#and like it's alright if you are inside and it takes you two minutes

[kuroosatoru]

all to myself - mechanic!toji nsfw oneshot

cw: nsfw!!!, size kink, head(giving and receiving), switch!toji, dilftoji, coworker trope ig, unprotected p in v, he cleans you up ;), not proofread;-;

wc: 2k (yeahhhh it gets pretty steamy, buckle up buttercup)

the summer heat was starting to get to you, the ac in the shop had been broken for a while now and it's not like your boss was making a point to get it fixed. you finish putting a new battery in a car as a bead of sweat crept down your face, preemptively turning around as you see toji's reflection in the silver of the hood, "are you sure you've got that? i wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, doll." he asks, poking fun at the fact you were too small to be working on cars in the first place. you laugh dryly, "seems easy enough if you can do it, does it not?" you reply, causing toji to take a step back. "hey my fault being concerned. boss wants ya though." toji says, his tone had shifted, and you couldn't help but worry that you hurt his feelings, "oh, alright. i'll head over there when in a minute." you reply. toji nods, walking away briskly.

toji was a confusing man, flirting with you one day and completely ignoring you the next. it should've turned you away from him, but if anything, it just made you more interested in the older man.

it's only here do you realize just how good the dark haired man looks in his uniform, his grease-stained coveralls tied around his waist, revealing the black tank underneath, which hugged his pecs and exposed his large arms. your mind began to wander, and toji could feel eyes on him, "it's not nice to stare, y/n!" he yells across the garage with a sly smirk. having been called out, you start to blush and turn around, unable to find something to say back to him. usually, the two of you would have kept going, but something had changed. you say your end of service spiel to the customer, lead them back to their vehicle and make your way into the bosses' office.

-

you reach the end of your shift, and now it's just you and toji closing up shop. after mopping the floor and counting the register, it's time for you to get changed out of your coveralls and head home. you open the door and start to get undressed when you hear the door open behind you, "oh! sorry i can wait." you exclaim, aware that toji needs to pick megumi up from daycare. he licks his lips, "nah, it's okay, doll. ladies first." he says, backing out of the room. you turn to lock the door, but you decide to leave it open just a crack, hopeful toji would come back or better yet, take you home with him.

you shimmy out of your uniform, and toji watches from the inviting crack in the door. unable to take his eyes away from your beautifully greasy and sweaty body, the way your panties hugged your hips made his throat dry. his mind wandering and leading him to his thick, long, cock making your stomach puff up. he decided then and there that he wanted, no, needed to be inside of you. you turn around, noticing toji,"fuhisguro! what are you doing?" you exclaim sarcastically, opening the door. "oh you don't know what you do to me, y/n." toji practically whispers, closing and finally locking the door behind him, his cock was already twitching at just the thought of finally having you to himself. despite the two of you being alone, you got excited at the potential of getting caught.

toji towered over you, his eyes now darkened with lust. you reach for his bulge and he lets out a moan so small, you swear you misheard him, "oh i think i do." you say, untying his coveralls. your fingers graze his waistband and he flinches. "is this okay?" you ask, slightly concerned you did something wrong. toji looks down at you, "you never have to ask, doll. 's just been a while." you nod, taking the tip of his member into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as he whimpers.

"fuck, y/n." he mumbles, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat, causing you to grip his muscular thighs for stability as you gag a little bit. you dig your nails in, sending chills down his spine; he grabs your hair with one hand and uses the other to wipe the sweat from his forehead. toji can barely handle it, and he lets out a moan as he finishes in your throat.

"shit, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to." he stutters out as he takes his semi-hard member out of your mouth. you smile and swallow his load, making him blush, "it's okay, toji. but what do you want to do now?" you ask with a slight smile as you stand up.

"well, doll. i gotta pick up the kid, so [...]" he trails off, grabbing a shop rag to wipe himself clean. you both put on your normal clothes and head out to your cars so you can go back to your respective homes.

-

toji could not stop thinking about you whatsoever, and while the blowjob was mind-blowing, he was stuck up on the fact that he never returned the favor. so, after dropping off gumi at his friends house, he decided to go to your place. hoping you decided to stay in for the day. toji arrives and you open the door for him, surprised to see him, "oh? what are you doing here?" you ask playfully. stepping aside to let him in, you finally get the chance to see him the way you've always iamagined.

today toji had on basketball shorts, which didn't leave much left to imagine, not that the burning image of his cock shoved into your mouth wasn't bright as day, but still. you had just gotten out of the shower when he answered, so you had on nothing but a thin robe, causing toji's mouth to water as he imagined the beautiful body underneath. "y/n, i can't stop thinking about that night." he admits to you sheepishly as you lead him to your couch.

"if you sit down, i can do it again," you reply with a smirk, patting the couch next to you. toji shakes his head, "no, doll. i wanted to taste you." he says, now standing in front of you, nudging your legs open with his knee.

"mmm, please?" he urges, taking your hand in his, getting onto his knees. you take a second to think about it, and open your legs to let him in, but not before taking a second to actually look at him. he's rugged. his black hair tousled into a sexily messy pile as his dark eyes looked into yours. you can tell he hasn't shaved in a while, his stubble starting to come back, but you decided that wouldn't be an issue. you needed this.

toji reaches his and towards your now throbbing clit, "oh you're so wet for me, doll," he smirks, finally touching you as you moan in respose. his large digits slide into you as he runs his tongue along your folds, he smiles to himself when he feels you tightening around his fingers. seeing how you moved your hips to have more of him was causing a tent to form in his shorts and he groans against you as he gently takes your clit into his mouth, and you can feel your legs tremble already. you can feel yourself about to finish, and toji can too. your wanton moans filled the room as he kept eating you out.

and then he stops, taking his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth to suck them clean. "tojiiii," you whine in response, "i wasn't done yet." he smirks at you, any part of his personailty now taken over by lust. he leans forward to kiss you, "im sorry, but i need to be inside of you, doll." he says. as he takes his shorts off to reveal his member, you see the precum leaking from the tip.

he places his fingers on your lips, "open up, pretty girl, i want you to tatse youself too." he commands, and as you suck on his digits, he lets out a loud moan, "mmm, that's a good girl."

toji takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses your spit to lubricate himself, the tip of his dick now positioned at your entrance, begging to be let in. you nod at him, "go ahead, i can take it."

toji is big, much bigger than you've ever had, your face twists in a slight discomfort as you feel yourself stretch around him, "oh you poor thing, not used to having a real man eh?" toji remarks, starting his routine of gentle, short strokes into you. if we're being honest, you weren't 'used to' anything toji did, his deceiving demeanor constantly surprising you.

you wrap your legs around toji as he starts to speed up his thrusts, his long cock poking at your g-spot as you dig your nails into his back.

toji felt the knot in the pit of this stomach tighten as his thrusts got rougher, the rhythm he once had being taken away by how intoxicating your pussy was to him. he buries his face in your neck and leaves bite marks trailing down to your shoulder, "y/n," he warned, "i'm close." maybe he didn't mind having another kid he thought to himself as he saw your face contorting to reflect the intense pleasure his body brought you, "mmmh, too." you mumble, his cock causing you to lose all sense of self as your legs push yourself away from him in a futile attempt to move.

"nuh-uh, doll. no running away this time," toji whispers as he pulls you back to him. now, he's bottomed out, the tip of his member making a clear bump towards the bottom of your stomach. you look down at the symphony of squelching the two of you are making and you cum around toji, gripping his shoulders to stop yourself from ascending to the heavens as your vision turns white. toji grips your hips and proceeds to use you to finish himself off, and you can't say you hated being his toy.

"oh holy shit, y/n. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, look at you, taking it like a good girl." toji says with a whimper as he finishes inside of you. he doesn't pull out right away, in fact, he never wants this moment to end. with your face contorted in pleasure as your sweet pussy was still gripping him, he thinks to himself maybe i don't mind having another kid.

the puzzle the two of you were entangled in dissipated as the grip you had on toji got exceedingly weaker. your legs fall, letting him pull out. the mixture of your fluids soon started to fall from your legs and as you reach for something to clean yourself up with, he stops you. "i want to do it," he says eagerly, your brain unable to decipher what he meant after toji had you reach your limit just now. "okay, but you have to be gentle," you reply sheepishly, willing to take yourself as far as toji would help you along the way. he grins, excited that you're willing to be his toy.

toji gets back into his well-earned spot in-between your legs, your pussy slightly red from the fun he had just had with you. he blows a cold breath onto you, causing you to flinch in excitement. he kisses your entrance before sticking his tongue inside of you, swirling it in circles just how you did when you started this whole thing. you throw your head back against the couch you honestly forgot you were on and scream, "oh god toji, p-please don't stop." your eyes meet as he starts to rub your clit with his thumb.

"oh don't worry, doll. you're my new favorite toy," he says without taking his mouth off of you. you're barely holding on and you know you should've been done a long time ago, but who would've known toji had this much in him? who could've thought he'd have so much of himself in you?

notes: sorry if it's rough! but wow oh wow has this been something ive thought of a lot. i hope you enjoyed xoxo - jib

[cheeseatlantic]

i made a fort, idc that im old. i love my fort!!!! so you guys should too 🤷

HOLD THE FORT DOWN

It started with a rainy day and too much downtime. You were curled up on the couch, engrossed in a book, when Johnny sauntered in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. That look was always trouble.

“You look bored,” he said, plopping down next to you, way too close for someone who clearly had an ulterior motive.

“I’m not,” you replied, not even glancing up.

“Well, I am,” he said, his accent thickening as he stood up with exaggerated flair. “We’re makin’ a fort.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“A fort,” he repeated, already grabbing cushions from the couch. “Ye know—blankets, pillows, the whole deal. Best way to pass the time.”

“Johnny, we’re not ten.”

He shot you a mock-offended look. “Speak for yerself. I happen to have the heart of a bairn.”

“And the attention span of one too,” you muttered, but he was already dragging the coffee table closer, tossing blankets over the top like a man on a mission.

Within minutes, the living room was transformed into a chaotic masterpiece of mismatched sheets, cushions, and a couple of chairs he’d commandeered from the kitchen. Johnny crawled inside, peeking his head out with a grin. “Well? Ye comin’ in or what?”

Sighing, you set your book down and crawled into the fort. It was surprisingly cozy, lit by the faint glow of a string of fairy lights he’d apparently swiped from somewhere. “Alright, I’ll admit it—this is kinda nice.”

“Kinda?” He scoffed, pulling a bag of snacks from who-knows-where. “This is a masterpiece. A marvel o’ modern engineering.”

You laughed, leaning back against a pile of pillows. “Alright, architect, what’s the plan now?”

“Movies, obviously.” He held up a tablet triumphantly. “And snacks. Oh, and absolutely no leavin’ the fort. It’s sacred ground now.”

“Sacred, huh?”

“Swear it on ma honour,” he said, completely serious—until a chip fell from his hand, and he scrambled to catch it like his life depended on it.

The two of you spent the rest of the day cocooned in your little fortress, watching ridiculous movies and laughing at Soap’s running commentary. By the time the rain stopped, you couldn’t even remember why you’d thought this was a silly idea in the first place.

“See?” he said, grinning as he popped another chip into his mouth. “Told ye this was genius.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky I like you, MacTavish.”

He grinned wider. “Aye, I know.”

give me characters to do random shit on! i love taking requests, literally abuse tf out of my inbox if you want :)

[911onem]

There was no thought to how long he had sat in that chair, just thinking about what he was going to do for the rest of the night. All he knows is he was pulled from his silence by a knock on the front door, his head tilting in confusion as he stood and quickly made his way to the front of the house. He peeked through the side window, smiling gently as he unlocked the door and pulled it open to reveal Eddie standing there with a pack of beer.

The brown eyes were dull, but still sparkled as he lifted the drinks, waving them around carefully as he stepped inside and headed toward the fridge.

“Since we are both missing our favorite people tonight, I thought that maybe we could just hang out together. The two of us, like old times.”

Buck shrugged from behind him, making his way back to the stool as Eddie eyed the groceries, shooting his friend a look from across the counter.

“How long have these been sitting here?”

He shrugged again, fingers twisting together as Eddie gently placed the bottles on the top shelf before grabbing one of the bags and beginning to unload them.

“Buck, are you alright?”

“I came here.”

Eddie shot him a glance, pausing for a second as if asking him to continue.

“Instead of the loft, I came here. I forgot that he had left.”

He felt himself shrink as he watched the floor, Eddie still rummaging through the grocery bags as he must have been thinking of how to respond. It only took a minute, freezer sliding open as he heard him take a breath.

“I walked into Christopher’s room when I got home, was already talking to him as if he was at his desk doing his homework.”

Buck sighed, eyes watering as he thought about the kid he hadn’t seen or talked to in what felt like years.

“I miss him, he’s not answering any of my calls.”

“Yeah, but he’s a teenager. My mom said he’s spending all day at the lake with his friends, he’s barely talking to them either. I think he’s got his mind stuck on Shannon, which is clearly my fault.”

“You didn’t mean for him to find out, Eddie. It’s not like you asked for this-”

“No,” he interrupted gently, closing the freezer and shuffling over to the pantry, “But, I shouldn’t have even humored going back to that store at the promenade. I should have gone to Frank instead. Where does Tommy put these snack bars?”

“Third shelf to the left.”

He kept his gaze on the floor, feeling his knuckles pop as he continued to twist his fingers around, keeping the room in silence for a little while longer.

“Buck?”

He hummed softly in response, waiting a few seconds before looking up to see Eddie staring at him from across the space.

“What's going on?”

His chest grew heavy, body weighing him down as he shrugged his shoulders, trying to avoid eye contact as Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back against the pantry door.

“You know, he’s just gone for a couple days-”

“I know that-” He spit, anger rolling off his shoulders as he turned the stool to face away. A part of him regretted it, but neither of them spoke until feet made their way over and Eddie fell into the stool next to him.

“Buck..”

“I don’t need you to tell me I’m acting ridiculous, Eddie. I don’t need anyone telling me that he’s only gone a week- I know that.”

“I didn’t mean to make you think I was making fun of you, I'm sorry. Hey, can you look at me?” The hand that landed on his shoulder was heavy, trying to comfort him despite how difficult he was being. The moment his eyes began to swell he knew he wasn’t going to turn, arms crossing against his chest as he stared out the window just across the living room.

“You know, he texted me about an hour ago. He asked me to swing by and check on you.”

His hands shook as he rolled his eyes, a single tear sliding at the motion.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, we never have before.”

The attitude dropped at the words, chest aching as the hand on his shoulder pressed down a little harder, using him as leverage to lift his body up and walk until he was standing directly in front of his partner.

“I’m here for whatever you need to talk about.”

“It’s stupid,” he groaned, sob pulling from his chest as he lifted a hand to cover the side of his face. His fingers were still shaking, face going red in embarrassment as he struggled to suck a solid breath back into his lungs.

“I bet it’s not,” Eddie argued carefully.

“Your son is in another state and I’m throwing a fit about my boyfriend being gone for a week-”

“Hey,” the voice was stern, cutting him off as both hands took places on each of Buck’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Cut that out.”

“I always make things about me-”

“No, you don’t. I know we make stupid jokes, but you don’t make things all about you, Buck. How you feel is important, and you’ve been down all day and I’m worried about you. Now talk to me, tell me what's going on.”

He took a deep breath, pushing into his hand as his bottom lip quivered, losing the battle within himself rather quickly. He couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat and it wasn’t until a hand raised onto the back of his neck that he thought about Tommy doing the same thing at the airport; That thought alone had him choking on another sob.

“I’m scared, Eddie.”

“About what?” He questioned softly.

“That he’s not going to come back and I’ll be stuck in this house just like I was with Abby.”

Eddie froze, sighing in understanding as he pulled his hand away from his shoulder and dragged the nearest stool underneath him. They mirrored each other, Eddie giving him his space as he ignored pulling Buck’s hand away to rest it on his knee instead.

“Listen, I know I came around at the end of all of that, but what Abby was going through had nothing to do with you. She seemed to have a lot of issues and none of it was your fault-”

“What if it was?” He argued sadly, chest shuddering between breaths. “What if it's just me that no one can stand?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because,” he wept, “everyone leaves me at some point and I can never get them to stay. Daniel, he died because of me. My parents, I wasn’t enough to keep them from their grief. Maddie left, Abby left, Ali left, you left, Chim left, Bobby just retired- It’s all because of me-”

“Listen, Bobby retiring wasn’t because of you, and you and I both know he’s trying his damndest to get back to the 118. Maddie, she came back. Chimney, me? We came back, we just needed a break. None of it was your fault, I can promise you that with everything I am. Chris, he’s going to come back, on his own time. And Tommy? He is not Abby, he’s ten times more a better person than she ever was and I know he’s counting down the minutes until he can jump back on that plane and come home to you.”

“I love him, Eddie.” He pulled his hand away just enough for Eddie to see watery blues, face crumbled in distress. “I’ve never loved anyone like this before and I’m terrified he’s going to see what everyone else saw and leave me behind.”

Eddie frowned, using the hand on the back of his neck to draw him closer, not letting go until tears were staining his t-shirt and Eddie was back on his feet, taking in the weight of his best friend’s body.

“I can’t predict the future, Buck. But, I can tell you that Tommy is head over heels in love with you, and the way he talks about you doesn’t give me a single thought that believes he would leave you behind.”

“Really?” He sobbed into his shoulder.

“Really, matter of fact, he’s going to kill me for this, but he told me something last week that you’re really going to want to know.” Buck didn’t respond, but Eddie knew he was listening as he held him a little tighter, “He’s going to ask you to move in with him when he comes home.”

The sobs grew, Eddie smiling sadly as Buck's hands came to wrap around him, holding him just as tight. He didn’t say anything more for a few minutes, giving him a moment to fall apart before Eddie could help him come back together.

[vi0l3tluvsu]

“Pretty Kitty!”

Tate Langdon and service cat!reader

tags: Tate and reader being cute, kinda silly, you help manage his thoughts, cat dad Tate,

!!not proofread!!

A/n: idk I thought this idea was so fucking silly 😭😭 so here you go guys you’re welcome

You tiptoed along the headboard, tail lightly flicking here and there until you sat just above Tate’s head. His alarm was going to go off any minute and it was your job to make sure he actually got up for school.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! “It’s another sunny day in-“ Tate groaned at the sound of his alarm and rolled over, he hadn’t pressed snooze, he completely turned it off. You stretched, leaning to paw at his hair and face, he gently swatted at your paws, attempting to get you to stop. However, this swatting only ended in you slipping from your stoop and landing on him.

“nmmmrrrrEEOW” you attempted to skitter away but got caught in the sheets and couldn’t get free. Tate lazily sat up on his elbows and giggled at you. You growled slightly, eyeing him.

“Okay, okay, I’m up, alright?” Tate pushed himself up and flipped the covers onto you, wrapping like a baby in the thin green blanket that he’d been hoping you would land on. You purred as he held you while he prepared to get ready for the day; brushing his teeth, combing his wild blonde hair, picking out clothes. Every item he contemplated wearing he asked you about. “What do you think? Is it a blue sweater day? No, I don’t think so either.” It was ironic, you always thought it was a blue sweater day.

Once he was dressed Tate made sure to get you dressed too. Since you came with him everywhere, you too had a closet. It was a repainted American Girl Doll closet filled to the brim with dresses, sweaters, and rain accessories. Sometimes, Tate would layout options for you to wear and let you paw at whichever one you wanted, but not today. Today was inportant for him, it was his first day of Junior year and he needed you to look the best you could so people wouldn’t stare as much. It wasn’t like you ever left your carrier unless you alerted, but his worry overpowered any rational thought about you not actually being seen. He pulled out three options, one was a green and black plaid pleaded dress, it matched his sweater. He sighed, putting it back. The second was a wool, light blue sweater, when he pulled it out you meowed and weaved between his legs to stop him from putting it away. He smiled, taking notice to your interest.

“You wanna wear this one?” He cooed, scooping you up. You meowed happily and pawed at the sweater, he rolled his eyes and put you down on the bed to put the sweater on you. After the struggle to get you into the sweater you insisted on wearing, he put you on his shoulder and the two of you went downstairs to eat breakfast before he put you in your carrier and rode his skateboard to school and you had to listen to teachers drone on about how their summer was and every class syllabus.

“I told you, you cannot carry that mangy thing around like a doll.” Constance was leaning on the kitchen sink, sipping on her morning coffee when Tate rounded the corner, you were comfortably laying on him like a weird scarf, stretched out around his neck, tail flicking about. “Seriously, Tate, what if it nicks you.” Tate huffed, rolling his eyes as he lifted you and placed you on the floor. He poured you some breakfast and then made himself some, talking with Constance as he ate. You finished quickly, turning and rubbing up against his legs, meowing and purring to get him to pick you up again. Constance sighed, a disgusted look coming across her face, “you coddle that thing too much.” Tate huffed again, bending down and finishing his breakfast next to you on the floor. You curled up in his lap and purred, calming the small anger building inside of him.

“I’m going to school.” Tate slummed as he picked you up and placed his bowl on the island counter, bragging his bag from the entrance way before heading outside and placing you in your carrier. He slug you over his shoulder and rode his skateboard to school.

For September it was surprisingly warm, the small wind from the skateboard making you feel slightly uncomfortable in the heat. “Almost there!” Tate called down to you as he came to a slow stop at a crosswalk. A group of teens came up next to the two of you, kids from his school.

“Nice pussy!” The driver shouted, “guess that’s the only kind you can get!” Tate turned to yell something back but as the light turned green they sped off down the road. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth and riding onward to the school’s parking lot. He cooled down a bit as he walked to his advisory period, it was a little hard for students to understand why he had two bags, until you meowed through the mesh window at him. His face flushed as you pawed at the walls of your small enclosure, you’d been trained all summer to tolerate it, and you could! But not when Tate was obviously becoming worked up by all the people coming in and out.

He attempted to hush you, nudging the bag for you to stop pawing and mewing, but when that didn’t work he just became more embarrassed. “Come on.. hey.. stop..” he whispered, reaching a hand into your carrier. You started licking his hand, rubbing your head against it and purring. His embarrassment went away a little as you did this. Mission accomplished. He smiled, petting and stroking your fur until you rolled over and went to sleep at the sight of him being calm.

A couple of periods went by without a hitch, you awoke a few times and Tate fed you your wet food, gave you his coat, but it seemed overall the first day was going to be alright. During his lunch period, Tate took the two of you to the library, unpacking his lunch and yours.

“Alright Pretty, time to eat for real.” He poured your wet food into a small dish and unwrapped his own food as you started to eat. When you looked back up, the teens from that morning were there.

“A cat and its little bitch, huh?” One laughed, reaching over and picking you up by the scruff. “Aww so helpless.” A second said, throwing their head back in laughter.

“Hey! Give them back!” Tate stood, looking from you to the boy to you. “You can’t do that, they’re working.” Tate started to approach, but the second boy grabbed him by the collar, holding him just too far from you to catch if you fell. “Seriously! This isn’t cool.” Tate stuttered through his sentence, he was starting to get worked up but you couldn’t sooth him from here.

“Poor Tate, right? With a service animal. I bet you just carry the cat around for fun.” He shook you slightly, causing a small hiss to escape you. “Ohh kitty’s got claws?” He poked at your stomach and as a split reaction, despite being trained, you bit him. You weren’t supposed to be away from Tate anyhow, and you were being threatened. “Ow! Fucking thing.” He dropped you, and once you hit the floor, kicked at you. Tate’a emotions bubbled to the surface and, before anyone could react, he punched the first boy in the face full force. His fist retracting on impact as he shook out the pain. “Aw FUCK!” The boy shouted as he hit the floor, the second was quicker on his feet, sending a hand across Tate’s face when Tate bent down to get you.

Tate’s thinking was just a little faster, however, and he hit the second kid square in the gut, sending him to the ground too. You were curled up under the table when he bent down, careful of where he touched you. “Are you alright, pretty kitty?” He cooed gently at you, putting a hand near your face to smell him. You got up slightly, crawling over to him and rubbing your head against his arms as he scooped you up once again. You purred, cuddling up to his chest and slowly falling asleep, a hand brushing on your fur gently, kissing your head, and coddling you.

The end because I’ve had this wip saved for awhile >_<

[lynnieverse]

undertow // collision

Rafe Cameron/OG Female Character

✰ first chapter!

✰ 3.8k words

✰ chapter song -> control by halsey

✰ tags: morally grey, one-sided rivalry, mystery, mutual pining, tension, redemption

✰ a/n: this is the first chapter of my fic I’ve been writing…let me know if you like it and want more!! thank you :)

Going back to Figure Eight was the absolute last thing Lennox Thornton wanted to do. She had escaped it for roughly three years, and now that she was back...she was less than enthused. Dragging all her bags up the driveway, she braced herself for seeing her family again.

The large white door of her parent's house swung open, revealing her beaming mother. Lennox was immediately engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, taking in a sharp breath upon impact.

"Lennox! You're home!" she gushed, pulling back slightly to get a good look at her daughter. Lennox noticed her lack of makeup, glasses, and blonde hair twisted up into a bun. That, along with the navy scrubs her mother was sporting, told her it was an in-office day at her practice.

"Hey, Mom," she smiled. "Gotta work today?" she was still holding on to her, like she was afraid she'd disappear.

"Unfortunately, yes. I have to head out right now actually, but I wanted to be home when you got here." Lennox smiled fondly at that; she loved her mom. If there was one thing she hated about moving away for college, it was the distance.

They both shuffled inside and Lennox took a look around, noticing more unfamiliar decor than when she was there last.

"Looks great in here." Lennox commented, earning a happy gasp from her mom.

"Thank you! I was trying something new." They chatted for a few more minutes before her mom made a face, seeming to remember something. She turned towards the stairs and yelled, "Topper get down here and say hello to your sister!" Turning towards Lennox, she went on to say, "He was taking a nap and told me to wake him up when you got home." Lennox nodded in understanding, shifting the bag on her shoulder uncomfortably.

Footsteps pounded against the floor above them and down the stairs; suddenly she was on the floor. Her bags splayed out around her as she tried to squirm out from under him.

"Topper!" She groaned, pinned to the ground. Their mom laughed and shook her head, ignoring her only daughter clearly dying in front of her.

"Alright you two, I've got to run, don't kill each other please!" she said before speed walking out of the house, Topper still crushing her on the floor.

"Hey, sis! How's it going?"

"It'd be a lot better if your fat ass wasn't on top of me," she groaned, definitely feeling bruises start to form. He laughed and jumped up, offering her a hand. As she steadied herself, and collected everything off the floor, Topper was practically bursting at the seams to tell her something.

"You ready for tonight?" he asked, clearly excited.

"What's tonight?" Lennox asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

"You. Me. Party." She internally groaned; this boy partied like it was his life support.

"Uh, no. I just got here, I'm exhausted."

"Oh come on! You've been gone for forever, and we can finally go out. Please?" He looked at her with puppy dog eyes, the ones he knew she couldn't resist. Lennox huffed and rubbed a hand down her face.

"Fine. But I probably won't stay long." Topper pumped his hand in the air in victory.

"Yes! I don't even care, we're going to have so much fun." Lennox chuckled, he was so goofy.

"Grab one of these and come on," she gestured to the bags surrounding them. Topper, for once, didn't even pull a face. He just did what she said willingly; it was every big sister's dream. He must have really wanted her at that party. She watched him carry her stuff up the stairs with ease, a brief moment of sadness hitting her at how grown up he was.

She hadn't been the best at coming home for the holidays recently, and he'd really shot up in the past couple of years. He actually looked like a man...gross.

They finally made it to her door, and he haphazardly threw everything on her bed. Lennox rolled her eyes, but followed suit, then collapsed on the ground dramatically. In her defense, there were a lot of stairs.

"Alright I guess I have to get ready for this party then...who's hosting?" she called up at him, squinting her eyes against the light. Topper scrunched his eyebrows.

"I actually have no idea, let me go figure that out!" Lennox snorted as he ran away, probably texting all his friends. She forced herself to sit up, looking around at all her luggage. She shouldn't have really been surprised, she had packed it all, but having to face it was a different story. She let herself have one breath before she got to work, the next hour a blur of hangers and storage bins. When she finally felt accomplished enough to move on, she got to work on her makeup, hair, and outfit for the party.

She was just finishing slipping on her shoes when Topper once again appeared in her doorway. This time he had donned a button down shirt and khaki shorts–the standard uniform for OBX. She grabbed her bag and stood in front of him expectantly.

"Ready?" he asked absentmindedly, typing something out on his phone. She hit the back of his hand, making him juggle the device before catching it.

He glared at her. "What was that for?"

"Get off your phone and be present, Topper," she scolded. He looked at her in disbelief, slowly sliding the phone into his pocket.

"Did you just go all 'Mom mode' on me?" he asked, voice rising in pitch. Lennox shrugged, shoving past him.

"Yep, now let's go." Still confused, Topper followed her to his Jeep, unlocking it quickly before they both hopped in. Lennox smoothed down her white dress and sat quietly as Topper peeled out of their driveway. The drive was mostly filled with music, until the route started to feel very familiar.

"Why are we driving towards the Cameron's house?" Lennox turned towards him slowly in her seat. Topper flinched slightly, guilt seeping into his expression.

"About that..."

"Nope, take me home." Lennox crossed her arms, shaking her head back and forth.

"Len, please."

"No, Topper! I refuse to step foot in the same room as him. I won't do it."

"Then I'll make sure he stays away. Please? It would mean a lot to me if you came," he glanced over to her, hopeful. She thought about it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons. She could let loose, have some fun with her brother, but she could also run into him.

Not wanting to rain on his parade, she conceded. "Fine. But you better keep him away."

"I will, I promise!"

Topper did not keep him away. Topper disappeared as soon as they entered the house. Topper was going to die tonight.

The Cameron's house was crowded to say the least. Lennox had bumped into countless amounts of people, and although she was tucked in a corner, she was no less than an arms length away from someone at all times. She had decided upon nursing her beer by herself, seeing as there were almost nobody she was friendly with there. Instead, she entertained herself with people watching.

Everyone was stumbling around, drinks sloshing out of their cups, or dancing to the loud pop music coming out of the speakers in the corner. Some couples were making out on the couches, and there was a beer pong table set up in the next room over, which she could see through the doorway. It was entertaining to say the least.

The only thing off about it was the heavy cloud that had been hovering over her all night. She hadn't seen him yet, but it was like she could feel his presence, suffocating her almost as much as the thick air. It was the anticipation that gave her goosebumps, knowing that at some point, he would have to make himself known.

"Princess! Funny catching you here." The deep voice came from her right side. Lennox cursed, closing her eyes briefly to collect herself. She should have known, speak of the Devil and he will appear. Lennox groaned and turned, narrowing her eyes at none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Fuck off, Rafe." He moved closer, towering over her with a much larger frame than when she left. Her heart rate stuttered as she looked up at him. He was wearing a white polo shirt and shorts, his hair was buzzed, and he was smiling at her wolfishly.

"Can't talk to me like that anymore, Princess. Haven't you heard? I'm crazy." He moved his finger in a circle by his head and rolled his eyes with a smirk, taking a sip from the solo cup in his hand. Lennox actually had heard of his behavior recently. It was one of the many things that worried her about Topper hanging out with him.

"I can talk to you however I want. You're all bark." Rafe snickered and looked away briefly before suddenly pushing up against her. The breath left her lungs as she felt his toned chest pressed to hers. His cologne filled her nose—clean and woody.

What was he doing?

His head lowered to her height, breath tickling her ear.

"That's what you think," he whispered, sending shivers down her spine. He gave her a once over before pushing off the wall, finally drifting back into the crowd. The interaction left her feeling exposed and alone, suddenly aware of every part of her body. He had always had a way of doing that to her–catching her off guard.

Lennox had disliked Rafe for as long as she could remember. There was no specific incident, not really, but she hated the way he treated people.

Nobody really remembered, but it was Rafe who started all the hatred between the Kooks and the Pogues. Sure, there had always been some tension, but it rarely ever went farther than some choice words. She remembered how he'd gone home the summer after fifth grade, a perfectly nice kid, but when he came back he had changed completely. He started influencing others to follow him, picking fights with kids from The Cut. Everyone listened to him because of his name. Lennox never bought into all that bullshit, and she'd always been better friends with the Pogues anyhow. That's when her beef with Rafe started, and she clearly still held a grudge.

Knowing her position had been compromised, Lennox decided to move outside, finding an unoccupied bench by the pool house. The humid air did nothing to help the stickiness of her skin, but she relished the faint breeze. Lennox's head fell to her hands, the alcohol flowing from her feet to her fingertips.

"Rough night?" a deep voice called from a few feet away. Lennox forced herself to look up, seeing a silhouette backlit in the yard. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Whoever it was, they were walking closer.

"Uh, you could say that I guess." The mystery guy sat down on the bench, and Lennox straightened, suddenly much more aware.

"You don't remember me?" She nervously racked her brain, trying to place the voice; it was only when they locked eyes a breath of relief escaped her.

"Oh my God, little Rutledge, what're you doing here?" John B smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

"We're kind of crashing; Kie's parents made her come." Lennox laughed, of course they were. She marvelled at how grown he looked––a little worn, sure, but he looked good.

John B and the others held a special place in her heart. She was four years older than the group, but she babysat Pope when he was younger, and the rest fell in line. Of course, Sarah, she grew up with. She just couldn't believe they were all adults now.

"What're you up to now, any more treasure hunts planned?" John B laughed, a deep rumbling laugh she'd have to get used to. Topper had filled her in on a lot of the OBX drama via phone call while she was away, but she still had a hard time believing it.

"Definitely not. You didn't hear? I'm going to be a father." Lennox gasped, her eyes widening. John B, a dad? Was he not still a teenager?

"Oh wow, congratulations...who else knows?"

"Pretty much everyone. The group found out on our last...adventure," he shot her a look. "and Rafe was surprisingly cool." Lennox rolled her eyes at the mention of Sarah's brother. John B noticed immediately, snickering. "Still have it in for him, huh?"

"He's a dick. I don't like dicks." John B cackled. "You know what I mean!" she shouted before dissolving into her own fit of giggles.

"Well, that's no reason to isolate yourself from the party. Come hang with us, I know JJ would love to see you." He made kissy noises and dragged her to her feet.

"Oh please, I'm sure he's over his school girl crush by now."

"He is, him and Kie are going strong, actually." She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"Unexpected, but hell yeah." They both head back inside, into the living room where the Pogues were occupying the sofas.

"Lenny?" JJ called, jumping up from where he was sitting. The other heads snapped in her direction, while she stood and awkwardly waved.

"The prodigal daughter returns!" JJ shouted, running over quickly to wrap her in a bear hug. She grunted in surprise at the force, but wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey, JJ, I missed you," she smiled from ear to ear. As he stepped back, Lennox noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. She glanced over to Kie who just rolled her eyes.

"JJ, get back over here," she shouted, but there was no anger in her tone, only fondness.

Lennox chuckled and took a seat next to Pope.

"Hey kid, how've you been?" Pope playfully rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for their not-so-secret handshake.

"Not a kid anymore, Lenny."

"Yeah yeah, sure P," she said, noticing an unfamiliar face on his other side. She had long braids and a lost look on her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't think we've met!" she said, offering her hand. The girl shook it, smiling at her politely.

"I'm Cleo, nice to meet you." She had an accent, but Lennox couldn't place it.

"Nice to meet you too! How'd you get stuck with these goofballs?" Cleo looked down at her lap, chuckling softly.

"Saved their asses a few times." There were protests throughout the group, everyone starting to argue about who actually saved who. Lennox watched, laughing along with them.

"It's good to see y'all again, been too long," She said after everyone had gone quiet.

"What brings you back?" Kie asked, leaning against JJ. He tucked her into his side, kissing the top of her head. Lennox hesitated with her answer, not sure how to.

"Well, I graduated, so I'm officially ready to start taking over Dad's company." That had been the plan since she was an infant. Go to college, major in business, then integrate herself into Thornton Real Estate. Topper was meant to go to medical school, like their mother.

"That's awesome Len, are you excited?" Sarah asked, leaning forward to grab her hand. She was already glowing, and Lennox felt a burst of happiness for her friend.

"Yeah, of course!" she nodded, squeezing her friend's hand. Who wouldn't be, right?

The night progressed with endless chatter and the occasional drinking game, leaving Lennox very intoxicated and very happy. She had just finished telling each individual around her how much she loved them when her brother made his entrance.

"Lennox, what're you doing hanging out with the trash?" She rolled her eyes. Stupid Figure Eight boys and their stupid rivalry.

"Dude, just go back to the party," John B said, looking over Topper's shit already. She silently wondered everything that had gone down between them, knowing she didn't hear the full story from her brother.

"Why? 'Cause you said so? Nah, I'll pass." Lennox saw his eyes drift over to Sarah, a look of sadness in his eyes. But as soon as she noticed, it was gone, replaced by a cruel smirk.

Before John B could reply, she interjected. "Top, please. Not tonight. You're quite literally killing my buzz." Topper gave her a look, one she didn't catch due to her head spinning.

Despite her drunken state, she still saw Rafe lurking behind him and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I'm headed home anyway, let's go." Topper responded, clearly annoyed and obviously more drunk than she was.

"Absolutely not, neither of us can drive," she looked around quickly, trying to find anyone sober. All the Pogues had a beer in their hand except for Sarah, and she wasn't about to drag her away.

"I'll give you a ride, Princess." He was smug, arms crossed as he peered down at her.

"No," she spit, refusing to even look in Rafe's direction.

"Nobody else here is sober. I'm driving you home." Lennox opened her mouth to argue, but he was already walking away, dragging Topper behind him. She threw her hands up and stomped after them, throwing a quick goodbye over her shoulder.

"Rafe!" She called, trying to catch up. She must have screamed his name throughout the entire house before he finally turned around outside.

"Lennox. Will you stop being so goddamn stubborn for once in your life and get in the car?" Rafe said through gritted teeth. His jaw was set as he supported Topper's entire weight on his left side. Someone clearly decided to pass out as soon as he got outside. She huffed, but did as she was told, sliding into the passenger seat of his black Jeep. He wrestled Topper into the back, giving him a random takeout bag to hold onto, and jumped in the driver's side.

"I didn't think that would actually work," he said in disbelief, glancing at her. He shuffled some things around before twisting the key in the ignition.

"I'm nicer when I'm drunk. Listen better." She was starting to lose some of her cognitive thinking, because certainly she had not gotten in a vehicle with Rafe Cameron at the wheel. He gave her a once over before putting the car in drive and carefully exiting the neighborhood.

He was being nice. Well maybe not nice, but considerate, driving her drunk ass home.

No, Lennox, he is a bad person. He's doing this for Top, not you. He is an asshole.

She chanted those words inside her head, over and over, needing the reminder. Suddenly all thoughts of Rafe and his past transgressions started to flood her brain.

That time he humiliated JJ on the beach, bringing up his father and the new bruises JJ was sporting. How he used to pick on Topper, and now ropes him into all sorts of dangerous things. Every argument they had, every time he called her "Princess", it all bubbled up under her skin.

"You going to stop staring a hole into my head?" Rafe quipped.

"You are such an asshole," she narrowed her eyes, turning to face him.

"Why, for driving you home? I'm pretty sure that's the opposite of asshole territory."

"Not now, although I'm sure there's some ulterior motive, I'm talking about always." Rafe's jaw ticked and he shifted in his seat.

"You know what your problem is?" she slurred, her voice thick.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Lennox let out a sharp laugh, her head falling back against the seat. "You don't care about anyone. Like, at all. Not a single damn person." Rafe snorted, his gaze locked on the road.

"Is this supposed to be some drunken therapy session? If so, I'm not interested, Princess."

"No seriously," she sat up straighter, her words spilling out faster than she could think. "You think you're untouchable, so above everyone else, but you're not. You're miserable, and you make everyone else around you miserable."

"What the fuck did I do this time?"

"What haven't you done? You torment those poor kids! John B, JJ, Pope...even Kie! And for what?" Rafe scoffed, shaking his head.

"They're no saints, either. Maybanks held a fucking gun to your brother's head! You don't even know them." She didn't know about that; conveniently Topper left that out of their weekly phone calls.

"I don't have to know them," she shot back. "I see the way you treat people. The way all the Kooks treat people. They're just trying to survive on this shitty island, and you torture them for it! You're telling me you really had to almost beat Pope to death over a fucking boat?" Rafe looked surprised. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you? What is wrong with you?" Lennox was on a roll now, furious at the man beside her.

Rafe's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a word. She kept going, her words tumbling out in a drunken blur.

"You drag Topper into your shit every single chance you get. He's supposed to be going to med school, not fucking around and taking the fall for you. And you don't even care what it's doing to him—or anyone."

"Alright Lennox, that's enough. You don't know what you're talking about," he growled, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. They swerve a bit, but he quickly corrects it. "You've been gone a long time, don't act like you know shit."

"Oh, don't I?" she shot back, her voice breaking slightly. "I've watched you ruin people, Rafe. You're reckless and selfish and cruel. You don't care about what it does to Topper, or Sarah, or—God, anyone who's stupid enough to get close to you." Her voice trailed off, and she turned to look out of the window. A flicker of regret flashed across his face.

"You're a black hole, Rafe. You suck the life out of everyone around you." Her breath fogged up the glass.

The car fell into silence, save for the low rumble of the engine. Rafe didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Or maybe he just didn't care.

Lennox let out a humorless laugh, leaning her head back against the window. "You know what? Forget it. I don't even know why I'm wasting my breath. Why do I even bother?" She crossed her arms and ignored him for the rest of the ride.

When they did arrive, she let him deal with Topper, immediately making a beeline for her room. She flopped on her bed, not bothering to undress and drifted off to sleep, leaving the most infuriating man she'd ever met behind.

[angstigone]

I am finally feeling like aki having power and denji as roommates.

[ghostsprincess]

I can't stop thinking about Ghost being a better boyfriend than your ex, even without establishing that title....

This is a continuation of part one.

warning: mention domestic abuse

💀

Simon was there every night you worked. You never gave him your schedule, but he'd show up and settle onto one of the stools like clockwork. Soap often joined him, and while they carried on like always, you knew Simon's gaze lingered on your body. You could practically feel the weight as you took drink orders and pulled pints. It wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it made everything easier knowing you weren't alone if your ex dared show his face.

When your shifts ended, Simon would walk you back to your new place. The one time you insisted he didn't need to do that, he grunted and said, "What if I want to?"

You didn't mention it again. Instead you got into a routine of giving him a fifteen minute warning when your shift was going to end, and you'd head out into the cold night with him at your side. He was mostly quiet while you chatted about whatever was on your mind. When you'd ask him about himself, he'd reroute the conversation back to you. Then he would wait while you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

You always had the urge to invite him in, but you were taking up so much of his time already. And what would you do with him anyway? This hulking military man with kind eyes? 

You thanked him and gave him a little wave before ducking inside, and you knew he always waited until he heard the sound of your door locking before he left. 

"Y' alright, love?" he asked one night when you were starting to feel particularly good about yourself again. Your split lip had healed which required less makeup. You felt stronger for having left your ex in the dust. You were wearing a new top that made you feel sexy.

"Yeah. I'm alright, Simon. I feel really good, actually."

You served him a drink and refused to let him pay. You really ought to make him stop tipping you at this rate. He was doing so much for you and getting nothing in return. He was doing all of the boyfriend duties just as he had promised, but he never so much as touched you other than the occasional hand hold.

What if you wanted more?

He broke into your thoughts as he said, "I can tell. Ya' been smiling more. Almost ready to go?"

Tonight you felt like you were floating along the dirty sidewalk with your hand tucked in Simon's massive paw. He was keeping you warm without doing anything, and he listened to your nervous rambling as you tried your best to work up your courage. But the two of you reached your front door all too quickly.

"Get inside," he said, voice deep and tender in spite of the command. "An' lock up."

When he started to pull his hand away, you didn't let him. And you didn't budge when one of his eyebrows inched higher. "Not quite yet," you whispered, toe tapping the cement step you were standing on which put you slightly closer to him in height. "I have to tell you something."

Simon's lips pressed together in a tight line, and his chin dipped in a slight nod. "I need to tell ya' something, too. Just don't want to."

"What?" you asked immediately, the lightness you'd been feeling instantly replaced with a lead brick inside you.

"I'm leaving. Late tomorrow night. Not until after I make sure ya' get home from the pub."

"Leaving?" you whispered, heart pounding faster. He was in the military. Some sort of special mission involvement. You knew that much. And you could read between the lines to know that someone who looked and behaved like he did was probably about to risk his life, not for the first time. "Simon, where are you going?" you asked with tears in your eyes even though you figured he wouldn't be able to tell you.

Simon shook his head, his lips curling into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and it made you dizzy. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be worried 'bout me." You wanted to tell him you would be. You'd worry nonstop until you saw him again. You'd come to rely on him, but mostly you liked how you felt when he was around. "There'll be someone to walk ya' home from work every night. I can promise that."

You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but instead you threw your arms around his neck. He was so solid and warm, and the scrape of his facial hair on your cheek was somehow comforting. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you asked, voice breaking on a sob.

"I'll see ya' tomorrow, love."

He didn't move an inch as you extracted yourself, and the sound of his receding footsteps could only be heard once you'd locked yourself inside.

💀

Part three

[lovebugism]

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so. 

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play. 

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door. 

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure. 

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe. 

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

[wildwestdean]

impetus

summary: dean gets targeted by a witch while working a case, and she curses him to yearn for what he secretly loves the most. it seems to have no effect, until it's pointed out that he can't seem to stay away from you - but what happens when he tries to fight it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 9.4k+

warnings: violence, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, gore, evil witches, reader and dean get attacked, swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, yearning, mutual pining, idiots oblivious to their own feelings, magical curses, hallucinations, nightmares, depictions of death, depictions of drowning, fighting/arguments, heart-to-heart, confessions, use of [y/n], nicknames, mature themes

“Right, well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Dean declared, rolling Baby to a stop before switching into park. 

You both sat quietly as you surveyed the desolate building, a feeling of unease washing over you. 

“Maybe we should wait for Sam,” you suggested half heartedly. He was only down at the Sheriff’s station, and it wouldn’t even take ten minutes for him to meet you here, but you knew Dean wouldn’t wait. 

“No,” he said, confirming what you already knew. “Someone else is missing and this is our best lead so far. If you don’t want to go in, that's fine, but I am.” 

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” you snapped, sitting up as tall as you could despite the pit forming in your stomach. 

“Awe, you worried about me, sweetheart?” Dean teased, turning to look at you with a grin; one that was effectively wiped from his face when he saw the look in your eyes. “Hey, what is it?” 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, shrugging lightly. “I just have a bad feeling about this.” 

“Bad feeling like what?” he questioned, his brows knitting together. 

You thought about it, trying to pinpoint what it was you felt, but you couldn’t. “Just…. don’t go wandering off,” you ended up saying- begging, more like. 

“Alright,” he agreed easily. “We stick together, and we’ll be in and out before you know it.” 

“Right,” you confirmed with a nod. “Let’s gear up.” 

You exited the car as quietly as you could, making your way around to the back as Dean unlocked the trunk and propped up the panel to the arsenal.

“You and Sam better be right about this,” he muttered, digging out the box of witch-killing bullets. 

Your mind raced through the details of the case: An exsanguinated priest, a dead nun with her tongue ripped out, the president of the high schools abstinence club found without a heart, and various livestock missing various body parts - if this wasn’t a witch, you were a little scared to find out what else it could be. 

“We have to be,” you breathed out, loading your ammo. 

“Can you do me a favour and sound at least a little confident?” he asked playfully, lightly nudging your arm with his own before tucking his gun into his jeans. 

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, holstering your own gun. 

“It’s alright,” he said earnestly, handing you your favourite knife (one that used to be his before you claimed it as your own). “I’m just not used to seeing you so spooked.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as you took the knife from him. “I’m not used to feeling spooked.” 

“We’ll make it through,” he consoled, closing up the trunk. “Just like we always do.” 

“Just like we always do,” you echoed with a nod, following him towards the building. 

The overgrowth brushed your calves as you made your way up the walk, and after a quick survey of the facade, Dean swung the door open after picking the lock. 

“Wait!” you hissed, stopping him before he entered. “Sam does know we’re here, right?” 

You watched as his shoulders shrugged before stepping inside. “Probably.” 

“That’s… comforting,” you sighed, following him across the threshold. 

The two of you did a quick preliminary sweep of the main level before making your way to the top floor, finding nothing of significance in any of the rooms. Making your way back down, you both stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a clatter come from beneath you. 

“Of course there’s a basement,” Dean whispered. “Why wouldn’t the creepy ass witch be in the creepy ass basement of this creepy ass house?” 

“How do you know she’s a creepy ass witch?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe she’s hot. Or a guy. Or both.” 

He faltered over his response, considering your words for a moment. “I’ll bet whatever tab you drink up at the bar once we end up ganking this bitch. She’s creepy.” 

“Deal,” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

You both chuckled, before another noise from the basement drew your attention back to the case at hand. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat before leading the way in search of the basement entrance, using the occasional noise as guidance. 

“God, I hate witches,” he muttered to himself, slapping away cobwebs as he descended the stairs. 

“I don’t think the witch put those webs there,” you said with a snicker. 

“No, they’re just the one turning this rotting corpse of a house into a lair of evil and despair,” he hissed. 

You rolled your eyes in response, unable to stop the fond smile from creeping onto your face as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

A muffled cry caught your attention, and Dean spared you a quick look before running in the direction it came from, you hot on his heels. Coming up on a corner, he slowed to a halt and peered around the wall. 

“It looks clear,” he decided after a moment. “Just be careful,” he added, continuing on his way. 

Upon turning the corner, you were enveloped in the warm glow of candles, which would have been nice, had it not been for the rest of the scene. An altar lay at the far wall, burning candelabras stood in each corner of the room, and the very person you were searching for was bound and gagged in a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a circle of candles. 

Dean cursed and muttered under his breath, surveying the room. “I’ll get him, you get the altar.“

“Okay,” you agreed, running across the room. Once you reached the altar, you couldn’t help but stare in shock and disgust for a moment as you took in the sight; all the missing body parts seemingly staring back at you from where they lay soaked in blood. It took Dean shouting your name from across the room to bring you back to your senses, and you quickly upturned the altar as Dean instructed the now freed man to get out as fast as possible and wait by the car. As soon as the contents of the altar were scattered, an ear piercing shriek came from behind you. 

Quickly whirling on your heels, you were greeted by a cloaked figure, who seemingly came out of nowhere. 

“What have you done?” she screamed, dropping her hood as she stared daggers into you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned innocence. “Did I ruin your big plan?”

“You ruined everything!” she shrieked, slowly approaching you. “You’ll pay for this!” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Dean called out from behind her. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?! How many centuries passed by until the circumstances were right? I had it! I had it all! I was one spell away from seeing my love again!” she continued to scream, advancing further towards you as she ignored Dean.

“Back off, Grunhilda!” Dean roared from behind her, drawing his gun. 

“No!” she shrieked, barely lifting her hand in order to easily swing his gun away - and stop you from drawing your own. “You stupid little gnat. You think you can just come in here and mess with things you don’t understand? You think you can take this from me?!” 

Her shouting was drowned out by the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your throat constricted, the air leaving your lungs and not returning. You felt your bones cracking beneath your skin as your feet left the floor, and you shared a look of terror with Dean before black began to cloud the edges of your vision. 

Without an effective weapon handy, Dean rushed the witch and tackled her to the floor, sending you crashing down. You met the concrete with a thud, and it knocked the rest of your senses out of you. You laid there for who knows how long, fighting off the waves of pain and nausea, willing yourself to move as you listened to the struggle happening a few feet away from you. 

By the time you managed to prop yourself up, Dean was pinned down as she advanced on him, and you desperately looked around for either of your guns. 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you heard her ask, menace laced deep in her words. “To want something so desperately, to feel that desire within your very soul?!” 

Dean struggled against her hold as you struggled to pick yourself up, to at least crawl to a weapon if you had to.

“Well you will,” she sneered, cackling to herself. “You’ll know how it feels. To have what you want the very most to be so close to you, to have it at the edge of your fingertips, only to never be able to grasp it! For it to be the only thing you can think about!”

“Shut the hell up,” Dean seethed through clenched teeth, glaring at her. 

She only stepped closer towards him, cackling to herself. “Your strongest yearning, hidden deep in your heart, will nevermore be yours to part. Be it with sun or with rain, that which brings joy won’t be without pain.” 

“You finished yet?” Dean interrupted, before he had the wind knocked out of him, rendering him silent. 

Moving as quickly as you could without being noticed, you closed in on Dean’s pistol while the witch carried on. 

“Whatever you crave you cannot say, yet you’ll seek it out be it night or day,” she continued, hovering over him. “Consider yourself lucky, you useless toad. I’ve had countless lifetimes yearning to see my love again, and I’ll spend lifetimes more. At least you only have this one measly little life to yearn for what you want.” 

Grasping the gun in your hands, you carefully rose to your feet and steadied yourself to take aim. “Man, you really do talk too much,” you huffed out.

The shot rang out just as she turned towards you, though it was silenced by a roaring wind that accompanied a bright blue light. Within seconds, everything was calm and quiet again.

Fighting every urge you had to collapse back onto the floor, you trudged your way over to Dean in an attempt to help him up. 

“God, I told you she’d be creepy,” he gasped out, groaning as he stood. 

“You want a prize?” you asked incredulously, staring up at him. 

“I wanna get the hell out of here,” he said, ushering you to take leave. “Then I want those drinks you owe me.” 

After what felt like another entire day, you and Dean had dropped the victim off at the hospital, patched each other up, cleaned out the basement, showered, and filled Sam in on everything that went down. 

“So… she cursed you?” Sam asked curiously, trying to understand. 

“I dunno. She tried to, I guess,” Dean replied nonchalantly. “But [Y/N/N] put a bullet in her. No witch, no curse, right?” 

Sam shared a brief look with you, before turning back to Dean. “Yeah, but… there was no body.” 

“What?” Dean asked gruffly. 

“The witch,” you said. “I shot, but she vanished. What if she isn’t dead?” 

“Well, I feel normal, so I’m gonna say she’s dead,” Dean declared with a shrug. “Now, can we head to the bar? I’m in desperate need of a drink… or twelve.” 

Without waiting for an answer, he quickly stood and donned his jacket before looking back at you and Sam. “You guys coming or what?” 

“Oh, do I have a choice to not go?” you asked playfully.

“You can stay if you want, but your wallet comes with me,” he replied, smiling innocently. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you said with a dramatic sigh, grabbing your own jacket. 

Not long after, the three of you were sliding into a booth in the nearest dive, enjoying the lack of people; you guys seriously needed to decompress. 

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you declared, hopping out of the booth to get the first round of drinks. 

“Make sure you get a tab started!” Dean jokingly called after you. 

You flipped him off in response, taking a seat at the bar after placing your order. While you waited, Sam watched as Dean grew more restless in his seat. 

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” he finally asked, eyeing Dean as he fidgeted anxiously. 

“What?” Dean asked cluelessly, glancing around the bar. “I’m thirsty. She’s been gone for what, like, half an hour?” 

“It’s… barely been two minutes, Dean,” Sam informed him with an amused grin.  

“Yeah, well. I want my beer,” Dean mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table as he glanced around once more. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help.”

Before Sam could even reply, Dean was already halfway across the bar, meeting you just as you got your final drink. 

“Need a hand?” Dean asked cheerfully, his sudden appearance making you jump. “Sorry,” he added with a snicker. 

“Dick,” you muttered with a laugh, hopping down from the stool. “Here you go,” you added, handing him his beer.

“Awesome,” he beamed, taking the bottle from your outstretched hand. 

He followed closely as you made your way back to the table, handing Sam his drink before sliding into the booth; Dean followed suit, leaving you nestled in between him and the wall. 

The three of you had a few more rounds before Dean slipped away, determined to teach a lesson to the arrogant ass harassing players around the pool tables - just because you didn’t need to hustle people anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t still fun every now and then. You watched him fondly, laughing quietly to yourself as you watched him fumble around with his cue before making a terrible break. Harder than it looks, you could just hear him say. 

Your attention was turned back to Sam when he cleared his throat, and you were met with his questioning gaze. “Does he seem weird to you?” 

“Weird how?” you asked, face scrunched in confusion. 

“I don’t know, strange,” he replied with a small shrug. “Like- like antsy or something.” 

Your eyes flit back across the room to Dean, who was very much in his element as he upped his ante, before focusing on Sam again. “I haven’t noticed anything, Sammy.” 

He sighed in resignation, seeming to already know that would be your response. “It’s probably nothing, just forget I said anything,” he replied, shaking his head dismissively before finishing his drink. 

“If you say so,” you muttered quietly, sipping your drink as you cast a worried gaze across the bar, getting lost in thought.

By the time you each finished another round of drinks, Dean made his way back over to the table; much to the surprise of you and Sam. 

“Done so soon?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow at his brother. 

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, sliding back into the seat beside you.

“But you only played one round,” you said quizzically. 

“So?” Dean wondered, gulping down the rest of his beer. 

“So, you usually play a lot more than that,” Sam pitched in, shifting his gaze between you and Dean. 

Dean sighed, his bottle clanging on the table as he set it back down. “Why am I getting the third degree here? I played a game, he learned his lesson, I got over it. End of story.”

“Okay, grouchy,” you snickered, ruffling his hair a little just because you knew he hated it. Except he really did love it when it was you doing it.

“Whatever, anyone want another round?” he asked with a huff, lightly swatting your hand away. 

“No, I’m gonna call it a night,” you admitted, shifting to slip your jacket back on. 

“Yeah, me too,” Sam declared, starting to stand from the table. 

Dean stood as well, assumingly just to let you out. “Alright, let’s go.”

You and Sam both stilled in your movements at his response, sharing a shocked look with each other. “You’re… coming with us?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked with a scoff, shrugging his jacket on as he looked questioningly between you and Sam. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“We just didn’t expect you to call it a night so early,” Sam explained helplessly. “Gettin’ old, huh?” he added, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

“Yeah, I mean, you barely even wracked up a tab!” you declared with a laugh, before grinning mischievously. “Drinks just don’t agree with you anymore, do they, old man?”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, fixing his collar just to busy his hands. “Okay, alright, one more wisecrack and I’m leaving you both here.” 

Despite the finality in his tone, the amusement dancing in his eyes gave him away - as did the hand he extended to you to help you slide from the booth. 

“Whatever you say, grandpa,” Sam teased, patting Dean on the shoulder before walking away with laughter in his wake. “I’ll be outside!”

You chuckled in response, and the stern look Dean gave you only made you laugh even more. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, chuckles,” he chided, wiggling his fingers at you. He surveyed the bar as you finally took hold of his hand, sliding out from your seat with ease and standing before him. “Ready?” he asked, gaze turning back to look down at you. 

“Yeah, I just gotta go pay,” you replied, nodding your head in the direction of the bar counter. 

“Alright,” he said with a nod. He gave your hand a squeeze, though instead of letting go like he normally would, he held it firmly as he led the way across the bar. 

You followed along quietly, trying your hardest to not read too much into it. Though when you stood before the bar and he had yet to release your hand, you gave him a puzzled look. “Did you wanna go get the car?” you asked hesitantly. 

He looked confused for a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either, before he cleared his throat with a curt nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll meet you out there. Don’t take too long,” he rushed, giving your hand another fleeting squeeze before shuffling away. 

Strange, you thought briefly, before shifting your attention to the bartender before you. 

As you paid the tab, Dean settled into the driver's seat of Baby, and Sam watched him impatiently drum his fingers against the wheel as he hummed along to whatever song was in his head; and he couldn’t help but snort a laugh as Dean checked his watch one, two, three times since getting into the car. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Sam chided with a laugh, shaking his head. 

“What?” Dean inquired, annoyance clear in his voice. 

“Dude, please tell me you see what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. 

Dean widened his eyes in confusion, glancing around the near empty parking lot before looking back at his brother. “What’s going on?” 

Before Sam could reply, their attention was caught by the opening of the bar’s door when you emerged from the building, a grin forming on your face as you caught sight of them waiting in the car. 

Dean matched your grin, quickly reaching for the door handle and scrambling outside. “There she is!” he greeted happily, opening the back door for you. 

“Fucking idiot,” Sam muttered to himself, staring out the window with an amused grin as you and Dean settled into your seats. 

The three of you made it back in no time, and, having to settle for a single bed when first getting to town over driving for another who-knows-how-long just to find another motel, shuffled out of the car and into your shared room with heavy feet.

“Finally,” Dean muttered with relief, shutting the door behind him as Sam took a seat. “Whoa, whoa,” Dean barked, holding up a hand. “What’re you doing?” 

Sam froze just as he sat on the bed, staring up at his brother. “What?” 

“That’s my bed,” Dean declared with a huff. 

“No, it’s not,” Sam answered with a scoff. “It’s your turn for the couch.” 

“Dude, I’m not sleeping on the pull-out!” Dean declared with finality.

“What, are you kidding me?” Sam asked incredulously. “You got the bed last time!” 

“Yeah, and I just got ragdolled by a crazy ass witch, I deserve a mattress!” Dean argued, stepping towards the bed. “Get up.” 

“No,” Sam argued stubbornly, relaxing further atop the sheets. 

“You guys are ridiculous,” you said with an exasperated sigh, walking across the room. “I’ll take the couch.” 

“Not a chance,” Dean denied, not even sparing you a glance. 

“What, why?” you asked in confusion. 

“First of all, I’m not sharing with Sam,” Dean replied, turning to look at you. “Second, you got it worse than I did. I’m not shoving you on a pull-out.” 

“Oh, please-” you started to argue, before he cut you off. 

“I patched you up myself, [Y/N]. Don’t bother trying to lie to me,” he cautioned. 

You opened your mouth to argue once more, but the look on his face stopped you short. “Whatever,” you mumbled, turning towards the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed. Figure this out before I get back so I can actually go to bed, please.” 

The bickering resumed as you quickly retreated, shutting the bathroom door on Dean’s disgruntled declaration of “best two out of three.”

By the time you re-entered the room, you were met with silence. Surveying the surroundings, you found Sam digging through his toiletries bag while sitting in his original spot on the bed. Your gaze snapped over to the couch, where Dean sat looking like a kicked puppy. 

“You went with scissors again, didn’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He met your gaze as Sam snickered behind you, causing his face to sour even more. “Shut up,” he mumbled before standing, bristling past you with slumped shoulders. 

You chuckled quietly to yourself and grabbed the spare sheets, quickly making up the pull-out for Dean while he got ready; hopefully he’d be a little less cranky about it all if this was at least already done. 

Once finished, you made your way over to the bed and curled up under the covers. After saying a quick goodnight to Sam, you were asleep before Dean even left the bathroom. 

Fear gnawed at Dean, his body frozen in place as a cold spread through him, panic clinging to him like ice. He tried to call out to you, but all that left him was a strangled breath as his lungs seized up. He watched as the waves carried you away, further and further from where he stood. By the time his legs finally moved to carry him closer to shore, his feet were so heavy it was as though he was wading through quicksand. 

“No, no, no,” he pleaded quietly, watching as the waters edge never grew near no matter how far he ran. 

Your voice cried out to him, surging him forward even faster as you drifted ever outwards, terror seeping deeper into his bones with every futile step he took.

He couldn’t reach you. 

He couldn’t save you. 

The realisation that you were gone caused his world to come crashing down around him as he fell to his knees. A roaring filled his ears, and he didn’t know whether it was the irascible water that held you captive or the blood racing from his pounding heart. 

As he stayed there - watching the crashing waves for any sign of you, listening for a call of his name, unwilling to move for fear he’d miss you - the water suddenly crept up around him, as if to mock him. 

The sky darkened as he let out an anguished cry, his voice blending in with the storm beginning to brew around him. Yet despite the deafening howls, he heard it clear as day: your voice, calling out to him.  

“Dean.”

The world stilled around him once more, your voice ringing out in a whisper as gentle as the wind. 

“Dean.” 

He stood, frantically searching the horizon for you. He tried to call out, yet his voice still never came. 

“Dean!” you called out, voice booming like thunder from above. 

A small hand gripped his own, pulling him so forcefully he was yanked off his feet. He let out a startled cry, a spark of lightning igniting so brightly before him that he screwed his eyes shut. 

“God dammit, Dean!” 

Another force shook him, and when we reopened his eyes, he was met with the suspiciously stained ceiling of the motel room. He bolted upright, heart hammering against his chest as he looked around. He caught your worried gaze as he wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to steady his breathing as you leaned in closer. 

“[Y/N?]” he gasped out, pushing himself further upright.

His hand reached out automatically, fingers tentatively brushing against your cheek as if to evaluate your solidity. When he was satisfied that you wouldn’t evaporate, he surged forward to wrap you in a desperate embrace; the icy grip of terror finally starting to melt. 

“It was just a nightmare, De,” you soothed quietly, tracing a hand along his back. “Everything’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he said tightly, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as he let you go. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m alright, get back to bed.” 

“You’re okay?” you questioned, concern laced in both your face and tone of voice. 

“I’m okay,” he affirmed with a nod, casting his gaze aside so you wouldn’t see the panic still swirling within him. 

“Okay,” you said softly, placing a gentle kiss upon the crown of his head before standing from the edge of the pull-out. 

Dean got up after you to grab a glass of water, his heart jumping in his chest as he remembered the sight of you being ripped away by the current. 

“Just a nightmare,” he reminded himself under his breath. “Just a nightmare.” 

Not having slept another wink after his nightmare, Dean was unsurprisingly the first one up the next morning. Taking it upon himself to get breakfast for the three of you, he found himself at the nearest diner waiting for his order. 

Drumming his fingers impatiently on the sticky linoleum counter, a burning desire to call you began to build within him. Knowing you were likely still sleeping, he decided to busy himself with a stupid game you downloaded on his phone. 

Yet the urge to reach out to you grew tenfold as he sat there, a sinking feeling that it might mean you were in danger starting to take hold of him. Just as his mind began to swirl with questions of what the hell was going on with him, he heard your voice calling his name. 

His head snapped up, expecting to see you sliding onto the stool beside him, ready to give you hell for walking here in search of him all by yourself in a random town. He figured you must’ve known he was here, and it wouldn’t have been a far walk from the motel, but it was still stupid.

Though the words died on his tongue as he realized you weren’t there, and that familiar feeling of dread trickled through him after scanning the diner and not finding you anywhere. 

Another voice called out, this time the waitress, announcing that his order was ready. He met her smiling face with nothing but confusion, her smile faltering for a moment.

“Everything alright?” she asked hesitantly.

“Huh?” he asked, before snapping out of his daze. “Oh, yeah. Just a little too early for me. Thanks-” he paused, squinting to read her name tag. “Thanks, Edna,” he charmed, flashing his signature grin as he gathered the order. 

“Anytime, sugar,” she charmed, her smile perking back up as she sent him a wink. 

With one last - albeit awkward - grin sent her way, Dean quickly left the diner; already feeling lighter for knowing he’d be back at the motel soon. His grin only grew when he glanced across the street and caught a glimpse of you staring back at him, proving that he wasn’t crazy and you really did come to meet him. 

He took a step forward, intending to call out to you, when a truck drove by and blocked you from sight. The grin was wiped from his face and the coffee tray nearly slipped out of his hand when he noticed you had completely disappeared in its wake. 

Fearing the worst once more, he scrambled into the car and quickly called you, firing Baby to life as the line rang. 

“Hey,” you answered with a stifled yawn. “Please tell me you’re getting breakfast. And coffee.” 

“Yeah, I-” he faltered in his response, having to let out a breath of relief as he realized you were safe and sound. “I’ll be back in a few, you and Sammy still there?” 

“Where else would we be?” you asked with a giggle. 

While the sound would normally bring a smile to his face, your words only caused a frown to appear. “You only waking up now?” 

“Don’t judge me,” you teased. “It’s only… ten after seven, I barely slept in.” 

“Just not used to being up before you,” he lied, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

“Miracles really do happen,” you joked with a laugh. “You sound weird, is everything okay?” you added, worry tinting your voice. 

“Hm?” he wondered, not processing your question right away. “Oh, no- yeah, I-... just didn’t get much sleep.”

“Right,” you said, teetering on the edge of believing him or not. 

“Really, I’m good,” he assured, sensing your apprehension. “I just gotta catch some z’s and I’ll be good as new.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then,” you relented. “Drive safe,” you added as an afterthought before hanging up.   

The line went dead as he stopped at a red light, his stomach churning as he stared at his reflection in the rearview.

“Just need some sleep,” he assured himself. 

“Dude, would you quit it with the pacing?” Sam snapped, setting his book down on the table for sheer lack of concentration. 

Dean stopped just long enough to stare daggers at his brother before marching down the library once more. “She’s been gone too long.” 

“She’s been gone an hour,” Sam informed, hands running over his face in exasperation. 

“Exactly,” Dean replied, pointing a finger at Sam in acknowledgment. “Something must’ve happened.” 

“Dude, she’s at the grocery store. With Jack. What the hell could possibly happen?” 

“I don’t know!” Dean exclaimed, arms flailing as he whirled to face Sam. “Something must’ve! She hasn’t answered my last text and it’s been-” he paused, pulling out his phone to brandish the screen. “Seven minutes!” 

“Oh, my god,” Sam groaned, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t deal with this anymore.” 

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you worried?” Dean asked gruffly. 

“No, Dean, I’m not worried! There’s no reason to be worried!” Sam proclaimed. 

“No reason? She could be dead!” Dean barked, his face taking on an expression of disbelief. 

Sam sighed as he leaned over the table, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let me ask you this: why, exactly, do you think she’s dead?” 

“Oh, come on, Sam!” Dean grumbled. “We don’t exactly live cookie cutter lives here, you know. One minute she’s returning the shopping cart, and the next she’s got a damn knife in her back!” 

“Dean,” Sam soothed. “You know as well as I do that’s a load of crap.” 

“No,” Dean argued, shaking his head. “We don’t know that. We don’t know anything, you know why?” 

Before Sam could even respond, Dean waved his phone around before dropping it on the table. “Because she won’t answer her damn phone!” 

“Okay, this is actually ridiculous,” Sam declared. “How can you seriously not see what’s been happening to you?” 

“Knock it off, Sam,” Dean muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he began pacing again. “I’m fucking fine.” 

“You’re fine,” Sam repeated incredulously. “You’re friggin’ cursed, Dean!” 

“I’m not cursed!” shouted Dean. “Would you quit it with that crap?” 

“Right, because nothing’s been going on with you lately, right?” 

“Right!” Dean agreed with a huff. 

“You haven’t been, say, I don’t know…. not sleeping? Feeling stir crazy? Getting paranoid?”

“Sam-” 

“No, I’m serious, Dean! How can you not see this?” 

“Because I’m fine!” Dean argued, stalling his movements to gather his phone from the table.

After a few moments of silence, Dean rolled his eyes and found himself once more walking the length of the library. “Okay, maybe I’ve been feeling a little weird lately, but I’ve just been tired - and you know what? I survived worse. So yeah, I’m fine!” 

“Right,” Sam said sceptically.  “And have you… noticed when it is that you feel… weird?”

“I don’t know!” Dean announced frustratedly.

“Dean,” Sam chastised. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been feeling like this all week, and it’s only getting worse. You’ve been like this since that witch cursed you - and don’t say she didn’t. Use your fucking head, Dean! You’re cursed!” 

Dean’s jaw clenched as he tried to remain calm, taking a moment to formulate his response. “You’re insane,” he finally declared. 

“I think you’re the insane one,” Sam contested. “You were cursed to yearn for something, Dean. Only in this case… it’s someone.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“C’mon, Dean!” Sam pleaded with a laugh. “The only time you get like this is when you’re more than ten feet away from [Y/N].” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean muttered dismissively. 

“You’ve checked your phone another five times since you picked it up.” 

“So?” Dean questioned, failing to resist the urge to check it once more. “I’m worried, not cursed.” 

“You’re worried because you’re cursed!” Sam argued. 

“I’m worried because I lo-” Dean quickly fell silent as the words died on his tongue, his brain firing into total overdrive as he laughed nervously. “I care, that’s why I’m worried.” 

Sam stared at his brother in total disbelief, trying to find a way to make him realize what was going on- or, most likely, acknowledge what was going on. 

Yet before the conversation could go any further, the bunker door screeched open and the sound of your laughter fleeted down to greet Dean, effectively turning his scowl into an affectionate grin. 

“Hope you remembered my pie!” he called out, marching to meet you at the foot of the stairs without so much as a glance back in Sam’s direction. 

“When have I ever forgotten?” you asked, feigning offence as you held out the bag which contained his pie.

“Well,” he started, taking the bag from you. “There was that time in Redford-”

“Hey!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I didn’t forget, they were out!”

“See, I still don’t believe you,” he teased, heading for the kitchen. 

“Believe whatever you want, Dean,” you replied playfully. 

“I’m still waiting for it, you know. You should get me two next time,” he joked, though he was partly serious. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice tentatively called out.

“Yeah?” Dean replied hotly, keeping his back to Sam as he went to grab a beer from the fridge. 

“Who, uh… who the hell are you talking to?” he asked carefully, surveying the empty kitchen. 

“Hilarious, Sam,” he said dryly, shutting the fridge. “I’m talking to-”

His mouth ran dry as he turned around, being met with just his brother, who was staring with concern from the doorway. 

“[Y/N],” Dean finished weakly. 

“Her and Jack aren’t back yet, Dean,” Sam said carefully, as though talking to a lost child. 

“Yes, they are. They got back, she gave me my pie, we came in here,” Dean said fiercely, his confidence shattering when he went to gesture at the pie he set down moments earlier and found it to be gone.  

“Maybe you should sit down,” Sam suggested, not knowing what to do. 

“I’m fine!” Dean shouted, hovering over the counter. “I’m fine,” he repeated, moreso to himself than anything. 

“Okay, look, how about I try calling [Y/N], okay?” Sam offered, hesitantly walking further into the kitchen. “See when they’ll be back.” 

“They are back!” Dean barked, glaring at Sam. “She was just in here!” 

Sam didn’t know what to say, the fear and concern for his brother crashing down on him. 

“She was just in here,” Dean repeated shakily, meeting Sam’s gaze with confusion. 

“Dean,” Sam started to say, before the familiar tone of your ringtone came from Dean’s phone, cutting through the air like a knife. 

Dean pulled the phone from his pocket, clearing his throat before answering. “Yeah?” 

“Dean, thank god,” you cheered, sighing in relief. “Listen, we came out to a flat tire and I don’t have a spare because I forgot to fucking replace it and there are too many people around for Jack to, you know, try fixing it,” you rambled anxiously. “Can you please come help?” 

“You’re still at the store?” Dean clarified, looking up at Sam with frightened eyes. 

“Yeah, we’re stuck in the parking lot,” you told him breezily. 

“Okay,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, De!” you said happily, ending the call. 

Dean stood there for a few moments staring down at his unopened bottle of beer on the counter, trying to gather his thoughts, before finally lifting his gaze to Sam.

“I’ll, uh…. I’ll be back,” he told him, not waiting for a response before trudging out of the kitchen.

You found yourself yet again rushing down the hall to Dean’s room, his muffled yells waking you in the dead of night once more. 

He uttered your name as you shut the door behind you, and though it took you by surprise the very first time it happened - nearly two weeks ago, now - it was something you’ve almost come to expect. It was killing you, watching him go through this every night and not being able to fix it. You would sit with him, find ways to gently rouse him from his terror filled slumber and comfort him when he woke, but it never seemed like enough; he deserved more.

At first you didn’t think there was too much going on, figuring his shift in behaviour was just due to his lack of sleep. You didn’t believe Sam when he talked to you about it; Dean may have been acting a little more strange than usual, but it didn’t raise any red flags.

It wasn’t until the morning following your conversation that you noticed it, cluing in and realising how different Dean had been; how long he’d been different. The excess text messages, the increase in phone calls, the insistence on you not going anywhere without him and his exuberant reactions to you getting back safe when you did go somewhere without him, his constant questioning on where you were or where you’ve just been. Something else was going on, and you could only think it really did come down to the witch you two encountered.  So you and Sam called up Rowena, getting her take on the situation and figuring out what to do. 

Her words now echoed through your head as you perched yourself on the edge of his bed: “Magic isn’t simple. Some curses are anchored by the witch, ending whenever they were to die. But others are more complex, rooted not in the witch but the object of the curse itself, not breaking until their purpose is carried out one way or another. Perhaps if you can figure out what it is Dean needs, you can break the curse yourselves. If this carries on for any longer… I’m worried it will kill him.” 

While you ran your fingers through his hair, you decided right then and there that once he woke up, you wouldn’t leave without confronting him about it. You knew it would likely start a fight, and you felt a little guilty knowing you would all but interrogate him right after having another nightmare, but all that guilt flew right out the window the second Dean startled himself awake, the sight of his panic stricken face as he gasped for air nearly bringing you to tears; you’ve seen him like this too often as of late. 

“It’s alright, Dean,” you soothed, reaching out to him. “I’m right here, everything’s fine.” 

His gaze snapped to you, unable to hide the confusion and terror still coursing through him despite the relief he felt. “[Y/N]?” 

“Yeah, De,” you cooed, running a hand across his shoulder blades. “We’re in your room, everyone’s okay.” 

He let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head in his hands. “You’re okay,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay.” 

You sat quietly with him for a few more minutes, patiently comforting him as best as you could while you thought of how to approach this conversation. 

Clearing his throat, Dean was the first to speak again as he rose from the bed. “Sorry I woke you again.” 

The dejection and shame laced in his voice tore your heart to bits, and you had to put up a good fight to keep your emotions in check. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

“Yeah, I do,” he disagreed, trudging to his sink in the corner. 

“Dean, please talk to me,” you pleaded, watching as he turned on the water. 

You fell silent, waiting for him to deny you and brush you off again. You waited for him to say something, to do something, but all he did was stare at the running water. 

“Dean?” you asked cautiously, slowly getting up from the bed yourself. 

“I can’t save you,” he muttered quietly, his gaze on the faucet unyielding. 

“What?” you asked curiously, not knowing what he meant. 

“I can never save you,” he carried on. “You always just… slip away from me. Every time. It’s always the same.” 

“What’s always the same?” you questioned, moving closer towards him. 

“I try,” he muttered, seemingly oblivious to your presence. “I run, and I fight, and I try, but I can never reach you. I can never get to you.”

He seemed to snap out of his daze a little, moving to splash water over his face before turning off the tap. “You keep dying. I keep watching you die. I can’t watch you die again, [Y/N]. I can’t.” 

“This is what your nightmares have been?” you wondered. 

He fell silent again for a minute before meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah.” 

“It’s not real, Dean,” you told him softly.

“It’s real enough for me,” he muttered, turning to face you. 

“And is this why you’ve been… acting differently towards me?” you asked hesitantly. 

He averted his gaze, hanging his head as he considered your question. “I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe, yeah. I don’t know.” 

“Dean,” you scolded with a sigh, plopping back down on the bed. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” 

“Because everything’s fine!” he argued once again. 

“I’m not stupid, Dean!” you challenged. “I know you. I can see something's eating you alive and it’s fucking killing me to witness it. So please, tell me what the hell is going on.” 

“It’s just nightmares,” he lied, crossing his arms against his chest. 

“It’s more than nightmares!” you cried. “You’re withering away into nothing, Dean! I mean let’s face it! You’re practically a zombie nowadays with how little sleep you get, you’ve been acting like a puppy with separation anxiety, and let’s not forget how completely erratic you’ve been.”

He glared at you, jaw clenching as he decided whether or not to entertain this conversation. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t slept lately,” he admitted starkly. “But like I keep saying, I’m fine.” 

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying?” you sneered, glaring up at him. 

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to anywhere else as he shook his head. “No, but I’m getting tired of having this conversation all the time.” 

“Well too bad!” you yelled, abruptly standing from the bed. “Cause I’m tired of never having this conversation go anywhere! I’m tired of you brushing off the idea of you being cursed. I didn’t believe it at first either, but what the hell else could it be, Dean?” 

“Oh, come on!” he barked, running a hand over his face. “I see Sam got his hooks into you.” 

“Yeah, he did. And you need to listen to us.” 

“No, I really don’t,” he scoffed, starting to head to the door. 

“Even if it kills you?” you blurted out. 

“It’s not gonna kill me!” 

“God, look at you, Dean! It already is!” you argued, marching closer to him. “How would you feel if the situation were reversed?” 

He let out a sigh, pausing with his hand on the doorknob before turning back to you. “What?” 

“What if it were me going through all this instead of you? Would you let me get away with not even listening to you and Sam?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, staring at you in silence for so long you expected him to turn away again. Instead, he let out a deep breath as he took a seat, gesturing for you to carry on. “Five minutes.” 

You almost went to argue before you thought better of it, knowing full well that if Dean never came around to the theory he would actually cut you off at the five minute mark. So, you did your best to recount the entire situation for him, reiterating what you, Sam, and Rowena had to say about it all in the hopes of getting through to him. By the time you finished, you knew it was well over five minutes, so you took Dean not interrupting you to be a good sign. 

“Okay,” he finally said with a small nod. “Well, I listened. Can I go now?” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach, anger and fear bubbling inside of you as you exploded. “God, you are unbelievable!”

“Well what do you want me to say?” he grumbled. “I just don’t believe that’s what’s going on.” 

“How can you not believe it?” you asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!” 

“Look, I said I don’t believe it, alright?” Dean snapped. “Why are you so hellbent on making this into some big fight? Just accept it.” 

“No!” you seethed. “I can’t just accept the fact that this could kill you. Especially not when there’s a way we could end this.” 

“No,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “You can’t fix this, [Y/N/N]. You just can’t.” 

“I can!” you cried. “Just tell me.” 

“Tell you what?” 

“You know what,” you scolded. 

“This is so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Tell me anyway.” 

“Why the hell do you care so much?” he questioned exasperatedly. 

“Because I’m fucking terrified, Dean!” you exclaimed. “I’ve watched you grow more restless and anxious every day since the night we finished that case. I’ve seen the life drain from you more and more as sleep became nearly impossible for you. And I know it’s nearly impossible for you, because I have spent the last eleven nights sitting on that bed as you got terrorised by your own mind. I don’t care if you believe in this curse or not, Dean, because I do.” 

Dean stood quietly, absorbing what you said as the severity of the situation began to dawn on him. 

“I mean don’t you get it?” you asked sadly, cutting through the silence. “If something happens to you, if I lose you… that’s not something I can come back from.” 

Dean fell silent once more, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, pacing around the room a little as he turned everything over in his head. 

“I’m scared, Dean,” you reiterated softly. “Please, just let us try to fix this.” 

“There’s some things I should tell you, then,” he admitted quietly after a moment of silence, taking a seat on the bed. 

“About what’s been happening?” you asked hopefully. 

He nodded, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” you said, moving his desk chair to take a seat. “I’m listening.” 

He took a bracing breath, taking a few minutes to build the courage to speak. “Well, you know I’ve been having nightmares.” 

“I do,” you agreed quietly. 

“It’s always the same one,” he admitted, keeping his gaze cast downwards. “I could never figure out why. It didn't make sense to me why it was always the same thing. So I finally talked to Sam about it, and he had a pretty good theory. But, you know me. I didn’t want to believe it because it came back down to that witch and this stupid fucking curse.” 

He let out a bitter laugh, pausing long enough for you to speak up. “What did he have to say about it?” 

“I tried telling myself I was fine,” he continued, ignoring your question. “I was fine, at first. At first it was just not sleeping well… but then other things started happening.” 

“Other things like what?” you wondered quietly. 

“Like my blood feeling like it’s on fucking fire,” he muttered, wiping at his face. “And my skin feeling like it-… like it’s being peeled off my goddamn bones, and my face feeling like it’s melting… and how I get this- this bubble inside my chest that feels like it’s either gonna burst or suffocate me and how it all only happens-” he stopped in his rambling, taking a deep breath before chuckling in disbelief. “God, it only happens when you’re not around, [Y/N].” 

“I-... what do you mean?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Oh, come on, [Y/N],” he said bitterly. “I know you’ve noticed. I text you more, I’m almost always calling you. I just- I get this… this unwavering panic inside me when you’re not around. I keep-... I swear to god I see you everywhere when you’re gone. I catch sight of you across the street, I smell your stupid shampoo when I’m alone, I hear your voice when no one’s there. I had an entire conversation with you and you weren’t even there,” he carried on, shaking his head as he briskly wiped away an angry tear. “God, I’m going fucking crazy,” he added with a manic chuckle. 

“You’re not crazy, Dean,” you said gently. 

“That night,” he started, staring at the wall across from him. “She was trying to get back someone she lost… someone she loved.” 

“Right,” you agreed. 

“They used to drown them, people they accused of being witches,” he continued slowly. 

“Yeah, it was pretty common. Sink, and you were innocent. Float, and you were guilty,” you pitched in. “But… what does that have to do with this?”

“I think they were innocent,” he said simply. “Whoever she lost… I think that’s how she lost them.” 

“Why do you think that?” you asked curiously. 

Dean cleared his throat, staring pensively at his hands once more. “The nightmares. It’s always… you always drown. I keep-... I can never save you.” 

“I don’t get-” you started to say, before he cut you off. 

“It’s how she lost who she loves, [Y/N],” he said curtly. “It makes sense for me to see the one I love go the same way.” 

“I-... what?” you asked, too stunned to think of anything else to say. 

“The dreams, the hallucinations, the- the way I’ve been feeling… I didn’t want to admit it, I still don’t, but I can’t… I mean I can only ignore it for so long, right?” he said, scoffing quietly. “Especially with you and Sam breathing down my neck about it.” 

“Ignore what, Dean?” you asked breathlessly, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“You,” he muttered. “They way I feel about you. The way I’ve always felt about you.” 

You didn’t dare respond, his words ringing in your ears as he fell silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts for a while. 

“I’ve always known that I love you, [Y/N/N],” he carried on, slowly meeting your gaze with glistening eyes. “But this… this curse, this whatever it is. God, it’s just made it all so much worse, and I knew. I knew it was you that my entire being was screaming out for but I couldn’t… I couldn’t admit it.” 

“Why not?” you asked shakily, feeling your tears starting to build. 

“How could I put that on you?” he asked, a few rogue tears slipping down his face. “You said it yourself, this thing is killing me. It’s gonna kill me, unless I get what I want, and given that that’s you, I’m calling it game over.” 

“No, Dean, it’s not,” you denied with a sniffle, cutting through your own stray tears. “You should’ve told me.” 

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, shrugging lightly as he looked back at his hands. “I told you now.” 

“Dean,” you sighed, wiping your face as you stood from your seat. “Do you trust me?” you asked, walking towards him.

“Of course I do,” he said quickly, almost offended by the question. 

“Okay, well, I’ll need you to trust me on this,” you replied, stopping just in front of where he sat. 

“Okay,” he said with a huff. 

“You gotta look at me, though,” you said, laughing softly. 

Sighing dejectedly, he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips as he looked at you. 

You smiled softly at him, gently taking his face in your hands before wordlessly bringing your lips down to meet his. At first, neither of you really knew what was happening, and just when you thought to pull away you felt his lips moving against your own. His hands gripped your waist to hold you in place a moment longer before you each pulled away, staring silently at each other as you processed what just happened. 

“What, uh… what was that for?” Dean finally asked. 

“Well, it was either that or slapping some sense into you,” you said playfully. “Which I almost think you still deserve, because I can’t believe you honestly think I don’t love you back.” 

“What?” he asked, his grip on your waist loosening in shock before tightening once more. 

“You’ve had me since the day we met, Dean,” you told him softly, carding your fingers through his hair. 

“You actually…” he trailed off quietly, trying to focus his thoughts. “You actually love me, of all people?” 

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.” 

“So I- well, I guess I could’ve saved a lot of trouble if I really did just tell you, huh?” he asked jokingly, laughing tightly. 

“I’ll give you hell for it tomorrow,” you teased, half serious. “For now, how about we try getting you back to sleep?” 

“Actually,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a better idea involving this bed.” 

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh, grinning fondly at him. “Oh, really?” 

He grinned back, laughing with you before taking on a more sombre tone. “Do you trust me?” 

“Always,” you said honestly. 

“Good,” he replied with a grin, laughing heartily at the shriek you let out when he tossed you on the bed. 

He stared down at you, a look you’ve never seen before painted on his face. “What?” you asked, giggling nervously.

“I love you,” he said earnestly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. 

“I love you, too,” you replied shyly, grinning softly. 

He matched your grin, drinking you in a moment longer before crashing his lips upon yours once more. 

When Dean woke the next morning, it didn’t take long for a grin to spread across his face as he quickly realized two things. 

The first thing being that you, the love of his life, still remained tangled up in both his arms and the sheets, sleeping peacefully atop his chest. 

The second being that, for the first time in a total of thirteen days, he was able to sleep without being haunted by his nightmares. 

He felt you stir, and his grin widened as you nestled in closer, tightening your grip on him as you slept. He planted a kiss against your temple, pulling you in close as he blissfully settled in for another peaceful rest. 

Maybe witches aren’t so bad.

tagging: @roseblue373

let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

[celestialprincesse]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

When Simon had given you his work address, and the password for the door to get in, you’d scoffed at the thought of needing to use it. You’d grown comfortable in your quiet life, no longer plagued with the urge to run, with the fear of being caught up with. 

You and Charlotte. 

You’d never been able to picture your position now, shaking fingers prodding at the keypad, a crying Charlotte on your hip. So absorbed in your fear, which had struck you the moment you’d returned from Charlotte’s school pickup to see your apartment door open, that you don’t even see the bearded man opening up the door from the inside for you. 

“Everything alright, Miss?” He questions in clear concern, ushering you into the entry hall with blue eyes darting between yourself and your wailing daughter. 

“I’m here - Simon said i could find him here if I needed anything.” You hiccup, not even having noticed the tears ebbing down your cheeks, so consumed by the realisation that you need to get out. Find safety. Find Simon. Maybe even that other man you met once - Mac something.

Too distraught to protest, you allow yourself to be ushered into some sort of reception room, noting the way the older man looks behind you with a vigilant scan before shutting the door. "Is Simon Riley here?" You plead with him again, terrified at the thought of being unable to see your neighbour, having someone to soothe your wailing daughter whilst you yourself calm down.

Before the blue eyed man can get a word out, two other men are barrelling into the reception area, one of them, thankfully, being Simon. You can't help but choke out a relieved sob when he tentatively comes closer, allowing you the chance to deny his approach, which you don't.

"What happened? Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

The entire room seems to pick up into a flurry of activity the minute the other two men in the room, Simon's friend you'd met that one time, and the other man, seem to realise that not only do you and Simon know one another, but also that you and the little tot in your arms are important to him.

Simon quickly ushers you to one of the worn leather couches, although he never forces you to sit, seeing how high strung you are at the current moment, the way you clutch Charlotte to your chest like she'll be ripped from your grasp at any given moment. Meanwhile, MacTavish looks on in concern, checking the car park you'd just come in from, and the other man slowly guides a glass of water into your shaking hand.

"Door was open when I got home." You manage to choke, letting Simon ease your vice grip on your daughter, just enough to hoist her up on his hip, before pulling you into his chest.

"S' okay, yeah? Promise you're in good hands here." He soothes, rocking the three of you from side to side, taking the opportunity to share a look between Price, Soap and himself. "Listen, the boys will go and have a look, okay? Promise they won't touch anything or mess anything up, just make sure everything is okay."

You give a hesitant nod, sniffling into Simon's chest as another taller, leaner man walks into the room, his handsome features immediately twisting into concern at the odd sight.

Over the next few hours, you, Simon, Charlotte and the sweet man you'd come to know as Kyle wait out on base, nervously awaiting the return of Captain Price and Simon's closest friend Johnny.

Admittedly, your situation is terrifying, and you're still not quite sure where to go from here, but at least you're in good hands. Four pairs of them.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[cursedyuri]

so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?

18+ below! smut smut smut!

ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.

it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.

but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?

all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.

it’s a video.

you sent her a video.

she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”

holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.

you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”

and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.

and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.

as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”

ellie. ellie ellie ellie.

“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.

when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.

“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.

when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.

and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.

[peachesofteal]

you bake when you’re upset or stressed - ghoap/f!reader

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the quiver in your voice doesn't do much to dispel Simon's suspicion, and you toss the bowl full of brownie batter onto the counter. "I'm fine."

"You're baking at three in the morning, sweetheart. Did something happen?"

"I had a bad day, is all. It's nothing." The lie hisses through your teeth, jaw set tight as an attempt to keep everything bottled up where it belongs.

"What's going on?" Johnny's leaning against the counter in plaid pajama pants, gold ring on the chain around his neck glinting in the dimmed light of the kitchen. They both wear them, the rings, the ones complementing yours, a delicate twist of three threads, woven together to make one tight knit strand, looped together in a knot at the top of your finger where a diamond would normally go.

"Baked goods in the middle of the night." Simon sticks his finger in the batter, and gives you a knowing look. "You know I'll keep you here until you let it out." You shake your head.

"Let's go back tae bed then." Johnny's trying to coax you, gently, as always. It's his way. Soft, slow, sweet. Even keeled and sensitive.

Still, you won't budge.

It's not them. It's something else, something unsettled in your stomach you can't explain. It's you. Always you. Distraught. Disorganized. Disappointing.

"I need to finish these." Simon's focus is one of a predator's, and you're always prey. Analyzing, anticipating, nose to the ground on a scent. He’s already got you pegged, turned inside out. He knows.

When Johnny carefully wraps his fingers around your wrist and Simon hops onto the counter with his knees spread wide, you know you're done for.

You let them arrange you. Let Johnny push you between Si's thighs and cup your face, stroke your cheek. You go willingly, lacking a fight that was so prevalent only an hour before.

It takes two minutes of physical touch before you're crumbling.

"I had a terrible day," you sob, "I got a parking ticket and spilled my tea and missed an important email and then I bailed out of my work out halfway because I was miserable and then I didn't do anything at home, I wasn't productive, I didn't get any of the laundry done like I wanted and I left so many dirty dishes in the sink last night, I-"

"Okay, hey." Johnny rubs your arm, "hey, ye're alright dove. Ye're okay." He knocks his forehead against yours. "Jus' breathe f'me. Just breathe." You suck a long gasp in through your lungs, Simon tightening his hold enough to ground you.

"Who cares about the laundry? It's not even your week, and the dishes are our fault. You worked all day, we laid around. Should have done them."

"I know!" You cry, "I mean... you should have. But I left them and I feel like I'm always so disorganized, I'm always making a fucking mess."

"I'd clean up your mess everyday. I love you, your dishes and whatever else… none of it matters." Simon kisses your temple, "we both would. And there's nothing wrong with calling it during a workout if you're not feeling well. That's the right thing to do." You nod miserably, lingering in their hold, their arms, your heart rate slowly sinking back into a normal rhythm, your air coming easily.

"Now, do ye really want these brownies? Or do ye want to put the batter in the fridge?"

"Batter in the fridge." You press your face into Simon's shoulder, blocking out the light. You're suddenly so tired, energy drained from the emotional purge, and Johnny rubs your back.

"I'll put it away, ye two go get in bed. Put on a movie, an' I'll be in."

The bed is the coziest place in the house. The safest. The warmest. It's so easy to succumb to sleep and sweet dreams here, so it's no wonder by the time Johnny makes it back, you're barely awake. He tugs you away from Simon's snores and into his arms. "Ah love ye, dove. Messes an' all." You smile.

"I love you too."

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night

bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader

cw — alcohol, brief talks abt arguing, this is lowk short

summary — you drunk call rafe for a ride home from your friends house.

a/n — whipped this up in a few minutes so please don’t be too harsh. request!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you sat outside with the warm breeze as you waited on the steps to your best friends house for your boyfriend to pick you up. you were completely out of it, eyes feeling heavy, body all soft and feeling like jelly from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through you.

you’d probably had one too many drinks and you were expecting a lecture from rafe when he arrived but you were too far past the point of caring. you just wanted to see him and go home after the terrible day you’d had.

the two of you had argued earlier in the afternoon which eventually led to you both parting ways and not speaking for a few hours. you were both very opinionated and you had attitudes that often didn’t mix well when you were frustrated. one of you usually apologized though and you guys moved past it.

this one was different though. you knew you’d been a little mean in your replies but you also felt like he deserved a little reality check. you currently couldn’t even remember why you were arguing due to your drunken state, but you knew it was something you guys could easily get over. you two would probably forget about it by morning anyway.

when you finally saw the big truck pull into the driveway, you quickly stood and almost immediately regretted the sudden action. your head began to spin and a pain accumulated behind your eyelids as you drunkenly stumbled to his car. he was standing on the passengers side waiting for you.

once you approached after tripping over your own feet, he opened up the door for you without a word and helped you up the big step to get inside. he shut it behind you and made his way into his own seat. he assured you had your seatbelt on and began reversing out of the driveway without a word.

“i’m sorry,” you slurred quietly, noticing the way both his hands held the steering wheel instead of one of them resting on your thigh. “didn’t know who else to call.”

you heard him sigh and begin to drive. “would rather you call me than anyone else,” he admitted honestly and spared a glance in your direction. his heart broke a little at the soft pout on your lips and the sad glint in your eyes. “‘nd i’m not mad at you, baby. ‘s fine.”

your eyes glistened with tears as you looked at him. “you’re not?” you mumbled under your breath, eyes feeling heavier and your head getting all foggy.

he shook his head with a shrug and gently rested his hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. “could never be mad at you,” he said before the car fell into a comfortable silence. the only sound being the quiet song playing on his radio.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep or how long it’d been since, but you began to wake to the sight of rafe standing in front of you looking extremely focused and a soft towel being dragged carefully over your cheeks. you were sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread slightly and him standing between them with majority of your body weight leaning against his.

he was holding your jaw in one hand while the other hand did what you assumed was taking off your makeup. when you finally fluttered your eyes open for real this time, he scanned your face and placed the towel down on the counter. “you have fun tonight?”

you nodded and smiled softly. “mhm. morgan’s friends are really nice. the bar was so cool,” you replied, awkwardly rubbing your hands along your thighs not knowing whether or not it was appropriate to touch him. “‘m really sorry, rafe.”

he went silent for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “its okay, sweetheart. we both said some shit we shouldn’t have. ‘s alright. people make mistakes.”

“i was bein’ a bitch earlier,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his chest.

he laughed softly and smoothed a hand down the back of your head comfortingly. “i think i can handle your attitude pretty well by now,” he replied just barely above a whisper. “c’mon. time for bed.”

you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you and walking you to your shared bedroom before dropping you down gently on your side. he was quick to pull his shirt over his head and crawl under the covers beside you.

you scooted closer to his side and sighed at the familiar warmth you enjoyed so much. his arm loosely fell to the dip of your waist as he scrolled through netflix to find a movie on, knowing you couldn’t sleep without the tv on. “i love you baby,” you muttered through a sleep-laced voice.

he smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair. “i love you more, angel.”

[starfilmz]

FEMININE URGE | a rafe cameron fic.

— when a pogue takes a liking towards a certain kook. named it “feminine urge” because everything she’ll do here comes from that.

a/n: no update for thoroughfare and famous!rafe today so here’s something. half text half smau which is actually pretty fun to do. (not proofread)

01 | 02 | 03

you couldn’t help but giggle at sarah’s reply on your tweet but chose to close your phone as you placed it inside the pockets of your apron. as much as you hated to admit it, jj was right. adding topper to your private instagram was a bad decision, and you’ve already removed him after seeing his comment on your latest post—though you couldn’t really blame him; if it were any of your friends who said it, you would’ve accepted.

topper was a nice guy; at least you assumed he was after he gave you a fifty dollar tip last week, but you weren’t shocked when he used it as some sort of leverage to get your socials. he had his chance, and he blew it up, so it’s his own fault.

you hummed as you cleaned the sticky countertop of the bar you’re working at. you're one of the few bartenders left in the place, the last one’s desperate to stay anyway. Sip N’ Dine paid well, which is why you chose to take the job, but you weren’t aware at the time the whole reason for their generosity was because kooks like topper and his friends raided the place almost every party they host. you met topper at one of his, another reason why you complied on his request to get to know you.

the night was still young, but luckily for you and the rest of your coworkers, no kooks seemed to have any interest in partying tonight. so, you took your sweet time organizing everything around you, unaware of the new presence behind your counter.

it was only when you heard a knock against it did you turn around. you almost tripped on your own two feet when you saw who it was.

“open a tab for me, will you?” rafe cameron said, sliding the card against the table, keeping his eyes on you—specifically your slightly unbuttoned uniform, revealing the layers of necklaces you wore. and maybe a bit of your tits.

with a swallow of nothing, you gave him your usual costume service smile as you went up to your station. “alright, what can i start you with?” you asked as you grabbed for his card, keeping it under the counter in a shelf where most of the cards are kept.

“your name would be nice, just so i know who to call,” he smiled, though it was closer to a smirk as it doesn’t exactly reach his eyes.

looks like someone had a bad day.

“most people call me ‘bartender’ since, y’know, i’m the only one here,” you glanced around between the two of you, raising an eyebrow at him. was this your attempt at flirting? yes, unfortunately. “but if you’re dying to know, my name’s y/n.”

“was i that obvious?” rafe replied with the same tone, and you might just throw yourself at him if you didn’t have an ounce of shame left in your body. “alright, y/n, i’ll have a miller lite first.”

“starting of easy, i see,” you commented almost instinctively, as it was encouraged by your boss to ‘challenge’ your customers so they’d buy more. “one miller lite, comin’ right up.”

you grabbed a pint glass from behind you, as well as one of your many miller lites on the shelves, placing it down in front of rafe as you poured the alcoholic drink in.

“holler if you need anything else.” you thought it was best to keep your distance before it became too obvious how nervous you were from his piercing gaze. you took this opportunity to entertain under customers arriving.

a few minutes have passed, and you’re already dealing with a bunch of drunks trying to take you home, though they weren’t the ones making you uncomfortable.

rafe, from the time he arrived, only called for you to refill his cup. nothing more, nothing less. you also know whenever someone’s staring at you from a mile away, so it wasn’t hard to realize rafe’s still on you this whole time.

“y/n?” he called, holding on to the bottom of his empty pint glass. just as you served two more shots for a customer, you went back to him with a smile, already grabbing for the miller lite.

“you don’t have to get that,” he said from behind you, making you turn around as he took a deep breath. “i’m closing my tab.”

“right, okay,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed his card. “enjoyed your beer?”

you wondered why you even attempted to make casual conversation as you swiped his card, but it was rafe cameron for fuck’s sake. you were creeped out by his constant staring, sure, but you couldn’t help but like the attention he’s giving you.

“i did, thank you,” he hummed as you handed his card back to him, your hands brushing against his calloused ones. “it helped me while i think of why topper, the loudest guy i know, would swear to secrecy just for a pogue.”

you physically froze as he smirked at you, standing up from his seat. “honestly, i was a bit weirded out by the comments, but now that i’m looking at you,” he tiled his head, scoffing out a grin. “maybe i’ll make an exception.”

with that, he left, leaving one hundred dollars under his glass.

“oh, shit.”

[starryjake]

teddy bear pajamas pt. 2 | l.h

read part 1 here!

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, nipple play, dirty talk. (lmk if i missed anything).

it was like he was able to read your mind. that, or he was just as turned on as you were and needed more. either way, you wanted to give everything to him. whatever he wanted to do with you, you’d allow. that was how badly you needed him.

you climbed into heeseung’s lap, his bare cock rubbing against the fabric of your pajama pants. he shuddered at the sensation, still sensitive from his previous orgasm only minutes ago.

he grabbed your bare waist, sliding his large hands up and down your overheated skin. you tossed your head back in pleasure and suddenly felt the sensation of his lips wrapping around one of your nipples while his finger rubbed the other one.

you moaned loudly, too far gone to care about the potential of waking up your brother and his friends in the other room. to be touched by heeseung felt too good, you couldn’t hold back no matter how hard you tried.

you began grinding your still clothed pussy against his cock, needing friction and needing it immediately. heeseung basically growled, tugging at the waistband of your pants, hinting at you to take them off.

momentarily, you crawled off of his lap to slide the teddy bear printed pants off your legs.

heeseung chuckled, saying, “you’re so fucking cute in those pants. i just need them off, baby.”

blushing, you dropped the pants to the floor and crawled back into his lap, both of you entirely bare now. he leaned in and licked a stripe up your neck, moaning at the taste of your skin.

“need you,” you whispered, so softly that he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly.

“what’s that, baby?” he asked in a sweet tone. “you need me? need my cock in your pretty little hole?”

you convulsed in embarrassment and desire. your stomach tightened with arousal and you squeezed his hand, pouting slightly.

“mhm,” you hummed, looking down at where his cock was pressed against your pussy, but not inside.

“you shy little thing,” he whispered, caressing your cheek. “go ahead and put in, sweet girl. nothing’s stopping you.”

you looked at his face with wide eyes. he was so relaxed and calm, while you were freaking out internally because you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you were getting it.

“me?” you choked out.

“aw,” he cooed, grinning at your shock and embarrassment. “do you need some help? here, sit up for me real quick.”

you complied, sitting yourself up on your knees so you were just hovering over him. he grasped his cock and lined it up with your quivering hole.

“ready?” he asked gently, his eyes filled with stars as he looked at you.

“please,” you begged.

you felt the swollen tip of his cock pry at your entrance before breaking the barrier and slipping inside. it wasn’t difficult with how wet you were, with how prepared your body was to have him inside of you.

he gripped your hips and helped you slowly lower back down until your pelvises were pressed together and he was completely buried inside of you.

for a moment, the two of you sat still, your bodies intertwined. he comfortingly rubbed your sides and your arms, looking up at you to make sure you were alright. it felt good even without moving, just to have his cock sitting inside of you.

but then he started kissing and nibbling along your neck and your chest and you just had to move. you slowly raised yourself up, feeling every detail of his long cock as your pussy glided up and down on it.

“fuck,” he moaned, watching you slowly adjust to his length. “so pretty like this.”

you whimpered, grinding back and forth with him inside you. your pace started slow, but then heeseung began raising his hips up, thrusting into you.

the feeling was unlike any other sex you had before. you weren’t incredibly experienced by any means, but it had never felt this good before. the mixture of the sounds heeseung was making, the way his hips fluidly glided up into you, his hands on your body, all of it was making for the most insane sexual experience of your life. you felt euphoric, and he could see it from the way your eyes were rolling back into your head and the fucked out sounds you were making.

“hee,” you cried out, forcing your eyes open to look at him beneath you. “it feels so f-fucking good.”

you planted your hands on his abdomen for leverage, starting to bounce on his cock now instead of the gentler movements you’d been doing previously.

heeseung seemed to like this as he stared at your tits bouncing in his face. he couldn’t help from leaning forward and taking one in his mouth again, moaning around the erect bud.

you held the back of his head to your chest, clenching and unclenching around his dick. he groped your ass in his hands, guiding you up and down his length.

“fuck,” he moaned, switching to your other nipple as not to neglect it. “you’re perfect. my perfect baby.”

you dug your nails into his abdomen, leaning forward. you were staring to get tired and you gradually lowered yourself down until your chests were pressed together. you laid your head on his chest, your movements coming to a halt. he still slowly thrusted into you, too lost in the pleasure to realize you’d even stopped.

but then he felt your breath hitting his neck and he opened his eyes, realizing you’d stopped moving and were just laying on top of him.

“you okay?” he asked, pushing some hair out of your hair.

“yeah,” you answered, looking up at him with a tired smile.

“my baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “lay on your back for me.”

you did as you were told, pulling yourself off him and laying on your back. heeseung sat up on his knees and spread your legs, positioning himself between them. he wrapped your legs around his slender waist and guided his cock back inside of you.

you moaned out as you two were reconnected once again, this time in a different position. he pulled out almost all the way before stuffing his cock back inside, already starting out at a quick pace.

moans and the sounds of your skin slapping together filled the steamy room. heeseung fucked you into your mattress, slowly becoming drunker and drunker off your pussy and how delightfully tight it was squeezing him.

“mmm, oh my god,” he babbled. “your pussy is fucking amazing, baby, fuck. just wanna fuck you all the time. would my baby like that? want me to fuck her all the time?”

“please,” you sobbed, clenching harshly around him at the idea of getting to fuck him again. “please fuck me, oh my god. harder, hee, please!”

heeseung growled, gripping your waist for leverage as he thrusted even harder, slowly pushing you up your mattress.

you cried out, turning your head to the side. you were met with the view of your bedroom door where your brother could barge in at any second to find his best friend balls deep inside of you. it was wrong. you knew jay would be furious, but in that moment, you truly didn’t care.

“you’re so fucking wet,” heeseung grunted, pulling you back into reality.

you clenched around him again, suddenly feeling a turn in your stomach which told you that you were getting close.

you were so wet, your thighs were sticky. you were sure there was a puddle beneath you seeping into your mattress from all the arousal that had dripped out of you, that heeseung was fucking out of you.

you looked up at his face. his cheeks were red, his hair was sticking to his forehead from sweat, and his face was entirely concentrated on keeping his rhythm. he looked unbelievably good and you couldn’t believe you had him like this, that he was fucking you so good right now.

“‘m close, hee,” you warned.

“oh fuck, please,” he moaned. “cum around my cock, angel. wanna feel you cumming on me so bad.”

his words pushed you closer and closer. that along with heeseung’s steady thrusts hitting you in the perfect spot every time finally pushed you over the edge.

your body froze and you clenched around him harder than you had all night. you gasped, biting your lower lip as you finally released around him, you orgasm hitting you much harder than your previous one.

your legs shook around his waist and heeseung paused just to watch you. you looked so beautiful when you came, he couldn’t believe it. he also couldn’t believe that by just watching you cum, heeseung also suddenly felt the urge to cum.

“oh fuck,” he moaned. “i’m gonna cum, baby. tell me where you want me to cum.”

“my stomach,” you moaned out.

heeseung shoved his cock in and out of you a few more times before he pulled out and jerked himself to release all over your stomach, drenching you in white, gooey cum.

he hissed as his hand glided over his sensitive tip, pushing out rope after rope of his release. he came even more just seeing you covered in his own cum, seeing his friend’s innocent sister in such a state.

when he was finally finished, he collapsed beside you. all you two could do was lay there and catch your breath, comprehending everything that’d just happened.

what began as an innocent movie night in your bed had turned into something entirely different. you were glad with the outcome, but you were already growing nervous that he was regretting it.

he wasn’t saying anything which fueled your anxiety. you turned your head to the side, looking at him.

before you could speak, he said, “are you okay?”

“yeah,” you assured. “are you?”

your nerves were immediately relieved when he shoots you that signature heartwarming smile. he pulled you into his chest, kissing the top of your head.

“of course i am,” he said. “that was fucking—i don’t think there’s a word good enough to describe it.”

you smiled into his sweaty chest, inhaling his scent. your eyes fluttered shut and listening to the sound of his consistent heart beat, you knew you were on the verge of sleep.

before you let yourself rest, you muttered out, “please don’t go.”

heeseung squeezed your shoulder a bit and said, “i’m not going anywhere, baby.”

you smiled again, dazed, before finally falling asleep on him.

-

read part 3 here!

thanks for reading!

[htchnr]

ミ★ the walls come down ꜜ WARWICK!VANDER.

𖦹 masterlist. 𖦹 buy me a ko-fi!

「 summary,, requested by a lovely anon; could you write a smut fic where Warwick!Vander recognises reader?. 」

「 ꜜcontent,, smut ⋆ unprotected sex ⋆ monster fucking ⋆ belly bulging ⋆ creampie ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ kinda of sweet sex(?) ⋆ sappy and cut off aftercare. ꜜwc,, 1,1k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

you don't know how this spiralled the way it did — your back being harshly pressed against the crappy sleeping bag you had dragged into the greenhouse when Viktor let Vander sleep there — his impossibly fat cock filling you up in a way that makes you feel like you're suffocating.

low animalistic grunts and growls sound from him as he hammers his heavy hips into yours, his pace not once faltering. your eyes roll back each time you catch a glance of the clear bulge in your stomach, as your fingers press down against it occasionally Vander lets out a rough snarl. his pace only quickens at the feeling.

" Vander-! slow- " you gasp, your nails digging into his thick and hairy biceps. your finger tips occasionally reach the metal, flinching at the somehow cold metal. " oh fuck! " you cry out as the bullying of your insides causes you to tip over into what you think must be your fourth orgasm by now.

Vander growls at the feeling of your tight, hot and wet walls spasming around him once again. finally, it was enough to tip him over the edge as well — his heavy hips stilling with a brutal final thrust and what could only be described as a roar as he spills his load into you. he buries his head against your chest and you gasp at the feeling, his thick cum leaking out in obscene amounts. you could feel your belly swell with each spurt.

you lay there, occasionally spasming beneath him as you both come down from your intense highs. all you can do is look up at the glass roof, your hands still firmly holding his thick biceps as you feel him take deep and heavy breaths.

" Vander? " you quietly call out, dragging your hand to hold the back of his head.

he lets out a sound, low and rough, akin to what you could only assume to be 'five more minutes' as he nuzzles his face impossibly closer into your chest. you let out a breathy laugh, combing your fingers through the thick fur atop his head. your eyes watch the small twitches from his long ears each time your gently brush against them, mesmerised by this intensely calm version of him.

" okay, you can have five more minutes. " you quietly respond, a tired smile on your lips. Vander lets out a pleased sound and a long exhale. " you better not fall asleep on me big guy, cause i need to get us cleaned up in a minute or two. " Vander makes a displeased sound — typical Vander. even before he was changed he'd love nothing more than to stay buried inside you for as long as he possibly could.

your heart clenches at the thought, and Vander can feel the sudden change in emotion. he grumbles, slowly lifting his heavy head off your chest to look at your face. he tilts his head, a clear 'is everything okay?'. you smile, smoothing your hand down to his cheek. " i'll be okay, now that i have you back again. " you whisper.

Vander's eyes close, a low, sad sound leaving him as he leans down to press his forehead against yours. you close your eyes too, nudging your nose against his much, much larger one.

life was going to be difficult for him to adjust to again, but you think everything will be alright again now that he's here with you.

authors note y'all..... that turned out way sweeter than i intended. i wanted to go crazy with the feral fucking, but honestly i just wanna hold Warwick!Vander and tell him everything will be alright... 😭🫠 act 2 of s2 F U C K E D me U P and i'm gonna slowly heal by writing these Vander fics 😭❤️‍🩹