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cursedkeyboard · 3 months

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BIG BROTHER'S HERE ● Older brother!Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

You've been having nightmares about monsters lurking in your closet for a couple of days now. Suguru, your older brother, knows something is wrong with you.

Pairings: Platonic Geto Suguru & Baby sibling!Reader

Warning: Not proofread. Expect mistakes and edits!

If there's one thing Suguru had always been sure of, is that he knew you

Your parents had you when he was nine, most ten, so innocent and excited to be a big brother

He got to see you when you were just a bundle of hospital cloth, loud whines, and large eyes

No, really, your eyes took half of your face

You were the cutest thing he'd ever seen

From that day on, Suguru had sworn to be the best big brother to ever exist

He'd teach you everything he knew, help you with anything you wanted, and always protect you

Family and friends even called him your "second dad" whenever they saw Suguru putting you to sleep or feeding you or playing with you or...

Yeah, the kid loved being glued to you

Sure, he still had friends and his own interests like any other kid his age

But Suguru would rather be caught dead than to give up chances to spend time with you

He even begged his parents to let him take you outside in your stroller for sunlight and fresh air

It took then a little bit, but they eventually allowed him

Their neighborhood was safe, there were rarely any kidnapping cases around, and they only let him once you were one and he was eleven

As you grew up, Suguru definitely honored his promise by being the closest person to you

Always near, always helping, always nurturing

He knew your favorite type of baby food, the exact warmth you liked it at, the blankets you favored and the toys you never allowed anyone to take

Suguru would take naps with you on his chest, sing you to sleep when you woke up screaming, and play with you until you exhausted yourself

He was always there for you, especially when your parents were busy

So much so, in fact, that your first words weren't mama or papa

It was gu–gu

Yeah, some could say you were just being a baby and babbling, but he knew better

Because you had looked up at him, grabbed his hand with your tiny ones, and said it with a big smile

Don't tell anyone, but he definitely cried while hugging you

You'd eventually be able to say Sugu, then Suguru when you learned to roll your tongue, but Suguru would always hold that memory dear to his heart

And so, years passed quickly

Perhaps too quickly for your big brother, who would always feel his heart ache a little when his baby sibling didn't need help to do basic things anymore

But he was happy, overjoyed, that you grew into a happy and healthy child, always so energetic and ready for any play or challenge

Of course, you two had your disagreements at times, because kids will be kids and Suguru reached puberty when you were four and learning how to be bratty and contrary

However, compared to so many other siblings in the world, Suguru was proud to say you were definitely the closest of siblings

There wasn't a single thing he didn't know about you

That's why, now that you were seven and learning taking a more introverted personality like his own, your big brother immediately knew something was wrong with you once you started getting sleepier throughout the day

Blinking slowly, barely eating, nodding off whenever the two of you watched cartoons

And, now seventeen and keenly aware of so much evil in this world, Suguru immediately sought to fix the problem

The moment Suguru picked you up from school he knew he was going to talk to you about what was happening. It didn't seem to be the kids or teachers in your school, since the moment you walked out and saw him you were smiling and happy like aways, that rush of energy still in you from playing with your friends.

"Suguru!" You called out for him, quickly saying your goodbyes to the kids around you and running towards your tall big brother who stood out in the middle of all the waiting moms. "You're early!"

Suguru picked you up the moment you got close enough, making you squeal and giggle as he settled him on his broad back, smiling softly at how your small hands settled on his shoulders.

"We got let out earlier," He explained and waved a quick polite greeting at your teacher before leaving, beginning the trek back home. "Satoru wanted to go to the arcade but I missed my baby today."

You giggled again, a sound that never failed to make Suguru relax and forget all his troubles, if only for a moment, and rested your head in the crook of his neck. "'Toru is a big baby, not me!"

"Hmm, maybe you're both babies?"

"No, not me, 'Toru," You shook your head and Suguru avoided people walking around easily, being so tall and nimble had its advantages. "I'm getting bigger and bigger, and Toru acts like a child when I do not."

Well, he couldn't argue with that.

Instead, Suguru started asking you about your day like he always did and, like he expected, you couldn't even make it through half of your rant about the teacher taking away the yellow sharpies from everyone before falling asleep on his back, completely out.

Which, that in itself wouldn't be bad, but you used to spend hours after school talking his ears off, drawing, and insisting to watch cartoons. He sighed and moved you to his front, hugging you to his chest protectively, so worried he could feel a headache stab the back of his head.

Suguru was a special grade sorcerer, top of the class, and the most reliable when it came to problem solving skills, but most of all Suguru was the best big brother there is and he was going to fix whatever was wrong with you.

Like he always did.

That day, after you napped for a couple of hours, Suguru sat you down on the couch once he made sure you ate and showered

While he detangled your hair from the mess it had became in School, he started slow

Asking you if there was anything going on these days

If you were having any troubles in school

Maybe a bully or a new interest that was keeping you up?

It took a bit of digging, because Unfortunately, you two were very much alike

Which meant you also hid your anxieties and problems, even if Suguru always ended up finding out anyway

With a couple of deep breaths, you explained why you hadn't been able to sleep these days

Every night for the past week, you were getting nightmares

Nightmares about monsters, hideous creatures that would suck people's happiness then eat them bit by bit

And every time you woke up gasping and afraid, the door to your closet was open the slighest bit

Hesitantly, like you were afraid of being called a liar or made fun of, you told you brother you swore you saw something inside

Watching you. Waiting for something. Hungry.

And Suguru?

Not once did Suguru stop gently brushing your hair, keeping his hands steady and movements soft, which had a calming effect on you

But god, he could feel his body shaking under his skin

Fury threatening to bubble and spill over

Because those vivid nightmares, your exhaustion, the way you always looked so drained each morning...

He knew exactly what that meant and he couldn't possibly be angrier

Instead of scaring you with the face he was doing, Suguru started drying your hair, and once you finished talking, he hugged you close, comforting you

"It's alright, little one, I got you, big brother's got you."

That night, Suguru easily convinced you to have a sleepover in his room, full of your favorite stuffed animals and blankets

And when you were all tuckered out after talking tons and watching your favorite movie, snoring softly under Suguru's heavy covers, the teen left his room quietly

Slowly, he made his way towards yours

Shadows followed his every step, licking at his feet and dancing with each breath he took

The air shifted as he made his way inside, closing your door behind you, like it knew he was there

He pulled the door to your closet open, his movements ghostly as rage made his purple eyes almost glow in the night

The curse inside, a weak, puny thing he hadn't been able to sense, trembled under the taste of his erratic cursed energy

So pathetic and small

Fucking inconsequential

That thing dared to mess with his baby sibling

Make his baby sibling lose sleep as it sucked happiness and energy

So he did it slowly

Ripped it in pieces, bit by bit, until it was but a splatter on the floor

That night, he went back to his room after washing his hands and face, heart beating fast from the hatred coursing through his veins

Suguru lifted the blankets and tucked himself by your side, pulling you gently until he was curled around you

Then, only then, as you slept fitfully in his arms, safe and peaceful, he was able to calm down and relax

He would do better, grow stronger, kill every curse that dared to step food in a 100 mile radious of you

But Suguru knew there needed to be change

Curses had to disappear completely, one way or another

And Suguru would find a way, if not for the safety of his friends, then for yours

He would never let anything hurt you

No matter the cost

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fuckingwhateverdude · 1 year

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things to do on a saturday

#now THIS one is actually more a feeling than a poem #it feels a certain way to me i like it #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #lists #list poem #second person narration #spilled ink #extended metaphor

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brightdrawings · 1 year

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(art by @stephreynaart)

"Look over here." you said.

You held a Polaroid camera in your hands, the twins had bought it for you. It was their way of apologizing for not bringing you on their last world wide trip. It was a dated method of taking pictures, but you treasured it nonetheless. From Mabel's suggestion, you had started your own scrapbook to record these newly made memories with the men you loved.

Right now the three of you were taking a moment to enjoy the cliff side view of the ocean. This environment wasn't exactly new, in fact you had seen no less than 10 on this trip so far. The twins even more so. Despite that, all three of you couldn't help being caught in the majesty of the deep blue sea. the vastness of the open sky, and the coolness of the wind. Everything came together to create a sight that was familiar and still felt new every time.

The twins had sat down before you arrived and were quietly enjoying a break from the action and adventures of their current life at sea. This was a brief moment of respite, and you couldn't stop yourself from wanting to capture the moment.

Responding to your cry, both twins turned their heads to look at you. Well used to your itchy camera finger, they each gave you a smile as you captured the moment. Another to add to your collection. Another memory to keep safe and look back on when you returned home.

#Reader x Stan #Reader X Ford #Gravity falls #Gravity falls Fanfic #Stan #Grunkle Stan #Stan pines #Stanley Pines #Grunkle Ford #Stanford Pines #sea Grunks #post-finale #could be seen as platonic as well #gender nuetral reader #second person narration

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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Gentleman

Navigation

Sam Winchester x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s03e02 “bloodlust”

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: you and Sam don't exactly see eye to eye with Dean's new friend, so you return to the motel by yourselves. Things... escalate.

Content: smutty smut smut! Shameless, loving, gentle porn with a bit of a plot. Tooth rotting sappiness and fluff. Bit of hurt/comfort, bit of angst. Reader is just so in love with Sam (I am too dw). Sam is down horrendously bad for the reader (I'm horrendously down bad for him. I cannot emphasise this enough). Use of (Y/N), but not too much. Hickeys, making out, extremely light switchiness (barely noticeable, just healthily flexible dynamics), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, safe sex, vaginal sex. Hugs all round (someone needed to give these boys one), Dean and the reader get along, Dean has like one soft moment, there's quite a bit of reminiscing and stuff. Gordon's vibes are Off. As above, set during season 2 episode 3.

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I'm (kinda) back, and my summaries have not gotten any better! Started watching Supernatural and got brainrot. Got lots of stuff planned but probably won't actually write it (sorry). The things I would let these two men do to me is insane like actually insane besties I am not ok. Anyways enjoy the by-product of my suffering, consider this a peace offering as I worm my way into the Supernatural fandom.

Also I have been working sporadically on some requests so if you made one chances are I've seen it and I have started it, but also I have Things in my Life right now that are very Stressful so yeah that's fun but yknow it is what it is, thanks everyone for being so supportive and patient with me xx

To say you were uncomfortable would have been an understatement. It wasn’t just how easily Gordon was talking about what had happened, or the too-bright light in his eyes as he recounted it, or Dean’s ease with the whole thing. It had been a freaking execution! And sure, the guy was a vampire, but the way the saw had just chewed right through his neck, the kicking of his legs as he’d died, the blood spraying over Dean’s face… yeah. As Sam had put it, decapitations weren’t really your idea of a good time. And it certainly wasn’t something you felt like laughing about over drinks.

You could see Sam’s leg bouncing slightly, his face blank as he stared at the beer he was nursing. Your own stomach twisted with unease. Chances were, if he was on edge, so were you. The emotional interplay wasn’t new, and in fact, Dean gave you endless shit about it. “I don’t know what’s up with you,” he’d say. “I just gotta thank God I don’t develop some freaky emotional feedback loop with every girl I bang.”

Now, Sam glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. You screwed up your nose. Not enough to be too noticeable, but enough to let him know you thought something was a bit off too. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

“What’s up with you two?” Dean asked, frowning at your practically untouched beer.

You shrugged. Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of his drink before turning to his new friend. “I swear,” he said, “they read each others' minds. He’s grumpy, she’s grumpy. She’s happy, he’s happy. I reckon if she stubbed her toe, he’d be limping.”

Gordon barked a laugh, raising his eyebrows. “That so?”

“Dean, come off it,” you sighed.

He shook his head, smiling. “Lighten up, both of you.”

You opened your mouth to say something about how you didn’t think lightening up was really appropriate given the circumstances, but the scraping of Sam’s chair cut you off.

“I’m not gonna bring you guys down,” he said. “I’m just gonna go back to the motel.”

“Yeah,” you agreed as he glanced at you, “I’m a bit tired.”

Dean frowned. “You sure?”

You nodded, standing.

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Seeya.”

“Seeya,” you smiled tightly, then passed him your unfinished beer. “You want this?”

“You’re not taking it?”

You shook your head. “Not in a beer sort of mood.”

He gave you a searching look, then shrugged again and took the drink. “Sure.”

“Thanks, Gordon.” You nodded to the other hunter. As much as you felt off about him, you didn’t need to be rude.

He inclined his head back to you. “My pleasure.”

Sam’s hand settled on your back as you joined him by the door, and you cast a final glance back at the two men remaining at the table.

“Sammy!” Dean called, the car keys jingling in his hand as he tossed them to his brother. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, alright?”

Sam caught them with ease, Gordon’s enquiry of “something I said?” chasing you out the door. Hell yeah, it was something he said. It was everything he said.

“Jesus,” you grumbled, shivering in the cold air.

Sam snorted, absently shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Equally thoughtlessly, you put it on. It had become something of a routine. Sam didn’t exactly get too cold very often, but you did. He was many things, and “gentleman” was pretty high on the list by you reckoning.

“I don’t know about all of this,” he said, feet crunching on the gravel as he headed towards the car. “Something’s…”

“Off, yeah.” You swung into the passenger seat, arms crossed firmly over your chest.

“I can’t quite–” The engine cut him off for a moment, but he didn’t finish the sentence anyway. It didn’t matter.

“I know, it’s a brain itch.”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Seatbelt,” he added as the car rolled out of the parking lot, another habit between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d have been dead years ago if you hadn’t had someone reminding you to use the damn things, a fact that both Winchester brothers were not afraid to attempt to drill into you. They hadn’t had much success.

You hummed as you clicked the strap across your body, shrinking further down into the seat. You were feeling better now that you weren’t sitting across from Gordon, now that it was just you and Sam. You loved Dean, of course you did, but Sam was just so easy to be around. The two of you clicked, simple as that, and you adored it.

“I’m gonna call Ellen,” Sam said decisively, frowning at the road. “Maybe she knows him.”

You nodded. “Mhm, good idea.”

You were still humming – the melody from something that had been playing on the drive that day, you thought – as you entered the motel room, gulping down a glass of water before jumping onto the kitchen counter. Your heels made a dull thud, thud, thud, on the cupboards as you swung them, the zipper of Sam’s jacket swishing over the cheap vinyl. You watched him take a seat on the bed and dial Ellen.

You listened idly to his side of the conversation, eventually sliding off the counter top and coming to sit behind him on the bed. You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing. It had been an oddly long day.

“But I thought you said he was a good hunter,” he was frowning.

You thought you heard her say “Hannibal Lecter”, and frowned too. Shit, was Gordon some kind of serial killer? You hoped not.

Sam’s back was warm under your cheek, but his shoulders were tense. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy. You hadn’t known John Winchester well, but the time you’d spent with him had been… Well, it hadn’t been nice exactly, but you could see the love he had for his sons. You couldn’t imagine going through what Sam had, almost losing his brother and then really losing his father in the space of a week. You thought he was handling everything reasonably well, all things considered.

There’d been one moment, just a few days ago, when you’d thought he might crack. Dean had been out like a light in the back of the car, and you’d reached around to snap a photo of him squished up against the window. You’d laughed at it – he looked ridiculous. When you’d glanced up to show Sam, he was staring straight at the road, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Alright?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded.

You’d frowned. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

This time, a head shake.

He wasn’t alright, you could see that clear as day. “Sam, pull over,” you said softly.

He’d swung the car off the road so abruptly you’d jerked against your seatbelt, simply sitting with his foot on the brake and both hands on the steering wheel.

You’d reached over and put the car in park, switching off the ignition. “Come on,” you’d said, “out.”

He’d leant against the side of the car, arms crossed, staring out into the field you were driving past.

“Interesting grass?” you’d asked, bumping your shoulder against his.

He hadn’t smiled exactly, but his mouth had definitely twitched up a bit at the corner. You’d consider that a win.

“Seriously,” you’d prodded. “What’s up?”

“I don’t…” He’d trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “I can’t…”

You’d frowned as he’d shaken his head, looking anywhere but you. You’d told yourself something like this was gonna happen eventually, prepped the whole “I’m here no matter what” speech a thousand times, but now you didn’t really know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to put your hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles like your kindergarten teacher used to do when you were upset.

Sam’s voice was choked when he finally spoke. “I can’t lose you.”

Four words, but you were convinced your heart had shattered right there.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, stepping to face him. You took his hands in yours, uncrossing his arms.

“How can you–?”

You cut him off, shaking your head as you raised his hands to your face and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated. “Nowhere you can’t follow.”

He’d just nodded, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed deeply, the strong smell of the most recent laundromat’s detergent all around you, your fingers bunched in the back of Sam’s shirt.

“I’ve got your back,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ve got yours, too.”

“Good.” You’d pulled away, smiling as you stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, but that was all either of you needed.

Then Dean had woken up and shouted at you to save your “romantic moments” for when you weren’t supposed to be driving. You’d grumbled that he was just jealous, which he’d vehemently denied amongst a lot of vomit noises. But later, as you’d waited for Sam to get back with lunch, he’d put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side.

“I’m glad he’s got you,” he’d said. “Real glad.”

“You’ve got me too,” you’d smiled. “Always.”

He’d just stared at you for a moment, his arm still around you, before he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thanks,” he’d muttered. “‘ppreciate it.”

Now, with the same softness, you let your hand slide up Sam’s back and across his shoulders, then down his side. You brushed over his chest, down to his stomach, then back up to settle over his heart. You always forgot how big he was until you tried to get your arms around him, then it was like hugging a mountain. You loved it.

He cleared his throat.

You smiled, placing a soft kiss where his hair brushed the back of his neck, using your free hand to sweep it away.

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said to Ellen. He sighed as your lips trailed higher, up under his ear.

“Mhm, we will.” His fingers curled in the bed covers as you sucked ever so gently at the spot you’d found, the one you knew drove him insane.

“Yep, alright. Thanks, Ellen.” A forceful swallow as you rubbed slow patterns across his front, nothing but the thin material of his shirt separating your hand from his skin.

“Ok. Bye.”

You smiled as the phone beeped, then was thrown to the bed. You eased your hand under his shirt, shivering as your fingers met the warm expanse of his torso. You could touch him like this forever, if you were given the chance.

“What’re you doing?” he breathed, tilting his head back, baring his throat.

“Kissing you,” you whispered as you moved down the muscle of his neck, “touching you,” as your hand ran gently over his pectoral, thumb grazing his nipple.

“Mm, do I get to kiss you too?”

You smiled. “If you ask nicely, yeah.”

“Please?”

“Hm?”

He sighed. “(Y/N), come on.”

“Nope,” you laughed softly. “Ask nicely.”

You felt his chest heave under your hand, and you pressed your mouth to his neck again.

“Pretty please,” he murmured.

You pretended to be considering this for a moment, dragging it out. Truth be told, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as he wanted to, but God it was fun teasing a bit. Especially like this, when it was you draped over his back, hinting at giving him hickeys, touching wherever you pleased.

“Go ahead,” you replied.

Before you could even draw another breath he’d turned and brought his hand up to cup your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let him lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding languidly alongside your own, the faint taste of beer still clinging to him. It was all so soft and gentle and full of care, everything you adored about him.

He shifted back on the bed, turning to face you. Your hands were still under his shirt, arm still stretched across his body as he pushed against you.

“I love this on you,” he murmured as his hands found the opening of his jacket, pushing it back over your shoulders.

You smiled. “You want me to take it off?”

“And this.” He plucked at the t-shirt you wore underneath, already coaxing it upwards.

“Alright,” you laughed, batting his hands away. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Whoever said that clearly never met you.”

You looked away, hoping to hide the pink you could feel flooding your cheeks. However many times you did this, Sam never failed to get you flustered. You could sense his eyes on you as you stripped yourself of your shirt and his jacket, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

He started to shuffle back further onto the bed, one hand settling on your waist as he leant down to kiss along your jaw. You sighed, your mind halfway made up to just let him keep going like that. But no.

“Uh-uh,” you said, pushing him gently off you.

“What do you–? Oh.”

You smiled as you slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. You ran your hand up his thigh, deftly undoing his belt and fly. Heck, you’d had practice. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “God, yes.”

You rolled your eyes, gesturing to his pants. “Well you gotta help me out a bit, yeah?”

“Sorry,” he grinned, shedding them in one smooth motion.

“And those.” You pointed at his underwear.

“Yes, your highness.”

“Damn right,” you muttered as you kissed your way up his thigh, nipping gently at the skin of his hip. He smelled of the soap from last night’s motel room, faint but still there, a little sweat from the night’s earlier action. You could taste it where your tongue touched him, and man was it good.

His voice was breathy when he asked, “You gonna keep teasing me forever?”

“Maybe.” You watched as goosebumps appeared where your breath tickled him, smiling to yourself.

“Is that what’s got you smiling like that?”

You sat back on your heels, arms resting on his knees as you looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, the shitty neon lighting of the room glancing off his hair in a kind of halo. You thought your next words through very carefully.

“No,” you said slowly. “I’m thinking about how your cock’s gonna feel in my mouth. How you’re gonna say my name when I’ve got you so deep down my throat I’m almost gagging. I bet you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Sam’s mouth fell open, his hands twitching where they rested on the duvet.

“What do you think?”

He swallowed. “I think I’m not even gonna take you up on that bet, I think you’re right.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok then.” You smiled, leaning forward and taking his dick in your hands. It was hard and warm to the touch, already leaking precum. You licked down, then up again, swirling your tongue around the head.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, (Y/N).”

“You want me to suck it?”

“Yes. Please.”

You shrugged. “Since you asked so nicely.” You sank your mouth down onto him, your hands working what wouldn’t fit. Sam’s thighs tensed, and you moved. You could have stayed like that forever, you thought, just holding him in your mouth. You had half a mind to ask about that, actually.

Sam moaned, his fingers twisting in the covers as you pulled your head back, then forward again, sucking and licking along his length. You’d wanted to take your time at first, tease him and see how long it took for him to be fisting your hair and moving your head for you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh my God,” he whispered as you increased your speed, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. His dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, something you might have been embarrassed about in the past. Now it turned you on.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Sam’s hips despite his best efforts. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “Shit, (Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos – before you met him, that was – as his hand finally flew to your hair, his fingers carding through it. He was trying so hard to be gentle, and you loved him for it.

“You look so hot like that,” he whispered. “How’re you so fucking hot?”

You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You vividly remembered a conversation you’d had with Sam and Dean in the car once, where Dean had proclaimed that “there are blowjobs, and then there are blowjobs.” Sam had turned and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Dean had yelled at you both and told you to get a room. What you were doing right now was definitely a blowjob, and you were loving every second of it.

“I’m gonna cum,” Sam was panting, “(Y/N) oh my God I’m gonna cum.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, his head thrown back and his cock twitching in your mouth. You went all in, sucking and licking and jerking with everything you had in you.

Yes, you thought as you swallowed everything he gave you, basking in his muttered curses and groans like they were water and you were a wilted houseplant. This was heaven, right here. Every time you watched him come undone, you were completely convinced it couldn’t get any better than this. And without fail, the next time it did.

He was still panting as you licked him clean, as gently as you could. His hand had settled on your shoulder, large fingers caressing your skin so tenderly it made you want to cry.

“You ok?” you asked, sitting back. You patted his knee, watching his face carefully. He was flushed, a light sheen of sweat sticking some of his hair to his forehead. You hadn’t really paid much attention at the time, but now you wished you’d made him take off his shirt too. You loved watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath.

“Ok?” he echoed, opening his eyes. He grinned. “I’m more than ok.”

You smiled back, licking your lips. “Good.”

“Come up here,” he said, patting his leg. “And take off your pants.”

“Magic word?”

“Please.” Then, on second thoughts, “pretty please.”

You laughed, but got up and shed your jeans anyway. You slid onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you softly, holding you close against him. The material of his shirt tickled your skin, very noticeably baring you from the silken warmth of his skin.

“Off,” you said against his lips, plucking at the garment.

“Off,” he repeated, tracing the line of your underwear.

Almost perfectly in sync, the two of you shed the offending clothing.

“I love this,” he whispered as he reached behind you, deftly unfastening your bra and pulling it away from you. He set it aside carefully, almost reverently, then bent his head and fastened his mouth to your breast. “Hey,” he said after a moment, frowning.

You frowned too. “What’s wrong?”

His finger traced a delicate circle over your other breast, tapping at a spot just above your nipple. “What’s this?”

You squinted at the area, then laughed. The faded yellowish bruise wasn’t all that visible, but of course Sam would find it.

“What is it?”

“It’s a hickey. From you. From last time.”

His face cleared. “Shit, didn’t realise it’d last that long. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you smiled. “Makes me think of you whenever I see it.”

“Maybe I should give you more, then.”

Your grin widened. “Please.”

“Mm?”

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Ok.” He bent once more, sucking a matching spot into your unmarked breast. Then he added another one beside it, and a third right in the middle of your sternum.

“No more low cut tops, I guess,” you sighed, stifling a moan as he moved downwards with another.

“Shame,” he murmured into your skin, “I love those low cut tops.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’d be insane not to.”

You laughed, then gasped as he ran his hand up your thigh.

“Relax,” he said.

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed.”

“Your heartbeat says you’re lying.”

“That’s for you,” you told him, meeting his eyes. “That’s what you do to me.”

“And this?” His finger darted between your legs, sliding easily with how wet you were.

“Yeah,” you gasped, “all for you.”

He cursed softly, then lowered you gently onto the bed. He propped himself half over you, half beside you, his hand stroking down over your stomach, your hips, around your pelvis.

“Please,” you moaned. “Sam, please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Please,” you added as an afterthought.

“Nice manners,” he noted, rubbing achingly slow circles over your clit.

You gripped his arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he bent and resumed his assault on your breasts.

“You take such good care of me,” he continued, his voice muffled slightly by your soft flesh. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Cause I love you,” you whispered.

“Mhm, you gonna let me take care of you too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.”

You whined at the loss of his fingers on your clit, then bit your lip to quiet what would have been a loud moan as he slipped the finger inside you. The heel of his hand ground against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his finger putting just the right pressure in just the right places. You’d be a mess in no time, and you both knew it.

“Fuck, Sam,” you panted, your back arching as you chased the feeling.

“Hm?” His chest was warm where it pressed against your side, the muscles of his arm rippling subtly under the skin where your fingers dug into him. His free hand stroked your shoulder, his mouth busy littering your chest with hickeys. You could feel him growing hard again against your thigh.

“Fuck me?” you half asked, half offered.

He grunted softly at your words, nodding. “Got a condom?”

“Mhm, yeah, sure. One sec.” You reached over to your jeans, rummaging in the pockets until you struck gold. Or foil, you supposed. You watched as Sam tore it open and slid it on, as easily as if he was tying shoelaces. He’d gotten stupidly fast at putting the things on, courtesy of the whole “Dean could get back any minute so let’s just be as fast as we can” element you so often found yourselves dealing with. You weren’t complaining.

“Ready?” he asked, positioning himself between your legs. You rocked your hips gently, feeling his hardness pressed against your dripping centre.

He nodded, then softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers twisting in the duvet.

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Move,” you urged him. He did, slow and gentle. The light was doing that thing with his hair again, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Brush it off his forehead, kiss him there, smooth the faint worry line that seemed to be present more and more frequently. You’d do anything to make it disappear forever.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning forward to deliver more kisses to your chest. You were gonna have a whole forest of hickeys when you were done.

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work.

“Touch yourself,” he encouraged you, “I want you to cum while I’m fucking you.”

“Shit, ok,” you replied, reaching down and running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. You loved how easily you could give and take control with him, how quickly and smoothly you could switch roles when you wanted to. It wasn’t just in bed, either, and you adored it. You adored him.

Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was perfect. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Sam’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he.

“(Y/N), fuck,” he moaned, his abdominal muscles twitching and tensing.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax.

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning.

He rolled off you, peeling off the condom and tying it neatly before tossing it to the floor to be disposed of later. You turned to face him, your head resting on his bicep, his other arm draped over your side. His hand stroked your back, soft and loving.

You smiled as you reached up, sweeping the hair from his face. “You good?” you murmured, cupping his cheek gently.

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You reciprocated, then stretched up and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“How about you?” he asked.

“I’m great.” Then you sighed, your thumb stroking tiny arcs across the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

“Look at you,” he answered. “You’re so beautiful.”

You closed the few inches of space between you, pressing your lips to his. “I really do love you,” you said as you pulled away. “So much.”

He smiled. “I know, I love you too. More than anything.”

You went to kiss him again, but his phone buzzed and you froze. He groped for it blindly, frowning. You’d both learnt the hard way that if his phone went off and Dean wasn’t with you, it was best to check it.

Sam snorted, flipping it around for you to see.

The text, from Dean, was two sentences. “Back in 1/2 hour. Get decent.”

“Screw you, Dean.”

Sam laughed, tossing the phone to the side. “I guess we’ve got half an hour.”

“I’m taking a shower then,” you said. “I saw a vending machine, like, right outside, and I really want a soda right now.”

“I’ll get you a soda if you let me take the shower with you?”

“Deal.” You held out your hand as if to shake on it, but he kissed it instead. Yeah, “gentleman” was definitely high up on that list.

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skelletonscloset · 5 months

Note

Ok- I have a request for a small RE fic. It’s been burning a hole in my brain: something where Leon comes back from a mission or something with some serious injuries and the reader (who maybe has some kind of medical background or smth??) has to like- convince him to let them take care of him.

Idk I’m honestly not super picky I just think it would such an interesting idea for like- angst but also comfort yk? Literally go wild

OMGGGG thank you soooo much for this Resident Evil request!! i lovedddd writing it!! i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mild language and depiction of wounds.

Angst/comfort

1.3k words

~ ☠️

𝔹𝕀𝕋𝔼 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝔼𝕋

You were called into work on your day off. of course you were. USSTRATCOM wasn’t good at respecting time off or vacation, always pulling people into a big mess that takes weeks to clear up.

It was late, roughly one in the morning when you got the call from Hunnigan, her worried voice over the phone begging you—almost commanding you to come in. Her words were so panicked, so fast you barely had time to make out the words “Leon” and “injured” but that was enough for you to realize why you needed to come in.

The drive to HQ felt longer than usual, maybe it was the fact your sleep was interrupted, or maybe it was the context, the fear. The building was almost completely empty when you got there, save for a few people finishing up reports and agents being sent out on other missions.

“There you are! come on, he’s in the infirmary,” Hunnigan instructed.

You were one of the few medics that had the skill level to treat whatever injuries he had and one of the only ones who was easily available and not out on their own missions. Hunnigan nodded towards the closed door, saying a few final words about what to expect and then walking away.

With a deep sigh you readied yourself. It was never easy dealing with injuries, and the way Hunnigan made it sound these had to be some pretty serious ones.

The light in the room was bright and harsh with multiple cabinets and drawers filled with medical equipment. Leon was on the bed, a grimace on his face and his eyes squeezed shut.

His honey blonde hair was messy and beads of sweat still hadn’t dried on his face. As you approached him you analyzed the injuries you could see. Scratches and cuts littered his face, a gash in his right arm and thick red blood seeped through his shirt.

“Leon what the hell happened!?” You urged as you got closer to him.

“The hell do you think?” His voice was dry and strained, one of his blue eyes opening to peer at your worry stricken face. “It’s alright.”

Your jaw tightened as you reached over for some cleaning supplies, “I think you pushed yourself too hard and did something stupid. and now you’re suffering the consequences. So no, It’s not alright.”

“Yeah well what am I supposed to do? Civilians needed help. I couldn't just leave them there.”

You dabbed a cloth with ointment around the slash on his arm, he hissed in pain. Sometimes you hated how righteous he was, how unwilling to give up he was. But it was something you’d always admired of him anyway. “Listen to me, I know you like to help people, Leon but you need to be more careful. The spain incident and Los Illuminados should’ve been a wake up call that you aren’t invincible.” You hoped that despite your lecturing him, he could understand it was out of concern

He only scoffed, “I know that.” And then he went back to being silent.

You gave him a look before taking out a roll of bandages. “You’re lucky this wasn’t too deep. what caused this?”

“A knife,” he said, rolling his head over to study your movements, eyes fixated on the way your hands carefully wrapped up his bicep in medical gauze.

You shook your head and gently grabbed the hem of his shirt. “I need you to try and sit up, I need this off so I can check the wound.”

He muttered a few incoherent grumbles of disapproval but ultimately subjected to your care. He heaved a deep groan as he sat up with your help. You slowly peeled off the shirt from around his frame and grimaced at the sight of a deep wound, either a stab or bullet entry on the side of his torso. Based on the diameters it looked as though a knife was pushed in and twisted before ripping out.

“Goddammit leon..” you muttered, immediately grabbing another cloth to clean around the wound. “You'll need stitches and I don't have access to anesthesia or lidocaine. so it looks like you’ll be biting down on a belt or something.” It was your attempt at a joke to help ease the tension.

He rolled his eyes, lips pulled into a thin line. He looked so exhausted, dark bags under his eyes. “do what you need to do.”

You walked towards one of the cabinets and pulled out some gloves, thread, and needles. In the corner of the room there was a fridge and freezer used to cool down medicine or preserve it. You grabbed a piece of ice and walked back over to him. “Here bite this.” you handed him a large medical bite wafer. “I'll make this quick.”

You eased the pain in the wound by rubbing the ice carefully around the cleaned edges before slipping the needle into his skin. Your eyes shot up to monitor his reaction in case it became too much. His jaw was set and his eyes shut.

You continued to stitch him shut, a few groans of pain escaped past the wafer as you finished up. After cutting the string and bandaging him up you sighed “all done.” He spit out the wafer into the trash and rubbed his jaw.

He opened his eyes and gave you a weary look. more sweat accumulated on his face and his breathing was more rugged and uneven. His face was still littered in bruises and cuts.

You grabbed a third cloth and dampened it, “Last thing, let me just clean you up then i’ll get you painkillers and give you instructions for what i need you to do following this.” You gently cupped his cheek, turning his face towards you. Tired blue eyes gazed up at you, thick brows furrowed in discomfort.

You dabbed the cloth against some of the cuts and wiped away some of the dirt. Your voice was shaky no matter how much you tried to relax it. “What happens when you get hurt you don’t make it home Leon… what happens when you don’t even realize you got hurt til it kills you. What if-“

“It's not going to happen,” He grabbed your wrist and raised a brow. His voice wasn’t angry or tired. It was gentle and smooth. “I know what I'm doing out there, I promise.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, “Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Of course I don't, but it doesn’t change anything.” You bit, pulling your hand from his hold and continuing to clean his face.

Once again his voice was soft and quiet, “Trust me, okay? Or maybe I just need to start having you assigned to my missions too.” Towards the end his tone was more snarky.

“Maybe. If it stops you from being so damn stubborn.” you scoffed out a laugh and set the cloth down.

You gave him a once over as you cleaned up your supplies and disposed of what wasn’t necessary. “Okay you need to be on bed rest for three weeks. And no you cannot get out of this sooner.”

Leon only rolled his eyes again but nodded, knowing all too well that arguing with you clearly wasn’t worth it. “alright alright..”

You patted down your clothes and brushed off your hands. “I'll send Hunnigan in with your medicine and I'll visit you tomorrow.” And with that you turned around.

You halted in surprise when you felt his grip around you wrist, “wait.”

You looked over your shoulder, “Yes, Leon?”

“Thank you. Seriously. Probably would’ve been worse off if it weren’t for the many times you’ve had to take care of me… so.. thanks for worrying. Even if it’s stupid.”

You almost argued back on that last point but held your tongue. “Of course leon. Any time.”

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fuckingmilkovich · 9 months

Text

BACKSTABBER by KESHA

carl gallagher x f! reader | angst | bad ending in

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

❛why you did this to me?! you fucking ruined my life! are you doing this because you hate me? you never gave a shit about me i shouldn’t trust you in the first place❜

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

CARL wasn’t the greatest boyfriend you could ask for, but he just stole your heart with his charisma and that stupid smirk on his face. he was your first boyfriend in your entire life, so obviously you were so excited about that experience. you wanted to impress him, because you knew what a player carl was and that you needed to interest him with your person, even if you were with him for a few months.

you weren’t the most fun person in the world; you just lived like a normal teenager, not like gallagher’s. so that was strange that he asked you out one day. he was handsome, and you liked his rebellious side sometimes. you were so happy when carl asked you to be his girlfriend because you never thought that someone could find you attractive.

you wanted to show him that you weren’t that boring and innocent, so you started sending him photos. at first, it was only a picture of you in underwear, but he started to ask about more nudity. you were insecure that he would leave you if you didn’t send him these photos. so you did it. and that was a huge mistake, but you were clueless.

after this carl started to distance himself from you, but he always had an excuse for his actions. and you blindly believed him, because why would he lie to his girlfriend?

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ ⸻⸻⸻ ❝what kind of fucking friend are you? what the fuck? i’ve trusted you. you’re fucking coward and i would have never done this to you. i would never done this to you ❞ ⸻⸻⸻ ✯

one day, he asked you if you wanted to go out to his friend’s party. you obviously said yes because you hadn't spent time with each other lately and you missed him. you’ve spent ages getting ready for this party; you wanted to look stunning for carl. you picked up your best dress and asked your mom to do your makeup.

the party was normal; everyone was drunk as fuck, but you didn’t mind, even if you weren’t the drink type of person. you were looking for carl, because he disappeared a few minutes ago. you found him standing at the table next to the tv.

“hi everyone! so i know you were waiting for a result from my challenge.” everyone started to clap; only you were so confused about this situation, but you just joined the rest of the people clapping.

your smile faded when you saw on the screen these pictures you sent him and a few videos he must have recorded without your permission, showing you and carl having sex. you didn’t listen to what carl was saying; you felt like it wasn’t real. please this must be a dream you thought. you didn’t realize that you were crying.

every single person started to laugh and record your reaction, you were only a fucking bet, and you knew that it was weird that carl started to find you interesting. but you thought that finally someone would really love you. you were wrong. once again.

you left the party, with a broken heart and ruined social life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

sorry for any mistakes!!

love ya:))

#angst #imagines #shameless #carl gallagher #sadnees #bad ending #fiona gallagher #lip gallagher #x f reader #second person narration #sad imagines #backstabber #kesha

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itlearns · 1 month

Text

Miles is deliberate. Thorough and precise. Miles remembers what makes you twitch and when you take an inhale a bit too sharply. Miles is gentle and careful.

After all you did that’s nearly not enough. After all you’ve put both of you through that’s way too much. You want Miles to rip your ribcage open and burrow his teeth into your beating heart so you could still feel it being torn apart.

But Miles is kind. And Miles is merciless.

Miles makes your nerves sing. And – just for so long – it is louder than your guilty consciousness.

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blackrosesandwhump · 2 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 7: Suffering in Silence

CW: 2nd person pov, bleeding, stab wound

Pain knifes through you. You grit your teeth against it and pull your overcoat closer to hide the wound. Your steps are slowing, your legs getting weaker, but you can’t stop, not when the others need you—

A spasming cough makes you double over. Blood speckles your hand. That’s not good. That’s pretty bad, in fact. But you walk on, suffering in silence as snow falls lightly through the dark.

A little stab wound won’t phase you.

The cold seeps into your bones, and you shiver. Another slice of pain under your ribs. But they need you, so you keep going.

@febuwhump

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clanceey · 4 months

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Blood Comfort (ellie williams x reader)

Summary:

Directly following the events of The Last of Us 2, a heavily injured Ellie washes up on the shore of your lighthouse in a rowboat. You decide to aid her despite your hesitance, but when her infected wounds take a turn for the worse you turn to drastic measures. How many lives are worth this one strange girls companionship?

Genre: slow burn strangers to enemies to lovers

Warnings: violence, gore, sex, yearning, like anything you would probably expect i don't know ;((

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #second person narration #the last of us 2

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s0ftandsad · 6 months

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Another one shot!

I'm honestly so proud of what I wrote. It took me like 10 months to write and perfect it. It might be better than my Tony Stark/reader one-shot. To be fair, I did crank out my Tony Stark/Reader one shot in two days. I was also sleep deprived haha

Back on the topic of my one-shot, it's not really spicy, but spicy stuff is mentioned. It's fluff and angst with a happy ending and somewhat of a rewrite of a scene in CA: CW. If y'all decide to take a look at my one-shot, I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts. I still have a long way to go with my writing, so constructive criticism is always welcome!!

Word Count: 1,879 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader. (I didn't use pronouns or any physical appearance descriptors. It's for anyone and everyone.)

Summary: After Lagos, Wanda is insecure and feels guilty. You comfort and reassure her.

Wanda cares a lot about what happened in Lagos and what you think of her. She confesses her feelings for you when she's not doing well.

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mxacegrey · 10 months

Text

Sitting at your desk, you wrote in the case files before you. Suddenly a bright red light buzzed from your computer, reading 'Timeline fracture -- Alternate timeline detected'. Frantically, you accessed the system to reveal the location of such an anomaly. Sighing in annoyance, you collected the case files, letters that had sat on the corner of your desk, and your bag before opening a time portal to the location.

Alarms rang as you walked into the cortex, scrolling through documents on your tablet. You sat down on a chair you had dragged out from the med bay, facing the door when the suspects in question arrived.

"Who the hell are you?" A man in a tight red suit asked, the rest of the group holding a weapon in your direction.

"Please put the weapons down. I'm here for a Mr. Allen. Mr. Bartholomew Henry Allen." You explained calmly before pointing at the man in the red suit. "Which, I take it, is you, sir. I also assume that your friends here are Francisco Ramon, Dr Caitilin Snow, Joe, Wally, and Iris West."

"What do you want?" Mr. Allen asked, removing the mask from his face, and glaring at you.

"I am simply here to hand you this letter and to tell you that you and your compatriots are due for a trial for your crimes against the timeline." You stated, taking out a small stack of letters from your bag and attempting to hand it to the group. As you attempted to hand the papers, the group moved away from you. Raising an eyebrow, you simply placed the documents on the table before moving back.

"Who are you?" Cisco asked cautiously, watching you step back.

"My name is Y/N. Y/N Thawne." You replied, causing the group to step back from you in shock. Joe raised his gun at your head, shooting a bullet straight at you. Within a split second, you caught the bullet between your thumb and index finger. Moving your hand down to your side, you looked at the group in disappointment and veiled annoyance.

"W...What are you doing?" Wally asked as he watched you take out your tablet and start typing.

"None of you seem to be very receptive to me being here so I am calling in my partner. Perhaps he will have better luck." You replied, looking up at the group sharply.

"Your husband is a psychopath, who killed my mother!" Barry iterated for the seventh time since you revealed your name. You shook your head and rolled your eyes in annoyance. You noticed a time portal opening from behind the group and called out to your partner,

"E. I had no idea you were a psychopath or that you killed Nora Allen."

"I had no idea either." Your partner replied, causing the group to turn around in shock at the familiar voice.

"Eddie?!" Iris called out, walking towards Eddie, who walked past the group and wrapped an arm around your waist. A streak of red lightning followed Eddie as a man in yellow stopped next to him.

"Oh, Crap." The man in yellow exclaimed as he took his mask off.

"Hold it right there, Eobard." You and Eddie scolded the man, as he was about to run off once more.

"... Hello." Eobard smiled, waving mockingly at Team Flash.

"He's a murderer!" Barry yelled, his eyes tearing up as he pointed at Eobard. "Why would you let him out?!"

"Technically yes. But his actions are the ones that we told him to take." You explained before turning to Eobard. "And Eo, take that damn illusion off."

"Fine." He replied, before pressing a button on his watch. Team Flash watched in shock as Eobard seemed to get younger until he was a teenager. "Better, Mum? Dad?"

"Much." You and Eddie replied before opening a time portal back to your offices.

"She was my mother! And your son murdered her!" Barry yelled at the trio, causing you to turn with a slightly sympathetic look on your face.

"I mean this in the nicest way possible but your mother was essentially timeline collateral. Her death is a fixed point in time. As you can tell, messing with such events can have devasting effects." You replied before speeding away with Eobard, leaving behind purple lightning.

"Try not to mess with the timeline anymore, Allen. You've already created masses of paperwork." Eddie replied before leaving in blue lightning.

Upon entering your office, Eobard looked at you and Eddie in mock innocence.

"Love you, Mum and Dad."

"You're grounded... And no Barty." You told Eobard, exchanging a smirk with Eddie.

"What, no Barty?!" Eobard exclaimed, shocked.

"No Barty." Eddie repeated. Eobard left the room, his red lightning following him. Eddie pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to yours. His left hand held yours, your matching golden wedding rings glistening in the light.

Months went by until you were interrupted once more by a bright red light buzzing from your computer. Your desk was cluttered with paperwork regarding Flashpoint and the new changes to the timeline that had to be recorded and analyzed.

"What?" You called out, bemused as you looked at the computer.

'Timeline fracture -- Death of individual too early'

'Location: Infantino Street'

"What?!" You exclaimed as you read the notice. Eddie walked up behind you, his chin on your shoulder.

'Harrison "HR" Wells (Earth 19) - Deceased May 23, 2017'

"WHAT?!" You and Eddie yelled, eyes wide in shock.

#eddie thawne x fem! reader #eddie thawne x reader #team flash x reader #team flash #cw the flash #platonic eobard thawne x reader #fem reader #eddie thawne #eddie thawne x you #second person narration #fluff #minimal angst #consquences #timelines #post-flashpoint

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fuckingwhateverdude · 7 months

Text

10.1.23

#thought too much today #i want my dad to want to talk to me so bad #fuck #my writing #my writing tag #poetry #original poem #spilled ink #mental illness #bipolar disorder #vent writing #fathers and daughters #self hatred #second person narration

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pegasister60 · 2 years

Text

NO. 16 NO WAY OUT

Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | "No one's coming."

Billy's still in there. They've taken control of his body and thus his powers but he's not brainwashed. He knows right from wrong, he doesn’t want to do any of this. He just can’t move.

You feel like screaming.

You were so close, so fucking close, to breaking that dumb sorcerer of the week’s staff.

If you’d managed to snag it you could’ve snapped it over your knee, charred the remains into some unrecognizable crisps, and then hit the guy through a wall and called it a day.

Instead, you’ve been crammed further into your own headspace than you’ve ever been in your life and you’re currently rushing back to front while your body probably moves without you. Which, y’know, wouldn’t normally be at all alarming—Marvel and Mercury take point by themselves in a number of do or die situations and you are comfortable with that—if it weren’t for the fact that the person moving you is about to make you kill your coworkers.

So, yeah, internal screaming is appropriate here.

You feel Solomon pull you to the front and it saves you from getting lost on your way back. You nearly slam into the controls but manage to keep from hitting them hip first.

You’re a little surprised Marvel isn’t here but it makes sense. You were both fronting when the spell made contact so it stands to reason you both got tossed to the back. Solomon can bring him to front, you’ve got to rip this fucker a new one.

Except you can’t.

Nothing’s working. You can’t move, you can’t speak, you’re not even sure the body’s breathing. The degree of control the spell has over you is fucking alarming and were it not for Achilles showing up to do his job you’d probably get pulled from front until you calm down.

There’s a bright side to this situation: the sorcerer probably can’t read your mind and thus has no idea that you’re about to conspire against him with your headmates instead of blindly following along. So you have privacy to think of a way out of this while Marvel appears beside you to keep an eye on the situation outside.

So, the facts.

Your body isn’t responding to attempts to front from you or Marvel at all. You don’t normally think about what it feels like to move an arm but having nothing happen at all is a deeply unsettling feeling. You feel Achilles brush that aside for you and focus on other aspects of your situation.

You call for the slightest bit of lightning and none crackles from your fingertips despite Zeus’ efforts. That’s a bummer because your body is currently being made to carry the sorcerer a state over and it’d be cool if you could shock him into dropping his staff or something. But that’s a no-go.

The guy can clearly make use of your blessings given that flight and the Speed of Mercury are active. Mercury himself is none too pleased about this and is swearing up a storm of curses in the corner. This is not reassuring.

Solomon reminds you that the League may not be a match for Captain Marvel but they’re certainly enough to handle the sorcerer. And with that there’s the start of a plan.

Marvel is still trying to use the controls and you just let him. Achilles will step in if he gets any more distraught about this and you’d gladly settle for the Courage of Billy Batson if Marvel needs the blessing more.

Instead, you focus on the outside.

Of course this guy made you fly straight to Metropolis. He wants you to take out Superman before any back-up can come and then annihilate the back-up. You want to tell him to fucking shove it, but instead your arms set him down on a rooftop and you’re scanning the sky.

You reach forward in the hope that maybe now that you’re further from the staff that you can do something. No dice.

Instead, you feel a stab of helplessness that Achilles can’t touch as Superman comes in sight.

It’s an immediate shift. The air crackles with magic that should be yours alone and in a delayed reaction you are filled with rage. How fucking dare this guy do this to you, to Captain Marvel. The fucking audacity to think he can disrupt your headspace like this and keep his knees.

“When this starts working again I’m going to beat him into the ground.” You look at the room’s other occupants. “And you’re all going to let me.”

It’s not even a demand. It's a fact. This sorcerer’s a dead man walking.

Hercules claps a hand on your shoulder.

He moves back from where you hadn’t even noticed him trying to fight off the control. He can’t do it, it’s not control of the mind or of emotions. That guy is out there puppeting your body and powers only in such an infuriating loophole. But at least your head’s clear again. You’ll revisit your homicidal rage later.

Oh, wow, you didn’t even realize the body’s been fighting Superman for a hot second. Stuff is on fire and everything.

The other thing you can be grateful for is that the sorcerer clearly doesn’t know your real strengths.

Yeah, he’s making the body sling the Power of Zeus’ lightning at Superman and that’s gotta hurt, but he’s not using it to power up the Strength of Hercules.

The Speed of Mercury could definitely be stacked on both of them to make a flurry of devastating blows that would put Supes in the infirmary for days. Instead it’s just being used to make the body zip around and dodge blows.

And since the guy can’t read your mind, he can’t access the Wisdom of Solomon. Small mercies.

You’re not paying super close attention to the fight itself anymore—it’s too crowded in front now for you to see—and are instead hanging back with Solomon as you try to find flaws in the plan. Well, besides the glaring one.

You really, really don’t like this plan. It feels like it should be a last ditch effort, but with every grunt of pain you hear from Superman it feels more and more like your only option.

So much of it is just sitting around and waiting. Hoping that your teammates can get you the opening you need.

Because they’re here now. You’re in front again now that everyone else has stepped back to let you see. The Justice League is on the scene and the fight’s moved to the ground, which is great for the plan.

You can only catch glimpses of your teammates but it seems like they’ve engaged the sorcerer. They have correctly identified his bullshit staff as the source of the problem. Solomon offers to tell you its name but you don’t care.

Civilians must have been cleared out of the area and/or fled because now Flash has joined the fight. This is also good for the plan.

You just need two seconds.

You hate this plan, actually. It’d terrify you if Achilles wasn’t right behind you and if Marvel wasn’t right beside you.

Solomon says it’s the best option. Marvel says it’ll be okay. Achilles tells you to be brave.

So, when the staff gets knocked out of the sorcerer’s hands, you don’t hesitate. You lunge forward for the controls and fight through the lingering stiffness to say the name.

“Shazam!”

Relief floods you as the lightning strikes and reverts you to your small form. You’ve never been more happy to be small and frail and malnourished than when you feel the spell take hold again.

You don’t even care that that asshole just made your small form break its good hand trying to punch the Man of Steel, though Atlas is certainly feeling it. You’re laughing and it’s edging towards sounding hysterical.

It’s a pyrrhic victory that feels more like a loss when you watch Superman process what just happened. What it means.

Achilles grips your shoulder tightly to keep you from freaking out at the look of absolute rage on Superman’s face. Supes turns that gaze on someone you can’t see behind you and walks right past your small form’s attempts to harm him.

Damn, the sorcerer might not even have knees by the time you get your turn.

Whumptober: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, ALT 12, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, ALT 1, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31.

94 notes · View notes