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secretgamergirl · 7 months

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The Trouble With Dying in Horror Games

So as you could probably guess after posting a week ago that I'd just played most of the way through SOMA and planned to finish it today, I just did so. It's an excellent game, I'd highly recommend it, and I'd particularly like to sing its praises for mostly delivering on the horror end by throwing a lot of heady philosophical questions at you while forcing you to actually pay attention to everything going on, because you absolutely are not given any sort of map, compass, or current objective tracker. The one aspect of it that didn't so much click for me though was the monsters, and I'd like to share some thoughts on why, and how this is honestly one of the trickiest needles to thread in game design.

So the thing about horror games is that you want the player to feel, if not actually scared, a certain amount of tension, unease, disquiet, dread, etc. You don't want to keep that feeling mounting for the entirety of the game of course, you want to build build build build but then and release now and then, give a breather, and start building it up again. And while there ARE other ways of doing that (and again, the game that got me thinking about this is pretty good at making you stress over, frankly, roleplaying decisions), the most obvious and probably the most effective is making the player stress out over some sort of fail state, or as we call it in game design circles, death.

Problem is, dying releases tension.

This applies to any game really. When things are getting rough and it seems like you're about to die, yeah that's some great heart pounding high tension stuff, but then you miss that timer or take that hit or flub that dropped block or whatever and you're snapped back to the reality that oh right, this is just a game, and now you just have to try what you were doing again. And that's nice in a lot of situations, but in a horror game it's pretty much always going to throw things off because there is, again, this very particular sort of timing you want in the building and release and that early release can really screw with it. And generally, because really this is just how games work, you need to decide how far you want to roll the player's progress back to get back into that right rhythm.

Now personally, I'm a big fan of the golden age of horror games. Stuff from the earliest disc based systems, where not only are save points few and far between, but there's limitations on how many times you can save your game at all. Death had a hell of a lot more sting to it as a threat with games like that, and it also played super well with the first couple Resident Evil games and the way they make you sweat over all your resources in the long term by slow-drip-feeding you ammo and healing items into your very limited inventory. Now the downside to this of course is that you WILL, in all likelihood, die at some point where you have gone Some Time without saving, and while that leaves a good runway to reestablish the tension it's also, you know, super frustrating and you'll maybe want to step away from the game for a while to cool off.

Modern games though, with few exceptions, do not do save points anymore. They have fallen completely out of fashion, and the modern expectation is that every game will constantly be autosaving at very closely packed checkpoints, which is generally considered an evolution of the kindness of letting you save anywhere at any time, probably with zippy quick-save and quick-load buttons, which have kind of been back-ported to older games thanks to emulation and... honestly personally I hate this and that's a rant for another time, but I acknowledge that I am in the minority there. HOWEVER, this still really sucks for horror because we now have the tension break of death, with little to no sting following it, and we're then right back where we were, with no time for the tension to remount at all, and then whatever you died to is just an annoyance, especially if it happens again.

Now, SOMA is as much of a modern horror game as you can get. Like, you tell me something is a "modern horror" game, I'm immediately going to picture something with more or less this gameplay and frankly, something from this developer or someone trying to be like them, and sure enough, if you die you lose absolutely no progress at all. The checkpointing is so generous I swear I've actually MADE progress when dying, and it really hurts the ability for deadly things (by which I pretty much just mean monsters) to have the sort of impact they need. Which is a shame, because these are some pretty neat monsters! Every new one you encounter has a very distinct look and, in theory, a different rule you need to work out in order to avoid being killed. Here's one you need to keep from seeing you, one you need to avoid looking at, one you can't break eye contact with, one that won't kill you if you're perfectly still, etc. And that's neat.

But... I say "in theory" because I absolutely DID get through the game without figuring out the deal with half of them. Either I just booked it before they could reach me (which is great, actually, that keeps the tension if it feels like you're just barely staying ahead) or I just... ate the deaths which didn't even change my position but kicked the monster further down the hall. Which... yeah, nobody's happy with that.

Now, here I should point out that in this particular game this really isn't much of a problem at all because SOMA has like... 8 monsters total, give or take? It has much more cerebral ways to get under your skin, to the point where a lot of people say it'd be better not having monsters at all (and there's even an option to play it that way). I disagree though. They're fun designs, they have interesting patterns, and from both a perspective of story pacing and world building, it's quite important that we at least occasionally have some twisted monstrosities that may once have been human shuffling about in a menacing fashion. We just don't want the tension totally destroyed when they succeed in that menacing.

So how could we fix that? Well my go-to answer is "quit doing constant checkpointing, make me lose real progress so the stakes feel high and I'm really incentivized to work out the safe way past," and for a LOT of games, yeah, just do that. Here though, it's tricky, because a big part of why this game works as well as it does is that it's a bit mazey in its design with zero handholding, it doesn't have you collecting stuff, and aside from some chasey bits which are, again, great, there's no combat or action scenes really. You spend a lot of time stumbling around clueless and confused, picking up cool bits of world-building lore and familiarizing yourself with your surroundings enough to properly orient yourself and work out the path forward. If you die in the middle of that and get sent way back to the start of the area, you're not going to retrace those steps. You've seen those files you've worked out that mental map, you're going to get right back to where you were now, but now that monster is an annoyance not a threat.

So OK, if we can't restore tension after a death without sacrificing good stuff, what if we just avoid dying in the first place? I mean, that IS the ideal, really. You want to constantly be worried you're about to die, and then never have it happen. Tension builds constantly and only gets released when the designers want it released. This is tricky to accomplish though. You can literally just not put anything in that's actually going to lead to a death. Monsters that come charging and screaming up corridors but never reach you because a door slams shut or a walkway collapses or whatever, but that's a huge gamble because if the player notices even once that they weren't really in any danger, they now know death isn't a thing in this game, and the threat of it can no longer establish tension. The more fake-outs you do, the more likely they are to see behind that curtain.

OK, so, how about the monsters DO have the ability to kill you, but they rarely if ever will if you approach them smartly? This could work. Again, in our case in point, there's some trick to every monster, and if you know the trick, and can execute it, you're safe from that monster. It's still tense if there's some chance you might not use the survival strategy properly, we can still ratchet things up in a hurry by taking away the means to do what you need to at the climax of a given monster encounter, so things are still plenty tense, but the player has to be fairly incompetent to get killed, and hopefully they'll learn from it for the next attempt but be iffy on that. I do feel like this would work for SOMA and going in with outside knowledge of what does/doesn't cause each given thing in the game to come charging at you so that death is possible but rare would be ideal, BUT again the whole nature of this particular game not holding your hand and rewarding thorough exploration only with more details about exactly what the heck is going on and really pushing for isolation eliminates the easiest ways to clue that in-game. Unless of course it was dropping hints with the whole corpse black box recording deal and I was just too personally distracted to pick up on it. Again though, I'm just using this game as an example to discuss this in the abstract.

How about this though? What if we took dying to the same thing twice out of the equation? If this particular monster in this particular hallway kills you, you return to the last checkpoint, but when you get back to that hallway, the monster isn't there anymore. There's a risk of players treating this as an alternate solution to the problem of dealing with monsters and just face-tanking through the whole game, but you could mess with people's heads with it. If that monster isn't here, then where is it? Why isn't it here? Do we have diegetic respawns? Is the monster not here because it's off eating the corpse of the previous version of me? This feels like it's worth exploring.

Here's another one for you. Have softer fail states. SOMA actually does a bit of this in fact. When you die, sure, you get back up pretty much where you were standing, and it almost or literally does feel like monsters aren't so much trying to kill you as just giving you a big ol' bonk on the head as they pass, but it screws with your vision, and sometimes your ability to walk straight. I'm not going to lose progress from a death, but I am going to have a bad time if I get caught. That can work really well, and hell, in SOMA I took a lot of hits where I'm actually unclear if I just screwed up and got knocked out, or if we were just punctuating the end of a scene with me getting taken off guard and cold-cocked in cinematic fashion. There's a lot of ways you can play with this design space too. Maybe you get dragged off somewhere if you get jumped and have to work out where you even are when you wake up. Maybe you drop plot items when you get taken down like this, and have to track those back down when you're back on your feet (just, if you do this, be sure to make it a fail-forward sort of thing where you're just on a different path for a bit and people don't have to just do repetitive runs fishing keycards out of the sewer every time they get smacked by the monster they're stuck on or something).

How about some more variations on this? Every time something should kill you, fate gets altered by the weird artifact you're carrying. Maybe this is just fancy fluff for HP, or it's like the Gamecube Resident Evil Remake's survival items. Maybe sidekicks take the hits for you but then die forever, like Hellnight. Maybe you live but with a permanent injury (this is an idea I personally plan on taking somewhere when I get the time). So long as the player keeps moving forward after, these can all be really impactful partial fail states that don't break tension.

Anyway, this is all just stuff to consider if you ever end up designing a horror game... or just a game in general. But anyway, SOMA's great, definitely worth checking out.

Anyway if you'd like to seem me keep rambling about things, I honestly quite desperately need money to live, my patreon donations fell off a damn cliff this month. And if you want to see me stream more, OK, I'm going to try to make that a regular thing, monday nights, 8 PM.

#horror games #game design #SOMA #streaming #twitch

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team-gabriel · 3 years

Note

♟brightglass?

so, uh… yeah. I might’ve gotten a little carried away. enjoy?

[also on my AO3]

♟- patching up a wound

Jack Bright was almost certain that he’s bled through the half-assed bandage job he’s done on his shoulder. He can feel the throbbing pain radiating down his arm with every exhausting step that he trudged up the stairs to his apartment.

He fumbled with his keys for a few moments before he finally managed to pull the door open, kicking his shoes haphazardly by the mat and hanging his (now somewhat bloody) lab coat on the hook beside the door… he’d wash that out in the morning; he was too tired to do anything about that tonight.

Judging by the blood on his coat, he knew that his shirt had to be soaked as well, and, looking down at the ugly, dark red stain that had spread across his once-white dress shirt, he found that his guess was correct. Jack groaned in frustration — yep, that shirt was ruined… he really liked that one, too…

Whatever.

Simon, who had been sitting at the kitchen counter, was currently pouring all of his focus into the psych reports scattered in front of him. The commotion Bright caused as he entered the apartment was enough to draw his attention, but he still hadn’t looked up from his work.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Bright muttered toward the psychiatrist before he even had a chance to speak.

“Rough day, I take i— Jack, what the hell happened to you?!”

Simon’s casual statement quickly turned into an exclamation of shock and panic the moment he glanced up to see his blood-covered boyfriend.

“Simon, I said I don’t wanna hear it,” Jack groaned in response. He was not in the mood for Simon’s fussing, and wanted nothing more than to just replace the bandages, put on a clean t-shirt, and go to bed…

“Jack—!”

“Don’t worry about it…” Bright dismissed as he tossed his keys and lanyard onto the table, undoing his tie and wincing as another sharp wave of pain hit him.

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” Glass replied in disbelief, his tone somehow managing to convey both sarcasm and utter panic. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about here!”

“Simon. Really…” Bright groaned, both out of frustration and pain. “It’s fine…”

“Oh, sure looks it, Jack,” Glass replied, hastily gathering his papers into a pile and standing from his spot at the table.

Simon vanished into the bathroom and Jack could hear him rifling around through the cabinet for the first-aid kit… a lot of good that will do him, Jack thought bitterly.

“I’m too tired for this,” Jack muttered loudly. “Just let me go to bed—”

“Oh, so you can bleed to death?” Glass piped up, still digging around in the disorganized mess that was his cabinets.

“I’m not going to bleed to death.”

Jack heard Simon’s rummaging abruptly stop for a moment, and despite being in a completely separate room, Bright could practically feel the incredulous glare Simon was giving him right now. Simon muttered something under his breath and continued his search.

“…and so what if I do!?” Jack shouted back. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve bled out…! and sure as hell won’t be the last!”

Simon reentered the kitchen, having finally found the first-aid kit, and still refusing to give Bright’s previous comments any form of response. He grabbed the chair that he had been sitting in and loudly dragged it across the kitchen floor — Jack wincing at the harsh sound.

“You know, Si, those downstairs neighbors are probably loving you right now…” he remarked.

“Sit.”

“…You’re being absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“Sit.”

“Simon, just give me the bandages, I can do this mysel—”

“Jack Bright, sit your arse down in this chair, or so help me god—!”

“Damn, Si, look at you — taking charge like that,” Jack teased, his voice still having that sharp edge to it, once again refusing to acknowledge any of the severity of this situation. “…Keep talkin’ to me like that, and you’re gonna make me act up—”

Bright had enough sense to cut his statement short when he was met with that frustrated exhaustion in Simon’s eyes. He dropped his inappropriate comment and shook his head.

“Si, really… the only one working themself up about this is you,” Jack hissed, but nevertheless, he finally sat down.

Simon’s expression was still pressed in a tight frown as he muttered a tired “thank you…” turning and placing the plastic kit on the table, pulling out the supplies he needed.

Bright rolled his eyes as Glass returned, clearly trying his hardest to get a good look at the wound despite Jack being in no way helpful.

“Jack, would you just hold still—?”

“I am holding still—!”

“Well quit moving your shoulder th—!”

“Ow! Simon, that fucking hurts!”

“Jack, I can’t even see what I’m trying to work with—! Would you just—? Jack, just—!”

Glass exhaled a growl of frustration. Since Bright was clearly not about to make things any less difficult, he decided it was necessary to take matters in his own hands. He immediately began fumbling with the collar of Jack’s shirt, roughly undoing the buttons.

Bright’s grumbling quickly turned to a shout, and now it was his turn to raise his voice in concern.

“Hey — careful! Jesus, Simon, careful!” Jack snapped, throwing one hand over his amulet, the other snatching Simon’s wrist and roughly yanking it away before his hand could get any closer to the pendant than it already was. “Fuck, Si, would you just wait a fucking second?! I already feel like my shoulder’s been beaten to absolute hell, I don’t need you dying on top of everything else!” he screamed.

Simon flinched backwards, clearly startled both by Jack’s outburst and the realization of how close he’d come to accidentally touching the amulet. “I- I’m—!” Glass began unsteadily. “Jack, I’m sorry…!”

Jack stayed like that for a moment while he waited for his heart to stop pounding, Simon still staring down at him with that deer-in-headlights expression.

Finally, he sighed, letting go of Simon’s wrist and watching as the psychiatrist immediately drew his arm back, guarding it against his chest and unconsciously rubbing at the spot where Jack’s grip had been the tightest. There was another moment where their eyes met, and both of them decided to soften their demeanor…

“I’m sorry,” Simon mumbled again, backing off just a bit, but still unable to stop staring at Jack’s bloodied shoulder with concern.

He really wasn’t about to let this go, was he?

Bright weighed his options. The irritation of having Glass attempt to patch up his shoulder was decidedly not even close to being greater than the utter devastation that would come with Simon inadvertently killing himself — or worse — because Jack refused cooperate and Glass once again ends up getting a little too close to his amulet…

Another sigh as Jack undid the remainder of his buttons as best as he could with his one uninjured arm, allowing Simon to easily reach his shoulder. He sat back down and twisted the amulet behind his back, slipping it beneath the back of his half-unbuttoned shirt.

“There you go,” he said, still not overly enthused with this whole ordeal, but willing to bite the bullet if it meant just getting this over with so he can go to bed. “Have at it, doc.”

Simon’s expression was much softer than it had been just minutes prior. He stepped back up to Jack, first carefully taking in the scene, and then delicately beginning to remove the old bandages.

Bright cringed a little at the way they clung to the wound, and at the growing pile of blood-soaked gauze and tape that was accumulating beside him as Glass continued to peel them away.

“Christ, Jack… this looks bad…” Simon exhaled, gently dabbing some of the excess blood away with a damp rag.

Bright only hummed in agreement. To be completely honest, even he hadn’t really seen the full extent of his injury — he saw a lot of blood and he taped himself up with gauze until he couldn’t see it anymore — problem solved!

…But now he was beginning to see the jagged gashes where claws met skin. He didn’t exactly enjoy looking at it, but he continued to stare, as it was better than having to look at the worry in Simon’s eyes.

“This... might sting a tiny bit...”

A tiny bit proved to be an understatement. Jack sucked in a sharp hiss and dug his fingers into the arm of the kitchen chair the moment the antiseptic soaked cotton touched the wound.

“Sorry...” Glass whispered, still carefully dabbing the gauze around the gashes. “So sorry... Just a little more, Jack. It’s almost done, I promise.”

“Yeah…” Jack said through gritted teeth. “Whatever you say, Si…”

Simon worked with diligence, cleaning the wound with a delicate touch, methodically bandaging as he went. He managed to get most of the superficial cuts to stop bleeding using butterfly bandages, but it was becoming obvious to Jack that the worst of it needed sutures…

It was clearly obvious to Simon as well, who apprehensively bit his lip, looking from the wound to meet Jack’s eyes.

Jack sighed and shook his head. “Go for it, Si…”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Whatever.”

Jack didn’t watch as Simon threaded the needle, he didn’t watch as he carefully examined the gash… but he definitely took in another little hiss of pain as the first stitch was made.

“Sorry, Jack…” Simon whispered.

“To be honest,” Jack gritted out again. “That fucking antiseptic was worse.”

As Glass continued to stitch up his shoulder, Jack once again found himself unable to look away, but now for a different reason. It always sort of amazed him when Simon did stuff like this. Granted, he’s only ever really seen it once — Jack had accidentally gotten his palm with a kitchen knife when he was washing dishes — but still, it amazed him. Glass worked with such exactness that, if he hadn’t known any better, Jack might’ve believed that he did it on a daily basis. He could tell by the meticulousness of it that this was no doubt a skill Simon acquired in medical school and perfected in his years as a field agent.

But, what Bright perhaps found the most shocking was how gentle Simon always was with him. No matter how much of a fight Jack put up, Glass remained delicate when it came to actually working on him. He’d whisper apologies after every wince or hiss of pain. He’d put such a high level of precision and care into his actions — when most everyone else at the Foundation (Bright included) would deem it unnecessary in the long run.

If Jack couldn’t truly die, then why bother putting in so much effort to save him? Why waste the time, skills, and material on keeping him comfortable?

But Glass… he always did. He’d care for him when he was sick. He’d tend to minor injuries no differently than to major ones. He’d sit by Jack’s side for anything.

But that was just a part of Simon’s nature, he supposed — to comfort. It was why he advanced so easily in his field. It was why the word “soft” was so frequently hurled at him like an insult.

And that softness was clear with the precise way he finished the last of the stitches… the way he gently cleaned away the residual blood… the careful way he bandaged his shoulder…

“Simon…?” Jack asked, watching as Glass finished up with the final bandages.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you do this?”

“Why do I do what?”

“Care so damn much,” Jack replied with a snort, although the heavy sincerity of the question still lingered in the background.

“About?”

“Me.”

“Why do I care when the person I love is severely injured? Is that really what you’re asking me right now, Jack?”

“You know what I mean,” Bright replied, rolling his eyes, only deciding to elaborate on that further after several moments of Glass doing nothing but staring at him incredulously. “I can’t die — not really — so, like, why put in all the effort, y’know?”

“Except you can die, Jack,” Simon replied. “…As you so frequently do. The only difference is that you don’t stay dead—”

“But is that really that different?”

“Yes, Jack!” Glass replied, the disbelief audibly rising in his voice, as if Bright were missing some point that was glaringly obvious to him. “Some may argue that it’s worse!”

Jack only rolled his eyes, prompting Simon to elaborate further.

“You aren’t invulnerable, Jack,” he continued. “You aren’t immune to feeling pain — in fact, you have felt such an immense level of pain, on numerous occasions, that a person should only have the capability to feel once, if ever, in their lifetime… You’ve experienced your own death, Jack. Over and over… And perhaps you’ve just become numb to it — or you like to claim that you have — maybe everybody else in this damned Foundation has as well—”

“Because it still isn’t the same as actually dying, Simon—” Jack butted in before Glass could cut him off again.

“Alright,” he replied. “Maybe it isn’t. But why does that mean that you don’t deserve to be treated with the same level of compassion as anybody else?”

Jack bit down on his lip, refusing to meet Simon’s eyes… he hated when Glass had a point on topics like this.

“Alright,” Simon continued, keeping his voice gentle. “The other month, when I came home feeling sick — you stayed awake with me—”

“Simon, that isn’t the same thing!”

“But was I dying, Jack?” Simon asked without so much as missing a beat, his tone rising with pretend disbelief. “Was I so critically ill that someone needed to waste their time on me? It was just a stomach flu — nothing serious, there’s nothing anybody needs to do for that except wait it out… why waste the effort, taking care of someone who was just going to get better on their own in 24 hours? Hm?”

Bright had gone right back to avoiding Simon’s eyes, this time going as far as to avoid looking at him all together.

“Simon, it’s…”

Glass sighed, letting his expression soften once more, losing the sarcastic edge to his voice.

“It’s what, Jack?” he asked softly, attempting to finish the sentence that Bright had given up on. “It’s not the same thing?”

Jack’s mouth was pressed in a tight frown as he turned his eyes to the floor, still unwilling to admit his ‘defeat’.

And, with a gentle, sincere expression, Glass finished his (albeit, mostly one-sided) argument.

“I love you, Jack…” he said. “I love you… and I hate seeing you hurt…”

Bright finally opened his mouth to respond, only to shake his head and close it wordlessly when he couldn’t find the proper thing to say. There was nothing he could say to disprove that final statement, and he knew that. He could feel the beginnings of tears prickling at his eyes… and he knew he was going to have a tough time trying to pass it off as still being caused by the sting of that stupid antiseptic.

That shield he put up was cracking, and Jack hated putting the vulnerability that lied beneath it on display. So, instead, he only leaned forward, gently bunting his head against Simon’s chest, burying his face in the soft, warm fabric of his shirt.

“I know, Jack…” Simon whispered softly, running his fingers through the back of Bright’s hair.

Jack took in a bit of a stuttering breath, letting the tears finally slip from his eyes and pressing his face harder against Simon’s chest. He couldn’t explain it with words — he never properly could — why there was something about Simon Glass that just felt so… right…?

Jack had never been good with feelings. And right then, he was swept up in such a powerful wave of different emotions that, for a moment, he thought he may drown.

He had come to believe that kindness almost always came with some sort of strings attached… but not with Glass.

Never with Glass.

He felt loved — so genuinely loved — that, at times, it almost overwhelmed him because of how unused to it he was.

So Jack held onto that feeling, staying there a moment longer, breathing in Simon’s warmth and feeling that gentle rise and fall of his chest. Until finally, he managed to gather enough composure to speak.

And, naturally, in true Jack Bright fashion, he attempted to change the subject entirely — anything to deflect from the fact he’d just been crying.

“You’ve got the hands of a surgeon, you know that?” he remarked, looking back down to his shoulder, trying to pull back up his cool, detached facade… although his voice was still a little unsteady and his sentence ended with a bit of a wet sniffle. “…Or maybe a painter. Ever think you might’ve gone into the wrong profession?”

He knew Simon had to see right through this pathetic attempt at a diversion as well, but he went along with it anyway.

“Don’t think I could handle the pressure of being a surgeon,” Glass replied softly. “Stitching someone up is one thing… don’t quite think I have the stomach for cutting someone apart.”

“So you settled for just taking apart their minds, then?” Bright teased, exhaling in what was half a laugh and half a choked, hiccup-y sort of sound.

“What can I say,” he replied lightly, turning and cleaning up his supplies. “Much less blood.”

Jack exhaled another quiet laugh and Simon couldn’t help but smile, and somehow, just seeing that made Bright feel warm inside.

His mind pulling him back to that unexplainable way that Simon just made him feel right.

Because there was just something about Simon Glass.

Something about those warm grey eyes and gentle smile that made Jack feel so at home.

Something about that open, deliberate way he expressed his love that made Jack truly believe that he deserved this… That this wasn’t a mistake. That this was what it felt like to be loved on purpose.

And Jack, despite years and years of denying himself the right to feel this sort of feeling…

He loved Simon right back.

✨send me a prompt?✨

#sarah answers stuff #brightglass #dr simon glass #dr jack bright #uhhh. I got carried away #nearly 3000 words later. here we are #blood tw #needles tw #I am fucking cringey…..but I am free

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grittybuggs · 3 years

Text

Bo Sinclair Fic

prompt: “are you going to hurt me ___? like something you can’t take back”

warnings: NSFW, typical violence, harsh language, bruising, choking, slapping, hair pulling. kind of a longer fic

there you were, bent over a strangers counter, being ruined by a man you’ve known for 20 minutes. “shit, your tight, that boyfriend of yours ever fuck you darlin’ ”. you could practically see the grin on his face as he forced his cock in and out of you. you could care less at the moment because he was right, randy barely ever fucked you. you didnt know why either. was it because your on the heavy size? or is it because he just isn’t into anymore? all you knew is that you felt so fucking good.

the mans hand snaked around your body, rubbing harshly at the most sensitive part if your body. you let out quite the seductive moan and he loved it. smacking your ass hoping to get an even better reaction, growling when you made even more lewd noises. skin to skin contact, moans, and aggression is all you could hear flowing out of his garage.

you were getting close and you knew he was too, you could feel him loose his rhythm. “f- fuck, im gonna cum”. you stuttered out. “shh shh shh, better be quiet before they hear what a slut your being for some dumb hick”. he recalled the words from your friends, with much more venom in his voice. his words made you shiver in embarrassment, knowing how the group would react to a person like him. “go ahead cum for bo darlin’ ”. bo, that name suited him well. you did as you were told, dripping for the greasy mechanic. “look at you, a mess, just for me”. you could feel him twitch inside of you, he gripped you hair, hard. your neck was strained as he dove his tongue into your mouth, covering your moans as he spilt his seed, filling you more than you could hold.

- (time skip until later in the night because im lazy)

you were running. where? the hell if you knew, you wanted out, away. you heard the last scream of your friends. that sent a deafening ring through your head. you stopped, behind a sign of one of the shops in the beginning of town, you could care less about being seen now. everyone you had was gone, randy, jesse… everyone. you had just caught your breath, but then you heard a whistle. for being a simple noise it was extremely horrifying. “where ya at darlin’? come on i ain’t gonna hurt my pretty little slut now am i ?”. this situation really fucking sucked considering your panties were still soaked from his cum dripping out of you all day. you flushed at the thought of earlier that day, are you stupid?? thinking about that right now. thinking about being railed by the man trying to kill you.

you wanted to try something, and holy fuck if it didn’t work. you stood from your current position behind the sign, hands up. “bo? im over here!”. this was so dumb, why would he spare you, huh? because you were a good fuck? you doubted your movements but went along with them. “there you are sugar”. he came around the bend with a sweet smile on his face. he was covered in blood, but what looked like his own due to the injuries covering his tense and sore body. you slowly approached the man, not wanting to startle him. “are you going to hurt me bo? like something you can’t take back”. he chuckled. “no, im not gonna kill ya, i actually wanna keep ya, make ya mine”. you wanted to shutter at his words. make you his? like a pet? why you? “let’s go up to the house, okay”. he sounded very calm as he snaked his arm around your waist to lead you.

bo was on top of you, you were both sprawled out on a rickety old couch. soft hums from him and breathy moans from you. you lost count of how many hickies he was leaving, you were sure you looked like a dalmatian now. you had lost all shame you felt when he pushed you through that door. you heard a car door, but both of you were too deep into the kiss to care. until a large thud and slamming of a door rattled the house. “what the hell vincent!”. bo screamed knowing exactly who it was. vincent seemed scattered and worried. little did you know he was worried bo would be mad about him loosing a victim. although you were the victim he was missing. bo jumped up and took vincent into the connected kitchen. you could hear mumbles but nothing coherent. when you popped your head over the back on the couch they both looked at you, bo with a smirk and vincent with a head tilt.

“hey bo?”. your voice was soft, nervous to make any real noise or to say anything wrong. “what’s up darlin’ ?”. his icy blue eyes staring at you. “you got any floss and a needle?”. you wanted to clean him up, and you already knew how to suture cuts because of randy. he had gotten into one too many fights. “yea i think, why ?”. while vincent was still confused as to why you were here bo had moved closer to you waiting for a response. “well theres a couple deep cuts on you and those can get extremely infected without being closed and i can stitch you up real nice”. you smiled and it looked like he was about to melt. Bo had never really had anyone who wanted to help him, other than Vincent of course.

Vincent reached around to his back pocket and pulled out a small pill bottle, he walked over and handed it to you. Pointing and making a small grunt to tell you to open it. There inside sat a needle and green thread. you looked up at him and thanked him. he nodded and walked off to what you assumed was a basement. you had turned to bo and he was already seated at the dinner table, which was placed in the kitchen. you walked over to the sink, feeling bo’s eyes never leave your body, and turned on the hot water.

HERE YOU GUYS GO, ITS UN FINISHED JUST TO LEAVE YOU ALL HANGING MWAHAHAH!!! anywaaays i will finish it buuuuut you guys gotta wait <3 LOVE YOUUU

#bo sinclair #boshusband #house of wax #slashers #holy fuck #horror #slasher fandom #bo #bosinclair #writing #how 2005 #vincent sinclair

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kentos-filmcamera · 3 years

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10 times, 1 occasion - Inumaki Toge

6. Mission

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: this is the longest chapter so far! it's a whopping 2.9k words so buckle up, it's a lengthy one. happy reading!

After another long day of training, loud knocking pulled you from your slumber. You had fallen asleep, taking a wistful afternoon nap next to Toge, whose arm was wrapped lazily around your waist while your head and hand rested on his chest. His eyes popped open right after yours.

“Open the fuck up!” You heard Maki shout, her knocks almost blowing down the door. You groggily got up fixing your yoga shorts and partly opened the door, to find her and Panda staring at you excitedly. They were in a hard euphoria, so intense they didn’t budge at Toge in one of your crop tops coming from behind you to open the door completely. She pushed an envelope towards you.

“Open it!” Panda urged. You’ve never seen Maki smile so brightly. With your manicured nail, you cut open the envelope to read the letter inside. You scanned through it. ``We are gladly informing you—’ ‘—recommended by Aoi Todo and Mei Mei—‘ ‘promotion to first-grade sorcerer.’ You blinked several times, reading the last part again. And again. And three times more just to confirm.

“First grade…” You whispered. You were currently in third grade due to inactivity, your promotion was considered, but due to your injuries, you stayed in that tier. Toge was reading from behind your shoulders, and once he was finished, he beamed, pulling you in for a tight hug. The pressure suddenly turned immense, but you knew you could do it.

For the next week, you woke up at 5 AM for training. Each morning, Toge would be snoring deep in his sleep, his tongue poking out, and you would kiss his forehead before heading out the door in leggings, your top of choice, and a track jacket with the school crest and name on the back.

“I win” Maki pointed at you with her blade. You panted and decided to take the risk, even if she could slice your throat open in the move. It was around 9 AM, and Toge was accompanied by Panda, the three first years, Gojo, and a special grade sorcerer you’ve only heard of.

“No, you don’t” A pair of cursed threads wrapped around her ankles as you threw her on the opposite of yours and you slid out from between her legs. You landed on your knees, Maki on her back. “I do” You dusted off your tank and your sweatpants as you got up. Maki groaned across from you. That was something you had never tried before, so she couldn’t expect it from you.

“Ah! My students are so talented!” Gojo clapped excitedly while giggling. The man next to him, Megumi and Nobara rolled their eyes. “I’m such a great teacher!”

“You haven’t taught us a single thing in months” Maki deadpanned. The sorcerer next to him narrowed his eyes, but Gojo just kept on laughing it off, the group approaching the two of you.

“Tuna” Toge passed a towel and your water bottle. You beamed through an exhausted smile, taking it gladly. You took tiny sips of the water to not overwhelm your system and dried the fat drops of sweat off your forehead. Your eyes landed on the suited man, brows slightly furrowed. He was…. Interesting looking by his fashion choices, but you didn’t know who he was in the slightest. As if he was reading your mind, Gojo started speaking.

“For those of you who don’t know, this is Nanami-san! He is such a great friend of mine—“ Gojo placed an arm across his shoulders.

“I am not.” Nanami was quick to respond, not humoring him in the slightest. He was stiff under the other man’s grip.

“—And he will be one of you guys’ lucky companions to your first-grade promotion missions!” Gojo patted him on the shoulder, but the man didn’t even budge at him. “The missions will be individual, each of you will be accompanied by a senior sorcerer to judge your performance and assist you in case anything happens. Questions? No? Great!” He didn’t even allow for you to actually raise your hand and ask. Then you were distributed; Gojo was taking Megumi and Nobara, Panda, and Itadori were going with Todo, Maki was going with Mei Mei and you were going with Nanami.

Ijichi drove you to the site, and your heart almost stopped at the sight of a primary school. Oh god. You gulped, feeling the air get heavier. Oh no, not this. You closed your eyes trying to find relief, but only relieved that night. You remembered your screams of help, the smell of your skin burning, the taste of your blood dripping down your forehead, Yuta’s screams from outside your domain to not exorcise Rika, the teary look Toge gave you as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Is something wrong?” Nanami turned to you, noticing your heavy breathing and weepy eyes. Ijichi caught on and informed Nanami of the incident you endured last year, and his mind seemed to be refreshed, as his brows shot up to then relax. “Look, if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine. Life is more than just jujutsu”

You held down a sob from down your throat and shook your head. You could do this. You needed to do this. For yourself. Suddenly, your phone vibrated.

[ Inumaki Toge @ your momma’s panties: which site did you get? ]

[ how is it? is it too much? ]

[ Maki Zen’in: i’m at the basement of a shopping mall ]

[ Panda @ your momma’s panties: yuuji and i are at an abandoned factory, something to do with an accident here in the 40s ]

[ You: i’m at a primary school. ]

You locked your phone as it started to vibrate incessantly, messages from your worried classmates pouring in. Toge found himself the most worried, anxiety starting to eat him away as he spammed your phone to no avail, as you didn’t answer or read messages, so impulsively, he decided to do something.

You breathed in before exiting the car, and the amount of cursed energy there hit you right in the gut. You walked up to cross the street to get to the building but felt the airy presence of a veil. Oh?

“There’s a veil” You informed Nanami, who approached you and crossed his hand through it to confirm. He nodded, before indicating you with his head to cross the veil. You did so, and he followed suit. You gulped, the school was decaying with the cursed energy

“I’ll be waiting for you outside of the school” He fixed his blazer. “Shout if you need any help”

“See you on the other side, then” You offered him a tiny smile before entering the school. The place was decaying, rotten brown walls full of a strange sticky substance, windows broken and fog surrounding the area. Good enough for your situation, the place seemed to be free of any victims. You felt something creep up on you, before getting launched towards some lockers.

“Ugh!” You groaned as you hit your back pretty roughly. You fell down on your knees and faced the first-grade curse, who seemed powerful as it crept up on you. The curse grabbed you with one of his arms, but you slashed through it and pulled back, falling once more on your back. You sniffed and got up as the curse made loud noises, reaching for your armband, pulling out three needles. Your free hand lit up with cursed energy but had to move quickly to avoid the tentacles the curse had. “Acupuncture needle” You threw the seemingly inoffensive ball of cursed energy “Piercing destroyer!”

The curse froze in its actions as large needles pierced through his vital organs, purple blood spewing all over the walls. “One needle and it’ll be exorcised” You reminded yourself, and ran up one of his stale tentacles to reach its head. Its long tongue grabbed you by the ankle, the saliva started to burn through your pants, but you did a somersault, causing it to rip, just as you punched in the needle to the back of its neck in your fall. You rolled through the ground to absorb the impact. You got up and watched the purple blood disappear, but the veil wasn’t broken.

“Nanami-senpai, I—“ Even with an injured ankle, you jogged to approach the door, and at the mention of his name, the man turned back, only to watch the door close in on you by itself. “Shit!” You groaned, and your efforts to open the door were useless. You heard him outside try to force the door open again. As you turned desperately to look at your surroundings, you heard a demonic laugh echo through the halls. Sucking in a breath, you ran up the stairs to investigate the second floor.

“Special grade curses containing one of Sukuna’s fingers look like this” Megumi showed the drawing to the three of you. It was a very detailed drawing of a curse with several eyes that walked on its hind legs, understood human communication, and laughed a lot. “They’re strong, but not invincible”

Remembering those words, you gulped as you took the last step and looked around the floor, hearing the laughter closer, but still far. You ran up to the third floor, the sound was closer with each step upwards you took. It had to be there. But it turns out, it wasn’t. You could see the door to the roof was open, and you sprinted to the scene, a strong amount of cursed energy hitting you right away, pushing you against the ledge. You must have hit your head pretty hard, as all you heard was noises from far away and a constant beep. Your eyes started to lose focus, but you knew you weren’t backing away too easily.

“Thread” You rasped, calling the curses attention, this time, you shaped your cursed energy into threads instead of getting a physical sample. “Charlotte’s web!” The thread launched forward and wrapped the curse in an intricate web, slowly thickening. You knew it wasn’t enough, but you needed to buy yourself some time to gain strength.

Outside the veil, Ijichi waited patiently in the car, almost falling asleep “Inumaki-kun?” He perked up at the sight of a gray-haired head, who turned to him. “You can’t be here!”

“Sleep!” Toge shouted, and so he did. If you needed a getaway car, he would drive it, or just commanded him to wake up. Probably. Without a care, he surpassed the veil and looked around for you. He knew you could take care of yourself, but the site was just a letdown. He had to make sure you’re okay.

“What are you doing here?” Nanami asked him, looking at him up and down. He seemed distressed.

“Cookie?” Toge asked securely, looking around for you. Nanami raised his arm, and then he got it quickly, judging by your interaction earlier, you meant something to him.

“The doors are locked. Windows are shut by a substance. I don’t know what’s going on there” Nanami was sincere to Toge, whose body moved uncomfortably at the news.

“Acupuncture Needle” You groaned, getting up, taking another one from your sleeve. You placed it between your middle and ring finger, calculating well the point on the curse’s neck as the needle lit with blue cursed energy “Mobility detainment!” The needle launched forward as you were hit by another surge of yellow cursed energy. You were already too close to the ledge. Uh oh.

At the speed of light, you reached to your armband and pulled out the thread, feeling your body be shaken by the forces of gravity pulling you down. “Grandma, give me strength” You looked at the ring, which shined briefly. You felt relaxed for a moment as a smile crept up from your cheeks.

You heard Nanami call out for you as you fell. Inumaki zipped down his collar, but he knew deep down, there wasn’t much to do. “Thread: Charlotte’s web!” The thread launched itself onto the almost immobile curse and held onto it. You held on tightly to the thick blue rope, breathing “I’m okay!” You shouted back. Your brows furrowed. Toge? He was looking incredibly distressed. Had he come for you?

You pressed your feet onto the outer walls of the school, but as you tugged to climb back, the thread seems looser. However, you did achieve to reach the top, only for you to face the curse instantly as you raised your head. You were starting to grow even angrier. He chuckled before grabbing the threat and raising it, looking at you before releasing it. Now you were pissed off. And at the brink of death. “Thread: Lasso! You’re coming with me, motherfucker!”

You roped in the curse, the two of you falling from probably one of the tallest primary schools you’ve ever seen. Nanami closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came, as you closed your eyes and called “Domain expansion: Seamstresses’ cave!”

Toge’s eyes widened as he watched the rope in your hand expand, and start to wrap you and the curse inside, like a giant yarn ball. Nanami cleared his throat, clearly amazed as the domain floated just less than three feet from the grass.

Inside, your eyes were shut, trusting your senses and gut to follow the correct pattern. You stood in the middle of a cave, a perfect circle for you to occupy. A square thread formed in your extended hands. There, you started to move them, weaving by forming patterns with moving each corner into a different one. With each move of your finger, you avoided any incoming attacks coming for you. And with each step the curse took, the walls full of stalagmite started to close in on it. It sustained the first shift, but when you shifted corners to different fingers, you heard the crunch and spill of blood.

You chuckled. ‘Almost there’ You reminded yourself as you felt your limbs going numb; unlike other sorcerers, creating a domain drained you profusely. Another shift from corners and you opened your eyes, the curse was completely crushed. You moved forward, the stalagmite opening space for you.

You hummed, reaching in to grab Sukuna’s finger carefully, and wrapping it in the sealing paper full of runes. You walked towards the center and closed your eyes, soon your domain dissolving. You fell to the ground, hearing a crack. You complained as all the pain started to rush in. Your ankle, your head, and something else that you couldn’t pinpoint since your whole body hurt. You clutched the finger in your hand as Nanami and Inumaki approached you.

“So can I get that promotion?” You coughed, showing Nanami the finger. Toge helped you up, wrapping your arm around his shoulders to aid you in walking. Your ankle was slightly burnt by the poison of the first grade, your head was bleeding, your eyes were shot with blood from the impact and you were sure something else inside of you was very wrong.

“You’ve performed well, you’ve got my respect,” Nanami admitted, watching the veil dissolve from above you, showing the clear blue sky that started to darken. You had taken longer than you thought inside. “I will send my best possible recommendation”

You smiled, walking on par with Inumaki. “What are you doing here?”

“Salmon” He replied firmly, holding you closer to him as you approached the car. You shook your head.

“I’m okay, you didn’t have to get so worried” You groaned as Nanami helped you inside the car. You held your head, feeling the blood trickle down your neck.

“Why is he asleep?” You shrugged at Nanami’s question, and he turned to Inumaki who instantly looked away.

He sighed, defeated, under the older male’s gaze and unzipped his collar. “Wake up” Inumaki spoke, waking Ijichi up, who seemed panicked.

“You got any bandages around here?” You sat up and rummaged around the car, opening the glove compartment to find some. “Eye drops? Anyone?” Nanami tossed you a bottle of Refresh Tears. “Thank you. Ugh, I’m starving” You wrapped your head the best you could. Without you noticing, Toge took a picture.

“Take us to the burger place” Toge commanded Ijichi, who did as he asked.

“Damn, you’re pretty rebellious today” You laughed, flipping your septum down to clean it of any possible blood. He just gave you a pretty, innocent smile and shrugged. Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose but didn’t do anything to stop the antics.

[ Inumaki Toge @ Jujutsu Tokyo Tech: 1 attachment ]

[ anyone else done? ]

[ Megumi Fushiguro: inumaki you’re not supposed to accompany anyone on their mission ]

[ Inumaki Toge: i don’t give a rat’s ass ]

[ we’re going to the A&W burger joint, does anyone want anything? ]

[ Gojo Satoru @ Jujutsu Tokyo Tech: i want a double patty cheeseburger with cheese fries and the limited edition cotton candy milkshake! use my card :D ]

[ Maki Zen’in: how did you even get into this group chat? ]

[ Nobara Kugisaki: wait we’re using gojo’s card?? BUY THE WHOLE PLACE ]

[ Itadori Yuuji: i want 30 burgers!!!! ]

Back in the school, you and Toge walked holding several bags in your hands, enjoying each other’s company as you walked towards the dining room, hearing all the chatter and the music.

Before you could open the door, Inumaki called out for you “Cookie” He signaled you over to his side with his head. You hummed in questioning as you approached him, observing as he leaned in and gave you a kiss on your bandaged forehead, to show how proud he was of your work that day. I love you.

#jujutsu kaisen #inumaki #inumaki toge #jjk inumaki #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #jjk fluff #10times1occ

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isaac-lahey-imagines · 4 years

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Imagine #69

How timely that this imagine is the 69th (I promise you, I did not do it on purpose) I have. Also, hope all is doing okay during this quarantine. Can’t believe that the last time I’ve updated here was last year.

Summary: Isaac’s injured and can’t do *fondue (hope my readers know where this came from) – much to his dismay – and you decided to make fun of the situation he was in and tease.

Warning(s): Mentions of blood/wounds, innuendos (children, please), censored curses, sexual frustration maybe?

~~~

“I’m not yet supposed to dive into these kinds of duties and yet,” you mumbled under your breath, and you were sure Isaac heard it.

“I’m not even licensed yet,” you added with an exasperated breath.

Isaac only cocked his head to the side to look at your face that was bowed down, he was trying to catch your attention with the small smile on his face coaxing you to look at him.

You were currently tending to his wounds the best you can with the best that you have in your first aid kit – that was slowly depleting of its supplies of bandages and disinfectants, the more frequent Isaac came home to your apartment wounded. Actually, your first aid kit was getting closer to what Melissa had in her first aid at the hospital what with the needles and thread for more severe gashes.

You sighed, your dabbing motion on the wound with the antiseptic getting a bit harder and heavier with how Isaac’s face started to wince from the pressure.

“Are you unhappy with me?” He asked quietly, his face a bit closer to you now with the smile replaced by a small pout on those soft pink lips.

At that question, you looked up to meet those blue eyes that instantly faded all the frustration you felt at that very moment.

“No, Isaac.” You sighed again, this time smiling softly. “I’m not.”

Isaac straightened in his seat and gave you the knee-buckling smile he only reserved for you before proceeding to plant a kiss on your forehead and a peck on your lips.

“Great!” He suddenly exclaimed rather loudly that made you jerk in surprise, your brows furrowed at the sudden change. “Then can you please help me with these?”

He then proceeded to turn around in his seat and remove his shirt to show you larger gashes on his back. Unbelievable!

“Isaac fkn Lahey!” Your night was going to be long one.

Since the wounds were from an alpha, Scott informed you that it would take longer to heal. Which meant you were going to change and redress his wounds every so often – which at this moment, you were thankful Melissa decided to also drop by some medical supplies.

“Hope you’re doing fine on your reviews,” she mentioned while she arranged the bandages and needles in your own toolbox (aka first aid).

“I was. Until Isaac came in that state,” you gestured to the werewolf seated on the sofa having a rather deep conversation with Scott about what happened to them last night.

“Well if you have any questions, you can always ask me.” She smiled, knowing that someone studying for the licensure exam for Nursing would be so much helpful with someone already in the field to help you with your studies.

“I will, thank you.” You answered with a smile.

After Scott and his mom left, you went back to your position in the living room – you on the floor with your review notes and textbooks on the coffee table and Isaac lying on the couch idly scrolling through his phone.

He was sipping on your coffee when a thought popped in your head.

“Can I ride you?”

You can hear Isaac spurt the coffee out back into the mug and spilling some on his shirt.

You weren’t sure if it was possible for Isaac’s head to look at you so fast you were scared that he might decapitate himself, his eyes were dark and wide and you had to keep yourself from laughing at the expression he had on his face right now.

“I’m sorry, what?” he blinked a few times before taking a deep breath.

“You heard me.” You replied plainly, turning around and facing your werewolf with your arm now resting on the sofa beside his torso and the other resting on your knee that was propped up. You had your chin resting on the back of your head, looking rather innocently at Isaac – which internally he had to fight with himself from taking you then and there due to you studying – and his injuries.

“I asked if I can ride you, your wolf I mean.”

Isaac carefully placed the mug back on the coffee table before running his hands on his face with a rather frustrated sigh.

“Y/N, I love you.” He pursed his lips before trying to sit himself up on the sofa.

“But you can’t ride me-my wolf.” He coughed a little as he answered. “I’m injured, plus I can’t shift yet.”

You could only stare back at those blue eyes that were growing darker as you can feel Isaac’s sexual frustration – his abstinence was rather extended with the state he was in.

When he couldn’t take the sudden thought of you bouncing on top of him from your question earlier, he excused himself as he took your coffee mug to refill it.

1-0, you tallied in your head as you watched him in the kitchen with a sly smile.

You can see Isaac at the corner of your eyes watching you intently, his phone completely forgotten now.

Flipping another page of your textbook, his eyes just twitched the slightest at the sound of you sucking. He leaned his head back against the backrest of the armchair to the right of the living room before he groaned and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose or if you just didn’t hear yourself because you had your in-ear earphones on as you studied.

It went on like this for about 5 minutes, with that wretched thing moving back and forth inside your mouth until you turned your head to see him staring at you with his mouth slightly hanging with his tongue on the corner of his mouth and his eyes darkening the longer he stared at you. You raised a brow as if to ask him ‘what?’ before chomping down on the popsicle and smiling at him.

Isaac’s eyes widened at what he just saw, he never knew that he could feel so aroused yet scared shtless at the same time.

“Baby,” he finally spoke, your pet name sounding rather husky as it came out of his mouth as he carded his fingers through the mop of curls on top of his head.

“Yep?” you answered with a pop on the letter P of the word.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Studying, what does it look like I’m doing?” You asked back.

“Want one?” You offered when he didn’t answer. “There’s a different flavor in the freezer.”

My god she’s playing with me. Isaac thought, pinching his nose bridge when you looked away and continued what you were doing with your mouth.

2-0, you tallied again in your head.

When you got out of the building and saw Isaac casually leaning against his car in the parking lot of the establishment, you felt butterflies in your stomach at how much the moment reminded you of the first time he picked you up after school when both of you only started dating.

“There’s my topnotcher!” He congratulated, his arms already open wide as he caught you in a big warm hug. You were still careful with him since his wounds were still present, though it wasn’t as grave as before. “How was it?”

“It was hard,” you groaned against his chest before looking up. “But I guess my hard work paid off.”

“I bet,” Isaac hugged you to himself one more time before kissing your head. “C’mon, the pack’s been waiting at the old diner to celebrate.”

“Wait, they know?” You asked, pausing in his arms before you let Isaac open the car door for you and help you in.

“Of course they know, I couldn’t help boast that I have a smart ass for a girlfriend.” He said before closing your door and walking to the driver’s side.

Buckling your seatbelt and waiting for him to settle down, you giggled a little as you started feeling your phone vibrate with congratulatory notifications from your friends and family.

“You love this smart ass,” you scoffed, liking the feeling of being praised at that moment.

“I do love your ass,” he replied, winking at you before sliding his sunglasses back and revving the car.

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks get flustered at the gesture and how he looked good on the driver’s seat right now. Despite being together for how many years now, you can’t help but feel like the two of you are still ‘new’ in the dating scene.

It was one of those things you loved about Isaac, the way he made you feel like you were still in high school with his hand holding yours as it rests on your lap while he drove. He would occasionally kiss your knuckles and rest his warm cheek against it, telling you how much he loved you to bits.

It wasn’t a long drive before you arrived to see your friends already settled in and ordering.

When the bell above the door of the diner rang, all eyes on the table landed on you and it was full of loud cheers. Hugs and high-fives were exchanged before you all settled down.

“Can’t believe we already have a doctor in the pack,” Liam said rather proudly, Mason and the boys agreed.

“Mm, not yet.” You paused him, swallowing the fries you were just chewing. “I’ll be studying for that in the future, just you wait.”

Lydia cut in with a smile. “We’re all so proud of you, Y/N!”

“Bet you nailed everything,” Stiles added, his arm resting behind Lydia.

“Sleepless nights and coffee paid off,” you repeated from earlier.

“I’d also like to make a special mention to Mrs. McCall,” you eyed Scott. “Remind me to thank her later when we drop by your place.”

“Couldn’t have done it without her help too, you know.” You added.

“Don’t forget to thank yourself,” Isaac reminded you, knowing how much time and effort you did and made possible for you to be able to be at the top ten.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You agreed. “Fist me.”

3-0, you tallied again in your head.

Everyone at the table had mixed reactions at what they heard.

Milkshake came out of Liam’s nose as Mason almost choked on the cola he was drinking before handing Liam a tissue. Scott and Stiles mouth flew open as fries and chewed burger dropped down on their plates, the ladies blushed when they heard it before looking to you with a questioning look at what you meant.

Isaac was still coughing as he hit his chest with a fist.

“Y/N!” Lydia called for you in a scolding manner.

“What?” You said, chuckling a little when you only had a fist lifted for Isaac to fist bump it.

“Don’t leave me hanging, babe.” You called for Isaac who was still struggling to understand what he just heard.

Hope that was okay! Missed writing for Isaac <3

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey imagines #my imagines

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yelena-bellova · 4 years

Text

Please Let Me Love You: Steve Rogers x Reader

Plot: Reader and Steve have loved each other for years, but the Reader’s insecurities and grief could kill their chances of it ever happening.

Prompt: “Please let me love you” “No, I’ll only end up breaking your heart” ”What if I’m okay with that?”

Warnings: Language, grief, steamy situations (no smut)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written for Steve so I might be a little rusty. I’m also shit at writing steam so my apologies LOL This was done for @hopingforbarnes writing challenge, go check out the other works that were part of it! (Also, sorry for no ‘read more’ for some reason my phone won’t let me add it 🙄 Enjoy!

*gif is not mine but if it’s yours let me know so I can credit you*

———————

It was one of those nights.

I sat in the living room of the compound, wrapped in a thick blanket on the couch. The cable box’s clock said it was 3AM, sleep definitely wasn’t my friend tonight. I’d tossed and turned for an hour before my body finally gave in, only to be woken up a few hours later by a nightmare. I was back in Wakanda watching Thor slide his axe into Thanos’ deep chest, hearing the titan’s cries of pain. I watched as he snapped his fingers and disappeared into whatever portal he’d suddenly created. But the worst part was watching my teammates disappear again. I saw Bucky drop to his knees and dissolve, I grabbed Wanda’s ashes in my hands, I cried Sam’s name as I searched the forest for him. Then I woke up, clutching the sheets in my hand and letting my tears fall.

I sipped at my glass of whiskey, Tony had curated an amazing selection of alcohol and he’d left it at the compound when he’d retired. Times like these were when I wished he was still here. If I was being honest, I was fairly jealous of him. He’d walked away. Wiped his hands of all responsibility, married Pepper and built a new life for himself. It sounded nice, but I knew that my opportunity to have it had long passed.

“Trouble sleeping?”

I turned my head quickly to see Steve walking out of the elevator towards me.

“No,” I replied dryly, “I just really enjoy the enthralling nightlife.”

He smirked and made his way over, sitting in a chair a few feet away from me. Steve was no stranger to nightmares and he’d been trying to help me deal with mine for years. He’d come into my room when he heard me screaming and would stay with me until I calmed down. He’d whisper reassurances that I was safe and that he was there for me. And the terrible part was, I loved it. Even worse, I needed him.

“I didn’t hear you scream or else I would have come in.” Steve said quietly, watching me stare at the contents of my glass.

“Tonight was an anomaly, I simply woke up crying,” I said, not daring to look him in the eyes. It was too dangerous...

“You still could have woken me up, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to be a big girl and deal with my own issues at some point.” I responded before emptying the last bit of whiskey into my mouth, savoring the burn.

Steve leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, “It’s not a weakness to need help, y/n.”  I chuckled humorlessly, “Steve, I can’t run to you every time I have a nightmare forever.”

“Yes, you can,” he replied softly, “You could wake me up every night and I would still come running to help you, to hold you, whatever you needed.”

I finally met his gaze, his stare so intense I felt like he could see right through me. And I hated that. I hated the feeling of vulnerability and someone being able to tear down the walls I worked so hard to put up. Steve was the only person who had knocked down practically every single one without me even realizing.

“It’s not your job to save me, Captain. I think I’m a little beyond saving. Maybe you should spend your time helping people who can be helped.”

Steve didn’t budge at my sharp rejection, he simply drew a deep breath and said, “You can keep trying to push me away but it’s not going to work. I’m not going to abandon you to deal with this on your own.”

Tears flooded my eyes at his words, knowing the meaning behind them. We’d never actually talked about it but we both knew there was something there. The whole team, when there had been a whole team, knew it too. We were teased mercilessly about it. It didn’t seem to be a secret that Steve and I basically belonged to each other, but never officially. But things had changed in the past few years. It wasn’t as simple as it would’ve been pre-Accords and certainly not Pre-Snap. The only thing that had stayed the same throughout all the shit we’d been through was Steve’s devotion to me.

Steve left his seat and kneeled down at my legs, resting his hand gently on my knee,

“Y/n...” his tone was desperate, “Please let me love you.”

I let the whiskey glass fall in my lap and turned my face away from Steve. My dam was breaking and I feared one more word that I didn’t deserve would cause it to crack and flood the entire room.

“No, I’ll only end up breaking your heart.” I whispered, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak at a higher volume.

Steve’s thumb traced the curve of my knee, “What if I’m okay with that?”

There it was.

The dam broke.

“No!” I exclaimed as I threw the blanket off my torso and stood to my feet. The whiskey glass rolled across the floor and I walked in the opposite direction. I turned to Steve with tears streaming down my cheeks, “Steve, I can’t do this! I’m not the girl for you, no matter how much I want to be. I’m so fucked up from the past few years I don’t even recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I’m so far from who I was when we met and it breaks my heart. I’m so fucking damaged that there is no way in hell I could love you way you deserve to be loved. You deserve so much better than someone who wakes up every night screaming and can’t get out of bed most days or someone who gets drunk to try and make themselves forget.”  My vision was clouded from the tears but I could see the broken expression on Steve’s face. I’d only seen that look once, when he sat in the Wakandan soil holding his best friend’s ashes. The fact that I was the one causing him that pain made me feel like a piece of shit. Yet for some reason, I continued…  “We had our chance and we didn’t take it, we can’t go back and change the past, Steve.” I said with a quiet sniffle, I was breaking my own heart along with Steve’s.

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it a second later and began to leave the room. I watched him walk to the elevator, his posture resembling a man who’d just lost in battle. Before the doors closed, he turned to me,

“I don’t care if you’re not the same person you used to be, I’m always going to love you. Every single version of you.”

Then the doors closed and he was gone.

It didn’t take long for me to sink to the floor and start sobbing. Here I was trying to protect us both and yet I felt like I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. This wasn’t some random guy I’d met at a coffee shop, this was Steve. Steve. I’d never wanted to be with someone like I’d wanted to be with him. Memories began to flood my mind of the moments that caused me to fall in love with him, each one more painful than the last. But the worst one had happened three years ago, only a few days before Bruce had called telling us Vision was in danger.

——

“Why the hell did you do that, Rogers?” I exclaimed, my voice echoing in the nearly empty safe house we were currently staying in. Sam and I had dragged Steve out of the battle we’d just been in, Natasha covering us. We’d carried all 200 pounds of muscle back to the house and he was currently laid out in front of me on a cot. Sam and Nat were doing routine perimeter checks while I was in charge of taking care of Steve’s wound.

“What was I supposed to do?” Steve asked through gritted teeth as I began removing his armor, “Let you get shot?”

“Yes! I didn’t ask you to jump in front of me!” I replied, throwing the top layer to the side and beginning to cautiously peel away the tee shirt underneath. Steve hissed as fresh air hit the bullet wound, once his abdomen was exposed I grabbed the nearby first ad kit.

Steve didn’t reply to my last comment, he simply let me work. Though he may have been a super soldier, he still very much felt pain. As I sterilized the wound and located the bullet, he let out a groan and I mumbled an apology. Thankfully, the bullet hadn’t hit any major organs so he wouldn’t need surgery. Thank God, because I wasn’t ready to perform a medical procedure in a glorified cabin in the middle of Romania’s forests.

I removed the bullet easily, only getting a moan from Steve, I could tell his accelerated healing was already kicking in. I still needed to stitch him up and to do that, I needed to be at a different angle.

“Sorry to make this awkward but, uh…” I said while looking from Steve’s face to his lap.

“No, it’s fine.” he responded passively, I had a feeling he was too exhausted to care.

I nodded and stood up, then carefully lowered myself into his lap. This was beyond awkward, for me at least. I’d never told Steve how I felt about him and here I was sitting on his crotch while he was shirtless. There were thoughts running through my head that were making me blush and I just prayed he didn’t notice it. Regaining my focus I took the bloodied gauze pad off his wound and grabbed the needle and thread in the kit.

“This part usually sucks, hold onto me if you need to, kay?” I said softly, he nodded in response. If the bullet removal hadn’t caused him to scream, he’d be fine with a few stitches.

As soon as the needle pierced his skin, his hand flew to my waist. It took every ounce of concentration I had to keep my mind on the task at hand rather than how I could feel the warmth of his palm through my suit. I pulled the first stitch through and he moaned slightly, squeezing my hip softly. I inhaled sharply and froze for half a second at the sensation, he was making it harder and harder to focus. As I willed myself to continue, I got through the next one without any movement from Steve. Once I was placing the third out of four, he hissed slightly and his other hand found it’s way to my other hip gripping it tightly. I gasped softly, but Steve didn’t seem to notice it, his eyes were closed. I was embarrassed at how much his simple touch affected me and didn’t need him knowing.

“Last one,” I whispered shakily, he looked through his eyelashes to meet my gaze and nodded.

I placed the last one quickly, Steve’s palms burned through the fabric of my suit as he squeezed my waist one final time. As soon as I was done I dropped the needle back in the kit and let my hands drop, my breathing had picked up without me even realizing it. I quickly remembered I needed to bandage the wound, which would require us to strike an even more intimate position.

Without meeting his eyes, I said, “I need to wrap the wound so you’re going to need to s-sit up.”

Steve was catching his breath, from what I didn’t know, and nodded silently. I knew he’d need help so as he removed his hands from my waist to brace himself on the cot, I placed my hands on his shoulders to bring him up. He groaned as he sat up, not only the wound hurting but his muscles undoubtably sore as well. I quickly grabbed the large gauze pad and folded it, holding it to the freshly stitched wound. I reached also for the tape that would wrap around his torso and hold the gauze in place. Pressing it gently, I began to wrap the tape around Steve, reaching behind him with one hand and keeping the other pressed to his abdomen. His muscles tensed under my touch before relaxing after, his hands snaking up to my sides, higher than they’d previously been. We were practically face to face so I tried to keep my composure but damn, he was making it hard. I continued wrapping until satisfied with my work, I placed a clip to hold it in place and dropped the remainders in the kit.

Neither of us said anything, we simply sat there with Steve holding me firmly in place and our eyes finally meeting. The danger had passed, we were safe, and I now had time to process what had placed us in this situation.

“Why’d you take that bullet for me?” I asked hesitantly, my voice no higher than a whisper.

His hands found their way back to my hips, his gaze somehow both gentle and intense. Goosebumps flooded my skin between the two sensations of touch and sight.

“I wasn’t about to let you die,” Steve said, his chest rumbling from the deep tone of his voice. I could feel his thumb tracing my hip bone and it sent a chill up my spine, this time I knew he noticed. His lips quirked ever so slightly, he could tell he was having an effect on me. My hands went to his shoulders and gripped them tightly as if to anchor myself to him. Steve moved so his arms were enveloping my waist and puling me closer to him.

My breath caught in my throat at the movement, my lips parted as I held Steve’s stare.

“I-I’m not even sure how to thank you.” I replied softly, shifting slightly in his lap causing him to let out a small whimper. Now it was my turn for ny lips to curl a little, realizing that I had just as much of an effect on him.

Steve shook his head gently, our foreheads nearly touching, “No thanks necessary, sweetheart.”  We were both a little touch starved and we both knew there’d been tension between us for years. That was a recipe for either disaster or something delicious, and I wanted nothing more than to find out which one it was. I let my fingers gently run down Steve’s biceps before resting there, causing him to bite his lip and hold me tighter. He pressed our foreheads together, our noses touching and our lips a mere inch or two away from meeting. As much as I wanted to make the next move, I could have stayed in the moment for much longer, simply savoring the electricity. One of Steve’s hands dragged up to my back and splayed out across it as if he was trying to press me as close to him as he could. But to get any closer, we’d have to cross a line.

As our breaths mingled, I knew that it was the moment I’d been waiting for for years. I was going to tell Steve that I loved him. The man had taken a fucking bullet for me, plus with our current position I was pretty confident in my chances of him returning the sentiment.

I pulled away to look at him, his pupils blown and his expression soft, “Steve, I-“

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Natasha and Sam were back.

The moment was gone.

—

I wiped my eyes as I sat on the floor, leaned up against the couch. The tears were finally beginning to slow, but that didn’t mean the sadness had. Steve and I hadn’t spoken of that day and we hadn’t had another one resembling it. My skin tingled at the memories of Steve’s touch, how close we had come to getting everything we wanted. I’d wished so many times to go back to that moment and have Natasha and Sam stay out a few minutes more. All I needed was thirty seconds. All I needed was a chance.

A chance Steve had just given me.

I ran my hands through my hair, how fucking stupid was I? He was standing in front of me saying that he’d take me however I am. He wanted to love me, broken as I was, he still loved me in my damaged state. We’d done this dance for years, we’d come so close before and here I was ready to throw everything away brcause I was stuck in my own grief. I had a shot at happiness, at love, at feeling alive again. I had a shot with the man I’d been in love with for a decade.

And I wasn’t going to miss it.

I sprang to my feet and crossed the room to the elevator, a purpose in each of my steps. I pressed the button to the living quarters and shot up the short distance before the doors opened. Remembering Natasha was only a few rooms down from me and Steve, I realized I couldn’t be as loud in my confession as I felt. Nerves hit when I was only a few steps from Steve’s door. What if I’d already missed my chance downstairs when I’d been so cruel? What if I was about to make a complete fool out of myself? As my fist rested an inch away from the door, I almost pulled away and retired to my room.

No, I had to try at least.

I tapped the door softly and held my breath, I hadn’t even planned out what I’d wanted to say. There was no time to think as Steve opened the door quietly, his eyes widening a little at the sight of me. He definitely hadn’t expected to see me again tonight. I stood there awkwardly rubbing my hands together trying to think of the right thing to say. How was I supposed to convey ten years of loving someone into the small window I had? I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. God bless Steve, he stood there patiently waiting for me to be ready.

One of my favorite things about our friendship was that Steve and I had always been able to communicate with each others eyes. It had served us well in battle, on team game nights but I needed it to serve me well now more than ever. I needed him to see every ounce of love and longing I had for him in one simple look. His lips parted while I stared at him as if he could read my mind, his own eyes coming alight.

He pulled me to him so fast I barely had time to register our lips meeting.

I winded my arms around Steve’s neck as I drank in the moment, trying to get as close to him as I could. Both of his hands gripped my back, holding me as if I was about to disappear. Our lips moved together frantically, we were trying to make up for ten years of lost time. He pulled me into his room and I kicked the door shut, never breaking the kiss or losing contact. Steve’s hands slid down to my hips, squeezing ever so slightly and causing a moan to escape me. He was spurred on further now, running his hands down my sides to hit my thighs and lift me up. I quickly wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us towards his bed, sitting down on the edge. Steve’s lips broke from mine to attach at my jawline to press featherlight kisses, I let out a soft groan and tangled one of my hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. These were the lines I’d longed to cross three years ago in that safe house, this is how I’d wanted that story to end. Steve’s ministrations moved down my neck, kissing and sucking at spots that made me moan louder. He was chasing my pleasure as if it was his own and it only added to what I felt for him in the moment.

Once he reached my shoulder, his lips ghosted over my skin and he chuckled. I pulled away, my chest heaving, hoping he wasn’t beginning to regret our actions.

“Are you okay?” I whispered through my pants.

He nodded, his forehead pressed against my skin, “I just never thought I’d get to hold you like this again.”  There it was, the exact moment where my heart burst with affection for Steven Grant Rogers when I thought it was impossible. Only he could cause such a heated moment only to make it the sweetest.

He pulled his head back to look at me, his lips swollen, his hair messy and his eyes lit up. He’d never looked more beautiful and he’d never looked more at ease. I wanted nothing more than to love him the way he deserved and beyond.

I moved my hands to his cheeks, “I love you so much, Steve. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”

He stared at me with lips parted and a lopsided grin, “Sweetheart, I think we’ve both fucked this up enough over the past ten years. You getting upset one time isn’t going to scare me off.”

I smirked, “Language, Captain.”

Steve laughed lightly before pressing a kiss to the inside of my palm,

“Promise me,” he said softly, his eyes closed as he left more kisses in my hand, “Promise me you won’t leave, not just tonight.”  My heart broke at the fact that my insecurities and inability to deal with my emotions had caused him so much pain. He’d been waiting years for me to come out of my hole of grief, just hoping for a moment like the one we were in the midst of. I wanted to make up for every missed chance and lost opportunity we’d seen.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, pressing our foreheads together and dragging Steve’s hand to my chest to rest over my heart, “You’re stuck with me, Rogers.”

“Not a bad proposition if you ask me,” he grinned, tracing his thumb across the neckline of my tank top, “I love you so much.”  I smiled, tracing a finger over his lower lip, “I love you too.”  He connected our lips again, this time softer than when I’d entered the room. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right in the world. I knew outside the compound, the world was still on fire. In the morning we’d have to worry about missions and doing what we could to help rebuild but for now? For right now, all Steve and I had to do was make up for ten years of lost time.

#steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x you #steve rogers and reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #hopingforbarnes250writingchallenge

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boogiewrites · 4 years

Text

No. 9: The Body

Chapter One

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve, once a rebellious runaway had turned her life around through the help of others to now be a doctor. She tries to return the favor these days. When a mysterious man keeps popping up in her life, what will her natural talent for healing become when it finally meets someone else with abilities like hers? The introductory chapter.

Warnings/Tags: Meet Cute. Some medical/blood/injury stuff.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

From the view from her apartment window, only slightly obscured by the fire escape, Eve looked out on the gloomy sunrise falling over the New York City street below. The fog and steam from the light drizzle on the street grates blended with the haze of her coffee cup as she took a moment to gather herself, feel the calm at the moment before the chaos of her job began.

Eve was all about function over fashion these days. Her childhood had held many questionable punk ensembles and thrifted, or even stolen pieces that were worn down to bare threads. But now her clothes usually consisted of scrubs, so she opted for comfort usually. She savors the last of her coffee and the peace of her small home and makes her way out into the world to begin another long, chaotic 12-hour shift.

The phrase, “business as usual” couldn’t really apply to work in an Emergency Room but when you worked an ER in New York, literally anything could be called as such. So the day began, and so did the rush of decisions, needles, charts, and blood as the job called for. She changed out her off duty uniform of pants that compromised mostly of spandex. For the season warm fleece-lined leggings were her go-to currently. Her boots needed replacing, as she’d bought new sneakers for work but neglected her everyday ones. What a metaphor for her life that was. You couldn’t really wear anything but boots in the city winter as the mess on the streets would seep through anything else. She peeled off her layers of a tank top, t-shirt, hoodie, and jacket to stuff into her locker and got into her sterile looking and feeling scrubs that served as her protection from whatever the wild night of New York emergency room drama would unfold. “Doctor Corpuz to the ER please.” She heard the intercom over her headphones. It was already starting. —

The night had been average, traffic accidents, assault, chest pains, overdose, nothing that would throw Eve off her game. Her years of residency had assured that. As usual, she became drained the longer the night went on, hitting the caffeine hard to make it through the last hours.

“Uh, hey, Eve we’ve got this guy in room 3 and he’s being…. a bit belligerent,“ the woman rolled her eyes as she casually leaned on the counter “He’s scaring the intern, you might wanna go help deescalate.” A half-smile that made it clear that the news delivered was something said more times than either of them could count now. “Since you’re so good at it and all.” She cracks her gum and even though it’s delivered sarcastically, the jab was actually true.

“Ugh.. why do I have to be the one that’s good at this?” She huffs and shrugs with heavy arms as she throws a playful pout her friend’s way. “Why can’t you just go yell at them? It sure scares me.” Eve quips as she stretches to prepare herself.

“I already did and he did not respond well to authority so… in you go Mr. Rogers.” She hits Eve on the shoulder with the patient’s file and she dramatically grasps it.

“Tired of being good cop. Let me yell at the next one alright?” She says back as she walks away.

“Got it Doc.” She answers as she begins to walk away.

Eve takes a deep breath and focuses before entering the room, trying to bring up that positive side of herself for the task at hand.

“I told you what I told ya, alright?” She could see from the chart and the bleeding man lying on a bed in front of her in a stance all black and leather ensemble. Her first thought was oh god what did he get stabbed with? He looks like he’s been at some BDSM party that went south, in the bad sense, and fast. It was multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and he was ready to be sewn up but wasn’t agreeing to be still despite the pain medicine he’d been given.

“Hey, dude we can we just shhh a little? Bring down the volume a touch?” She asks as the black-haired man turned his head her way. His dark brown eyes were glazed and he was clearly feeling the pain pills. A heavy brow lay low and angry as he sized her up a bit slower than he was accustomed to.

“Who are you?” He asks with a bite.

“I could ask you the same thing. I’m the ER Doctor tonight, Eve Corpuz. And you are?”

“I’m nobody.” He answers at a lower volume.

“Well Nobody, looks like I’ve got to stitch you up. Would you mind if I got to it?” She snaps on her gloves as the nurse pushes a tray with her instruments on it towards her.

“I need to get out of here.” He says, voice now at a more acceptable volume.

“If you let me sew you up you’ll be out of here right after and then we’ll all be happy, alright?” She gives smile his way that was softer than her tone. “I think I’ve got it from here Sherry. I won’t be needing any help will I Nobody? I can sew you up real quick and we can get on with our nights? Since you seem so busy and all?”

He looks to the other nurse and back to the doctor, muscles still tense but in a much more passive body language. “Yeah…okay.” He nods and his clearly scowling eyes kept on the nurse.

“Alright we’re good here. I’ll finish up and you can get Mr. Nobody here some pain control to take home ready?”

“I’ll be back in with the forms.” She responds, another way to let the doctor know she would be close by. After a shared nod, they said, “Yes I’m sure.” She was left alone with the scowling stranger.

“I don’t like her.” He pointed and laid back down on the table.

“That’s fair.” Eve shrugs, seeing a calm and casual approach was working best. “I just want to get you as best prepared as I can to heal up well, alright? I’m not gonna hound you for info like they were. That’s not my job.” She gives a humorous smile as she preps the areas on his stomach.

He blinks at her, looking down at her hands as she touches the wounds, and his nose twitches from pain. He says nothing as his attention is averted and her tone not aggressive and being reasonable with him.

“This part is gonna hurt. I’m not gonna bullshit you alright? But it’s not as bad as being stabbed so… Got me?”

His eyes meet hers. his round and partially, deep-set against full dark brows and goatee against his brown skin. “What kind of doctor says bullshit?” He asks with a head tilt.

“The kind that gets shit done.” She smiles and shrugs. “I’ve been on the other side of this situation before, I know it sucks and I’m not here to be the bad guy. I’m not a snitch… a narc or whatever, I’m just Eve and I wanna help. Because I know what it’s like.” She says earnestly and he doesn’t detect any bullshit as she’d said. He could read people, and he found her a little odd but… genuine.

“You been stabbed before?”

“I have.” She nods. “It fuckin hurts doesn’t it?” She laughs and nods, testing the equipment.

“Yeah. It does.” He gives a huff with a more relaxed expression before wincing.

“Where did you get stabbed?” He asks, brain still trying to read her.

“In the arm.” She nods casually.

“Ow.”

“Yeah ow.” She smiles he continues keeping her focus on cleaning up her space and open her tools.

“Why?” he asks.

“Why did you get stabbed?” she gives him a no-nonsense glance

“I was saving a cat from a tree.” his testy tone was full of pain med induced confidence.

“So did the tree stab you or the cat stab you with a 4-inch blade?”

“The cat.” He responds was as snarkily as she had in their back and forth.

“Mean cat.” She replies with a more casual smile as they begin to feel each other out.

“Yeah. He was a real asshole.”

She begins tapping the area and he doesn’t react. “Think we’re good now. Don’t move, please?”

“Kay.” He nods and lets his head fall back. As she works he watches her face. “So how did you get stabbed?”

“Would you believe a cat got me too?”

He gives a little confused smile. “I wouldn’t actually.”

“Then we have that in common.”

He grunts in appreciation for her attitude. Guess he’d have to work harder to figure her out. She looked warm, yet severe and her faded tattoos peeking out from her collar and sleeves were proving very interesting to him. She didn’t look or more interestingly feel like a doctor to him. He was used to pretending to be things he wasn’t, but if she was, she was better than him at it.

“Looks like I need to get more stuff.” She mutters, looking around the room. She covers two of three wounds and sighs. “I’ll be right back okay?”

“Okay.” He says with a face that she believed. But it wasn’t the first time her caring nature would’ve been taken advantage of, and the entertaining stranger was gone when she returned to the room. Nothing but the blood left behind and a warm indent on the bed. He was good, she thought. Actually, she was downright impressed he got past her. It’d be a headache for paperwork later but a good story to tell at least.

————————————

The next night the stranger named Nobody was the farthest thing from Eve’s mind. She was enjoying her take out, the container in hand, and chopsticks tapping to the playlist titled “classical: chill”. She’d made it to play when she studied in school and during residency and apparently she’d conditioned herself to be more relaxed while she played it.

The sun had just gone down and the winter chill was heavy around her windows. In her functional fashion, she wore sweats and slippers and layers topped with a hoodie. She was swaying and focusing on how good cold lo mein could be. The light of her standing lamp illuminating the solid rectangle of open space that was her kitchen and living room. Much like her fashion, it was cozy and functional. Nothing brash or bold, just neutral colors and lots of comforts.

Eve was winding down to sleep off her last shift, making some time to eat and enjoy herself before having to get back to it the next morning. Her dark hair was damp and twisted on top of her head, glasses mended with floss sat unsecured on her nose as she ate with her eyes closed. During the weeks where she had close shifts she usually took it easy on herself, her hours could vary wildly, and sometimes that worked in her advantage and sometimes it didn’t. But it wasn’t anything new to her. She figured if she made it through residency she could make it through anything, and right now the coziness, the juxtaposition of inside her little warm home and the biting January cold that lay just outside the windows. They sat with curtains that fell ceiling to floor, mostly drawn. Being on the third floor she had never been too worried about anyone seeing into her windows. But perhaps she should have been.

That, forgotten in this moment, Nobody was taking full advantage of the small space left by the curtains. He peered in, watching her. He drummed his gloved fingers over two healed fresh scared marks near his ribs. He could find anything sinister about her. She wasn’t any sort of plant in the hospital and she wasn’t there looking for him. She seemed like a nice enough woman actually, but he knew there had to be something he was missing.

He continued this for days. He would follow her around, trying to figure out what her deal was. He’d become a bit preoccupied with it, as was his nature. Since his return to the city, he’d been going from vigilante case to case to distract himself. It felt like old times in fleeting moments, but when the chaos that had surrounded him recently came rushing back at him, he wasn’t one to wallow in his sadness. Rather it hung around as he decided to go back to doing the thing he knew best. Without connects at the police anymore he was left with that familiar feeling of being a lone wolf . He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it, and it wasn’t on his list of things to contemplate soon. So a mystery woman, ironically enough was what the doctor ordered when it came to distractions.

So far she was pretty boring. As far as people with powers went, he guesses. She liked coffee, take out. Nothing that interesting, except that he was now totally healed, scarred and the pain was only a memory. She was a doctor, sure, but he’d never healed that fast in his life. He’d worked himself up to conspiracy theories of her using some new medicine that was being tested on civilians without their knowledge. But he found nothing of the sort. There wasn’t a lot on her when he searched her name. First-year doctor at a hospital, went to medical school and college, what you’d expect. She spent most of her time working, goes out with some women she works with on occasion, then went home. No following her to a seedy alley for a secret meeting or her making coded phone calls. No, she was just a woman who left her curtains open and he felt like he’d hit a wall on the investigation. So for now, she remained a collection of scribbled notes in his apartment.

His other antics, most that involved fighting and men with guns and knives, understandably led to frequent injuries for him, most ones he could handle. But it just so happened next time he got really hurt, he knew exactly which doctor to go to.

—————

Eve got there early, a shoulder gunshot wound and a split open brow. A not unusual combination. She approached the room, and no one but her seemed to recognize the man that lay in the bed.

She noticed he looked almost relieved at the sight of her, which she wasn’t used to.

“I got it.” She says a nod to the nurse as he approaches him.

“Listen, Doc you gotta get me out of here.” He begins.

“Yeah I knew that was you…” she gives him a side-eye. “I think you need either new hobbies or new friends because this is the second time in what… a month you’re in here?

“You do recognize me.”

“Of course I do you know how much of a pain in the ass paperwork is when you disappear?”

“No.”

“Clearly since you ran last time.” She says more severely as she begins the usual process again.

“Look, I saw an opportunity and I took it. Nothing personal.” he offers with a shake of his head. “ This time there’s gonna be cops and you can’t let them in here. They’ll see me and arrest me and I don’t want that.”

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why do they want to arrest you?”

“Because they think I did something.”

“Did you…?”

“No.”

She considers his eyes for a moment, whether he was being honest or not. “…What’s your name?”

“So you can tell the cops, yeah no thanks.”

“Fair…Then tell me how you got stabbed.” It was more of a demand than a request. A terms of service agreement for her involvement.

“I was after a bad guy and he fought back, then more bad guys showed up and one of them got me.” his response was as vague as he could get away with, they both knew that.

“You’re the good guy in this instance?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you some undercover…something-er-other?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Just a wanted criminal?”

“Wanted. Not a criminal.”

She sighs and he hisses as she begins to work on him. He notices her lips purse and her eyes making a decision beyond watching the work she was doing?

“Doctor Corpuz, there are some policemen that want to ask you some questions.

“Tell them I’m finishing up a procedure, to stay by the front desk and I’ll be out.”

“Yes, Doctor.” the nurse bows.

“Are you gonna help me or not?”

She stays quiet, finishing up sewing and reaching for a bandage. “Yeah.” she nods.

“Good, I didn’t want to have to hurt you.”

She swings her eyes his way in a clear glare that told him she did not find his joke funny. “You aren’t helping your case any random nobody who’s been stabbed multiple times in the past month. You clearly are good at making decisions, maybe I should tell them about you.” she retorts with more sting and she gives his stomach a harsher pat before moving away.

“Uh…it was..it would be funny if you knew me. I don’t want to hurt you…Eve Corpuz.” he glances at the tag and then her face.

“No, we’re back on a Doctor-patient relationship now.”

“But you’re still gonna help me get out?”

“Yes, fuck, I said I would already.” she shakes her head at him and motions for him to sit up. “I’ll have them at the front desk and distract them, and you go out the back way. You’ll get some attention, but not from them.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the coolest doctor they’ve ever met?”

“They haven’t actually. Usually, they’re too busy screaming in pain when we meet.” she cleans the space and begins to walk out the door as he catches her wrist.

“Thanks. Doctor. Eve. Whatever.”

“Well, you’ll owe me I guess. What good that does me when I don’t even know you’re name, huh? Just get out as quietly as possible, alright? Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.” he nods and releases his grip on her.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fanfic #diego gargeeves x ofc #tua fanfic #david castaneda #tua fandom #tua fan fic #tua fan fiction #diego hargreeves fic #diego hargreeves fan fiction

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indigomini · 7 years

Text

Blue Balls Bonus

I spent weeks on the ending for wwf, here are some scraps left on the editing room floor.

“Shhhh,” Kyungsoo hushes, unconsciously tapping a finger to his own lips as if that’ll make any difference in the world. “C’mon,” he implores, straightening them back up again. “No, no, stop that.” The thread has already started swiveling toward the other side of the room. Any second now.

The metallic scratch of a key knocking back the pins of a lock sends the puppies rushing toward the sound, yipping eagerly and abandoning Kyungsoo in his spot by the couch. He hangs his head in defeat and forces himself up as the door swings open.

“Whah…” Jongin puffs out in confusion before he collapses to the floor in giggles, dropping his books and scooping all three wriggling furballs up into his arms. “Look at you,” he coos, petting over the tiny hoodies Kyungsoo’s laboriously stuffed them all into.

“That took like half an hour,” Kyungsoo whines, dropping himself down onto the couch as Jongin takes a flurry of pictures of the puppies. “They were supposed to be modeling them nice and neatly.”

“Yeah, that never happens,” Jongin chuckles as if it were obvious. He nuzzles into their faces as he walks over and joins Kyungsoo, kicking his shoes off behind him. The kids are rambunctious by now, squirming and nipping at each other’s ears. Jongin can't even give him a hello kiss, with them leaping for his face and showering him with puppy kisses.

“Hmph,” Kyungsoo grumbles.

Jongin giggles and gives them each one last scratch behind the ears before herding them to the other side of the couch so he can scoot closer. “Sorry babies, I think Daddy's jealous,” he whispers conspiratorially to them before lying back on Kyungsoo's chest, craning his head up to look innocently into his face.

“I am not,” Kyungsoo insists sulkily, leaning down to plant a perfunctory kiss on Jongin's forehead.

Jongin smacks his lips loudly, puckering kissy faces until Kyungsoo finally gives in and kisses him on the corner of his mouth.

“Big baby.”

“Mm.”

He pulls Jongin's hand up to link their fingers together. It's a habit. Kyungsoo has been doing this ritual for the last year now, pressing his lips right over the red loop of thread on Jongin's ring finger as greeting. It doesn't feel like anything other than skin, and the faint fuzz on the knuckle tickles his bottom lip as he pulls away to admire the bow between their hands.

Something has changed in the last few months. They spent the first week with the newly returned thread on pins and needles, constantly expecting it to vanish. And then the first month. And then the sixth. It was hardest on Valentine's Day, where Jongin was convinced they were just given a one year taste, and it would disappear at midnight, like a fairy godmother's gift. The acceptance feels a little more permanent now. Kyungsoo doesn’t know whether it's just time smoothing things over or if Jongin has started to put some more faith back in the idea that maybe the universe isn't out to sabotage them.

“How was work?” Jongin asks, fiddling with Kyungsoo’s tie.

“Far,” Kyungsoo mopes. He boops Jongin on the nose as the younger rolls his eyes. True, he says that a lot, but it doesn’t change that he still means it. It’s weird to not see their thread move for hours because they’re too far from each other to perceive the changes. It’s weird to not see the bow when Jongin’s several blocks away, to think that the bow that keeps them attached is just dangling in the middle of the street somewhere, invisible to all walking around it.

“I’m sleepy,” Jongin whines at him, snuggling into his chest and pulling Kyungsoo’s arms around him.

“Go to bed,” Kyungsoo says, nuzzling Jongin’s hair.

“I’m not that sleepy,” Jongin amends.

Kyungsoo pauses, and after a moment, pulls back to look down at Jongin again. “What’s that mean?” he asks slowly, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.

“It means I wanna just lie there and doze off and you can do all the work,” Jongin says, revealing a sneaky smirk. “Wake me up for the big finale.” He shrieks and turns into a mass of flailing limbs as Kyungsoo tickles his neck, screaming for Kyungsoo to be careful lest his wild legs hit the kids. They finally settle with Jongin hanging halfway off the couch, panting for air

So that’s one cut, simply because it didn’t lead anywhere useful. It was cute though. The other one...was a little more direct...

Kyungsoo’s mouth tastes like dark roast and condensed milk from this morning’s coffee. Jongin wants to voice his complaints again. Today was supposed to be productive. Deft fingers glide down his chest, flicking buttons open as they trail toward his waistband. Unconsciously, Jongin’s own fingers tighten their grip, tugging Kyungsoo’s body closer, digging into the dimples in his lower back. Kyungsoo always kisses like he's branding Jongin with his mouth, like he’ll never be fully satisfied unless he pulls back one day and sees “PROPERTY OF DO KYUNGSOO - KEEP AWAY 50 METERS” across Jongin’s swollen lips. This suits him just fine.

“Dammit,” grunts Kyungsoo as he struggles with Jongin’s zipper, caught on a fold of the thick denim. He was already nude, bare ass and gorgeous cock straddling Jongin’s lap as he worked Jongin’s clothes off.

“We are supposed to be packing right now,” Jongin whines even as he leans his head back on the cushions to let Kyungsoo attack his neck. With the start of summer, he hasn't had to be as careful where he leaves hickies on Jongin’s body, and he's been taking full advantage of that.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get to that in a minute,” Kyungsoo promises, climbing off of him to rip the tight jeans down Jongin’s legs.

“I have to be ou—” His sentence ends in an abrupt gasp as Kyungsoo messily inhales his cock, sucking it quickly to full length before deeming that good enough and climbing back into his lap.

They stare blankly at each other for a few seconds. “Lube,” Kyungsoo whispers, surprised eyes bugging out before leaping off of him to bolt for the bedroom again.

It gives Jongin enough time to recover some sense. “We’re not going to have time to clean out the apartment. I’m gonna lose my deposit!” he yells toward the hall. But he’s also casually stroking his dick to keep it hard for Kyungsoo’s return, so he has to admit he’s really not that upset about waking up early for coffee and then coming back home for sex instead of moving heavy boxes.

“We need more lube soon,” Kyungsoo remarks. Jongin watches the little bow creep up the red thread toward him as Kyungsoo draws closer, shortening the distance between them until he’s standing in front of Jongin again, smacking the cap end of the bottle against his palm repeatedly to get the last bit of gel to come out.

“Maybe if you weren’t trying to play pornstar last week...” Jongin mumbles, tilting forward to lick daintily over the crown of Kyungsoo’s cock.

“I have no regrets,” Kyungsoo says, unabashedly popping the cap open and squirting lube out into his hand. He pushes Jongin back and sprays the last bit of cold liquid out of the bottle directly onto Jongin’s length before tossing it over his shoulder. “Those videos are gonna get me through your stupid conference trip next month,” he says, spreading the lube all over and reaching behind himself to smear the last of it over his entrance.

Jongin feels his cheeks warm at the memory. “I can’t believe I let you…” he trails off, hand steadying his cock so Kyungsoo can press it carefully against his hole and slowly sink down, eyes drifting shut as he relaxes. He’s still loose enough from last night, but Jongin gives him a minute to adjust anyway.

Kyungsoo busies himself by bringing Jongin’s left hand to his lips and touching the thread against them. Will he really be doing this everyday for the rest of their lives? It was originally an apology of sorts, and now the (daily) ritual has shifted to more of just an acknowledgment of their connection, and it’s so sappy and cheesy...and Jongin loves it to death.

“Your ass looked delicious glistening from all of th—”

“Shut!” Jongin yelps, flipping his hand around to clap it over Kyungsoo’s mouth. Last week, drunken Kyungsoo had decided to dump half a bottle of lube all over Jongin’s backside to grease him up like he was posing for some kind of X-rated photoshoot. And then he decided to fucking film it as he slapped his dick around in the mess and fucked Jongin later, remarking on camera that, huh, isn’t it interesting that their thread doesn’t show up on screen like it was a vampire or something, as his dick squelched in and out of Jongin's super slicked-up hole loudly. It was way more embarrassing than it was sexy, but Jongin hasn't been able to convince him to delete it. Yet.

“We should try that again though,” Kyungsoo says, absently rolling his hips forward. “But probably in the shower.”

“No.”

“But—”

“You’ll probably slip and die, and then I’ll have to explain how it wasn’t premeditated murder.”

Kyungsoo stills and snickers. “‘Your Honor,’” he mocks, “‘he just wanted to slip and slide into my ass, not the faucet!’”

Jongin swats at him again, trying to bring him back to their current situation instead. “Shhh,” he shushes, grabbing Kyungsoo’s hips and straightening up his expression.

“The Gay Clause,” Kyungsoo adds, giggling at his own joke. He frowns at Jongin’s waning dick inside him, clenching around the softening length and pouting.

“We're already late,” Jongin chides, guiding Kyungsoo’s hips in a slow pace. “At least focus.”

There's one thing people never talk about, and that's soulmate sex. Is there a proper etiquette for this type of thing? Unless they have sex doggy-style or some other equally detached position, their thread inevitably always drapes across one or both of them. It was really difficult at first, having gone through all the things they have, to try and have emotionally-connected, feel-for-the-moment sex when they were worried about the thread hanging between them, the bow resting just above their private parts. The whole first week after its reappearance, they've had to hold their left arms high up above them just to focus. Not exactly romantic.

There's comfort in repetition though, or at least complacency. They're pros at it now, and Jongin only barely acknowledges the red line stretched across Kyungsoo's hips, bow of destiny and fate dangling almost cutely above his cock, before moving on to the task at hand.

“Mmm,” Kyungsoo moans, a little smile on his lips, “there we go.” His eyes are still closed, concentrating on getting Jongin back to full hardness.

Jongin slouches further down on the couch for better leverage. “Kiss me,” he demands, hands sliding up to Kyungsoo's waist to pull him forward.

It works, sobering Kyungsoo back to their present situation as he licks into Jongin's mouth. The apartment is silent save for the sound of their soft gasps and skin slapping gently. Jongin lifts his knees and plants his feet to lift up and meet Kyungsoo's downward thrusts.

The pace changes, growing more frantic as Kyungsoo's eyes go glassy, staring at Jongin as moans fall out of his kiss-swollen mouth. His cock is bouncing all over the place, neglected as he stabilizes himself with his hands on either side of Jongin's head, bringing the thread up across Jongin's chest now.

“Right there, fuck,” Kyungsoo grits out, his face slackening every time the head of Jongin's dick brushes past a sensitive spot inside him. He's getting loud, and while they currently have the apartment to themselves, they don't have the apartment complex to themselves.

Jongin wraps his hand around Kyungsoo's weeping length, stroking much slower than he's fucking into him. His lips capture Kyungsoo's again, muffling the increasingly panicked moans as he feels precum drip out over his fist.

“Close,” Kyungsoo hisses against his mouth, trying to drop himself down harder.

He can feel every step as it builds. Kyungsoo's hole flutters wildly as his orgasm hits, his walls spasming and massaging Jongin's cock as if continues to move in and out of him at a much quicker speed now. Hot cum finally splashes against Jongin's stomach as Kyungsoo mewls against his mouth, gasping as each push forces more to drip out.

Jongin's orgasm is still a little ways away, having had to deal with Kyungsoo's distraction. He slows to a stop, intent on handling it himself or waiting for Kyungsoo to recover, but even on twitching legs, Kyungsoo resumes his movements. His bounces have lost a lot of inertia, but he grips Jongin's shoulders and tries his best.

“Soo…”

“Cum for me, Nini,” Kyungsoo coaxes, leaning back carefully to grope himself, cradling his softening cock and balls and lifting them so Jongin has a clear view of himself sliding in and out of Kyungsoo's hole.

#what we find #drabbles

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itsmkjones · 7 years

Text

Warning: May Come with Protection

Content: A little bit of angst with a pile of FLUFF

Request @savingpeoplepuntingthings: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a fic where reader is Dean's teen daughter and just had her first breakup with her cheating boyfriend and feels really insecure and is blaming herself so Dean comforts her. Suuuuper fluffy please. Thanks so much you're writing is amazing!!! 💘💘💘

The metal chimes hanging on the porch frame jingled as the front door slammed. The abrupt act of violence churned a fraction of the anger boiling in every deep crevice in your brain adding a fleeting relief of pleasure. You stomped up the stairs throwing an exasperated growl to the dark and empty living room. You didn’t care that the noise was embarrassingly immature. You were sick of acting mature, of shouldering the responsibility of moral obligations all the time. You reached your bedroom door, hand strangling the unsuspecting knob with brute force, retching the wooden panel behind in reckless abandon. Your bookcase shook, despite being over labored with an abundance of books. A framed mirror tapped against the wall with shock waves, a picture dislodging from its flimsy hold and fluttering the ground. Your smiling blushing face stared up at you, head tilted to the side, hair pressed on his cheek. Dejection slammed against the fury inviting an onslaught of self-deprecating thoughts to replace the blank rage. You scooped up the photo wiping away the welling tears with the back of your sleeve. Feet dragging across the floor, you threw yourself across your bed.

Pain mingling with wretched sorrow pushed at the lump in your throat. Disembodied judgments swam amidst your thoughts; teenagers cry at everything, so dramatic, so stupid... You pulled your pillow beneath your face, burrowing deeply until your nose hurt and breathing strained.

“Just this once…” You whispered as the first sob broke past your lips, “I get to be weak...”

The pillow did little to muffle your weeping and you refused to restrain as the tears rolled into unabashed bawling. A mixture of moisture slickened your face sticking to the pillow, but your chest throbbed dryly. Lost in your grief, you missed the roar of an engine thundering down the driveway and the crack of the front door opening.

“What the-” You heard your father exclaim from below. He nudged your backpack from the middle of the room with his foot. “Y/n! What did I tell you about leaving your backpack in the middle of the floor?”

You sat up desperately pushing your hair from your sticky face and trying to stifle the uneasy sobs with measured breaths. A hiccup caught a shuddering gasp combining into a strangled cry that betrayed your efforts. There was shuffle at the door.

“I better, uh,” Uncle Sam spoke softly, but sound always carried from the vent in the living room to your room, “get going.”

“Yeah, see ya man.”

There was a patter of movement from the two men coming followed by the door closing and Dean’s heavy boots hitting the steps. Your bedroom door eased open revealing your father. His brows were knit in concern as he scanned your room, his green eyes widened as they landed on your flushed face.

“Oh, hey Daddy,” You wiped a palm under your eye and into your hair in what you hoped seemed like a natural movement. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” He repeated incredulously. He moved into the room quickly tossing a glance over the space before focusing completely on you. “You look like you lose the first grade spelling bee all over again. Remember that?”

“I didn’t lose, I was robbed.” You attempted to joke offering a bright smile that disintegrated -lips spasming until they peeled open in mute grimace, nose and forehead wrinkled.

“He- hey, hey, hey…” Dean rushed to the bed taking a seat beside you. His arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you close. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You twisted into his warm embrace, clutching to the familiar scent of old car leather that stained his skin and provoked a sense of safety. His hand cupped the back of your head gently, holding you in place. If the world crumbled at that very moment, there was no doubt in your mind that your Dad would keep you safe. He was your rock and it never occurred to you to keep anything from him.

“I b-broke up with T-Taylor!” You sniffled back a river of snot.

“You bro- you broke up with Taylor? You broke up with Taylor. ” He blinked down at you, slowly registering your words and correlating them with your current state. “Why? What happened? Is everything okay? Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Do I need to go kill him? Y/n, tell me if I need to go kill him. I will go right back outside, get your Uncle Sam and find that sorry son of a bit-”

“Da-daddy! No!” You stopped him from leaping to his feet.

“Well what happened?” He searched your puffy bloodshot eyes. “Something must have happened.”

You gulped. The movement sent a harsh indicator that your throat was raw and tender. A shaky exhale left your lips, eyes lowering to the ground. Logically, intellectually you knew what happened wasn’t on you, but a deep ugly thread of guilt and worthlessness needled down into your core.

“I went over to surprise him ‘cause my club got cancelled and…” Your lungs shuddered. “He said I could come in through the side gate any time ‘cause his parents didn’t care, so I did and I got up to his room… just in time to see him and Alexia Brady-”

You broke off gesturing indefinitely into the air choking back the words.

“What?” Dean asked looking between your vague gesture and face urgently, “Kissing?”

You shook your head.

His features contorted, lips pressing together as he spat out the word. “Boning?”

You nodded, a puff of air bursting from your lips. “Yes! And, and I guess I made a noise or something because the next thing I know they’re both looking at me still… moving! And he’s shouting at me to “stay right there a minute” and to “hold on” “give me one more second”.”

“Are you freaking serious?” Dean looks towards the door, disgust pouring from every muscle. “He didn’t even stop?”

“No… I just turned away and started to leave. I made it to the door when he caught up to me and grabbed my arm.”

“Oh, tell me he put on some freakin’ pants…”

You shook your head slowly and Dean dropped his head against the flat of his palm.

“He said is was my fault because I wouldn’t have sex with him and that he was so horny that he couldn’t take it any more.” You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly as you replayed the scene in your head.

“That’s bullshit!” Dean gestured into the room angrily with one arm, his fist tightening on his thigh.

You smiled weakly, “That’s what I said. Then, he said something about how men have to do it or their system backs up. And I called bullshit again, so he rebutted with saying that I never care about what he wants and how he’s so nice to me all the time and I never do anything for him in return.”

“Didn’t you cook him an entire dinner once?” Dean asked as more of a fact of point than needed reminder.

“Yup.” You clipped back tight lipped. “So, I screamed at him. Something about how he should have broken up with me if he was unhappy- not cheated on me and how dare he try to freaking blame me for having sex with another girl when A. He’s never initiated sex with me and B. He’s standing there wearing nothing, but a nasty ass yellow freaking condom. Then, I told him that he should go to hell and fuck off, we’re done.”

You paused sucking in cool air. It washed over the painful thudding in your chest and eased the heat suffocating your lungs. Dean stroked your back in easy circles, taking time to slow and rub his thumb back and forth. His lips were pressed tight, muscles tight, but he kept quiet knowing you weren’t done. You shivered as you remembered the next part.

“Then, he pulled me back when I started walking away. His gross nasty business almost hitting my leg… He said that I couldn’t just break up with him ‘cause he didn’t do anything wrong and I was an uptight bitch and that I should give him a second chance. I told him to let me go and that if he didn’t do anything wrong why would he need a second chance?”

“Good point.” He praised with a thoughtful nod. “Stupid kid.”

“Then he grabbed my other arm and kinda shook me-”

“Woah, wait!” Dean turned on the bed, hands sliding over your shoulders barely touching. His eyes raked over your appearance once more searching for any indication. “Did he hit you?”

“No… Alexia came down the stairs and saw him. She said “What the hell?” and he let go. She got so freaked out that she bolted out the front door. He turned back on me before I thought to move and started getting mad at me for giving her the wrong idea and saying now he was going to be in trouble and it was all my fault…”

“That sorry son of a bitch!” Dean shot up from the bed taking a step forward. Every inch of his body was primed and ready with murderous intent. He wiped his mouth in the palm of his hand, forefinger and thumb trailing behind. “I swear to Go-”

“Daddy… hold on…” You pleaded, “I’m not done.”

“I’m sorry…” He exhaled spinning on his heel to face you. He dropped before your knees, resting his forearms on your legs and peering up into your face. “You’re right. Go on.”

“He looked so mad that I panicked. He was coming right at me with this terrifying look and… and before I knew it I punched him.” You tapped the small slope between your nose and upper lip. “Right here.”

Dean’s head dropped for a second, then he looked back up at you, a proud smile brightening his visage. “Right where I taught you.”

You nodded fighting off the urge to grin proudly and trying to maintain a doleful guilt that was better suited to the situation. “Yeah, his head snapped back and he passed out right in the middle of his kitchen. I made sure he was okay, then booked it back to here.”

Dean laughed heartily bouncing off his heels to plant a warm kiss on your forehead. “That’s my girl!”

“No, Daddy! Stop it!” Your words lost their edge as you met his delighted eyes with a matching smile. “That was bad!”

“No,” He disagreed evenly. He tucked a hair behind your ear before coming to his feet, “what’s bad is what’s about to happen to that friggin’ moron.”

A light knock interrupted the conversation. Dean spun moving out of the line of sight to your bedroom door. Sam lifted a bright red sweater out, peering into the room from under his brows with a guilty expression.

“Sam? I thought you went home.” Dean questioned.

“Hey, Y/n.” Sam smiled gently. “I found this on the driveway and thought it was yours…”

He tossed it to the white wicker chair near the vanity table. You sent him a smile that was equal parts grateful and embarrassed to be caught looking horrendously disgusting. Dean tapped Sam’s chest with the back of his hand.

“C’mon, I need you to come help me kill a kid.”

“Yeah, I heard…” Sam sunk his hands in his jeans pockets offering an apologetic grimace. “I kinda overheard your whole explanation.”

“Overheard and stuck around?” Dean pointed out.

“Okay, fine.” Sam admitted. “I was worried about Y/n! So, when I saw the sweater I eavesdropped. Are you happy?”

Dean shrugged. “I’ll be happier when we’ve made that Taylor kid’s life a living hell!”

Sam stepped in front of Dean as he stepped forward, hands raised placatingly. He glanced between you and Dean before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, let me handle it, okay?” The corner of his lips twitched as a knowing and exceedingly confident gleam enter his eyes. “You just… stay here with Y/n.”

They exchanged a look. It was the type of look, you had learned, that silently exchanged a wealth of information that you would never be able to guess at. Dean nodded finally, slapping Sam’s shoulder.

“You got it.”

A flicker of something darkened Sam’s smile, but when he glanced at you it was the normal gentle sympathetic smile that your Uncle was known for. “See ya, Y/n. Feel better.”

“Will he be okay?” You asked as Sam disappeared.

“Sam? Yeah, it’s Taylor who’s in for it.” Dean chuckled to himself, cocking his head to the side once.

“But Uncle Sam…” You tilted your head in confusion. “He’s so nice…”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about your Uncle Sam, kiddo.” Nostalgia colored Dean’s tone. “Now, c’mon, pie is the cure to any broken heart. Let’s get you to the nearest diner!”

“I thought it was ice cream that’s suppose to help.” You teased pushing off your bed and grabbing your sweater.

Your father frowned pointing at you with emphasis as you slipped on the cardigan. “You know who says that? Pie hating lobbyist who want to see this fine country burn to the ground. Are you a part of this insane anti-pie hate propaganda who wants everything good in this world to die?”

You grinned, “Na uh, no way. Let’s go get some pie!”

You hurried to Dean, his arm outstretched to hug you close as you reached the door. “Damn right we’re gonna get some pie.”

#SPN #supernatural #Supernatual #Supernatural Dean Winchester #supernatural dean #dean winchester #dean #SPN Dean #dean fluff #dean winchester fluff #dean fanfiction #dean fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean angst #dean winchester angst #dean daughter #father!dean #dad!dean

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coconutseaways · 7 years

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Aug 25 - 2017 -- The countdown to leave is on

Aug 15 We have a couple days before our next guests check in, a couple from Holland, on the 17th in Horta. We decided to save a couple euros and head to Madalena for 2 days. I was tired and for a little while I didn't really want to go, but the cheap side of me said go, go, go. So we got the boat ready, let off of our mooring and sailed out of Horta in the early evening. We anchored in our spot near the fishing piers in order to avoid some of the swell that was surging into the harbour. We only used one anchor this time but had a good circle of space for swinging. The wind was fairly constant so we didn't move around too much. We had a good sleep and the next morning the ferry horn blowing and the construction guys working had us up around 8. We went ashore, and did some souvenir shopping for the first time. Mike got a few things for his kids and a couple more postcards. I bought a t shirt, but am going to pick up some more stuff to send home. I was hesitant to mail anything, to save on postage. But when Mike mailed a package to South Africa and it only cost €7 - well I figured we could spare a couple bucks. Postage in Canada is so much more expensive, and I just assumed it would be similar here. Definitely not. So I am picking up more postcards and will be hitting the post office in a couple days. Our two dollarama solar lights have died on us...too much salt spray I think. The wires have rusted out and now we do not have an anchor light. Well we do, at the top of the mast of course, but the bulb up there is an old halogen and it sucks power out of the battery like no tomorrow, so we were avoiding using it. And since the rule is "an all around white light" for an anchor light, the garden solar lights are an easy replacement. But now we need to do something else, so we went to the Chinese Store - pretty much a glorified dollar store and Mike picked up a whole bunch of different LED's for us to switch out our old bulbs with. The draw on the battery is ridiculously lower with LED's compared to the old ones. It's just awesome. We put some money on our phone here, which I can't believe how much Canadian cell phone bills are ripping people off. We have spent maybe €30 for the SIM card and all of our data since we got here which is 2.5 months already. We've even had to make 2 international calls and it's still less than one month of my MTS bill. Plus because it's EU, any phone plans work through all the countries of EU with no roaming or long distance or anything like that. Canadian cell phone plans are a joke. We hit the grocery store and unfortunately they were looking seriously low on stock. Probably awaiting a shipment, there was little fruit and veggies to choose from (no cucumbers 🥒 at all!). We picked up some rolls, a chicken and some beer. Haha. Then Mike cooked us a wonderful curry and salsa chicken dish. We had it with rice and it was delicious! We enjoyed a nice evening in Madalena and the next morning headed back to Horta relatively early (around 9 AM). The Horta office boys must be tired of seeing me. We have come and gone so many times. But I'm glad that we are still spending our days sailing. So many boats arrive and then just park...for however long...and then leave on another long voyage. I think I would start to dread sailing if the only time we went out was for a long trip. You don't get to enjoy the sunny days of going out for a few hours and then coming back for the evening. Have a beer and some lunch, swim and snorkel outside of a harbour, and then come back for a good rest. So many boats haven't moved, and there really isn't that much to see in Horta. Anyways that's just my thought. Aug 17 Our next guests checked in around 3 PM and they spent the evening going to the beach and checking out some of the cafes and places in Horta. They came back to the boat for dinner, which we made kebabs!! Ohhh they turned out delicious. Mike marinated a beef shank and we put red and green peppers and onion on the skewers. Then fired up the BBQ. I love that we can grill on the back of the boat! Such a luxury! Plus it's August and the Azores are HOT and HUMID! The mugginess was especially bad today, so we were glad we didn't have to cook down below. At least when we get too hot, we can just fall over the side of the boat and cool down. Our guests were only there for that evening and the next day, so they spent the whole next day on the island. They rented scooters and checked out about half the island, went to a museum and enjoyed dinner. Mike and I had a productive day on the boat while they were gone. I sewed a small patch closed on our genoa. This is the sail that I spent hours, pulling out stitches in the winter to get the old ripped sun covers off. After I had removed the sun covers, we had the sailmaker restitch the leech line, which I had to take apart in order to get the sun cover off. It needed some new thread anyways. But there was one triangle patch that on one side the stitches were off and never got resewn. So when we were sailing with it, we noticed it was cupping air and causing drag. We had taken this sail down and put up the working jib for our trip to Graciosa on Aug 7. But now that we were in for lighter winds, we wanted to put the big genny back up. So I spent the afternoon sewing it up in the cockpit. The sail is thick so it was a little tough to get the needle through each time and by the time I was done, my hands were feeling cramped. Oh well. It's done and it should hold well. It's nice to do work on the boat yourself, instead of shelling out a ton of money to someone else. It's one thing if you can't fix it yourself, or it is clearly a better idea to get an expert to do it (like sewing the entire leech line - the sailmakers definitely got that job). But you get a nice sense of gratification when you see the things you've done on your own boat. We headed over to the wifi area, which I was dreading because I needed to try and call my bank and get them to unlock my account. It got locked because we were trying to make our final payment on our self steering windvane (yes still dealing with this) through an app that does international transfers. Well my bank stopped it before it went through and I was informed that I needed to call and do the whole rigamaroll to get it unlocked. I explained through email that I was in Portugal and calling would cost me a fortune. I asked if there was anyway to make a call over wifi (what's app, Skype, FaceTime...anything) and skype was the answer. What a pain in the ass though. First you call a 1 800 number, then the number you are calling, then they have to accept the charges and then you can talk. Well the first couple times I got no answer. Then I got through and the woman told me I had to call the fraud department directly. I explained the Portugal, phoning situation again and she said I could go through Skype the same way and they would accept the charges. Well...they didn't. And wouldn't. I tried probably about 10 times and they kept declining the call. So I tried calling the international call collect number again, and then they were declining the charges too. After an hour and a half or so, I was so fed up with it all. Mike handed me his cell phone and said just make the call and we will pay for it. So I called the fraud centre, explained quickly that this was costing a lot and the man said he would go as quickly as possible understanding my predicament. Then I got disconnected! I was losing my mind. So then I called again, told a different woman the same story. She powered through the security questions and asked about my tried transaction. I explained what is was and that we ended up using my credit card instead and she said ok, I will unlock your account. The entire call took 4 minutes which was awesome!!!! I thanked her very much for her timely help and finally had access to my account again. Good thing we weren't hurting for cash because it had been locked for almost a week. So the self steering. The unit we were supposed to have in March, waited as long as we could into June to get and still don't have. We have made some progress finally. First Mike and the owner of the business were negotiating the final price for a couple weeks or so. We ordered in advance and every month in advance equalled a 3% discount. But the shipping from Argentina to Canada was much cheaper than the shipping to the Azores so that had to be discussed and negotiated. Then there was talk about VAT and all these other figures. Finally we settled on the final bill and received it as an email attachment. Then we went to pay, but ran into issues due to the amount being over $1000 CAD, and Canadian regulations requiring a current bank statement. Well my bank account had just gotten locked so I couldn't get one. Mike's bank statements are in Gimli haha. Plus all this time we still had guests on and off and limited access to wifi. Finally, we were able to get back to wifi, not needing to worry about having guests, get Mike's sister to send us a picture of his statement, and the app we were using put the payment through and we received confirmation!!! Hallelujah! Now we wait for the actual shipment. I can't believe how long and drawn out this process has been. But we will finally have a self steering unit, that works on wind, no power and can really get into the cruising way of sailing. Back to our guests (Aug 18): They didn't come back to the boat until after 10PM. I was already drifting asleep, but Mike was awake and went and picked them up. We talked for a few minutes and then we called it a night. They were taking the 7AM ferry which meant a 6AM wake up. I heard them start packing their stuff around 5:30 and then at 6 I rowed them ashore. We said goodbyes and they said goodnight because they knew I was going back to sleep. Mike happily stayed sleeping in bed and didn't even notice they had left. I crawled back into bed and whispered to him...no getting up before 8. I think I ended up sleeping until almost 10 which was so lovely. Mike was sweet enough to make minimal noise until then. While I was sleeping, Mike ended up talking to the other Canadian boat anchored right beside us. She is from Montreal and we suspected she solo sailed here since we have only seen her onboard. Sure enough, she did. And, she only started sailing about 5 years ago. She's brave! She just had a sister here visiting and in a week or so she will be headed for Madeira and then the Canaries. We exchanged email addresses to keep in touch and I'm sure we will see her in the Canaries, since we are most likely going to go there now. We talked to customs about me getting an extension and he explained that it would be very easy and should be no problem since I'm Canadian. So now the Canaries are back on and Cape Verde will be a quick stop instead of a month long stay. When we were in Graciosa, we met a young 19 year old solo sailor from Germany and he said he absolutely loved the Canaries. And that La Gomera was absolutely beautiful and we should go there. So that's the plan!! It was another hot and muggy day. I enjoyed a swim to cool off and then spent a good chunk of the day reading and relaxing. Before going ashore, Mike and I decided to have another swim/snorkel since we were both feeling the sticky humidity. We rowed the dinghy over to another mooring, because the water beside our boat had some oil on top from the nearby fishing boats (ugh). We went in and right away I found a good sized purple octopus 🐙 hanging out in his home. I showed Mike where he was and when Mike went down, the octopus decided to make a run for it. He swam away shooting ink 3 times. I can't believe how thick the ink is. It made a thick black cloud that you couldn't see anything through. Then we saw the octopus go back to his home. Poor guy. We were just looking but he thought we were a threat. We left him alone and then headed back for the boat. It being Saturday I went and called mom at a more respectable hour - 10:30 AM for her, 3:30 PM for me. We chatted for 40 minutes and she told me she needed to get some yard work done. One of my old jobs. I miss being able to do those things around the house. I actually enjoyed doing the yard work and looking at the yard and hedge after it was looking all nice and trimmed. I headed to the bakery and the butcher, but the butcher was closed. No meat for tonight, oh well. Then sent a few voice messages to my dad, my sister and to Corey (best friend). If I had more time, I would have stayed to try to make calls to them but we were checking out and leaving for Madalena again. I love the voice messages you can send. It's a little more personal then just a text. I checked out with the office boys, paid our 12 euros and we set sail to Pico. We didn't use the engine at all, which I love doing, sailing out and drifting into Madalena. We had a great sail across, drinking a beer and reading a new Ian Rankin book I picked up from the book exchange in Horta. There are not many English books so when I saw this one, I grabbed it right away. My mom has read a lot of his stuff and really likes him, so I figured it would probably be a decent read. I read it aloud, so Mike and I can both get through the book together. Plus it makes it more of an activity for the both of us. Instead of me just sitting quietly reading. Before I knew it we were almost into harbour. We did our double anchor trick to keep us in the middle of the two piers, since there's a couple more big fishing boats that might need a bit more space to maneuver. Aug 20 It's Sunday so we are taking it easy. Today Mike and I got all of our trips around the Azores written down. When and where and who was onboard. I also added up all of our marina fees that we've paid and so far we are at about €200. Not terrible at all compared to the amount some of the other boats will be paying since they never go anywhere. We can cover that with one good full day of paid sailing so I think we are sitting pretty good. That also includes some showers and all the "free" water we have gotten since we arrived. It's been a good day of relaxing and paperwork so I'm content. Tomorrow we have a Belgian family of 4 checking in for one night. They have two young kids (4 and 6) so we will see how that goes. The youngest kids we've had so far were 10 and 11. So this is quite a bit different. Then we have two more bookings in Horta and we are done. So...3:15 right now on Aug 20, I suggested that I would go to the grocery store a couple hours ago. Mike was on the chart plotter getting distances for all the cities so we can add up all our mileage. He said he would come too. I thought for a second, it's really windy, we are double anchored, but maybe one of us should stay back. I didn't say it though. So we went ashore and I set the pace at a fast walk. I hate leaving the boat at anchor. So we got our groceries, and thank goodness the shipment had just come in because there was all kinds of fruit and veggies (including cucumber 🥒). We got back to the boat and she was just where we left her...all good. While I'm lying in bed and Mike is starting to get supper ready when I feel a knock. I said to Mike, it feels like we just tapped something, even though we didn't. Then we started swinging. Being doubled anchored means we don't swing...we got up on deck and our bow was swinging around. Mike grabbed the bow anchor rope and she came up with nothing on it. Chafed through. Shit. So I fired up the engine and put her in reverse to keep us away from any fishing boats. Mike pulled the other anchor up and we tied up to a concrete wall. There's a lot of surge here, so we don't normally try to tie up. We then went in the dinghy and Mike dived down for our lost anchor. He found it immediately and we hauled her back up. Geez! She chafed out on a rock...right after it turns to rope from chain, so at least we still have most of our line. Thank god we were in the boat when this happened. If we hadn't been....there would be damage for sure. And only to our boat...these big steel fishing boats wouldn't even feel us swinging into them. Anyways. Now we will re anchor and this time dive on it to make sure she isn't rubbing against a sharp rock. Moral of the story...always dive on your anchor to make sure she is set properly and your line is good...oh and more chain! We are definitely putting more chain on. We decided not to anchor near the fishing boats and head over near the swimming area. There's more room to anchor...but also a lot more rocks to go into if the wind swings and the anchor drags. But for tonight we would be fine. It's a nice sandy bottom and the wind isn't supposed to swing until tomorrow morning. Mike swam down to check on it and it was digging in nicely but still dragging a very small amount. While he was looking...he saw a rope down there. He pulled on it and sure enough he found a mooring! Awesome luck! So now we are tied onto a mooring with an anchor out just in case. It might be a little rocky, but we will endure and hopefully won't be moving around anymore. Aug 25 Our Belgian family was awesome. Super friendly, easy going family with two absolutely adorable kids. They loved the boat and even though we had bad weather almost the entire time, everyone still had a really good time. The little girl became my new best friend and it was nice to have kids around again. I miss working with all the kids back in Winnipeg so it was nice to tap into my younger self haha. The little boy, wanted to catch fish so bad, so his dad took him ashore and he caught 4 super tiny fish, like 4-5 cm long. They brought them back to the boat and his dad cleaned them and we cooked them up and the little boy was so happy he could eat the fish he caught. The next morning Mike and the dad went for a snorkel around the boat and Mike was able to find an octopus. He brought it up and put it on the boat for the kids to look at and they were so excited. The octopus made his way back to the water very quickly and the kids were loving it. Then we came back to Horta for the 23rd. Which was my moms birthday - Happy Birthday Mom! We had a Spanish couple spend two nights with us. We enjoyed LOTS of food together, BBQ and cooking away. The next day we sailed to a little anchorage on Faial, we snorkelled for an hour or so and I finally saw my first sting rays! Two or three of them. They are so cool, and when they find a spot they flip their fins and bury themselves under the sand. It was awesome. Then cooked up some big fat hamburgers with bacon 🥓, Canadian style haha. Just missing the cheddar cheese. We had a great lunch and another short swim before sailing back to Horta. We played cards and drank wine and brandy all evening and then this morning, they were off to catch their flight back home. Now we have one more booking, just one night and then we are done for the season here. It's been great! We've met some amazing people and had some awesome experiences. I have posted the Caribbean listing on Airbnb. I think I figured out why it kept disappearing - calendar settings - and now it should be there and easy to find. We are based out of St Maarten - and the title is S/V Athena - Caribbean Dream. We will mainly focus on sailing to Anguilla and St Bart's from St Maarten. *Airbnb has changed their rules and regulations and they now say that the boat must remain anchored/moored during the reservation. So we are still advertising accommodations on Airbnb but would prefer to take sailing charter bookings through Facebook in order to comply. We have paypal as a form of payment and although this change is a bit of a pain, we plan to keep doing what we're doing, just using 2 different platforms now. I'm sure the change is due to charter companies complaining to Airbnb or something like that. So in short, airbnb is for accommodation only - sleeping on an anchored boat and sail charters will go through Facebook/PayPal. Anyways that's it for now! Love and miss all of you. Come stay with us in the Caribbean. It's gonna be a blast I guarantee it!!! Follow us on Facebook and Instagram @ Coconut Seaways (#coconut_seaways).

#sail #sailboat #cruise #sailtheworld #sailtheocean #oceanvoyage #island #islandlife #azores

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