the song by one direction. as always italics are flashbacks Summary: Kirby and Y/N break up Warnings: shouting, swearing, implied smut Word Count: 1,491 Kirby Dach x fm!reader

It had been a miserable few days. He was staying with Cole instead of his own apartment with his girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, he wasn’t sure which one she was. Cole walked into his kitchen, yawning dramatically as he stretched his arms out. 

“You’re still on my couch,” Cole rasped out as he walked towards his coffee maker on the counter. Kirby forced a smile as he sat up, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“You said I could stay as long as I need,” Kirby mumbled as he took a sharp breath. 

Cole chuckled dryly before he spoke, “I said that because I thought you’d come to your senses and go back to your girlfriend.” Cole pulled two mugs from his cabinet as he started the pot of coffee. Kirby clenched his jaw. “I mean have you even tried to talk to her?”

He tilted his head back against the couch as he held the phone against his ear, hearing it ring and ring for the fifth time that morning. He clenched his jaw as he heard her voicemail again. He rolled his eyes as he clenched his jaw. After the beep he let out, “Baby, please-please call me back. Can we just talk?” 

“Yes, I’ve called her a thousand times and left like ten voicemails. She’s the one who hasn’t returned my calls.” Kirby countered as he ran his fingers through his hair. He tilted his head back as he watched Cole walk towards the couch with two mugs in his hand.

“Aren’t you the one that picked a fight?” Cole said as he handed Kirby the Suzuki mug. Kirby took it and rolled his eyes. “You started the argument and left, she has no reason to call you back,” Cole countered. Kirby took a sip of the coffee.

“Are you going to practice today?” she asked as she mixed the protein pancake batter she was making for themselves. Kirby shrugged his shoulders as he kept his gaze on his phone. “I’m sure the guys want to see you,” 

“I’m not in the mood,” he mumbled as he tossed his head back. She stared towards him, furrowing her eyebrows harshly.

“Do you have any one-on-one work today?” she asked as she poured some batter on the pan. 

“Not today, I’m gonna shower, I’ll eat later,” he snapped as he stood up from the couch.

“What is going on with you?” she questioned. He huffed as he rolled his eyes.

“I’m tired of you breathing down my neck! I don’t need you smothering me!” he shouted as he shook his head. She blinked rapidly as she nodded her head.

“I’m just trying to help you!” she countered.

“I don’t need your help, alright?! I’m tired of you asking every day how I am feeling, or if I’m going to practice or if I am feeling stronger! I’m so tired of everything coming out of your mouth being about the injury.”

“It’s all that’s on your mind, isn’t it?!” she shouted back, turning the stove off, “You are not you anymore! I’m sorry that I am trying to get my boyfriend back!”

“That’s such bullshit, just say that you don’t want me unless I’m playing!” he shouted walking towards her. She shook her head as she let out a breathy laugh. 

“Oh come on, Kirby! Do you really think that?” she said as she felt tears fill her eyes, “Do you seriously think that I am that shallow?!” 

“I don’t know! I mean all you ever talk about is how my damn leg is feeling!” 

“Has the thought ever crossed your mind that maybe I fucking care about you?! Maybe I just keep asking you about it because I know that is what is on your mind twenty-four-seven!” she shouted back. 

“It is on my mind all the fucking time, so maybe shut up about it!” he countered. 

She clenched her jaw as she met his gaze and felt her tears fall onto her cheek, “You know what, I will shut up about it. I want you gone,” she mumbled as she took a step towards him, scanning his features. 

“What?” he asked barely above a whisper. 

“Go stay with Cole or Nick or whoever! I don’t care!” she shouted again. 

“She asked me to leave,” Kirby said to Cole as he took another sip of coffee. Cole rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you said she was smothering you,” Cole let out. Kirby took a sharp breath as his phone started vibrating beside him. He panicked as he reached for his phone to see Y/N was calling him back.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he mumbled as he carefully placed the mug on the coffee table as he stood up bringing the phone to his ear, “Hey, I’m so sorry,” he muttered walking towards Cole’s bedroom to get some privacy.

“Hey, I’ve got my stuff packed up; you can come back to-”

“What-what are you talking about?” he asked as he felt his heart slamming against his chest. “What are you packing your stuff up for?”

“Kirby, I’m tired of being your punching bag when things go bad. I’m done,” she let out teary eyed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, please don’t leave. Stay there, I’ll be right there and we can talk about it-”

“Kirby-”

“Please, let me make it up to you.” he begged as he walked out of Cole’s bedroom quickly. He reached for his keys on the counter as well as the slides sitting besides the front door. “I promise, just let me make it up to you, please,” 

“Kirby, I can’t. I can’t do this again-”

“It’ll be the last time, I’m sorry-”

“I can’t,” Y/N said before she hung up the phone. 

“Y/N, no-” he muttered as he pulled the phone away from his ear. “Fuck,” he mumbled. 

~~~

He walked into his apartment, teary eyed with the bag he brought over to Cole’s apartment. He clenched his jaw as he dropped his bag beside the counter, he lifted his gaze to see Y/N sitting on the couch. “Y/N, you’re still here,” he mumbled, breathy feeling his chest tighten. He walked quickly towards her as he sat down beside her. She lifted her head from her hands. 

“I was going to leave,” she let out while shaking her head, “And then I saw this,” she mumbled as she pointed towards the picture frame.

It was a photo of them on his draft day. He was wearing the Blackhawks jersey over his suit and the blackhawks hat on his head. He had a wide grin on his face as he was holding up the number three. He was squeezing her tightly to his side as she was squinting her eyes tightly with a wide smile. 

“I asked you to move to Chicago with me,” he muttered before he pressed his lips together. “And you did,” he hummed. She nodded her head slightly as her lips quivered. “I got traded to Montreal and you dropped everything to come with me,” he let out barely above a whisper. 

She met his gaze, his eyes were teary as he inched closer to her. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. 

“I know,” she mumbled as he hesitantly raised his hand and took a hold of her cheek. She tilted her head into his hand as she looked into his eyes. She leaned towards him and delicately kissed him. Her body straightened as she relaxed with his lips attached to hers. She adjusted her frame as she climbed onto his lap. Their lips remained connected as he cautiously ran his hands over her hips.

She pulled away as she rested her forehead against his, as their breath quickened. “Kirby,” she muttered as her lips quivered.

“I know,” he mumbled as he looked over her features. Her eyes stared towards his lips as she ran her thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said before he tilted his head back.

She rested both of her hands on his neck, “It was the best five years of my life, Kirby,” she said with a sad smile. He nodded.

“Mine too, I don’t know if I could’ve survived it without you,” he muttered as he looked deeply into her eyes. The last five years flashing in his mind. Moving in together at just eighteen. The countless injuries and the shock of the trade to Montreal. Moving to a place where they barely speak the language. The love they shared poured out in one moment. 

“One more,” she let out as her lips were brushing against Kirby’s. He urgently kissed her back, His hands holding her head in place as she grinded her hips against him. He was kissing her with so much passion and need that it felt like the world was ending. And maybe it was.

[littlemissmarvelous]

Ruins

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

If you have any sort of triggers regarding SA or have PTSD DO NOT READ.

I went through something a few years ago and I’ve been plagued with it a lot recently and so I tried to write it out to relieve my PTSD.

Your skin felt grimy.

Bile was in your throat threatening to spill from your mouth.

Your heart lies within your stomach in pieces.

The trip home from the solo mission was full of you not facing the reality of the situation. What they did. Even at the thought of them, the tears sting your eyes and your chest is tight and all of a sudden you can feel every single forced touch.

You rushed to your room as soon as your jet landed, disarming and stripping yourself of your blood soaked clothes. You’re numb as you subconsciously drag yourself into the bathroom and turn on the tub to watch the hot water rise. Sinking into it, you feel your muscles relax but your insides are still a mess. Your eyes travel to your skin and it’s like their fingerprints are everywhere painting your skin.

next thing you know your skin is red and raw and you’re holding the loofah. you shudder as tears stream down your face silently.

you find your face in the mirror in front of you, a stranger stares right back.

Days blend together as you find yourself staying in your room rather than visiting with the team but you can’t seem to care if they noticed. You couldn’t find yourself caring about anything lately really. Steve noticed this and took you off missions to see if he could maybe get a reaction out of you. To his dismay, you simply shrugged and retreated right back to your room. Him and Nat shared concerned glances with each other and Bucky stared after you with concern. You hadn’t spoken much about the mission, just simply handed them the drive and muttered, “mission complete”.

The break from missions gave you even more time to fall deeper into the hole you were digging yourself and you were too tired to stop yourself. You were a stranger to yourself and now your friends. The eyes in the mirror were not your own, but the pain they held was all that was left of you. Your knives stayed in their sheaths, your books in the shelf, your pen and journal in their drawer. A ghost has began to reside where you once did as more and more of yourself died.

How many days had passed? was it weeks? you weren’t sure. it was all a blur as you walked mindlessly through the tower. Eyes fell upon you and you knew they were curious but you couldn’t open your mouth to explain why.

you weren’t ready yet.

would you ever be?

You’re making yourself coffee when he says your name.

“Y/n.” Steve says sternly.

Your grip tightens on your mug but you do not turn. “Yes Steve?”

“what is going on with you lately? what’s wrong with you?” He asks and you know he’s frustrated. You have to remind yourself he doesn’t know.

“i’m fine.” you simply reply and give your signature shrug.

This however made steve MAD.

“Fine?! You were barely training, your missions became sloppy, you haven’t been talking to any of your teammates! You could have gotten yourself or any one of us killed on those missions if you had gone, you weren’t even trying at training!”

you know he wants a rise out of you. you know he wants you to show that you care but you’re so numb that you simply stand their and take his rant. He was right. Nat is staring at you worried from the couch and Bucky finds himself gravitating towards you to comfort you.

“Seriously y/n, do you not even care? about us? about being an avenger? Maybe we made a mistake making you one of us. Maybe you don’t belong here.” Steve seethes.

The last straw inside you breaks.

“I was FUCKING RAPED STEVE! Is that what you wanted to hear?!” You explode and he stares at you in shock, eyes wide. “Did you want me to tell you how they forced themselves upon me and i can’t get the disgusting feeling of their hands off my skin? or how they cut my skin if I tried to fight back? Or maybe you wanted to hear how they loved when I screamed in pain until I was sobbing? Or MAYBE you wanted me to tell you how i can’t even fucking look in the mirror anymore without seeing how utterly broken I am. Is that it? is that enough of a fucking reaction that you wanted out of me?” Your chest is heaving and your cheeks are wet with tears, the room silent after your outburst.

It’s then you realize just how many people now know happened to you. You quickly turn to run out of the room, only to slam into Bucky.

“Doll i’m so-“he begins.

“just leave me ALONE!” you yell and let your feet carry you to your room where you immediately shut and lock the door before screaming your lungs out.

The truth was out. they knew how dirty you were. How disgraced and disgusting you felt. Broken. Useless.

Your scream echoed so loud you’re sure the whole compound could hear it.

There’s a knock at your door and you freeze. No no no, you weren’t ready for this yet. The pity was not something you wanted to experience right now.

“Y/N, it’s me, Nat.” Her voice travels through the door, “I know you might not want to talk to us but I just want you to listen to me for a little bit okay? can I come in?”

Your brain screamed at you to not let her in. Solitude will heal, it yelled. Nobody wants to hear about what happened. What were you supposed to say anyways? How weak you were? You couldn’t hear anyone tell you how this was your fault…it would surely break whatever you had left. You cover your mouth as a sob escapes your mouth and your heart clenches in pain.

“I can’t. I can’t.”

You hope she hears the whimpers because you can’t find it in you to speak anymore. Sinking down to the floor you let silent tears stream down your cheeks as you heard her steps take her body away from your door. You hated that you were pushing away your best friend but you couldn’t let anyone near you, get close to you. Not yet.

Two days later another knock at the door.

“Go away, please…” you call.

“Y/n? It’s Dr. Cho…I need to examine you, if that’s okay. I want to make sure you don’t have any lasting injuries from…the incident. It’s just me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath before dragging yourself to your door and opening it a crack. “You promise you’re alone?”

Helen nods with a warm small smile and you step to the side and open the door more to let her in, closing the door and locking it after she passes you.

She sets her medical back on your chair and looks around to see the best place to examine you and you’re suddenly aware your room was a catastrophe. You hang your head in embarrassment and apologize quickly, “I’m sorry for the mess Helen…it’s been a rough few days.”

She shakes her head and reassures you, “It’s okay, how about we clear off a space on the bed and set up there?”

You simply nod and quickly strip the bed of the excess mess so Helen can lay out what she needed. She softly tells you to strip down from the waist down, not trying to upset you. Your hands shakily strip and take the sheet from the doctor hands that she offers you.

“Just lay back and relax okay? I will be as quick as I can.”

You nod and close your eyes as she begins the exam, tears silently starting to leak out as you realize she is going to know the full extent of what happened. The damage. Ten minutes later she hands you your bottoms back and writes a few things down before facing you again. Her eyes were sad as she grabbed your hand.

“I am so sorry that this happened to you, y/n. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I’m going to leave a card for a really great therapist, okay? Use it only when you’re ready.”

I nod at her words, unable to find enough air in my lungs to form words. Her caring words just made you want to cry more, made it more real. You find yourself staring into space as her figure disappears and you hear your door close. Mumbled voices on the other side of the door, one you recognized distinctly as bucky.

“Please Helen, how is she? Can I see her?” He begs.

Helen shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid you can’t Sergeant Barnes. She needs space and time to heal, and to be frank…I don’t think she wants any…male attention right now.”

Turning her head to Tony who stood a few feet away with his eyes glued to the floor and hands in his pocket. “Tony, can I speak to you and Dr. Banner alone?”

Tony simply nods and sends a quick text to Bruce to let him know to meet them in his office. Once gathered, Helen shut the door, locked it, and turned to the two men. Before she could speak Tony interrupts, “before you start… I think it’s best Nat be in attendance. If this is about y/n, then another woman should be present so she can be more helpful.”

Helen nods and unlocks the door, opening it to see Nat already standing there. Giving here a sad subtle smile, Nat walks In and Helen locks the door once again. Now facing the three she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she spoke, “After further examination of Agent (y/l/n), it’s come to my attention that her injuries were far more severe than I thought.”

“How bad?” Nat asks shakily.

When Helen’s eyes open, they’re full of tears. “I don’t want to go into exact details but the damage done was significantly extensive. The scarring is…immense. I could potentially help heal with the cradle but she is no where near ready for that. I’m afraid her mind is what took the most damage. I left her Doctor Raynors card for her but I’m not sure when or if she’s going to be up to it.”

Tony sighs and let’s his face fall into his hands. “So what do we do now?”

“Now you just let her know you’re there and wait for her to be ready. Dr. Banner you should run routine check ups on her, her nutrition is below what I would like for her. Agent Romanoff can help you with that,” She turned to face Nat, “You’re one of the only women here so you are going to be better at getting close to her than anyone else. She’s going to need you.”

Nat nods as tears slowly paint her cheeks and nails dig into her palms. Bruce places a hand on her back in comfort while he tries to keep his own cool.

After Helen leaves and it’s just the three remaining, a angsty silence fills the room. They knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but their hurting hearts wanted to save you from the abyss that was swallowing you whole.

One week passed.

Nat knocked every day, no answer. Friday ran a health check as best she could. Bucky slept on the floor just outside your door just in case you needed him.

Two weeks passed.

Nat knocked every day, no answer. Friday kept running health checks as best she could. Buckys back was feeling it from the sleeping on the floor. But it was worth it if you might need him. Even if you hadn’t called for him.

The third week came.

Nat knocked every day.

It was a Wednesday when you finally opened the door. Nat had to keep her face from falling at the sight of you. Face pale, eyes dead with bags under them from no sleep, and she could tell you had lost weight in an alarming way.

Smiling weakly you say, “Hey Nat. Come in.”

You open the door wider and step to the side to let her past. As you do your eyes find bucky on the floor and your heart aches but you can’t bring yourself to call to him. Not yet.

Closing the door behind you, you sigh and turn to face her. “I know it probably is a mess in here for you and I look terrible I really apologize.”

Nats voice trembles as she asks, “can I hug you? Is that okay?”

Your face pales even more but you nod with a gulp and the next thing you knew the redheads arms were encasing your frame.

“Don’t ever apologize for anything, okay? If anything I’m sorry you had to go through all of it. I know you know that I understand what you went through more than anyone else here. So I want you to know that I’m here throughout it all, okay? You aren’t alone in this. You never have to be alone again.” Her tears are wetting your shirt as she speaks just like you know you’re now wetting hers.

Sobs wrack your body as you cling to your best friend for dear life. “No matter what I do I keep seeing it. Feeling it. I can’t escape it! I feel their touches like they were burned into my skin and it makes me sick…and scared. I wasn’t strong enough to stop them, they kept telling me I was weak over and over. And you know what? They’re right. I couldn’t protect myself. What good am I to the team at that point?”

Her arms grip you tighter at your words, holding your shaking body as the sobs kept coming before leaning back to be able to grab your face to force you to meet her eyes. “You are the best teammate we have, do you understand me? This is not your fault and it doesn’t say anything about who you are or what you can do. This does not define you. Ask anyone, y/n, they will tell you that you’re the most kind, skilled, and strongest agent we have. They were the weak ones, not you. Do not forget that…Please don’t forget that.”

You simply close your eyes as more tears cascade down your now rosy cheeks. “I just don’t know what I did to deserve this. I keep asking myself why over and over and I just…I can’t.”

“Some people are just evil. The world unfortunately holds some truly vile people who want to steal your light. But you can’t let them win. And if you need any help keeping that light alive then please do not hesitate to come to me or anyone here. Please.” Nats begging at this point and you can’t help but sob more at your incredibly supportive friend. You were so grateful, the shame you felt melting away as you finally had someone who understood and supported you in a way none else ever could.

“I love you, Nat. You really are my best friend.” You sniffle as you admit with a small smile. It felt good to smile for once.

“I love you too, kid. You already know you’re my best friend too,” Nat admits with a matching smile before continuing, “I just have to ask though…you do have a massive super soldier sleeping outside of your room the past few weeks that has been worried sick…are you ready to see him? If not it’s okay and I’ll tell him. We don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

At the mention of bucky your heart squeezed tightly and you swear you almost lose all the air in your lungs. You hadn’t had even processed that yet! How he would react was your biggest concern. Would he hate you? Would he be disgusted? Would he break up with you?

Sensing your distress Nats eyes go wide as she exclaimed, “it’s okay! I’ll tell him no. Y/n I swear it’s okay.”

You shook your head despite the anxiety that had consumed you. “No, no I need to talk to him. It’s okay. Please send him in.”

She nods and replies, “okay , just holler if you change your mind okay?”

You nod and watch as she walks to the door and steps out. A bunch of murmurs before your hear him loudly get up quickly and rush into the doorway of your room.

You stood with your arms around your torso in attempt to hold yourself together as you felt his gaze go over you. Eyes glued to the ground, your breaths were ragged as the silence plagued the air.

“Doll…”Bucky calls out, his voice heavy with emotion but raspy from sleep.

At the sound of his voice you break into a whole new level of sobs. Rushing to your side he reaches out and almost touches your skin, but instantly realizes before yanking them back.

Your brain automatically channels this as him being disgusted by you which fuels your sobs even more. “I’m so sorry,” you cry out, “I’m so fucking sorry. You think I’m revolting.”

What? Bucky thinks to himself. He couldn’t believe those words left your mouth. Tears pooled in his eyes and he let out a ragged breath before saying, “please don’t say that, doll. You have no reason to be sorry. This isn’t your fault. Do you hear me?” He takes a careful step closer to you to bring himself within arms distance between you. “This isn’t your fault. It never has been.”

Your arms wrap tighter around your torso like you’re trying to keep the pieces together and to prevent him from seeing that if you let go, you’d fall to pieces all over the hardwood floor beneath your feet. Your chest is tight as you try to contain your sobs but they continue to rip you apart piece by piece. “They ruined me for you, bucky. I can’t…you won’t want me anymore.” You cry.

His tears are now waterfalls upon his cheeks as his heart is being torn to shreds at your words. “No, no, no… please don’t talk like that. I will never not want you…can I…can I hold you?”

You’re unsure but find yourself nodding. It was difficult at first but as his arms wrapped around you and held you close it felt like glue was being poured within your cracks and your wounds were temporarily numbed.

“You are the most important thing in my life. Compared to you, the missions, the job, heck even the world are nothing. Meaningless to me because if I didnt have you I can promise you I would be the most miserable man in the universe. What happened to you was traumatic and terrible and I am so incredibly sorry I wasn’t able to protect you this time. But that doesn’t make you any less beautiful, any less amazing, any less perfect to me…” leaning back, he put a finger underneath your Chin to raise your eyes to his, “I love you and I will love you forever, through every timeline that exists. It will always be you. So please understand that no matter what happens, you are my person and I’m here for it all. The bad, the good, the ugly. I promise I will be here to help you through this is the ways that I can and give you whatever space you need when you need it.”

His words found home in you as your arms released your middle and inch by inch encircled his before squeezing him tight. No words were spoken for a while as you simply held each other and cried.

A while later you both sat on the floor by your bed side by side in silence. It was comforting and simply something you didn’t know you needed from him until now.

Turning your head to him you say , “I’ve been told we are going to share the same therapist these days.”

Bucky turned his head to look at you and smiles, “I’m glad you’re taking up the offer. I’m proud of you. She might be a pain in the ass for you though.”

You raise your eyebrow, “more than you?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close. “I’ll take being a pain in your ass any day. My favorite job.”

You shake your head with a small smile. You didn’t know how you were going to heal from this but you know that between Nat, Bucky, and the others…you would get there one day. You weren’t alone.

[goomens]

I've had an idea but I won't get around to writing it think.. I imagine Crowley being drunk on wine, taking to Nina after *the event* and just word vomiting, telling her everything about who he is. And then Nina ist like "so when you said 'angel' you actually meant..." maybe you can do something with that? 😂

such a cute idea!!! fic under the cut <3

It’s nine in the morning and Nina is jolted from her sleepy reverie by the violent tinkle of the front door bell; a figure in black slithering into a nearby seat and thunking his head down onto the table. Crowley, she thinks, watching him carefully from behind the counter. Without Mr. Fell in tow, tense around the shoulders, and creating quite a sad display, she feels a pang of something like pity inside her chest.

“Gretel,” Nina calls quietly to one of her newer baristas after a moment of consideration, “Take over for a bit, please?” And she makes her way over to Crowley, not bothering to say hello as she pulls out the other chair and sits down in it. He doesn’t lift his head. By all means, he seems lifeless. Completely still. Eerie, like he isn’t breathing. Her heart stutters in fear for a second, thinking he’s just up and died in her coffee shop, but—

“Oh, calm down.” Crowley retracts his forehead from the cold plastic table with a grunt and glares at Nina—she thinks, at least—through the impenetrable black lenses of his sunglasses. “I would like a mug of coffee with four measures of vodka, please and thank you.”

“It’s not even half nine yet, you know,” She scolds him, not really meaning it, but not willing to serve him alcohol so early either. He’s a bit of an odd fella (or, whatever) but Nina draws the line at serving a customer four units before noon. “No boozy breakfasts here. You’ll have to wait ‘til later—on Saturdays we have a boozy brunch. There’ll be cocktails.”

Crowley doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, “Pity.” He sighs. Snaps his fingers for some reason. He reaches into his blazer, pulling out an entire litre bottle of ABSOLUT and uncapping it. Nina opens her mouth, ready to tell him off, but he holds a finger up and guzzles down half of it before she can get the words out. When he sets the bottle down, she raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Thirsty?”

He ignores her, choosing to scowl instead, and looks off out the window of the shop looking a bit lost. “Your advice was shit. You and that—that vinyl seller. Thought you should know. Don’t go trying to influence anyone else’s ‘love’ lives, eh?” His words are full of forced humour, but his voice shatters a bit at the end, and suddenly Nina feels like some kind of villain. She looks at Crowley and sees someone in mourning. He’s grieving. He’s heartbroken.

“Fuck,” She says with feeling, and motions for Gretel to bring over two mugs.

Hours later—in the midst of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death’s boozy brunch—Crowley is drunkenly taking Nina step-by-step through his and Aziraphale’s extremely long history. They go back much, much further than she ever thought. Than she ever thought possible, actually. It’s all quite strange. And sweet, and sad, the way he talks about Aziraphale. “He’s so smart,” He says. “He’s good. He’s lovely. He’s the one I love. He’s only gone and returned to Heaven and left me on my own.” He also says, “I’m a Demon, I know I don’t deserve him,” and “He’s an Angel, he doesn’t want me. He could never want me.” And Nina is suddenly putting the pieces together, making sense of it all, her stomach—full of the buttered bagel she’d had for breakfast, half a bottle of vodka, and not much else—turns and swoops, threatening to expel its contents.

Crowley watches her then bursts into a startling laugh. It’s low and surprised. “There’s no way—no way—you’re just now realising what I am. What he is.” She just blinks and stares, and his laugh dies down but the lines of amusement remain etched on his face. “Oh, brilliant. You humans are brilliant. So bloody obtuse.”

“Oi!” She protests, reaching out to push at his shoulder. But she misses on account of being a bit more tipsy than she thought, and he laughs at her again. “I am not obtuse! ‘M quite clever, actually.”

There’s a smile on his—the Demon’s—face now, which is nice, much better than the frown he sported earlier, but when he gestures to his face and grins fiendeshly, she only stares confused for a second before realising that, ah, maybe she is a bit obtuse. His eyes are bright and a little bit playful, without the sunglasses. Big and yellow and snake-like, and oh, that’s what the Eden story had been about. It hadn’t been a metaphor or a weird figure of speech, but the truth. She’d been so busy listening to him she hadn’t noticed the moment he’d pocketed his sunglasses.

Instead of crippling fear or mortal terror, Nina just laughs and laughs. She orders them both a creamy coffee and some malt biscuits, even at his weak protests, and she lets him tell her all about the planets and the stars, Mesopotamia, the crucifixion, the Seven hills of ancient Rome, the burning of witches in the fifteenth century, the Armageddon-That-Wasn’t…