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#but got badly hurt and I stepped in and stopped them
roonyxx · 1 day
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Healing Love: Part 2
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Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.
Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader
Word count: 2455
Chapter warnings: angst, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are), fluff.
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The day at work seemed to last forever but eventually your shift ended and you hurried home, you jumped in the shower to shave, scrub, wax, all of it.
By the time you fed Quinn and are all dressed up it is seven.
You check your phone, no news. Which is not abnormal, he might be driving.
You sit on your porch while waiting for Dean to show up.
Seven thirty rolls around and no news.
You dare to send him a little text.
“Hey, it was seven at my place, right?” you send to him.
No answer. It’s not even read.
Quinn can feel your sadness at being stood up and lays his furry head on your lap.
“Perhaps he’s just late.” You tell him while stroking his ears.
Or he stood you up…
Around eight you go back inside and take off your heels. You really thought he liked yesterday’s kiss…
Was it a bad kiss? To you it was the best kiss ever. But maybe not to him? Is that why he ghosted you?
A smile blooms on your face when you hear your phone ringing, but as soon as it came it fades at the unfamiliar number.
“Damn spammers.” You mutter while hanging up.
Was it a little high hopes on your side that Dean wanted to go out on a date with you? Maybe… he is extremely beautiful. But he was the one who suggested it. It made no sense.
The number pops up on your screen again and you grunt while you hang up. Only for the number to pop up again.
“Jeez this one is motivated.” You sigh.
You stare at the number, maybe it’s work?
Not like you have plans for tonight anyway. You pick up.
“Hello?”
“Is this Y/N?” A strange voice asks you, but there is something similar about it.
“Yeah? Who is asking?” You frown.
“My name is Sam, I’m Dean’s brother, we need your help.” He sounds in a hurry, or worried even.
“My help?” That couldn’t be good…”Where is Dean?”
“He got hurt, badly… I know you don’t know me but- but he needs you. I will send you coordinates, could you come to us?”
“If he’s hurt badly he needs to go to a hospital.” You say, hurt again? Yesterday the cut, today this…
What are they involved in?
“That’s not an option, please Y/n, I- I don’t think he will get through the night without you.” He sounds so desperate.
Rubbing your face you grab your big bag for emergencies. “Send me the address, I will come.”
“Thank you” he sighs with relief “I sent the text, you text me when you’re here. Hurry please, Y/n.” And then he hangs up.
Walking with your big bag to your car you check the coordinates.
Who uses coordinates? You put them in your gps and see it’s just on the edge of town. You speed down the roads to get there within thirty minutes.
You get out of your car and frown, there is nothing but an old factory and woods here.
You send your text to Sam, telling him you’re here.
The big metal door of the factory opens with a loud creak.
“Y/n! Hurry, he’s in here.” Sam says from the opening.
You hurry down the little steps and follow Sam inside and look over the railing with wide eyes.
This isn’t an old factory…
The magic inside you immediately reacts to the sigils that are hidden in the walls. This whole building is magical, powerful. Your magic eases against the sigils with a soft hand, reassuring them you are not a threat. Once they are soothed they stop oppressing you like an intruder.
Inside is a very big room with many lights and machines you don’t understand. A big world map table lighting up in the middle.
And on that table is an unconscious Dean, bleeding heavily from his stomach and his face is covered in blood from a cut you can’t see.
“Oh god…” You run down the few stairs and get to the table.
“What happened!” You scream at Sam while you get to work.
Ripping open your bag you get out your stethoscope and listen for his heartbeat. It’s there but weak…
Bloodpressure is too low, he lost a lot of blood…
“What is his blood type?” You ask while cutting open his shirt.
His stomach… It’s shredded, this needs a surgeon, not a nurse.
“His b-bloodtype uhm” I can see Sam shaking in the corner of my eye, “we’re both O.” He eventually says.
“Sam…”
“I can’t explain what happened, he got c-cut open. Please… do something.”
“I’m not a surgeon.” You pant, the panic and magic rising within you.
He needs my magic but…
But the way he gets hurt every day, no hospital, the magic of this place...
Your eyes water while looking at his unconscious face, of course he has to be a damn hunter…
Hunters murdered your friend ten years ago. You swore to her to never get near a hunter again, it was the last thing she asked of you.
You have plenty of catheters and bags to make a blood transfusion. It’s not at all like the protocol in the hospital but it will have to do.
You can’t let him die.
“Sam, you need to get me some tape, water, a bowl, a lighter, and all the bandages you have. Go now.”
Sam nods and runs out of the room.
Giving you the chance to be alone with Dean.
You put on your gloves and start cleaning his stomach as much as possible to see the damage.
Definitely werewolf claws…
You grunt, “I can’t stitch this much shredded skin…”
You look over your shoulder to make sure Sam isn’t here and take off your gloves to start rubbing your hands together.
They heat up and start glowing with a golden light, you make your hands hover over his wound.
It is impossible to heal it all, your magic untrained and rarely used. But you will do what is possible.
You know that with training you would be able to heal a lot of things, but using it is very dangerous and it drains you. A lot.
You focus on healing the cells of his intestines, healing every precious organ that is inside, then you focus on the peritoneum, the bag that seals the intestines.
Sweat is forming on your brow and you wipe it away with your sleeve to prevent it from falling inside his wound.
Dizziness is creeping in and you push your magic to knit his stomach muscles back together and heal the edges of his wound, you can stitch them when they are less shredded.
You are panting heavily by the time your magic runs out. But you check his wound and are satisfied to see his muscles are perfectly closed.
You thread your needle, black spots are creeping into your vision but you push through.
Sam comes running in with everything you asked for.
“Tell me what to do.” He says.
“Check his head, find the cut and tell me if it’s deep, clean up as much as you can.”
He nods and does exactly that while you stitch his layers of skin back together.
“It’s not deep but bleeding hard, it’s just on the edge of his hairline.”
“Keep pressure on it and use butterfly bandage to put it back together. It should hold.”
I finish with my stitches and put a big bandage over his stomach, then wrapping a compression bandage around his entire waist to keep it all in place.
You move next to Sam to check Dean’s head, it is indeed not very deep and what Sam did will be sufficient.
You go to Dean’s arm and put in a catheter, you give him some antibiotics to fight of any bacteria that got in his open wound and a shit ton of pain killers, then you move to Sam.
“Sam, sit, he needs blood.”
You grab his arm and start drawing blood to make a transfusion.
After Sam donated the maximum he can, you make shift a pole to hook the blood bag so it can slowly enter Dean.
“You’re both very lucky to have O.” You sigh, exhaustion is starting to claim you but Dean can’t stay on the table, he needs to be comfy. You give Sam just a little time and hand him a cookie to get his sugars up.
“Can you carry him?” You ask Sam.
He nods “I can. W-will he be okay?”
“He can’t stay on the table. I don’t know yet, I gave him a lot of pain meds, he should wake up in a few hours, or his heart can stop from the trauma.” I say as my eyes stay on his chest, that’s slowly moving up with each breath he takes.
Alive. He’s alive.
Sam carefully picks Dean up. You stay close, making sure the blood bag stays above Dean’s head.
Sam walks him through the enormous building and reaches what you presume is Dean’s bedroom and puts him in the bed.
You arrange his pillow and cover him so he doesn’t get cold, then grab a chair and sit next to his bed.
You take off your smart watch, turn on the sound and wrap it around Dean’s wrist, a faint beeping noise sounding that follows the rhythm of his heart.
“Get some rest Sam, I will be here, if his heart stops, my watch will make an alarm noise, I will stay here, making sure he’s okay.”
“I want to stay here.” He argues.
“I can’t have you in the room when he crashes, which is a chance. Go to bed, try to rest. You will need your strength when he wakes up.”
If he wakes up…
Sam gives a little nod and reluctantly leaves.
You slump in the chair and watch Dean breathe. The exhaustion will claim you soon, so you learn forward and touch his chest, putting your very last magic into his heart. The weak rhythm of his heart starts to pick up,  with your magic it became stronger.
With the reassurement that he won’t die, you stop fighting the exhaustion and pass out.
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“Y/n?” you hear your name being faintly said, but your eyes won’t open just yet. Your body feels as if it is submerged in deep dark waters, every movement feels heavy and hard.
“Y/n?” your name is repeated, and you can feel yourself rising up to the surface of consciousness.
Your eyes peel themselves open and made contact with two spring forest green eyes.
Dean.
Dean!
Your eyes jump open and you reach his side.
“You’re awake.” You gasp, you check the watch around his wrist and see three hours have passed, his heartbeat and blood pressure are not perfect yet but they are good enough.
“How do you feel?” You ask him while taking off the now empty blood bag from his catheter.
“Not great.” He winces with a small smile, “But seeing you definitely helps.”
He still looks very pale.
“Pain?” You ask him while getting some more painkiller in a needle and putting it in his catheter.
He nods.
“This will help.”
He carefully lifts the covers to see his stomach, all wrapped up. “The last time I looked here I saw inside myself… I thought-“ he swallows hard and looks at you, “I missed our date.”
You can’t help but chuckle, “You almost died and you’re thinking about our date?”
“I was looking forward to it.” He defends.
“Me too.” You softly whisper.
“This isn’t what I had in mind as a date.” He lowers the cover again, “How did you get here?”
“Sam called me urgently, saying he needed my help and let me in. Good he did, I managed to help you, the next weeks will be hard, Dean. We will see each other a lot more. You talked about me to Sam?”
The smile he gives you is far from weak, “To see you a lot more doesn’t sound bad at all. I did… I was excited to tell him about you.”
You give him a smile back, blushing at how he wanted to tell his brother about you.
How you ever doubted for a second to not use your magic to heal him.
You would risk it all just to see him smile.
“What was your idea of a date?” You ask him to keep his mind, and perhaps your own, off how close he came to dying.
“Something cheesy, like a picknick in a field with a pretty sunset. Dropping you back at your place after we had a great time and then, then I would kiss you again.” He says.
You smile, “So you’re a romantic guy, huh?”
“Very.” He grins and tries to lean towards you, only resulting in him hissing.
“Careful!” You say and help him adjust his position by putting your arms around his naked shoulders and tugging gently on his pillow.
“That’s the second time you ripped of my clothes, you know if you want to see me naked sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”
“You’re such a flirt.” You smile at him and realize how close your faces are together, you glance down at his lips.
“I regret not kissing you tonight.” He whispers against your lips.
“Tonight isn’t over yet.” You whisper back.
He smiles and closes the gap between you two. Kissing you deeply.
You carefully cup his face, kissing him back.
He moans when your tongue brushes against the seam of his lips, asking for entrance, which he grants.
His hand comes up to brush your cheek. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, more moans spilling out from his mouth.
You’re panting against him, your hands slipping in his hair as you get lost in him.
A harsh hiss breaks you apart and you see that he tried to pull you closer, resulting in hurting himself. You slowly peel yourself away from Dean.
“You need to rest,” you pant, your lips swollen and wet from his kiss, “No excessive moving for you for at least two weeks.”
“The idea of taking a nurse on a date is much sexier than in real life.” He grunts as lays back down more comfortably, “No excessive moving, so no kissing?” he gives you the biggest puppy eyes, almost as cute as Quinn’s.
You blush and say “Only kissing is okay. Calm kissing.”
“I can survive with calm kissing,” he smiles then winks, “For now.”
You blush even harder and smile.
“Rest Dean, you need it. I will be here.”
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Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27
Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa @muhahaha303 @alwaystiredandconfused @deansimpalababy @globetrotter28
Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @suckitands33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @brightlilith @snowayumi
send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)
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crimsonkenjii-writes · 10 months
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Had a dream with Aizawa 😳 it was a mutual pinning kind of dream aauhhhhnnrrgghkkske
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sillypilled-friendcel · 7 months
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ignore this
#(theyre reasoning:#we recognize it as a temp agreement made for the purpose of giving us some sort of income and independence until we get a job)#(my reasoning:#the stuff we do is all stuff we'd do anyways out of obligation (or enjoyment for certain things) anyways)#(verdict:#still out)#(conclusion:#either way we take it for granted that we have this opportunity in the first place. we've gotten used to living pretty damn comfortably#and we need to take a step back every now and then and realize how lucky we are.#maybe stop worrying over things like this and consider more “what can [i] do to help others” or whatever else#<- voice of a girl who wants to do volunteer work again so fucking bad#anyways long storg short: appreciate what youve got and know it wont last forever. you have it better than most and#it may be difficult to believe how good they are when theyve hurt you so badly but [one of them is] trying to change for the better#and that diesnt mean you need to forgive them but it does mean you need to try living less in alert mode#<- talking to a boy with “live in alert mode disorder” lol#srsly tho. itll be hard but we need to liwer our gaurd a bit. not to make us vulnerable but so we dont get so caught up in the past that#we reject that present and fuck up the future.#youre friends (probably) like you#even if youre annoying#and you're a lot safer than youve ever been before. have hope they'll be gone soon and then you'll be even safer.#youre living a relatively good life nowadays (esp in comparison) and you dont want to miss it or take it for advantage#youre doing youre best. if someone had a problem they'd tell you. maybe try to ramble ur thoughts less.#just delete the damn messages next time if you really can't help it#<- you dont realize youre doing it until after its done so best option probably#also try to get more sleep. take ur meds on time.#also also respond to your roleplay#also also also roy hasnt made the rp starter yet. consider trying to make one? itll be a challenge but you need that challenge#<- relevant: make hcs for ur characters and add them to proper channel mwh#<- <- <- all today. please.#)
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altruisticalastor · 4 months
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Summary: You tend to Alastor's wounds after the fight with Adam. The weight of almost losing him nearly breaks you.
☒ Warnings: gn!reader, hurt / comfort, implied established relationship, descriptions of injuries and stitching them up, mentions of anxiety, the reader cries a bit, comforting!alastor, and also soft!alastor, one kiss, non-sexual undressing, soft touches
☒ Word Count: 1,010
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All you could think of the moment the battle ended was Alastor.
The last you saw of him, he was going head-to-head with Adam. But witnessing Nifty stab the lowly man made you worry something terrible happened to Alastor.
The moment you had a second to breathe, you rushed toward the Radio Demon's tower. A trail of blood leading toward his sanctuary sent a wave of fear down your spine. Your steps quickened at the sight, and all the worst-case scenarios flooded your mind. 
When you swung the door open, the view of Alastor blanketed your body with a cold sweat in the weight of a moment. He was doubled over the control panel, ears pinned flat to his head as the crackle in his voice echoed through the space with each breath he took. 
"Alastor!" You cried out, rushing over to his side in an instant. The sound of you calling his name caused his head to whip around. You wasted no time assessing his injuries, scanning your anxious gaze over his frame. 
"Worry not, my dear," Alastor coughed, blood spilling down the corner of his mouth. Your eyebrows knit in concern as you began raiding his radio tower, frantic to uncover a first aid kit. "Of course, I'm going to worry- you're bleeding all over the place!" You exclaimed, letting out a breath of relief as you found the emergency medical kit. 
Hastily, you began pushing Alastor's torn overcoat past his shoulders. The injured man simply gazed down at you, a weary smile decorating his visage. "Darling, I can handle this myself," Alastor clamored through gritted teeth, stopping your hands with his own before you could start unbuttoning his dress shirt. 
You shot your head up to meet his gaze, frustration evident on your face. "No, you can't! You need to let others help you when you need it! Stop trying to handle all these battles on your own. Please, Al," Your voice softened toward the end of your sentence. You didn't want to shout at him while he was wounded so badly, but Alastor's stubbornness got under your skin. Especially now. 
Alastor closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a shaky breath before releasing his grasp around your hands. "Alright, my darling... I won't stand in your way any further," His voice was barely above a whisper as he presented you with an apologetic look. You offered him a weak smile in return before undoing the buttons on his blood-soaked shirt. Peeling it off his frame with great gentleness. 
Your eyes widened in fear as you finally saw just how gnarly the gash across his torso really was. Your hands shook ever so slightly as you began threading the needle you uncovered in the first aid kit. "Tell me if it hurts too much, and we'll take a break." You expressed softly, eyes meeting his crimson ones. Alastor only nodded at you as he gritted his teeth harsher than before, bracing for impact. 
Alastor's grip on the edge of his desk tightened, leaving deep claw marks in his wake. You tried to make the stitching process as painless as possible, but there was only so much you could do. "I'm almost done, my love. You're doing so well," Alastor endured the grueling treatment, letting out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding as you finished patching him up. 
You generously applied ointment before wrapping gauze all the way around his frame. Alastor let out a hiss as the bandage came in contact with his gash. "I know, my love... just hold on a little longer for me," You snuggly secured the gauze before bringing your hands down. You grasped his hands. Clutching his large palms comfortingly as you beamed up at him. 
"There, now you're as good as new." You quipped, massaging the pads of your thumbs into the back of his palms. Alastor grinned wearily, his crimson eyes holding much adoration for you. "Thank you, my darling... I reckon I should apologize for being so uncompromising before," A slight chuckle escaped his lips as Alastor squeezed your hands right back.
You let a laugh of your own fill the room as you leaned in closer. "Ah, don't be... I'm just glad you're okay," Before you could catch up, your head came flush against his shoulder. The adrenaline finally wore off, leaving your body shaky and weak. Alastor didn't miss a beat. He gripped your hips to stabilize you instantly. "My dear, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern, radio static crackling out ever so slightly.  
Tears began brimming in your eyes before you could stop them, and a lump formed in your throat. One that you couldn't seem to swallow down. "Sorry, I just..." A hiccup shook your body as your hands came up to his chest, being careful not to graze his injury. "If you would have died... I couldn't bear it!" 
Alastor felt his heart ache at your sorrowful cries. Your solemn words only added fuel to the fire. One of his hands unhurriedly came up to the back of your head, cradling your neck as Alastor cooed at you. "Oh, my dear," He allowed you to sob into his shoulder for as long as you needed, only releasing his grasp around your head when he heard your cries fizzle out. 
You slowly pushed yourself back against Alastor's chest, sniffling softly as you looked up at him. Before you could process it, Alastor captured your lips with his. Pouring all of his love into the chaste kiss. Your heart fluttered as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips. Your worries seemed to melt away from his embrace. Alastor was your everything, and the fact that you nearly lost him today scared the fuck out of you. 
Alastor pulled back unhurriedly, still keeping his face close to yours. He nuzzled his nose against your own before he whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, my darling. You're stuck with me for all of eternity. I expect you haven't forgotten that already!"
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
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Steve and Gareth as cousins warm up, part two! 
First part is HERE. 
Next part is HERE. 
Reminder: Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine.
Warnings: Steve and Robin Get (canon-S3) Drugged. 
"I'm just saying the other theater is cheaper." Eddie said around the straw jammed in his mouth. 
He carried the largest bucket of popcorn Starcourt’s movie theater offered, alongside the two boxes of candy he'd also demanded Gareth buy him. 
"Easier to sneak into, you mean." Gareth corrected, with his significantly smaller bag of popcorn. His, he planned to share with Jeff, Grant having snuck in his own food. 
Gareth himself would have snuck in the cheaper (and far larger) snacks, but Eddie had thrown a fit about going to the mall to see a new movie instead of Hawkin’s far older theater. 
Of course, the older theater also had several disadvantages, key of which was terrible seating, and so, Gareth had bribed him with whatever treats he wanted. 
His wallet took a hit but fuck it, at least they got to actually see the screen. 
Not that they even made it into the fucking theater, because someone chose that moment to crash into Eddie. 
Popcorn kernels and soda flew everywhere, with Eddie only avoiding it landing on him and Gareth both by years of dealing with this exact bullshit in school. Of course, the mall wasn’t school, and neither of them had their guard up. 
"What the hell man--" Eddie spat, immediately on the defense, as they both turned to see what jackass wanted to cause problems this time. 
Except Gareth had recognized the person who bumped him. 
"Steve?" Gareth asked, causing  his cousin to totter around and face him. He was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, which remained to be absolutely ridiculous, but that hadn't been what had drawn Gareth's attention. 
No, that would be the absolute wrecked face staring at him with a doped up grin. 
All thoughts of the movie immediately faded away. 
"What happened to your face!?" Gareth demanded, immediately stepping up into his cousin's space, eyes darting over the damage. 
Recent black eye, split lip, blood splatter all down one side of his neck, nevermind his clothes… 
"Robs!" Steve called over his shoulder instead of answering, body moving as if he was walking on a wildly rocking boat and not solid ground. "Come 'ere!" 
He beamed, which had the horrific effect of resplitting his lips. "Meet Gareth, my baby cousin!" 
"I am two years younger than you." Gareth argued on automatic. He didn’t look to see how Eddie took this little piece of info--he’d figure out what he’d say later, when Steve wasn’t covered in blood. 
It did not stop Robin from reaching out to pinch his cheeks. 
She too, Gareth realized, was clearly high on something, both of them giggling and weaving on their feet. 
At least Robin didn’t appear to be hurt--or at least, not hurt as badly as Steve. 
"What the hell did you two take?" Gareth demanded, looking between them as he quickly put his popcorn back off to the side. 
"We didn't take anything, dad." Steve said bossily, rolling his eyes. He spoke in a voice so unlike himself that Gareth knew his own face was doing something crazy. 
Not that he could stop it because what the hell. 
"What my patriotic friend here means is that we don't know." Robin added, smacking a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. 
(The entire sentence was slurred and sounded like she'd shoved candy in her mouth before she started talking.) 
"You don't know?!” Gareth asked, taking in the way Steve flinched when Robin touched him. Added a mental note to check his cousin's shoulder too. “How do you not know?" 
Gareth wasn't panicking, he wasn't, except he absolutely fucking was. Steve's dad was going to kill him, disown him, and throw the body out of his house--in that exact order. 
Gareth’s parents wouldn’t take him in, not unless his mom felt she could use it to one up her sister in some way which meant that Gareth was going to have to sneak Steve in and out of the house like he was some--some puppy Gareth was trying to keep and--
"Did someone give you two something?" Eddie asked, interrupting Gareth’s spiraling. 
"Give is a very strong word." Steve said with a snicker. 
Robin nodded so much she looked like a bobble head. She leaned in, nearly falling into Gareth in the process. “In fact it’s not the word I’d use at all! I’d use…” She trailed off, screwing her eyes up in thought. 
“Made us?” Steve suggested as Gareth finally gave in to his instincts and reached out to steady his cousin. “Forced us?” 
“Socked it to us!” Robin added with a weird amount of glee, and the two of them once again collapsed into giggles.
Literally, forcing Gareth to try and steady them both. 
Which meant Eddie was right--they’d been drugged. It made perfect sense-- Steve wasn’t the kind to experiment with drugs beyond weed. Had in fact, given a very long lecture about how he’d make Gareth go on runs with him if he ever found out Eddie had given him anything stronger than weed. 
There was no way he’d change now, and especially not around a jobsite. Particularly one as busy as the mall. 
"You can't tell anybody." Robin continued, eyes so wide they were more white than pupils. "But we got truth serumed!" 
As if that made any fucking sense. 
Gareth turned a half frantic, half disbelieving look to Eddie--whose own face scared him almost as badly as Steve's did. 
He was hiding it, and doing a good job of doing so, but Eddie was the one person Gareth knew better than Steve. 
Right now? Eddie Munson was furious. 
Not mad, or upset, or even as pissed as he had been the time Tommy Hagan had thrown his drug box in the river. 
He was enraged. 
"Hey." He said, and the only thing more shocking than realizing Eddie was this mad was hearing him talk in a calming, almost playful voice. "Sounds like you two sailors had a pretty rough time. Why don't we go to the bathroom and get you both cleaned up? I bet you'll feel a little better." 
It was clearly the right move, because both of them looked downright delighted. 
"He thinks we're sailors!" Steve said, cupping a hand around his mouth and leaning to talk in Robin’s ear as if he was whispering. (He wasn’t.) 
Robin’s grin grew impossibly wider, before Eddie stepped forward to help Gareth half guide half herd the two into the nearest bathroom. 
"I know you." Robin said, squinting dramatically as Eddie opened the door with his regular flair, bellowing for anyone in the place to get out. 
It was Steve's turn to nod enthusiastically. "That's Eddie, Robbie." He said.
"I'm honored King Steve knows such a humble peasant's name." Eddie bowed as Gareth finally got both Steve and Robin into the bathroom, trying to get them to sit on the floor before they fell on their asses. 
Which just made a hurt expression appear on Steve's face. "’Course I do. You have really pretty hair." 
It had the effect of making Eddie look like he’d been punched and Gareth had to quickly turn his bark of laughter into a cough. 
"I bet it's soft.” Steve continued, as he pressed his back against the tiled wall and slowly slid down to the floor. “Gare, is it soft?" 
"It's very soft." Gareth agreed, trying to wet a paper towel with shaking hands. Finally he gave up entirely, ripping the plaid sweater he had tied around his waist and shoving one of the sleeves into the sink. 
“Oh my god.” Robin said abruptly, sitting up from her own slouched spot on the floor as if she’d suddenly been stricken sober. “It’s him! He’s your type!” 
“What’s my type?” Steve turned to her, as Eddie leaned his back against the door to the bathroom, blocking anyone else from entering. 
“It’s like--like Nancy! But boy Nancy.” Robin seemed to think this made a ton of sense, and given Steve’s immediate groan maybe it did to him, but Gareth was too freaked out to even begin to process what the hell they were on about.
Probably nothing, given they’d been drugged. 
Eddie seemed to pick up on his general anxiety and poor attempts at shoving down his own freakout, because he gently called out Gareth’s name. 
“I think it’s wet enough.” He added with a raised eyebrow. His eyes drifted purposefully to the sink and with a curse, Gareth snapped shut the water off. 
His hands were still shaking. 
“Give it to me.” Eddie said gently, moving to take the shirt from Gareth’s hands. “Here, swap me Gare, and guard the door.” 
Gareth did, as Eddie knelt down to take Steve’s chin in one hand, and carefully began dapping his wounded face with the wet sleeve. 
“May I ask what battles you two sailors have been involved in?” He said, continuing to sound like playful, fun Eddie and not like he was about to murder half the town (which, Gareth could tell by body language alone, is what Eddie actually felt like) “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of the villains who did this?"
“Robin melted into Steve, rubbing her face in his shoulder. “You wouldn’t believe us.” 
Eddie smiled his most charming smile, a full blown rouge grin he played up as he continued to wipe and dab at Steve’s wounds. “You’d be surprised at what I believe in, my fair lady.” 
Steve tried to talk, but ended up hissing as he ran into Eddie’s fingers. 
“Russians.” He managed to get out, when Eddie quickly took the sleeve away so he could talk. “We got kidnapped by fucking Russians. Also we kinda saw some shit and they’re after us. Possibly you now if they saw you with us.” 
There was the briefest of pause as Steve and Robin stared at Eddie, as Eddie stared back. 
Then Steve and Robin as one started howling with laughter, so hard that Robin’s head ended up in Steve’s lap with Steve’s own head resting on hers. 
Eddie turned to give Gareth a pinched look. “Russians.” He said, still calm despite it all. “Right.” 
Which had to be the fucking drugs speaking. 
Gareth just took a deep breath as Eddie managed to gently prod Steve back into putting his chin in his hand, shaking his head ever so slightly. 
He didn’t know who he was going to actually have to murder, but at least Eddie looked to be on board with acting as his backup. 
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clockwayswrites · 4 days
Text
Minx- Dinner Start
cw: implied and lightly referenced sexual acts and favors
“Well, you look like something the cat threw up.”
Jason pried one eye open just to glare at Danny as he flicked him off. It didn’t matter if Danny couldn’t see the glare, it was the principle of it all. Jason didn’t need to be told how badly he looked, not when he knew how badly he felt. He especially didn’t need to be told that by Danny who looked liked a million bucks. The black dress hugged Danny on all the right places to give him all the right curves and, impressively, the appearance of small but shapely breasts.
Danny just shrugged at the gesture. “You do.”
“And you’re lucky most people here know not to fuck with you,” Jason growled. “What are you doing walking around here looking like that?”
“There were some creeps around the lockers I keep my change of clothes in,” Danny said as he sashayed forward. The way he walked in those heels over the beat up sidewalks of the Alley was frankly impressive. “It seemed safer to come home like this than deal with those fucks. Don’t worry, I’ve got the gun you gave me.”
Jason ran his gaze down the form fitting dress again. “Where?”
Danny laughed, the sound bright and musical. It was at odds with the shit hole of a night that Jason had been through. It was nice.
“Come on, up off the wall. My place should be close enough to limp over to,” Danny said. He reached out and placed what Jason had to imagine was a gentle hand on the side of the helmet. “Unless you need the better stock of your place?”
Jason bit back a groan as he leaned up off the wall. “Not that badly hurt. It’s a lot of surface shit and bruising.”
“I can take care of that. Come on. I even have dinner waiting for us.”
“Yeah, how’d you manage that magic?” Jason asked. He followed just a step behind Danny and to his left, automatically falling in to guard him in a way that Jason tried not to think about too hard.
“With the magic of a crockpot and a rice cooker,” Danny said with a dramatic spread of his hands like he was making a rainbow. “Seriously, best two purchases that I’ve ever made. Like, I can come home to warm food and it’s good! I never thought that I could cook but this shit I can do.”
Jason hummed in acknowledgment. He couldn’t exactly do a crockpot when he didn’t know what safe hosue he might end up at, but maybe he could look into a rice cooker that he could start remotely. If he threw some precooked meat or an egg on top of the rice, that would still be better than what he at some nights when he was coming home after a long patrol.
“This one is mine,” Danny said as they got to a small, nondescript door. It was next to the entrance for a fix-it sort of shop and lead up to the second story of the battered, brick building.
Jason had already known that this one was Danny’s. He chose to not say anything about that as Danny unlocked the door and led them up the tight stairs to another door (which was to Jason’s approval also locked) and into the apartment.
Thrift store might be a better word for the place. There was a lot of stuff with no clear sense of style or theme. Hell, Jason wasn’t even completely sure what room they were standing in right then.
“Go sit on the couch,” Danny said.
“I would if I could see the damn thing,” Jason replied.
Danny rolled his eyes as he brought a foot up to start to undo the dangerous footwear. “Behind the potted plants. It’s yellow, you can hardly miss it.”
“You say that, but,” Jason said, mostly to be an ass, as he headed that way. He stopped short of the very yellow couch to stare at the wall and the large, neon skull that adorned it. “Didn’t that used to be up Vic’s bar?”
Danny smirked at him as he passed by. “You can’t prove it’s the same one.”
“I can. I mean, you know that, right?” Jason called after Danny as he disappeared through a door that he didn’t bother closing. “I could, in fact, prove it is the same one.”
“But you won’t!”
Jason sighed. But he wouldn’t. “How did you even get it here in one piece?”
“Carefully and with a few blow job IOUs,” Danny said casually. After a beat he added, “You know, I don’t think Leo ever cashed in on his? Oh well, he’s happily married now.”
Not really knowing what to say back to that, Jason sat down on the edge of the couch and started to undo his boots. He set the second one aside just in time to look up as Danny finished pulling on some black leggings up over strawberry patterned underwear. Jason glanced aside quickly.
He hardly had an issue with nudity— not after years of fighting crime with family or training with assassins— but there was something so much more intimate about it in the soft neon light of Danny’s apartment. Focusing on taking of the bulkiest parts of his own armor seemed safer than looking up again.
--- AN: Words are... not my friend today, so not sure if I'll get anything for Trauma Tuesday done. So have this it of Minx I wrote more of last night! Stay delightful, darlings.
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slttygeto · 9 months
Text
"IT'S A BLUE WORLD WITHOUT YOU" -- GOJO. S
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c.w: heavy manga spoilers, heavy content mentioned towards the end (su!cide), wrote this with fem! reader on mind.
word count: 2k.
note: this is how I cope.
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You are fifteen and you think Satoru is annoying.
You like rainy days. You like the feeling of comfort that comes with hearing the sound of rain hit the ground, the smell of soil and winter approaching and everyone pulling out their colored umbrellas to shield themselves from getting what. You love the rain, but you learn that someone doesn’t.
The door to the classroom slides open and you see a new figure standing by the door, looking extremely pissed. You share a look with your classmate, Shoko before Yaga steps from behind the new student and clears his throat.
“Girls, we have a new student-“
“I hate the rain.” The white haired boy interrupts your teacher and you furrow your eyebrows. Did he not know anything about respecting his elders? But before you could even think of possibly pointing it out to Shoko, Yaga’s hand collides with the back of the boy’s head and a loud smack echoes in the classroom. You watch the scene unfold with wide eyes.
“I was talking,” Yaga presses and the white haired male rubs the back of his head with a whine.
“That hurt!”
“Good. Anyway, this piece of shit is Gojo Satoru. He will be a student here with you. That’s Shoko,” Yaga points at the girl before moving his pointer towards you.
“And that’s (Name). Sit between them or next to one of them, it’s up to you.”
Gojo’s eyes flicker between you and Shoko for a good second before deciding to put his desk next to you and you raise your eyebrow.
“What?” He asks and you finally notice that he has sunglasses on during cold weather.
“I like to sit next to the window.”
“Well, he told me to choose.” He says before looking outside of the window, turning his back towards you.
“You don’t like the rain,” you add. “But I do, and I wanna sit next to the window when it rains.”
“You like the rain?” He sounds offended but you don’t falter and simply nod.
“Very much.” You hear him sigh before moving his seat back a little, swaying back and forth.
“Okay, let’s change seats.”
“That easily?” You raise an eyebrow and you can tell that he’s glaring at you behind his glasses.
“Just take the seat.”
Shoko watches the interaction with careful eyes but doesn’t say anything. When she turns to face the board, she notices Yaga staring at the two of you with something she couldn’t quite understand at the time, but she remains quiet nonetheless.
But then you turn seventeen, and you still think Gojo is just as annoying—idiotic, even.
You know you shouldn’t make him feel worse than he already feels, but Suguru was a dear friend of yours and the fact that Satoru couldn’t make him stay—despite it not being his responsibility made you feel like shit. So you storm to his room, you bang at the door and open it before he can even get out of his bed.
“You’re an idiot.” Satoru’s never seen you this heartbroken, but his eyes are puffy too and you should’ve stopped—you should’ve just left his room, but you didn’t. “You’re an idiot, you’re a horrible person!” And the louder you got, the closer Gojo stepped towards you.
“You think I don’t know that?!” Your heart stills at the loudness of his voice. “You think I am not aware of how badly I fucked up? You think I don’t know what was expected of me? I do! But I fucked up, and there’s nothing me-the strongest can do about it!”
And by the time tears are falling down his cheeks, you are holding his face and bringing him closer to you—hugging him the same way he’s been craving for years. You hold Gojo Satoru like the most fragile worn out cup in your pantry, you stroke his hair and let him cry on your shoulder as you wet his shirt too. For the first time in a while, you both feel like kids and you don’t realize the weight of what you both went through with Suguru leaving the school.
By the time you turn 26, Megumi has gotten used to your presence around the house. He doesn’t know whether or not you and Satoru are a thing, you never call each other ‘babe’ or endearing terms, and he knows just how shameless the white haired male can be, so embarrassment wasn’t something that could ever hold him back from referring to you as his partner. But he doesn’t, and neither do you.
You sleep in the same room, on the same bed. There have been nights where you and Satoru would simply cuddle on the couch and not exchange a single word, the comfortable silence engulfing the both of you when Megumi walks downstairs to the scene makes him raise an eyebrow before blurting out a single sentence.
“What are you two?” You look up from your book and Satoru groans a little because he was far behind in the page you were reading compared to you, but he looks at the boy you both took in after the tragedy that happened with Megumi’s father and gives him a look.
“And how does it matter to you?”
“It’s just… weird.” Megumi confesses and you give him an apologetic smile.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” The softness of your voice with him has always been the boy’s favorite thing, a reminder that a motherly figure that cares deeply for him does exist.
“No, but I just wish you made it official.”
His words hit you hard, and you try to pretend like it didn’t distract you from the book you were reading. Megumi goes back to his room and you are left with Satoru who seems to be adamant on getting you to notice him, or tell him off as he breathed hard against the back of your neck.
“Anything on your mind, Satoru?” you finally broke the silence and you shudder when you feel him press his lips against your nape.
“Don’t you wanna think about what he just said?”
And as honest as you can get, you simply reply. “No. I like it this way. Don’t you?”
Satoru is quiet. He presses a kiss to your skin and whispers against it. “Would love to call you mine one day.”
“I’m already yours.”
“Then let me say it,” Satoru makes you sit up and leave the warmth of his embrace. He turns your face around to look at him and speaks more firmly. “Let me call you mine.”
You’ve known Satoru for so long, but never has he made you feel so small and so intimidated. You are barely able to look him in the eye, flushed cheeks and trembling lips giving away the swirl of emotions inside you.
“Satoru…”
“Are you mine?” He whispers and his hand grabs your face in a way that has your breath catching in your throat.
“I am yours.” You whisper back, voice so small and body leaning towards his.
“Yeah,” he breathes out and his eyes trail down to your wet lips. “You’re mine.”
The night is long after that and you remember having to skip work the next day, with Gojo giving the kids a lame excuse as to why you didn’t wake up early to make them breakfast like you usually do.
“She caught a cold,” Satoru makes his way out of the house when he makes sure both Tsumiki and Megumi are in the car and the latter gives him a look.
“She was fine yesterday.”
“Yeah, I was surprised too.” The grin that Gojo flashes his spiky haired son is too cocky for the boy’s liking. You wake up an hour later with pain killers, breakfast and a note on your nightstand.
--I’ll be back after I drop the kids. I miss you already. I really enjoy calling you mine<3
You both are twenty seven when Satoru has to fight Suguru one last time. You hold your breath as your approach the duo having what you supposed was their last conversation, and with teary eyes, you step from behind the strongest to glance at the almost lifeless body of your once very close friend.
“Suguru,” you try not to let it show on your face, but you are broken. You don’t feel betrayed by him, you never did and it was something that Satoru chose to ignore since he felt all sorts of emotions when it came to his best friend’s abrupt decision a decade ago.
“Oh, you’re here,” the relief in Suguru’s voice makes your shoulders shake and your lip trembles in a sad attempt not to cry.
“When I asked to meet up all those years ago,” Suguru continues with half a smile. “You didn’t show up.”
“I refused to believe anything being said about you.” You confess. “Which is a bit insulting to you because you took it so seriously but…” You trail off, eyes lingering on the bruised body of your friend. “It just hurt. Knowing that I was there, but didn’t do anything about it.”
Suguru tells you that he doesn’t regret anything, how he simply couldn’t be happy in such a cruel world. Satoru tells you not to take a step closer, but you see his teary eyes and you hold the cold body of Suguru as tight as you can. The empty and quiet alleyway is filled with pathetic sobs and hushed comforting words.
You never heal from the incident that happened on December 24th, 2017.
You are now twenty eight and being brought up to the room where Gojo was. After being let out of Kenjaku’s prisom realm, you rush to your boyfriend’s side and slam the door open. There he was, sitting on the bed looking a bit too relaxed.
“Satoru,” you breathe out, tears brimming the corner of your eyes and said man opens his arms in an attempt to catch you when you throw yourself at him.
“Easy there,” he whispers against your hair but you tighten your hold around him and cry on his shoulder. “You really had no faith in me?” He tries to lighten up the mood, but when you pull away and have such a serious look on your face, he almost deflates and lets himself be vulnerable with you.
Almost.
“You were distracted,” you say and grip his shoulders.
“Won’t happen again.” He reassures you and leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Nothing can happen to me,” he continues. “I am the strongest after all.”
The sentence has a bitter taste to it now as you sit front row, watching the last few moments of his fight with Sukuna unfold.
Your seat is pushed back as you stand up abruptly. You wanna cheer when it is announced that Gojo has won, finally won—but you can’t. Your voice is lost, you’re not sure how, but your tongue feels numb and your heartbeat is loud. You feel your stomach churning at the sight.
Satoru spits out blood, and Sukuna has a smug look on his face as he watches the upper half of his opponent’s body detach and fall to the ground with a loud thud. And then it’s quiet.
No one dares to say a word, no one dares to move.
It was over, and Gojo broke the one promise he kept to both you and the students.
“I’ll win.” His lifeless body said otherwise. You can’t find it in you to think of anything—anyone but Shoko.
“Do something!” You scream out to her and the woman flinches at the loudness of your voice. Never has she seen you in so much distress. “Do something, make yourself useful—save him, he’s right there!”
“(Name)-“
“I don’t want to hear it… I don’t-“ you glance towards his body once again and your hands are tangled in your own hair.
“You can’t leave me Satoru,” you wish no one could hear you, but you see Yuuji’s body flinch from the corner of your eyes. “You know I won’t stay if you leave.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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villainousauthor · 3 months
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Villain effortlessly dodges another punch, light on their feet as air. They don't counter attack, mostly dodging and misdirecting as Hero gets increasingly frustrated.
"You keep just dodging! Fight back already!" Hero shouts, as Villain moves out of the way yet again. Hero grits their teeth, frustrated. Villain is doing this on purpose, they know it.
Villain frowns, eyebrows drawn. "I'm not sure about that." They twirl around, as graceful as a dancer as they avoid Hero's next strike.
Sighing, Hero drops their arms, sagging in place. "I swear to God if this is about last time." They can feel their face twitching in irritation as they speak.
"Last time I didn't hold back-" Villain starts, voice full of an amount of concern that Hero finds absolutely nauseating.
"I don't care -"
"- You got hurt." Villian finishes, their expression nearly being able to be mistaken for something like guilt. "Badly hurt."
"Stop treating me like I'm made of glass." Hero's arm cross against their chest, fingernails cutting into their palms as they try and keep their frustration at bay. They don't know who they're more upset at, Villain, for acting like they're breakable or at themselves for evidently being so fragile in Villain's eyes.
Villain's face twists into something firmer, more serious, as they step forward, getting into Hero's space. Hero isn't naive enough to think they're finally going to give them the fight they want.
"You were hospitalized. I thought you weren't going to survive." Villain's voice now has a fire in it unheard until now. "At my hands. Your blood was on my hands."
Stepping even closer, their hands finally, for the first time since this fight began, are finally on Hero as they shove them against the wall. Pressing forward, Villain's eyes burn into their's.
"I know how destructive I can be when I let myself, and I normally don't care about breaking you heroes apart. If I go too far and someone dies," Villain's breath fans across their cheek, "but not you. You don't get to die on me, and I'm not going to carelessly break my favorite plaything."
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babygorewhore · 3 months
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Friends with Benefits
Rafe Cameron x fem reader
After your confession to Rafe goes badly, he finds out you have a boyfriend. But you will always belong to him.
Warnings! Unprotected sex! Slapping! Spitting! Slight angst but ends happily! Daddy kink! Light choking! Not proofread! W.C 2.5K thank you to my sexy @xxbimbobunnyxx for always beta reading!!!
You were laying on your back, Rafes thick cock filling you up as he thrusted deep and hard inside you, leaking cum into you and onto the mattress. His thrusts came to a halt, sweat came off his forehead as you both moaned in each other's mouths. It was the third round, you both had been apart for a few days too long. Something that rarely happened in the months you both had been hooking up. Rafe rolls off you, wiping off his face with a hand and you sigh as the painful reality starts to hit.
After you both have sex, he never stays.
It happened the first time at one of his parties, one you had been invited to by your cousin Barry who was responsible for providing cocaine and booze when you had met Rafe. He was charming, hot and rich. His body was like a god’s, long with lean muscle strong enough to pin you down on the bed and fuck you relentlessly as he did nearly everyday. Multiple times in a row. You were familiar with his dick and the way it filled you up expertly, hitting every pleasurable sweet spot you had.
But there was one issue.
You actually had fallen in love with him. Why wouldn’t you be? He was everything you wanted. Strong, independent, crazy, passionate and a slew of other things most people didn’t pay attention to once he flashed them his credit card. Something he used on you too. He bought you clothes, updated your car, phone and your meals whenever you both actually hung out somewhere. He treated you decently, for his reputation at least.
You lean on your elbows as Rafe gathers his clothes on the ground, slipping on his t-shirt. “You’re not staying?”
He paused and shuffled around pulling on his shorts. “No. Why? I never stay.” He says to himself and absently waves you off. You swallow with a pang of hurt before wrapping yourself up in the sheet.
“Maybe you could this time. I don’t want you to leave.” He stopped this time, giving you an incredulous look and curled his lip.
“I don’t get it? What is it? Is something wrong?” He asked and you were losing your nerve as you tucked a hair behind your ear.
“Nothings wrong, I just want you to stay with me. You never do.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know that’s why I’m leaving. What’s gotten into you? Been acting weird all fucking day.”
“I’m not acting weird I’m just asking a question.” You said defensively and he set his hands on his hips.
“Why? Why do you want me to stay?”
That was the question of the hour. One you wanted to answer and run from. But you promised yourself if you had the opportunity, you would be honest with him. So you took a deep breath and spoke. “Rafe. I want you to stay with me because…I have feelings for you. This isn’t just fucking for me anymore. It’s more. And I want-“
“Stop.” His voice was stern as he stepped closer to the bed and bent down to your lower. “That’s a mistake. I told you from day one what this is and what it will always be. Just sex. If you can’t handle that, then it’s not my problem.”
You felt your heart shatter as he stormed out of the room, leaving you broken. You buried your face in your hands and started crying. How could you be so stupid? How could you even consider he would feel the same way about you as you did for him? He was Rafe Cameron for god's sake. Why did you even bother telling him? Your own personal resolve? It was stupid and so were you.
You got out of his bed, put on your dress and shoes. You reapplied your makeup. If you were going to be sad, you were at least going to look good at the same time.
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Rafe hadn’t seen you-fucked you-in over a week. You kept avoiding him and he hated it. His hand went to knock on your door, he knew the way to your house with his eyes closed but he hadn’t expected another car to be in the driveway. It wasn’t anyone he knew. So some stranger was here? Maybe a new friend?
It wasn’t like he was extremely active in your personal life but he knew you well enough. Several seconds went by as he waited at the door and he grit his teeth impatiently. What the hell was taking you so long?
He was about to call you when you opened the door. He arched an eyebrow as he took in your nice sundress. You usually never wore it unless you were going out. Your hair was braided with a flower crown. He crossed his arms with a pang of…what was it? Interest? Of course not.
“Took you long enough. Why haven’t you texted me back?”
“I’m not at your beck and call, Rafe. You know that right?” You quipped and he snorted. Attitude too?
“Yeah, whatever.” He rested a hand on the doorframe above you, leaning down with the intention of kissing you when a male voice called your name.
Rafe’s eyes narrowed when he saw a tall, not as tall as Rafe, male with brown eyes and brown hair. He could just tell by the way he was dressed that he was a pogue too. He gave him a look and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Pulling you against him and Rafe wanted to reach forward and punch him in the face.
“Something wrong?” He stared at the other male who asked you that question.
“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?” Rafe shouts and moves forward but you hold up your hand.
“This is my boyfriend. Josh.”
“Josh? He’s a fucking pogue,” Rafe spat out the last word and Josh immediately straightened his shoulders but you stepped inbetween them.
“Give me a minute.” You said before shutting the door and stepping onto the porch. Rafe crossed his arms and flexed his jaw. He couldn’t stop himself from being upset even though he knew logically he had no right to be.
“Rafe. You need to go.” You told him softly. “You need to leave and we can’t talk anymore. I have a boyfriend. And whatever that was? It’s over.”
Rafe laughed humorlessly. “You can’t be fucking serious. Is this because of what I said last week? Is this some kind of joke?”
Your eyes hardened and you stepped closer. “No. It’s not a fucking joke, Rafe. I’m in a relationship now. And it has nothing to do with the other day.”
“Bullshit. As far as I’m concerned-“
“Enough!” You shouted and pointed at his chest. “This isn’t about you, Rafe! It’s about me for once. I met him. And now, we’re going out. It’s that simple. Don’t like it? You had your fucking chance, asshole. And you treated me like shit. And this conversation is over.” You spin around at that and slam the door behind you.
Right in his face.
Rafe knew he had made a big mistake as his eyes squeezed shut. He was an asshole to you. Pushed you away too far. And now…
He’d lost you.
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You hadn’t talked to him in six months. Half a year and now you were pounding on his door after 3am crying when he opened it, eyes wide with a range of emotions. “What the fuck?” He muttered before ushering you in. “Get in here, it’s raining.”
You quickly stepped into his house, wiping away tears and smearing your mascara. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” You sobbed and Rafe immediately set his hands on your shoulders.
“It’s okay. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” You were back. In front of him. And he wasn’t going to ruin any chance he had. He was afraid you’d disappear again.
Your blue dress was almost black from the rain. Your shoes probably ruined from the mud, you didn’t drive?
“Did you run here?”
You nodded. “Yeah, Josh was driving my car. And we…we got into a fight.” Rafe stiffened and his blood went cold as you lifted up your arm.
You had a hand print around your wrist.
“Did he do this to you?” He growled when you nodded again with watery eyes.
“Yeah. He didn’t want me to hang out with my friends today. And I told him I could do whatever I wanted so he grabbed me. Wouldn’t let go either. I finally just got out of the car and started running. We were close by so…” you sniffled and Rafe felt nothing but rage at your confession.
How dare anyone put a hand on you?
“I’ll be right fucking back.” He says with a set jaw. You step in front of him.
“No, where are you going?”
“Where do you think I’m going? I’m gonna fuck him up.” Rafe tries to move around you but your hands fly to his chest, holding his shirt.
“No, no, don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go. Not again.” You buried your face against him, crying harder and rafe was frozen for a second.
Don't leave again. Your words echo in his mind as his arms encircle your shoulders and pull you even tighter against him in a warm embrace. He wasn’t accustomed to hugging people. He didn’t have anyone close enough to him to encourage such motions but now…he could stay like this forever. Your head tucked underneath his chin, arms around his waist. You were still crying but he knew you felt safe.
He said your name quietly after several seconds and gently tugged you back. “Listen, I want to say something.” And he cleared his throat. Months of waiting, hoping and even fucking praying that he would get a chance to speak was finally in front of him and he didn’t want to fuck it up.
“I know, I’m sorry.” You stepped out of his hold, wiping underneath your eye. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. You have better things to do. I’ve stayed here too long.” You shrugged and gave him a fake smile. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Bothered me? You’re not bothering me, I want to tell you something.” He tried to interrupt but you kept going.
“It’s stupid. Me coming here. Especially with how we last ended things. I know I showed up completely without warning-“
Rafe crushed his lips to yours, silencing you and causing you to make a surprised sound. His fingers set on your hips while his other hand cupped your jaw and he sucked your lower lip, slipping his tongue inside briefly before stopping the kiss. “Just let me talk,okay?” He said breathlessly and briefly rested his forehead against yours before taking a step back.
“I’m sorry. For everything. I never should have left you. I-I like you, okay? I always have, I was just too much of a pussy to admit it. And I was an asshole. You didn’t deserve that.” It wasn’t much of an apology but Rafe wasn’t good with words. “But you’re mine. I don’t fucking share. And Josh or whoever he thinks he is, he’s done. When I deal with him, he’ll know that.” He promises you.
He waited for you to speak as you bit your swollen lower lip and looked at him with big doe eyes. His gaze trails down, you were pressing your knees together. “Let me ask you something…” Rafe began. “Did he fuck you as good as I do?”
You gasped at his question and he smirked. “I asked you something, baby girl. It’s bad manners if you don’t answer. Or did he allow that too? Did he let you act like a bad girl?” Rafe nudged your knees apart with his, causing you to gasp and your back hit the wall.
“He didn’t fuck me as good.” You whispered and Rafe nodded.
“Course he didn’t. He doesn’t know you the way I do. He doesn’t know how to please that tight little pussy. But that’s okay. I’m gonna show you exactly how well I remember you.” He reached down, lifting you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he met your lips.
Rafe kissed you with a feverish passion as he kicked open his bedroom door, slamming you on the mattress without breaking the kiss. You tasted sweet like sugar as he shoved his tongue in your mouth, searing you with a force you’d missed for six months.
He lifted up your skirt, revealing that you weren’t wearing any panties. Rafe laughed darkly. “That’s my girl. Always a fucking slut.” He separated your thighs, showing your arousal pooling out of you and he dragged a finger along your slit. “Dumb little bunny. Thinking this could ever be for anyone else.” He circled his thumb on your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed.
His digit stays there before he trails them down, pressing a finger inside your entrance, making you moan underneath him as he wraps his other hand around your neck. He pushes another one inside, curling them both upward and you mewl.
“Oh fuck, daddy I needed this.” You manage and he smirks down at you as you’re struggling to even speak.
“Yeah? Needed daddy to fuck you?” He says against your neck, pumping harder causing you to whimper and claw at his shoulders.
“Mhm, please fuck me with your cock. Want you to fill me up.” You beg him and he smiles wickedly.
“Since you asked so nicely, baby girl.” He pulls back, sucking his fingers before tugging off his pants and boxers. His dick low and heavy in between his thighs. His thick tip presses against your clit as he rolls his hips, teasing you and you whine louder.
“Please, daddy, god, please!” He finally grants your wish and thrusts into you. Hard.
The bed squeaks against the floor as he rocks forward, your hand wraps around his throat, choking him gently and he groans and licks his teeth. “That’s fucking it. That’s my girl.” He rasps and picks up his pace.
He humps you with a brutal rhythm, no source of kindness in his movements as he fucks you. “You. Are. Mine.” He growls as you tighten around him. “Say it, fucking slut. Tell me.” He lightly slaps your cheek and you gasp.
“I’m yours, daddy!” He taps the other side of your face.
“Again.”
“I’m yours!”
“Again.” He spits in your mouth, making you swallow it and you shudder, releasing all over his cock as you scream out.
“I’m yours, daddy! Fuckkk!!” You squeal and he bursts inside you, filling you up just like he promised and it drips onto the sheets. He continues thrusting, messily searing you before he collapsing on you, his lips resting on your forehead.
You’re shocked at the tender way he kisses your head, peppering your skull and hairline as he rolls off, pulling you to his chest. His fingers trace your shoulder, goosebumps raising on your skin as breaths in and out. “I’ll never leave you again. I’m sorry I ever did.”
“I know.” You answer back and blink away watery eyes. “Let’s just stay like this for a while, okay?” You ask and he nods.
“Always. But I’m still gonna fuck him up.”
@drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @gri959 @oceandriveab @rafescurtainbangz @rafesthroatbaby
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meangirls-imagines · 3 months
Note
Hi. Can I request a Regina imagine? High femme lesbian reader. She/her. Looks are exactly my profile picture.
Plot:
Reader overhears people spreading terrible rumours about Regina. Reader defends her and Regina eventually finds out. Just pure fluff.
Thank you!
Protective
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Description: Reader is usually the level headed one of her relationship. However, she is hanging on by a thread. The thread snaps when she hears a football player talking shit about her girl.
WARNINGS: none really. pure fluff. regina being all heart eyes for reader. reader yelling at men
Y/N was on her last straw.
All week for some reason, people wouldn't stop talking shit about her girlfriend.
Regina George.
It was no secret that people disliked her girlfriend. She knew that. She knew when her and Regina first got together. People would tell her all the time, it's not like she could forget.
But this was different.
It was more constant than usual.
It was like every day there was a new rumor about her girlfriend.
"Regina is cheating on Y/N with Aaron Samuels."
"I heard Regina is pregnant with Jake's baby."
Y/N was tired of the shit talking. She was one little inconvenience from exploding. Luckily for her, it would happen soon.
Unluckily for Shane Oman, he was about to endure Hurricane Y/N.
Regina knew all the rumors about her weren't true, but it still hurt to hear them. Gretchen and Karen were working to kill all the rumors as they started but it was hard when they kept coming.
Regina had no idea how Y/N was reacting to the rumors. She hadn't seen the girl all day due to them not sharing any classes together. So she had no idea what to expect.
She was waiting for the girl in the cafeteria, foot tapping impatiently. Gretchen and Karen were with her, glaring at anyone who looked at Regina badly as they walked past. The blonde felt vulnerable. She just wanted her girlfriend here with her.
Her day just got incredibly worse when Shane Oman came up to their table.
"Hey babe, you wanna hang out later?" Regina cringed. "Shane, you know I'm gay and have a girlfriend. Leave me alone." The boy smirked and leaned closer to Regina. "Oh come on, Regina. Remember how much fun we used to have? All you need is the right guy to straighten you out."
Regina went to reply but was interrupted by someone pouring a smoothie on the boy's head. He whipped around to see a smirking Y/N standing there with an empty cup.
"Hi there, Shane. Let me go ahead and explain something to you. You're going to back away from my girlfriend, and I won't tell the entire school that you have herpes. Got me?" The boy stared at the girl with rage in his eyes.
"Try it. No one would believe you." Y/N smiled at the boy. "Sure, they won't. But, I can very easily get medical documents that say that you not only have herpes but maybe I'll throw erectile dysfunction in there. Imagine how much action you'll get after that."
Shane blushed in embarrassment and stormed off, leaving a trail of smoothie behind him.
The cafeteria was silent, all staring at Y/N in disbelief. The girl stood on the table and addressed everyone.
"Okay. Since we seem to have a gossip problem at this school, allow me to tell everyone now. If I hear a fucking peep about my girlfriend, you can go ahead and sign your fucking death wish. Everyone got it?" The cafeteria seemed to all agree and go back to their business.
Y/N smiled in satisfaction and stepped down, instantly being pulled into Regina's lap. The blonde pulled her into a kiss, causing Gretchen and Karen to squeal.
They pulled away after a minute and Regina brushed her thumb on Y/N's cheek. "Thank you baby. I really appreciate it." Y/N smiled and kissed Regina's forehead. "Anything for you baby."
Needless to say, the rumors stopped and no one messed with Regina again.
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kadwrites · 11 months
Text
different yet the same | T.S
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or check out the series masterlist
summary ; nothing stays the same, but how can you explain that to the people you love?
warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, soft!tommy, reader has a voice kink? idk, typos probably, reader likes starting shit, REALLY slow burn.
a/n ; let me know what you think<3, also keep in mind that my first language is not english <3
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you felt like you were overheating, his hand was barely even touching your lower back but you could definitely feel it. he led you back to the office, to grab his coat , where he finally stepped away from you.
"ya didn't 'ave to do that" you needed to cut the tension
"do what?" he was putting on his coat
"fire 'er."
he stopped in his place , looking back at you with a raised brow "you'd rather i keep 'er ?"
you really wouldn't "i mean...." you trail off, trying to find the right words
he steps closer, until he's right before you. a little too close maybe "what do ya mean?" his voice is soft and deep.
it really didn't help you , that his voice had that much of an affect on you. "would ya've fired 'er if she spoke this way to anyone else ?"
"like who?"
"i don't know, anyone else." you repeat your words
"but she didn't say that to anyone else" his gaze was so intense, it felt like you couldn't take your own eyes off his "she said it to you"
he then took a step past you before you spoke again "did ya do it because she offended me or was it because it might've hurt your reputation?"
he stops again and sighs when he closes his eyes , he turns "why are ya fightin' me on this?"
"i'm not!" you chuckle "i'm just wonderin'..."
"well stop wonderin' , we got shit to do. let's go" he motions with his hand and heads for the door, you huff and follow him.
but your questions don't stop there. once you're in the car , you're back at it and with more resilience.
"why 'aven't i met your family yet?" you're in the passenger seat, your arms crossed as he drives
"jesus fucking christ" he mumbles, a cigarette hanging from his mouth "what's gotten into ya today , eh?" he glances at you
"what? i'm just trying to make conversation" you try to sound as innocent as you can.
"ya've met polly, 'ave't ya?" he takes a drag of his cigarette, smoke blowing in the air "there ya go, she's family."
"polly doesn't count , i knew 'er as a child. before i knew ya."
"she's my aunt , how does she not count?" his brows furrow and he laughs
"ya've brothers, and a sister, and sisters in law." you're not giving up, "ya've met my family already , why don't ya want me to meet yours?"
"i barely did" he looks at you , then back at the road "they don't exactly like my company now , do they?"
"they're shy!"
he looks at you with a half smile, as if asking you if you're serious "really?"
"come on tommy, i'm serious. how am i going to marry into a family that i don't know?"
"you're not marrying my family are ya? you're marrying me"
"tommy" you click your tongue
"why do ya want to meet them so badly?"
"i just..... i've always wanted to be close to my husband's family when i'd get married."
he sighs , looking back at the road "it'll take time for them to warm up to ya and they're hardly as polite as your lovely family is" he mumbles with a sarcastic tone
"probably" you nod "but i do want to meet them"
"fine, don't say i 'aven't warned ya." he sighs again, "i'll see what i can do"
"mum says that thomas shelby proposed to ya" sarah and amy are in your room, they're celest's daughters.
"mhm" you're still in bed and they're beside you. your sister's children are rascals, just like their mom they, don't knock when they come in, they lay in your bed with you and wake you up whenever they're bored. you're eyes are still closed when you mumble, not that it would stop them from pestering you. you try to hang on to any crumb of sleep you can get.
"can we see the ring?" amy asks , you can hear the smile in her voice.
you raise your hand, wiggling your ring finger. at her.
you tried to keep this whole thing from them, to not let them know what really happened. they're smarter than you think though. after all , sarah is already 14 and amy is 13. they already have an idea, they just never wanted to bring it up.
"oh my god..." amy's voice is filled with excitement and a little bit of disbelief "is this a real diamond?"
"of course it fucking is." you grumble. you turn, so you're laying on your side but facing them now
"are ya happy?" sarah pulls the covers, getting under them next to you
"why wouldn't i be ?" you chuckle sleepily "i'm gonna be fucking rich" you wiggle your brows
they both chuckle with you, but they are still looking at you with a type of look, and you know what it meant.
"mum says that his house is far , that we wouldn't see ya as often." amy mumbles
"your mum is dramatic. of course ya will." you reassured them, but the thing is you didn't even know how life would be after your wedding. "ya're not getting rid of me that easy."
"are ya nervous?"
"a little bit yeah" you shrugs "but it's normal, your mum was nervous too ya know? she'd cry every time she saw me." you say with a snort "and look at 'er, she still comes over every other day."
"but that's different isn't it?" amy dares to ask
"what is different?" you ask softly
"everything is going to be different" she mutters and you can feel your heart crack at that "this wedding is different, you're marrying ... 'im, and moving away, and it'll be different." her voice cracks, and she looks away
"nothing is going to be different amy..." you get up, and scoot next to them "but even if things change i'll still be me, ya'll still 'ave me"
sarah leans her head on your shoulder "i'll miss ya"
you look at her then at amy, "aww , hey now" you hug her, laughing as you kiss her head "i'm not going anywhere," you speak into her hair
-
taglist ; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator, @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr , @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady , @edencherries , @globetrotter28 , @eg-dr3amer3 , @sadroses98 , @aliceindrugland
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python333 · 10 months
Text
bedbound — python333
— — — —
synopsis you're on a mission and oopsie daisy you get trapped under a building!! you end up in the medbay and tf141 visits you one by one, each of them giving you a lil piece of their mind for going and getting yourself trapped under a collapsed building.
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 4.5k
warnings pretty detailed (i think) descriptions of [reader] being in pain [specifically having a bunch of leg injuries], angstier than i usually write, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note this is my first actual fic ive wrotten in MONTHS so i hope its okay! so sorry if it feels like a majority of the focus is on the reader, i had a too much fun writing out the first part where they get crushed :3 i am also once again begging for requests. like on my knees hands together begging for requests. its the best way of getting motivation istg. anyway, this is all mild hurt/comfort and some angst + fluff so enjoy!! :3
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You tried running out of the building—you didn’t expect the whole damn thing to come crashing down on you.
You’d just been chasing after an enemy soldier moments ago, dashing into the building, when suddenly the whole building seemed to shake. Then, the whole thing seemed to just collapse. When you think about it now, you realize the shake must’ve come from a nearby explosion, an explosion somehow powerful enough to damage the structural support of the building so terribly that it couldn’t hold itself up anymore and instead fell down onto you. 
Now, here you were, just ten steps away from the entrance of the building, stopped by the huge slab of concrete and twisted metal that pinned your legs down to the ground. Your earpiece fell off when you fell down, sliding across the floor, preventing you from calling your team.
Sure, you could try and move your legs, but the excruciating pain that came with each movement wasn’t worth it. You think your legs are broken with the way your nerves scream at you every time you move them, and with how uncomfortably and horrifyingly disconnected they feel.
“I’m making shit up,” You whisper hoarsely to yourself, ignoring the tears that welled up in your eyes from the debris and dust in the air, “They’re not broken. I’m making it worse for myself by thinking that.”
In the back of your mind, you remember that you’re quoting Price on that one, from the last time you got seriously hurt like this. You vaguely remember your panicked words and Price’s soothing voice that came after every worry, telling you that no, you’re not too badly hurt, it’s gonna be okay, you’re just panicking.
But in the forefront of your mind, all you can do is think about how you can’t reach your earpiece to talk to your team, the only thing you can do is listen to their worried voices.
The earpiece is loud enough for you to hear, even though you’re just out of arm’s reach from it, you can still hear your teammates repeating your call sign and asking how you copy. With the stupid Push-To-Talk thing, you can’t even just respond, no, you have to push the button on the side of your earpiece to unmute yourself.
You stretch your arm out just a little bit more to try and reach the earpiece, but when your leg starts to strain and your nerves light up you immediately give up, letting out a small, pained huff. You take a moment to just lie there and listen to your own labored breaths, every other breath hitching or catching in your throat.
You swallow down a sob that threatens to bubble out of your throat and try to reach again and—nope, that still fucking hurts.
You bring your hand back and put it over your mouth to muffle a small sob that climbs up and out of your throat, and try to take a deep breath the best you can with the debris in the air.
You feel a slight discomfort in your chest and cough, horrified when you see small specks of dust in the air you cough out, and God, the sight of it makes you want to rip out your lungs.
You feel the sudden urge to cough everything out, to flush out the dust in your lungs, to get rid of the uncomfortably full feeling you feel in your chest, but you know that every time you cough you can only exhale more of that debris-filled dust back in so now you’re trapped in a loop and—
“[c/n], how copy?” God, you want to yell at them that repeating that question won’t help, but you know there’s nothing else they can do. They’ve already asked where you are, if you’re okay, and how you copy multiple times, all of which got no answer.
They’ve only experienced radio silence on their end, and the thought makes you feel guilty for not being able to suck up the pain in your legs and just reach over to the damn earpiece and tell them you’re trapped.
You take a few deep breaths, trying your best to ignore the way you can literally feel the dust entering your lungs, and reach. You stretch your arm out the farthest you can, and feel the strain in your leg, and you’re almost to the earpiece, just a few more inches— pop.
A bone chilling pop rings through the air the moment you manage to snatch the earpiece, and good thing it was at least after you managed to grasp it firmly in your hand because you recoil back on instinct and gasp.
The gasp only lets in more dust, and you cough, wet tears dripping down onto your cheeks as you go through a seemingly endless loop of coughing out dust and inhaling debris and coughing it out again only for new dust to make its way into your system.
You stifle a pain-filled whimper and try to control your shaky breath, gripping the earpiece firming in your hand, looking down at it, looking at the sheer amount of debris on it. You bring your free hand out and wipe away the debris with shaky hands, making sure it’s clean enough to put in your ear before you carefully insert it.
It takes you a moment with your trembling hands, but you manage to do it, and you listen to Price ask how you copy one more time before you push down on the PTT button.
“Copy—” You hoarsely say, before coughing, everyone on the other line going silent, “Copy, not doing very well over here.”
“What happened?” Price’s voice crackles through on the damaged ear piece, “Are you hurt?”
“I got trapped under— under some concrete, and I…” You take a moment to catch your breath, “My legs are pinned, I can’t move.”
“Okay, okay,” Price’s voice softens, his tone becoming more soothing, “Where are you?”
“In a building— dunno which— which one… it’s by the really tall one,” You breathe out, mentally slapping yourself in the forehead for not being able to remember, “I’m sorry, I just know it’s orange and it has the entrance that Ghost bumped his head on—”
“It’s okay, I know which one you’re talking about,” Price reassures you, “Catch your breath. I’ll be there to get you out of there, okay? Just stay still, don’t move a muscle, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” You mumble, trying to catch your breath, coughing at the amount of dust that infiltrates your lungs. You bring your hand off of the PTT button and sob once, quietly, and sniffle to try and stop yourself from crying, blinking away tears.
The tears that trailed down your face earlier now only make you realize just how much dust and grime is on your face, how the tear trails must’ve been the only clean lines on your face, how there’s a whole layer of pure filth on your face and you can’t even properly wipe it away because your hands are dirty too.
The pain in your legs are throbbing and you know that you’ve torn some of the muscle in your thighs, and you know the popping noise had to have been your hip, from the unnatural way you’d twisted it to reach your earpiece. You don’t even have time to think about how pathetic you look when suddenly Price opens the barely-hanging-onto-the-hinges-door, looking at the floor for a moment before his eyes finally land on you.
He immediately walks over to the slab of concrete pinning your legs down and forcing you to lie on the ground and you can hear him faintly murmur, “Oh, God,” and kneel down to the same level as the concrete.
You turn your neck to look at him and watch as he looks at the concrete for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to lift it, before he simply grabs the edge of the concrete and, with a grunt and after a good thirty seconds, he manages to lift one end up and flip it over onto its other side. The circulation that immediately floods back to your legs and the sudden feeling of weightlessness you get is almost too much, and you can barely find it in yourself to feel shame as you let out a small, relieved sob at the sudden rush of blood to your legs.
Price immediately gasps and you can’t see much from your angle but in the midst of your relief you suddenly feel a pang of pain and oh God, that hurts. You can recognize now the warm blood that accompanies the drying blood on your calf, and with the blood rushing into your legs, more spills out from the wound in your leg. Vaguely, you can remember twisted metal doing something to your leg—stabbing it, maybe? Your brain becomes fog-filled; too hazy to think through but just clear enough to register the throbbing pain in your leg. 
“I’m so sorry,” Price murmurs softly, and before you can question him he takes the metal out of your leg and you let out a closed-lip scream, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the now uncontrollable sobs that break past your lips, the pain you feel making you light-headed.
Price quickly pulls a tourniquet out of one of the many pockets of his tactical best, wrapping the bright red strip around your leg just above the bleeding, blocking the blood from reaching past that point. He tightens it and rolls you over so that you’re laying on your back, making you stifle another pain-filled whimper. Without another word, he slips his arm under your knees and his other below your back and lifts you up bridal style, making you gasp sharply and cry out for a moment in pain, a few drops of blood making it onto the floor from your calf, the whole sight dizzying.
Being lifted up like this gave you vertigo—your head spun as you were lifted up and you could barely process anything with your hazy mind. Price mutters small ‘sorry’s under his breath, carrying you out of the door and quickly running with you in his arms back to where the others are, almost wanting to cry for you, seeing how much pain you were in.
Your eyelids drooped and your eyes shortly became half-lidded, and your ears started to ring, and everything was so overwhelming you just wanted it to be over. 
Price notices your eyelids drooping and quickly says, “Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, you gotta stay awake, kid.” You can only shake your head ‘no’ because talking feels like too much right now and let out another small, pain-filled whimper, just the sound of it making Price’s heart shatter.
You can only find it in yourself to talk a moment later, your words slurring together as you try to speak, “I can’t— can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, what you’re trying to warn Price about, but he seems to know.  
“No, no, no—” Price tries to beg you, as if you had enough strength to stay awake. Those are the last words you hear before you completely black out.
You wake up to a white ceiling and the faint beeping of a heart monitor. You move your head around a bit, trying to gauge where you are, when you realize— oh, I’m in the medbay. You blink for a moment before sighing and just resting there for a moment, trying to recount the events that happened earlier. You don’t have time to go down memory lane, though, because suddenly the curtains in front of your bed are pulled back to reveal your Captain. “You’re awake,” He states, closing the curtains behind him. “How could you tell?” He snorts and sits down in a chair by your bed. You look at him questioningly, “Where’re the others?” “They’ll be here soon,” Price assures you, looking at your blanket covered legs for a moment before looking back up at your face, “Medics said one at a time.” You hum neutrally in response to that and wait a moment before asking, “How bad is it?” “Your leg?” “Yeah.” “Well…” Price starts to list off on his fingers, recalling the doctor’s words, “The joint that connected your hips and your legs was twisted and it had to be set back to normal, your muscles were torn, your ligaments were torn, your nerves were so compressed someone had to physically massage your legs back to life, and the stab wound in your leg almost got infected.” “… Huh.” You blink at Price, before asking, “When can I get out of here?” “Why is that what you’re thinking about right now?” Price asks, confused, before sighing and answering, “Kid, your leg was basically broken. You can get out of here in maybe a few weeks to a month. Getting back to your assignments is a whole different story. It could take several months for your muscles to fully heal, and even then I don’t want you back out there for a while. Not until it’s guaranteed your leg won’t… give out, or something, out there.” You frown at Price, “So what, I’m just gonna be stuck here?” “What else are you gonna do with an almost-broken leg?” “…” Price sighs and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s frustrating, having to sit here for a few weeks then be able to get out only to not be able to do anything too physical, but your leg muscles were torn. You were trapped under concrete. You’re not going on any missions any time soon. I feel like that should be kind of obvious.” You can understand it, knowing the condition you’re in now, but you still deflate a little where you lie down and let out a tired, frustrated huff. Price chuckles softly at your clear display of disappointment and rubs your shoulder gently before patting it and getting up. “I guess I have to let the others see you too,” He muses, making your lips twitch up into a smile, the sight making him smile in return, “But I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you again, alright?” “Alright,” You nod, watching as he walks past the curtains blocking your bed from the rest of the medbay and listen as the door clicks open and closes shut. Not even a few seconds later, the door opens again, this time with someone walking faster to the curtains, pushing them aside eagerly. You quickly recognize Soap as he walks in, quickly closing the curtains behind him before rushing over and leaning down to hug you. This all happens so quickly you have to take a moment to process it, but you eventually hug him back, sighing at the warm embrace. “I want tae call ye stupid sae bad,” Soap mumbles into your neck as he hugs you, “but it wasn’ even yer fault sae I can’.”
“That’s the worst thing that’s happened all day,” You mutter sarcastically, making Soap laugh quietly. He pulls away from you and looks down at you. “It is, actually,” Soap says, and at your confused and mildly offended expression, he adds on, “It’s been over a day since ye got yer leg fucked up.” “… Oh.” You dumbly said, trying to process that. Over a day. “Everyone was really worried about ye, too,” Soap tacks on, refusing to sit on the chair behind him, simply standing by your bed. You stay silent, and Soap takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “I think that's the first time I've actually seen Ghost stressed," Soap muses, making you huff out a small laugh. “Really?” “Yea,” Soap smiles, “I ken. Stone cauld L.t, suddenly worryin’ o’er ye.”
“Isn’t that a surprise,” You mutter, a small smile gracing your lips thinking about Ghost worrying over you, “So you were all really worried?” “Very worried,” Soap nods, “Gaz thocht ye were gonnae die, poor chiel.” “Hm,” You hum neutrally. Soap stays silent for a moment before his voice softens and he quiets himself down a bit. “Try no' tae dae that again, aye? Ye'll gie the captain a heart attack," When you give him a pointed look, he rolls his eyes and adds on, “And me. Possibly. Maybe.” “Uh huh,” You look at him, unimpressed, “Right. I’ll try to predict when a huge piece of concrete is gonna fall on me.” “Ye ken wha’ I meant.”
“Never said I didn’t.” “Ye— y’know wha’? I’ll just leave then,” Soap says, feigning annoyance as he walks away from your bed, making you laugh quietly. He slips out and doesn’t bother to close the curtains behind him, simply walking out the door, not bothering to close that either.
You can hear him letting someone else know you’re ‘free to visit’, and just a few seconds later you watch Ghost walk in. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, seeing as Soap had told you Ghost was worried over you, but you still find yourself a little shocked when he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him. He sits at the chair beside your bed, and silently stares at you from the chair.
You stare back, not blinking, waiting for him to say the first word. You and Ghost’s silent staring match ends with Ghost sighing and speaking up. “How does your… leg feel?” “How do you think it feels?” You ask, deadpan, watching as Ghost’s eyes narrow. You blink at him for another moment before adding on, “It feels numb, right now.” Ghost hums at the actual answer and sits there awkwardly for another moment before stating, “Gaz thought you died. Or, were gonna die.” “I heard about that,” You respond, raising an eyebrow at Ghost, “Did he not know it was just my leg that got hurt?” “Hurt is a mild word,” Ghost mutters, before clearing his throat and saying, “No, he knew. He was more worried about all the stuff that got into your lungs.” “Oh.” “Yeah.”
You both stay silent for a bit, again, before you speak up, “So… are my lungs okay, or… ?” “No, yeah, they’re fine.” “That’s… good.” “Mhm.” Why is this so awkward? You purse your lips and turn your head back so that you’re staring at the ceiling rather than at Ghost, not knowing what to say. Why’d he even come in here if he was just gonna be awkward about this whole thing? It’s silent again, an uncomfortable sort of quiet that’s silent yet deafening at the same time—and you hate it. It seems Ghost hates it too, because he shifts in his seat, not saying anything verbally but you can tell by his body language it’s awkward for him too.
This goes on for maybe a minute or two, when suddenly Ghost gets up and walks the short one step between him and your bed and leans down to hug you. Like the silence, the hug is awkward, but unlike it, it’s comforting. A comfortable awkward? You tentatively hug him back and you feel his hands snake underneath your back, forcing his arms under you so that he can hug you properly. 
“I know Soap told you I was stressed and worried and whatnot,” Ghost mutters, his skull mask pressing into your shoulder, “… And he was right.” “… Did you think I thought he was wrong?” “Shut it and let me try to talk.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He was right. I was growing greys watching you passed out, and I think I almost passed out as well, hearing you were trapped under a huge block of concrete and got stabbed by metal.” 
“Did you ever find out what the metal was?” You ask after a moment, making sure he was done talking.
“The Captain said it was a twisted pipe.”
“Huh.” You lay there for a moment, simply enjoying Ghost hugging you, before Ghost speaks up again.
“I know it wasn’t your fault, but please, God, never do that shit to me ever again.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in a collapsing building.”
“I’m serious,” Ghost pulls away from the hug and looks down at you, keeping his hands on both of your shoulders, “I had to drive a car with you in the back passed out laying in the trunk with Price, all while not knowing what happened, and having to drive you guys back to base.”
“… Damn, you guys didn’t get a helicopter, or anything?”
“[c/n].”
“Sorry.”
Ghost sighs, “I’m trying to say that I don’t like worrying over you like that. I don’t like knowing that my kid is hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. That was the first time I was seriously worried and— and stressed over you, and it was terrifying, seeing you just passed out with dirt all over you and blood all over your leg, and just seeing you like that— I can’t do that again,” Ghost takes a deep breath, and looks down at you, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see what you think of his words, but all you can think is, wait, he called me his kid?
“You called me your kid,” You dumbly voice your thoughts, watching as Ghost’s expression becomes more confused, and he opens his mouth to deny that when suddenly— oh shit, he called you his kid.
“… I did,” He dumbly says back, sounding surprised by his own words, before he fully realizes what he said and simply blinks down at you, not knowing where to go from here. You both blink at each other, not knowing what to say, before he clears his throat.
“I’ll just… head out then,” He awkwardly says, slowly walking away from the bed.
You take the opportunity to say, “Alright, dad.”
He freezes and slowly turns towards you and mutters, “Don’t call me that.”
A grin splits across your face, “Oh I will. Dad.”
He points at you with a single finger, “Don’t. You. Dare.”
“I’ll call you it in front of everyone. I’ll gaslight them into thinking we’re related.”
“God, you better not.”
“I will. In fact, tomorrow, I’ll begin with the Captain. Then I’ll tell Soap, he’s the next most gullible next to Gaz, who I’ll see right after you. Gaz won’t fight with me over it, he’ll just accept it, I know he will, then, and only then, will I tell everyone else. I spread it across the base like the flu. Everyone, and I mean everyone will think that you’re my father, Ghost.”
“That is…” Ghost blinks at you, dumbfounded and mildly horrified, “... terrifying.” “Yeah, I know. Pretty sure I got that from you, dad.” “Oh my God,” Ghost groans, making you laugh at his misery. He walks out without another word, being sure to slam the door behind him, making the poor medic passing by jump at least a foot in the air. You giggle quietly in your bed, waiting for the next person to walk in. By the time you’ve contained your laughter, Gaz walks in, looking strangely sheepish as he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him that Ghost had forgotten to close. He doesn’t say anything until he’s right by your bed and bends over to give you a nice, firm, quick hug before standing up straight again and clearing his throat. “Hi,” He greets you simply. “Hi.” “How’s the uh… how’s your leg?” “You thought I died?” You ask teasingly, ignoring his question. You can’t see any blush on his face, but you’re almost certain his face heats up as he looks away from you. “Listen…” He sighs, looking back at you, “Price ran over to the whole group, with you not moving at all in his arms, and a tourniquet wrapped around your calf. I feel like it was a bit reasonable for me to think you were dead for a second.” “Right, of course,” You nod, definitely not believing that he only thought you were dead for a second, “That’s totally why I’ve had both Soap and Ghost tell me you thought I was dead. They only told me that because you thought I was dead for a second.” “I’m gonna murder them both, I swear to—” He mutters, burying his face in his hands, making you laugh quietly. He glares at you from behind his hands and adds on, “Oh, you think this is funny? You having a laugh down there, knowin’ that I thought you were dead?”
“I think this is hilarious.” “You’re insufferable and I don’t even know why I try to care about you anymore.” “You don’t try, you just do,” You roll your eyes, “Don’t act like you have to actively try and care about me.” “You’re so snarky today, my God,” Gaz scoffs, “Wait ‘til I tell Captain Price about this.” “Alright, Draco Malfoy. You do that.” “I shouldn’t have ever visited you in here,” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking away from you, feigning annoyance. You huff out a laugh at that and that makes Gaz laugh a bit, though he keeps up his dramatics, continuing to look away from you. “You still think I’m dead now, or?” “Shut it, you.” “My bad.” “I wish they amputated your leg.” “No you don’t.” “…” Gaz can’t even argue with it, simply sighing and rolling his eyes before looking back at you, ”No, I don’t.” “I knew it,” You smile at him knowingly, making his lips twitch up into a smile. You think for a moment before tacking on, “Wanna hear what Ghost said to me?” That makes Gaz perk up and immediately reply, “Oh, absolutely.” Cue you both five minutes later, Gaz gaping at you while you laugh every other word, remember the horror on Ghost's face when he realized what he called you. Gaz covers his mouth with his hand, laughing into it, gripping the rail of your bed with his other hand, keeping himself up.
“He— oh my God,” Gaz laughs, trying to keep quiet so Ghost wouldn’t hear him, knowing the latter was right outside the medbay. He takes a deep breath and another before breaking into small giggles once again, making you do the same. After maybe a few more minutes of just pure laughter, Gaz manages to catch his breath and stop laughing, and you do the same. “I should probably head out now,” He says, sounding almost disappointed by the fact, glancing over at the closed curtain a few feet away from your bed. You nod in understanding and don’t say anything in response, making Gaz look back at you and add on, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow though, yeah?” “Yeah,” You confirm, making Gaz offer you a warm smile and lean down to hug you tightly one last time before getting up and walking over to the curtains, sliding them to the side and walking out, sliding them closed behind him. You hear the click open and shut of the door, as well as Gaz’s footsteps walking outside of the medbay and eventually fading into nothing.
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adventuringblind · 5 months
Text
Rest
Norlestappen X Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff
Summary: Reader is struggling badly with a flair up but doesn't want to admit it.
Warnings: unspecified chronic illness, collapsing in exhaustion, worried boyfriends
Notes: another Nonny request!! Love this one so much! (Comments feed my praise kink and give me motivation to write... if anyone was wondering...)
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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The heat had been driving her insane. Qatar is a nightmare. It's so humid that it's difficult to breathe.
Her body despises the heat. It pulls every ounce of energy from her system. Make the pain soar to ungodly levels.
But she's not the one racing.
Max, Lando, and Charles are the ones racing. It's not fair to them that she needs their help when they have to endure whatever hell this is in a death machine for two hours.
She forces her mask back on and pretends she's fine despite her protesting body.
She checks on Charles first. Max and Lando are on the podium, so it gives her some time to see that he's alright.
Which, truth be told - he doesn't look. He's drenched in sweat mixed with cold water. He's panting and trying to peel off his fireproofs.
"Charlie? Are you okay?" She peeks her around the corner, and he shakes his head no.
She helps him get out of the drenched clothing and into a shower. Her phone buzzes violently in her pocket as Charles steps out. She kisses his cheek and dips out to see Lando, the culprit of calling her non-stop.
She drags her body to McLaren. Aching bones won't give her any reprieve as she walks. The heat is unbearable, smothering her mind in a deep fog she can't escape.
The McLaren staff barely bat an eye in her direction. Most give her pitiful looks, probably whispering about how she looks like a zombie.
She'll rest later. Her boys need her right now.
She taps Lando's door with her knuckles. He looks bright-eyed when she opens it. Smells of champagne sweat nearly knock her over. She has to bite back a gag.
Instead, she returns his smile and throws herself at him. "I'm proud of you!"
"Was a good race, wasn't it? A but jealous of Osc and proud at the same time."
She hums and closes the door behind her. Immediately going back to draping herself over the Brit. Effectively using him to help keep her upright.
"Are you alright, love? You look a bit out of it..."
"I'm fine, Lan, just been a long day, is all. Had a lot of cheering to do, you know!"
Lando manages to run around the small room, tugging off his wet clothes, rinsing his hair, and throwing on his team kit.
She grabs something to style his hair with, Lando will be in shambles later if he sees his hair looking wrecked.
She swears they both almost fall asleep to the repetitive movments. A small intimate thing shared between the two of them.
A much louder knock then her earlier one hits their ears, startling the two out of whatever trance they’re in. “Lando! You’ve got interviews to do!”
The Brit groans in disappointment, but gets up regardless. “Thank you, love.” He leans down to where she is still sitting and kisses her forehead. “Will you be alright?”
“I’m going to see Max next, I already saw Charlie.” She throws him a reassuring look. “I’ll be okay, promise.” She even holds out her pinky finger for him to wrap his own around.
That promise, however, is getting harder and harder to keep as she drags her weary bones to Max. Her body is screaming at her to stop moving, find somewhere to sleep for a couple of years before it goes back to making life difficult.
She shakes her head. No, she wasn’t the one driving in the hell today. She can wait until her partners are squared away.
Max greets her outside of the energy station. His face drops when he sees her. Her smile, although genuinely happy, is lopsided. Even the muscles that show her happiness are tired. That should be a red flag, but she continues forward.
Her and Max make their way to his drivers room. His arm wrapped around her waist in much ended comfort and support. She hopes he hasn’t caught on to the way she’s leaning into him to keep herself up.
they flop onto the couch together. “Lando told me you were on your way. He’s a bit worried about you.”
“I told him I’m alright, I promise. The heat is just difficult.”
“Tell me about it.” Max rolls his eyes.
Max’s presence and her comfortable position on the couch do nothing to help her fatigue. The drowsiness is slowly taking hold and she’s not sure how long she can hold it off for.
“You can sleep now, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She hadn’t even noticed she was asleep, slumped against Max’s body. Not until she cracks her eyes open and sees her lovers laying spread out across the room.
Ice packs are strewn across their bodies. Lando is drooling on Charles’ chest, Max has a hand dangling of the side of the sofa that looks like it was previously in charles’ hair, and Charles is sleeping with his body sitting upright.
She wants to giggle at the sight. They all look comfortable despite the chaotic positioning.
Her body moves on its own accord. the ice packs should be refrozen and she might be able to get her hands on some new ones while she’s at it.
She gets nowhere as Max’s arm wraps around her, pulling her back down on top of him. Lando and Charles stir awake from all the movement.
“Nice try, but you’re not going anywhere.”
She pouts at Max. “But I’m fine now. Just needed a nap, is all.”
Charles turns enough so that both him and Lando are able to see her, even if it’s not well. “The circles under your eyes say otherwise.’ He reaches up to hold her hand. “Thank you for taking care of us, but now it’s your turn.”
She would probably be crying s she had the energy to. The compassion they all have for her, even when she lacks it herself. It’s overwhelming at times. especially when she feels undeserving, like she hasn’t earned it.
Lando shimmies his way out of Charles’ hold and fixes himself. His arm coming up to wipe away the trail of drool. “Now that we’re all awake, I’ve tasked Oscar with bringing us popsicles, anybody want ‘em?”
A course of happy cheers fills the room at the mention of a cold treat.
Her smile doesn’t feel tired this time.
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oracle-of-dream · 6 months
Text
Regular Maintenance
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Minors DNI
Summary: Your car is been acting up, so badly to the point where you can’t put off going to get it fixed anymore. You’re forced to take your car to the only car shop you can afford and meet the handsome mechanic who’s willing to take a look at your problem.
Warnings: Pet names, Male reader, blowjob, cum swallowing, teasing
Word Count: 2.6k
Sitting on the couch, your stomach groaned and grumbled with hunger. You checked the clock. 10 pm… too early to try and sleep, not that your stomach would let you away way. Finally mustering the strength, you go check out the fridge and the pantry to find nothing to eat. Well, nothing that isn’t a 20-step plan and that was a no-go. Scoping up your phone and opening Ubereats, there somehow were no drivers delivering at this hour.
“Really? It’s not even midnight.” You huffed.
You looked at your car keys hanging on their hook by the garage. You knew it was a risk, but starving wasn’t really an option. You’re parents said they’d take it to the shop for you, but it would take them three days before they’d be able to. Three whole days of not being able to come and go freely was torture. Especially when you were so hungry. You figured, one little drive couldn’t hurt. Just making a run you’ve made several times in your car, and you’re favorite place was right around the corner. You’ve made the drive a hundred times, and could even do it in the dead of night while blindfolded. There’s no way it would be destroyed or something.
You took your keys, opened the garage, and started the car. The dashboard blinked with the service engine light, warning you in a menacing orange hue. Don’t be stupid, just wait… You took a moment to really think if it was worth it. But your stomach reminded you how much you wanted to eat something. Starting at the driveway, you pulled onto the street and everything was smooth. Perfect even. You got to the drive-thru, ordered, paid, and got the food with no issues. But on the way back home. You had to eat, and just a bite couldn’t hurt. You looked away for just a moment to reach in the bag, and when you looked back… a giant pothole was in your path, too close for you to swerve out of the way of. You braced as you felt your car dip and slam into the pavement, your dashboard lit up in anger, and the car slowly came to a stop… You turned the key once, twice, and a third time before realizing what you’d done. You killed your car. It was too late at night to call your parents, they’d bite your head off if you told them you not only went out in the car but then hit the pothole too. You stepped out of your car and lifted the hood, staring hopelessly to see if there was some big sign to help you fix the car enough to get home.
After a few minutes of Google searching and sitting hopelessly next to your car, a sleek black sports car pulled up in front of your car and parked. A man with reddish hair stepped out, you couldn’t see his face very well which put you on guard.
“Hey, you stuck?” The man called.
You put your phone up to your ear like you were on the phone, “yeah, Mom! Thanks so much for coming to me so late, so you’re a few blocks away?” You emphasized the last few words as you walked toward the driver's seat of the car.
The man kept walking closer. “Excuse me, dude,” he jogged to catch you.
You got to the handle and pulled, but the door was locked. You let out an exasperated sigh as you could see your keys in your seat.
“Yikes. Locked out too, huh?” The man was right behind you. “If you want, I can help you.”
You turned to see a man in his early twenties with a leather jacket, a sleeveless white shirt, and black pants. His shirt had black stains on it, and he smelled like gasoline. “You know how to fix cars?”
He nodded. “It’s what I do, fixed her other there myself,” he said pointing at the car we drove. “So you need a hand, or do your parent have you taken care of?”
You awkwardly nodded. “I think they may not be able to fix this, so I’d really owe you if you could help me.”
The man put his hand out. “I’m Eric, you are?”
“Y/n.”
“Got it, so let’s get those keys first and then we can see what this little lady’s issue is.” He rubbed the hood of the car affectionately, like a dog he’d just met.
Eric went back to his car and opened the trunk to pull out a toolbelt and some other stuff. He slung the toolbelt across his body pulled a few pieces out and unlocked the door with ease. He then looked over the front of the car and looked over at the engine and other car guts. 
“It looks like something got knocked out of place. I can push it back in, but there’s some other stuff I wanna take a look at too. It could be dangerous driving it.” Eric put his tools back in his car. “So why don’t we go to my shop, I can get a better look at everything there and I think I have some spare parts that could work here.”
“You said it was dangerous for my car–”
He shook his head, “I’ll have it towed over. You can ride in my car with me. We’ll be in the car the whole time, so you don’t need to worry. I promise I won’t steal her, but I can’t promise about you…” 
You let his last sentence hang in the air as he looked at you for a reaction.
“I’m kidding, I’m sorry, that was a bad one.”
“No, no, it was fine! I just wasn’t expecting it.” 
Eric rubbed his jaw in embarrassment. “You can wait in my car while I call the tow truck if you want. It’ll probably take a few for it to get here.”
You didn’t want to sit in his car alone, but also you didn’t want to just stand there awkwardly. But then you remembered the whole reason you came out there in the first place. You went to your car and pulled out your bag of food. It was a little cold, but your stomach was begging for relief. You sat on the hood of your car while Eric called the tow truck, munching on your food.
Eric wrapped up the call and walked over to you, noticing you eating. “Let me have a bite,” Eric demanded.
You put yourself between him and the food. “Why should I?”
“Because I’m the one who’s helping you. That’s the least you could do… I’m so hungry.”
You begrudgingly handed him the food. Eric held your hand and lifted it to his mouth as he moved down to meet you halfway. His hands were rough and strong, almost squishing your hand in his. He didn’t ask for more after his bite, seemingly satisfied. 
The truck didn’t take long to arrive and hook your car up to the back. Eric got into his car, and you joined him, the smooth leather interior took your breath away. It was so clean and smelled so nice, it didn’t feel like Eric was the one who owned it at all.
It was a short and quiet drive to Eric’s place. You didn’t know what to say, not even thank you felt right at the moment. And every time you tried to muster the courage to speak, Eric would glance in your direction which made you look away shyly. 
The tow truck followed Eric’s car to the shop and your car was placed on a platform so it could be raised and Eric would look at it.
Eric took off his leather jacket, revealing his muscular arms. He worked on the car for maybe thirty minutes, giving you time to look around the place. It was cluttered and small. There were pictures of Eric in front of luxury cars with other people standing next to him, but one picture stuck out to you. It felt like a family photo, even though no one in the picture looked like Eric. It was Eric and nine other men, sitting at a table happily enjoying a night together.
“Find something?” Eric’s voice hummed in your ear, making you jump. He smiled as you turned around to him. He was covered in marks from oil, grease, and probably other stuff that you couldn’t tell.
“Did you finish?”
“Yep. It was a pretty simple fix for someone like me–some real old parts needed to go. So I got those all installed for you. She should be good to go.”
“Thank you so much!” You hugged Eric instinctively. “How much do I owe you for all this?”
Eric chucked. “Don’t worry about it! No charge this time, just promise you’ll come back.”
“Eric, please, I couldn’t just walk out like this. I’m not that kind of person.”
“How about a kiss then?” Eric raised an eyebrow at you.
You felt warm in your face. “I-I don’t know about all that–”
He sighed. “How about your number then?”
“No, I just meant–”
“Wow, no number or kiss? You’re playing hard to get, aren’t you?”
“I’m not–”
Eric stepped forward, making you stop talking. “How about. I take a kiss. And you give me your number?”
You didn’t know how to reply.
Eric let one hand pull you into him by your hair, and the other to cup your face. “One last chance to back off.”
You just close your eyes, feeling the rough skin of Eric’s hand on your face drop away as you feel his soft lips on yours. He moved his hand to the back of your neck, encouraging you to press more into him. You opened your mouth into the kiss, Eric didn’t miss a beat to slide his tongue into the gap and let your tongues finally meet. Gently he guided you backward until your back was against the way. You’re hands felt hot and numb, but still, you let them do whatever they wanted. You felt his neck, his back, his chest, and slowly moved down his torso.
Eric stopped your hands as they reached his belt. He stopped kissing you, letting you collect your breath. “Sorry, I just said a kiss. Anything below the belt requires a second visit.” He winked.
You felt dizzy from the kiss, your body tingled all over. You’d never been so forward with someone, so it was… different. Eric was different. 
“I took my kiss. Now, you wanna give me your number? Again, your choice.”
You fumbled your phone out of your pocket and gave it to him.
“You’re so cute, ya know?” Eric chuckled as he added his number to your phone and texted himself so he had your number. “Text me when you get back home. And don’t feel bad about calling me if you have any more car troubles… Or if you just miss me.”
You nodded, “I will.”
“Good boy. Now get home, it’s late.” Eric kissed you one more time on the cheek as he walked you to your car, opened the door, and sat you down in the driver’s seat.
You turned the key and the engine started with a happy purr. The engine light was gone, and you’d never felt your car start so smoothly before.
“Thank you, Eric.” You said again.
“You’re welcome, babe. Make sure to come to see me again, I’m not really a one-time kind of guy. And if I find out you went to some other garage to get your car looked at, you’ll break my heart.”
You nodded as you reversed out of Eric’s shop. He walked with you and watched you drive away. You could see him staring from your mirror until you turned the corner. Once you got home, you checked your messages.
“Home yet, prince?”
“Yeah. Good guess.”
“I know! I’m just that amazing. But you should sleep now.”
“I will. What about you?”
“I’m almost home now. I’ll be dreaming of you, so do the same and dream of me too, okay?”
“We haven’t even been on a date and we’ve kissed and we’re dreaming of each other?”
“So you will dream of me? You’re so amazing, and such an obedient boy too. I like that.”
You blushed. You could hear his voice teasing your ears as you read his message. “Shut up! I’m going to bed.”
“Good night, y/n. Sweet Angel.”
“Good night, weirdo.”
You stared at his last message. Your heart fluttered, imagining him calling you sweet angel. Your eyelids started feeling heavy. So you put your phone down and finally laid down to sleep. 
When you opened your eyes, you were lying in the back seat of Eric’s car. You could tell it was his from the smell. You sit up and realize you’re not alone. Eric was sitting next to you, your head was just resting on his leg…
“Waiting for me, Angel?” Eric unbuttoned the front button of his pants. His legs spread to make room, a smirk spreading across his lips. 
You crawled over to him. His hand immediately moved to receive you, holding the back of your head as he guided you to his cock that strained against his clothes. You hadn’t even touched him yet…
“I need you, baby. Be a good boy and help me?” He almost sang as he tossed his pants and underwear down. His cock stood proudly, pink and leaking. You lean down and gift him soft kisses around the head. “More…” Eric moaned, his eyes struggling to stay open as he watched his head disappear into your mouth. His legs jerked, threatening to close as the wet warmth around him.
“Jesus, keep going,” he groans as you take more into your mouth. His hips buck as you give him more, licking up the shaft slowly. His head is thrown back into the leather of the seat just as you go for the gold. You open your eyes and look up at him, his eyes sealed shut with his eyebrow scrunched and his forehead slightly wet. His mouth was hung open, breathing hard between grunts and moans. 
You moan in joy around him, making his breath hitch for a moment. 
“Let me drive for sec Angel.” Eric gripped your head in place, gently thrusting into your mouth before building up speed. You start to meet him in time with his thrusts, making his timing stutter and his back arching so much that he starts moving out of his seat. “I’m gonna lose it, you’re gonna suck it right out of me!” His hands move from your head to his neck and the headrest, holding on for dear life as his arms flex. “More! More! I’m right there, so close, sweet boy!”
The climax was enough to make him scream as his cum shot into your mouth, your tongue running wild all over him, swallowing everything he gave you. His legs squirm as you keep sucking, milking him for all he’s worth. “Oh god, please! Please, just–” Eric couldn’t even hold it together to speak.
You started to enjoy his begging, continuing to lick on his overstimulated member. “I’m begging, please!” You finally release him, making his whole body flop down into his seat as he heaved breaths to calm back down.
“I’m gonna get you back for that…” Eric groaned between breaths.
You were exhausted and ended up falling asleep on his bare thigh, listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing
When you open your eyes, you’re in your bed again… Your phone is next to you.
“Angel, I had a pretty good dream about us.” Eric texted.
“I had a pretty good one too.”
“Oh? You did dream of me!? What did we do?”
You swallowed, thinking about your dream. “Maybe it would be better if I showed you…”
“Name a place and I’ll meet you there.”
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skipper1331 · 9 months
Text
Boxer // Alessia Russo
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a/n: based off this request. Bear with me, i don‘t know anything about boxing and the end is just random :D
"Ready for tomorrow?" the italian asked while she cuddled in to your chest. The smell of her shampoo hitting your nostrils as a content sigh left your mouth. "Yeah" you whispered at the verge of falling asleep, "but my opponent is one of the best, it‘s gonna be intense" with your eyes closed, senses shut off you didn‘t notice the way Alessias body tensed. She didn‘t want you to get hurt badly. "You‘re the best" she said, tightening her grip around you. You didn‘t hear it anymore as you had fallen into a slumber, soft snores filling your shared bedroom.
Despite that Alessia tried dearly to fall asleep, she just couldn‘t. She thought about the possibilities that could happen to you; broken arm, nose, leg, jaw, anything. Blood running down your face, black eyes, she thought about every possible injury with the worst ending. What if you break your neck? What if she (your opponent) breaks your neck?!
-
With your gear on you stood in the boxing ring, your opponent in front of you on her side of the ring. Your coach was giving you a prep talk about her weakness, to keep your defence up and watch your steps.
The arena was filled, many people from across the country to watch the two of you fight.
In Lessi‘s words it‘s a derby match or in Lucy Bronze‘s words an el clásico. And not only Lucy and your girl were sitting in the stands but Ella Toone, Leah Williamson, all of the lionesses. They were ready to watch you fight and win. This match may be one of the biggest in history.
To be honest, you were kind of nervous, you knew your opponent - the second, the ref would give the go - your enemy - she was an awesome boxer, could hit hard but was also very good with her technic in general and her mind games were horrific and dangerous.
Lessi was sitting between Tooney and Mearps, biting her nails while her right leg made a regular, rapid up and down movement. "Stop that" her best friend told her firmly as she placed her hand on the blondes thigh, stopping her penetrating moves.
"I‘m nervous"
"We could tell" Mary said, "She’s gonna be great" she tried to reassure her - with no luck.
The fight was about to begin, already fist bumping your enemy of the night. You turned one last time to the eyes that motivated you before you turned back around.
You were ready to face the so-called boxing devil.
Even though the blonde was nervous she still cheered for you the loudest, the other lionesses cheering with her. It was intense to say at least, your enemy hit some pretty good places where she definitely got points for but you did as well.
The whole time you were calm and collected until you saw her cheking out Lessi. The way the womans eyes wandered over the blondes body as your girl stood next to her friends.
Something inside you switched.
"Wow!" Mary cheered as she grabbed Alessias hand, "what‘s gotten into her? She‘s smashing!" Ella on the other side yelled something, other lionesses joining her as they encouraged you. For everyones eyes it seemed like you just got a new boost of energy - for Alessia it looked like you were angry. She knew you like the back of her hand, even fighting she knew what you did, how you thought and this type of fight-style wasn’t your usual. It was aggressive.
"Yes!" the girls shouted as the fight was called an end, the ref holding your arm in the air - you won.
Taking your gear of you jumped out of the ring, walking up to your favorite girl, "hm hello" you pressed a quick kiss to her lips as you slung your arm around her, looking at the defeated Girl in the ring. The blondes arm went around your body as well, not minding the sweat on your body - she hugged you always when she was sweaty so no complain there. You greeted the rest of the group, chatting with them for awhile. Mary and Ella even recreated some scenes of the fight while Rachel did the sound effects, Lauren utterly confused, her mouth agape. You loved her lionesses girls, some of them were super sweet and some hilarious - just a bunch of lovely weirdos.
Later that night, you cuddled into Alessias chest, her fingertips stroking patterns on your skin as you relaxed in her touch. Yet the question that Mary had asked earlier was still laying on tip of her tongue. What‘s gotten into her? "You know, i‘m so proud of you?" she mumbled into the dimmed room. "You told me more than once" you giggled, the striker not keeping her mouth shut on the way home. "Is there a but?" you asked sitting up as she didn‘t join your laughter, like she normally would. Straddling her waist, you looked at her with confused eyes, fingers playing with her baby hairs, "no. I was just wondering- you seemed angry?"
"How did you know?"
"amore, you‘re my girlfriend. I know everything about you." she grinned cheekily before she pressed a gentle lingering kiss on your cheek. "So?" pinching your sides, she questioned with her eyes, your own dotting around her face as a blush covered your cheeks, "shecheckedyououtandididntlikeitbecauseyouremygirlfriendandifeltjealous" you rushed out, your head falling the curve of her neck, your shy persona had taken over. "Come again?"
"she checked you out and i didn‘t like it because you‘re my girlfriend and i felt jealous" you admitted, face turning a deeper shade of red. The italian gave a loud laugh as you pulled back, playfully glaring at her, "not funny"
"It is! my jealous baby" you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, about to leave her lap and touch, "nah" grabbing your waist, she didn‘t gave you the chance as she held you tightly.
"You looked hot with that new energy" she purred in your ear while her thumbs drew circles on the bare skin at your legs, "and i love you" her lips pressed against your own as affirmation before she let her back flop on the bed, strong arms pulling you with.
At the end of the day, it didn‘t matter that she was a footballer and you’re boxer, if someone checked the other out the hell broke out.
And her friends loved you so everything was fine. A solid statement to love her forever.
———————
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gracesimp · 6 months
Text
I know
14th doctor x reader
Request/Summary: With the Not-Things, there's a lot of potential for angst and hurt/comfort, etc. Totally fine if you don't want to write this, but I keep imagining a reader companion who has been secretly pining for the doctor and the Not-Thing reveals their love for the Doctor while trying to prove itself and yeah
Wild Blue Yonder Spoilers.
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"You don't fool me," The Doctor says bluntly, looking at Y/n with his arms crossed and a grimace on his face. "You're not them, and I'd strongly suggest you stop pretending to be so before this ends badly." He threatens, voice dropped low into an hair-raising whisper.
"But I am! I'm me." They try quickly, tenuous pout on their lips and eyes full of tears. They place a hand to their heart, expression morphed into one of desperation. "Please, I swear! You have to believe me. After everything we've been through, you've got to know that it's me."
Scoffing and standing tall, eyes darkening dangerously, The Doctor shakes his head immediately. "Don't." He spits, taking a step forwards, so brutally it causes Y/n to step back in fear. "Don't you dare."
With eyes ingenuous and lips parted to allow shallow breaths to escape, Y/n responded quietly. "If I'm not me, then how would I know everything I do? How would I remember standing on the edge of civilisations, watching planets burn and being able to do nothing to help. Evil monsters - the ones that gave me this scar, remember?" They struggled, running a trembling finger down the little scar on their neck.
His face remains unimpressed. Blank. Angry.
"And how would I know how in love with you I am?" They whisper, swallowing thickly. "That thing may be able to fake being me, but they would never be able to fake a feeling as strong as that. Never."
It's silent for a moment, but then The Doctor's already dark manner growed into an appearance edging on detrimental. Without fear, he marched towards them, grabbing them harshly and restricting their movement.
A shriek left their lips, panting as they fought to escape his tightening arms. But then, their body fell limp, and they turned their head to look up at the doctor, smirk rising on the corner of their lips. "Got me." They taunt viciously then hissed as they kicked a way out of his grip.
/
Travelling with the Doctor, Y/n had grown accustomed to fear. The way blood would pump faster, the heart would bang harshly against the chest. It felt like it was going to burst out.
A few feet in front, the Doctor and Donna found sanctuary in the tardis. Unfortunately, Y/n was a tad slower. The two of them, Y/n and not!Y/n, exchanged a look before rushing into a full blown sprint.
"it's me!" Not!Y/n yelled as they ran. Arm reaching out, harsh breaths leaving their lips. "I'm me!"
"No, they're not! I'm me!" They corrected before suddenly halting in their sprint, hitting the other's back as they face the Doctor in the tardis.
But the Doctor's eyes never once glanced at the clone. Always, they remained on Y/n.
"I-I don't know how to prove it.." Y/n trailed off quietly before groaning, running a hand down their face. "Oh, gosh! Why can't I think of how to prove I'm me?"
"You don't have to." He answered simply, grabbing their hand and tugging them into the tardis, the doors immediately snapping shut with a bang.
"No!" Not!Y/n screeched as the door closed. They hissed and growled viciously, snarling at the fading spaceship. In a futile attempt to get the ship to stay in place, their nails clawed pathetically at the wooden box, blue chipping off and dirtying under their fingernails. "No!"
/
"That was scary." Y/n began, walking into the console room, freshly showered and in pyjamas, hair damp and eyes tired from the day's events. This captured the Doctor's attention and he immediately looks up from fiddling with buttons and such, a tiny smile instantly forming on his red tinted lips. His cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink at the sight of Y/n in one of his old tops. "I mean, I was starting to doubt that I was even the real me. How can you be so sure that you know I am?"
"I know," He assures quickly, not missing a beat. "and I will always know."
Blinking swiftly and nibbling their lip, Y/n looks down to avoid his eyes as their own cheeks colour, heart beating promptly. "Oh."
"You know," He begins, deserting the button he had been messing around with. "the other you said something interesting."
"Oh? Really? And what was that?" Y/n mumbles softly, rubbing their sleepy eyes and letting out a yawn. Upon seeing this, the Doctor's eyes soften and he grins, walking over to them and cupping their cheeks in his hands.
"Doesn't matter." He responds in a gentle voice, leaning down to press his lips delicately to their forehead. "Go get some sleep, angel. We can talk tomorrow."
As always, not proofread cos I'm lazy 🙈
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