#i think i’ve scared him off now i feel kinda bad

[rat6ix]

SEPARATED .

Chishiya x reader

Summary: When you and chishiya get separated from kuina and the rest of the group while trying to get away from the king of spades you both are forced to confront your feelings

Warnings: smut, probably ooc chishiya but i’ll try my best, kissing, grinding/dryhumping, riding, they don’t take off their clothes all the way cause they’re kind of not trying to get killed at any second, readers a lil nervous guys, hair pulling sorta kinda.

Wc:1.3k

— 🐀

—

Maybe running behind the guy that never took his hands out of his pockets was a bad idea, cause now you were stuck in a random apartment complex with the guy you’d been thinking about undressing the entire time you’d known him. You, chishiya, kuina and the others had been running from the king of spades previously, trying not to end up stuck to the ground with a bullet through you like the other unfortunate people in his sight. But unfortunately you and chishiya got separated when the king of spades threw a bomb your way before you both could make it in the car.

You were a little glad but also scared cause you had no idea where your friends were now, glad because the five of you aren’t squished together in the back seat of the car tatta was driving. Now that brought you back to your current problem, chishiya. He was in the other room while you raided the kitchen for some food that wasnt rotten and actually edible. Eventually you got lucky, stumbling upon their canned food cupboard. Grabbing the cans you made your way to the living room where chishiya sat on the couch tinkering with something electronic on the coffee table.

You set the food and the can opener down on the table as well as the forks you’d found, sliding a can you opened to him. He eventually stopped tinkering and nodded as thanks. You both ate in silence, the whole time you were trying not to look over at him. You eventually caved as he let out a loud sigh, curious as to what for.

“You’re sort of pathetic.” He spoke after a while, putting his food down on the table in front of you both.

“So I’ve been told.” You acknowledged, suddenly your can of food was the most interesting thing in the world.

You could practically feel his smug smile from across the couch, your eyes refusing to meet his. He hummed before speaking again.

“If you weren’t constantly staring at me when you thought i wasn’t looking i’d start to think you didn’t like me.”

You froze, knowing you’d been caught. Of course, nothing could make it past chishiya. You should’ve known, but maybe you were too busy staring to notice. You couldn’t try to defend yourself, it wouldn’t make a difference. So you kept quiet, shrinking into yourself and trying to get back to your food; even if your stomach was upset from anxiousness.

“I find myself staring at you sometimes.” He confessed, still staring at your face that was now twisted in shock.

You accidentally slammed your can down on the coffee table a little too hard, so stunned by what he said to remember your own strength; You were lucky it wasn’t one of thoes fancy glass ones. You could see chishiya’s eyebrow raise from the corner of your eye, his arms crossed and resting on his chest. You finally looked at him, trying your hardest to not break eye contact. You noticed the side of his mouth twitching upwards, he finally had you looking at him just like he wanted.

You didn’t know what to do as chishiya made his way towards you, sitting too close for you to function properly. You definitely didn’t know what to do as he took your face in his hand and pressed his mouth to yours. Your hands were stiff at your sides as you kissed him, not knowing if you should touch him. He pulled away with a content look on his face, using his hand that wasn’t gripping your face to guide your hand to his own. You got the memo as you moved your other hand to his shoulder and pulled him in again.

You made your way into his lap at some point, trying not to break the kiss as you pushed him back into the couch cushions. When the kiss was broken chishiya looked up at you with half lidded eyes, his hands settled on your hips as you tested the waters and pushed your lap against his. His reaction was small, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he bit his lower lip the smallest bit. He’d let out a sigh with a whiny undertone as you grinded against him, resting his head on the cushion behind him as you kept going.

He lifted his head to look at you as you stopped, only to let out a gasp as you pulled his cock out of his pants. You lifted your hips to pull your own pants down to your thighs before sliding down on his cock, a quiet moan leaving you as you did. Chishiya dug his fingers into the couch as you rode him, the tips of his fingers turning pale from the pressure. You leaned down to kiss him, putting your hands on his chest to keep steady. Chishiya brought his hands up to your back, sliding them up your shirt as you deepened the kiss.

Every once in a while he’d let a groan escape into your mouth, his hips bucking upward and reaching deeper into you. You tried not to get too loud, breathing heavily with the occasional moan. Chishiya cursed under his breath as you tugged at his hair and broke the kiss, his eyes clouded with lust as he locked eyes with you. A smile made its way to your face as you took in his disheveled state. his cardigan was falling off, his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, his eyes were heavy with lust and his mouth was slightly ajar as heavy breaths and the occasional whine left him.

“Mmm, you’re laughing at me?” He teased, his mouth closed and raised into a smirk.

You shook your head, the smile still on your face. Instead of replying verbally you leaned down to press your lips to his neck, he moved his head to the side to give you better access. His eyes almost completely rolled back into his head as you sucked on the exposed skin, his arms slacked against you. You pulled moan after moan from him as you continued your assault on his neck, you were sure he wasn’t going to last long like that.

He could barely keep his head up when you finished, the blissed out expression on his face matching perfectly with the red and purple bruises on his neck. Your lips were probably swollen by now from the kissing and covering chishiyas neck in hickies, your lips shiny from being covered in both yours and chishiyas spit from your previous make out session. The side of chishiyas neck also shining from your assault, a sheen of saliva coating it and highlighting the bruises.

“Gonna cum soon..” he whispered, nails digging into your upper back as he rested his head in between where your shoulder and head meet. You quicken your pace at this, chishiya letting out a noise of surprise against your skin. You dont doubt that your back was covered in marks from chishiyas nails at this point, even if nobody would be able to see them you would be able to feel them under your shirt.

His grip switched when he came, pulling you into him by your shoulders; his arms hooked under yours as he moaned. You came not long after that, the feeling of you squeezing around him making quiet whimpers leave his mouth. You weren’t any better, whiny moans leaving you as you rode out your high. Chishiya muttered something unintelligible into your shoulder before pulling you off his lap, carefully as to not hurt you.

He shoved himself back into his pants before searching the empty apartment for something to clean you with. Eventually he did, it wasn’t much considering the state of the world but it was better than leaving you leaking with his cum. After he was done he pulled your pants up and pulled you so you laid next to him and pressed a kiss to your sweat covered forehead. It didn’t take long for you both to fall asleep, deciding it would be the best course of action.

—

[autism-disco]

i think i just crushed someone’s dreams whoops

[missposessive]

WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument. 

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

[cookiescribble]

Innocent Love

Flufftober Day 16: “Yes, No, Maybe” + bonus prompt “I’ve Got You.” (this one gets an actual title because i was planning on posting this as a regular fic)

A/N: I don’t think this is quite what the prompt meant (and the words are out of order) but I was already in the middle of writing this when we decided we were doing flufftober and had written that line so I figured I’d use it for this prompt 🫶🏻 - mod angel 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: After talking through some emotional concerns, you and Spencer finally feel comfortable getting intimate with each other. 

CW: very fluffy smut (18+), mutual loss of virginity, discussion/description of SA (based on the memories he talked about in 3x16)

~~~

You were sitting on the couch, originally watching a movie that had since been forgotten about. Your hands were tangled in Spencer’s hair, your lips against his, your kisses feeling like they were the air you need to breathe. 

You pulled away for a moment, both of you trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding as if you just ran a marathon. You looked at each other, letting out a little laugh, still holding onto each other. 

“Do you remember anything that happened in the last 20 minutes of this movie?” He asked, still laughing softly. 

You laughed harder, shaking your head. “No, I was focused on something way more important,” you murmured, grinning as you pulled him in for another kiss. 

He hummed against your lips, his hands automatically coming to hold your face, and you were back to kissing fervently. 

After a few more minutes of this, you slowly pulled him on top of you, never breaking the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You could feel his heart beating fast against yours, as you slowly slid one hand under his shirt…

Suddenly, he pulled away, wincing, his breath shallow and shaky. You pulled your hand back, holding it out in front of you. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” You asked, worried that you were going to scare him off. You hadn’t been dating for too long, and you didn’t want to rush things, but it had just felt… right. 

He hesitated, still catching his breath. “No… Yes? Maybe? I…” He sighed, and you could feel his breath on your face since he was still so close to you. “I don’t know…”

You reached up to touch his face, consoling him and giving him a soft smile. “Let’s stop for now, okay?”

He nodded, sitting up, running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. “Sorry…” he muttered, looking at you apologetically. 

You shook your head, putting your arm around him. “Nothing to be sorry about,” you assured him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his breath finally going back to normal. “I just… I-I don’t know,” he sighed, as if he was frustrated with himself. “I haven’t… I don’t…” he kept stumbling through starts of sentences he never finished. 

You pat his shoulder in a comforting gesture, letting him know you understood. You were trying to think of words yourself; you and Spencer had gotten far enough in your relationship that it was probably time to have a “talk,” but you felt shy about it. It was a slightly uncomfortable topic, especially since you didn’t know how to bring up your total lack of experience without sounding like a complete loser. 

He took your hand off his shoulder to hold it, linking your fingers together. The sweet gesture gave you the bit of courage you needed to keep talking. 

“So…” you started hesitantly, “do you… want to do… that, someday?” You tried not to blush, it shouldn’t be this big of a deal to talk about it. “Because some people don’t, and that’s totally okay too, and I really wouldn’t mind if-“

“No, I do,” he cut off your babbling. “I… I really want to try this with you. I just…” He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t… have any actual experience with… that, but I’ve had some experiences kinda… related to that, and they were… bad.”

You were kind of relieved to hear the first part of that, but hearing the last part of what he said made you furrow your brows. “I… also don’t have any experience, if that makes you feel better.” You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. “But, the other thing… Do you want to talk about it?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, just letting himself feel your calming touch. “I just… I’m worried I’ll start to freak out.” He sighed, gripping your hand a little tighter. “It’s… kind of a long story.”

“Well, I’m more than willing to listen,” you replied softly. “Besides, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

That caused him let out a soft chuckle, making you smile. “Okay, well… it started when I was in high school.” He stared into the distance as he talked, almost as if he was somewhere else, describing the events happening. “I was… well, less than popular in school, which I guess is to be expected when you graduate at 12.”

You nodded, giving his hand a little squeeze to try to ground him. You’re sure that wherever he was right now, it wasn’t a good place. 

He closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. “And… sometimes, people would just pretend to like me, and I didn’t know any better and I just believed them.” He gave your hand another squeeze. “One day… one of the girls in my class came up to me, and she said her friend wanted to meet me, and I was excited because I thought I liked her, and the idea of someone liking me was, like, unheard of at the time…”

You frowned, starting to soothingly stroke his hand with your thumb. He’d told you about his time in school being emotionally difficult, but he never told you any specifics. 

He opened his eyes again, still not looking at you. “So I met this friend at the time she told me, and when I got there… she was there, but it wasn’t just her; the whole football team was there, and…” His eyes were starting to water now. “And they… took my clothes off and they tied me to the goal posts… and they just laughed at me when I begged them to let me go.”

“Oh, Spence,” you whispered, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “That’s awful.”

He sniffled, looking like he was trying to hold his breath so he wouldn’t cry. He reached up to touch your hand that was on his face, closing his eyes again. 

You felt your heart breaking at his story. How could people be so mean to him? Especially when he was so young and vulnerable.

You pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his hair soothingly. “It’s okay now, honey,” you cooed in his ear. “I’ve got you. No one’s ever going to hurt you like that ever again.”

“I know…” he sighed, his voice still a little wobbly. “But I just… can’t forget it, and when you started to take my shirt off, it just brought me right back there.” He hugged you a little tighter, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil the moment…”

You shook your head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Spence,” you assured him. “I would never ask you to do something you weren’t ready for.” You pulled back slightly to look at him, pushing his hair back so you could look in his eyes. “If you want to try to go further, we can take things slow, okay? We can take our time.”

He nodded, looking up at you with those big, sad eyes of his. “Yeah, I think I like that idea.” He gave you a soft smile. 

You smiled back, kissing his forehead. “C’mon, let’s finish this movie.”

“I think we’re gonna have to rewind it,” he laughed softly, sitting up again. “I barely even remember what movie we were watching.”

…

You both kept your word about going slow. Every time you were alone together, you started to slowly get further and further. He eventually got comfortable with you taking his shirt off, and you both got a bit more comfortable letting your hands roam. 

One day, everything seemed to fall into place, and you were both finally ready. 

Spencer had come home after a rare slow day at the BAU, and he scooped you into his arms immediately when he entered your apartment. 

He was on you instantly, pulling you close and kissing you, his hands gently gripping your face as you fell back onto the couch. You let out a surprised hum against his lips, your hands tangling in his hair as the kiss started to get very heated. You took his tie off, throwing it on the side of the couch. He let you unbutton a few of the top buttons on his shirt, eventually breaking the kiss to look at you with half-lidded eyes. 

“Can we… go to the bedroom?” he asked softly, panting from the intense kiss. 

Your eyes widened slightly. “Are you sure?” you whispered back, reaching up to touch his face. 

He nodded, putting his hands over yours. “I’m sure. If… if you want to, that is…”

You nodded immediately, standing back up as you both walked to the bedroom, Spencer pulling you by your hand as you both giggled excitedly. 

You closed the door behind you, and Spencer slowly walked towards you, pulling you in by your waist. He kissed you, slower this time, with more intention. His hands slowly slid up your sides as his tongue slipped into your mouth. 

You let out a dreamy sigh, hugging him tightly. You lifted your arms as you let him pull your shirt off, tossing it off to the side somewhere. You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, and it joined yours on the floor as you fell back on the bed, Spencer quickly moving on top of you, his touch on your body feather light. 

His hands worked achingly slow, feeling every inch of you. Starting at your neck, slowly sliding down your arms, back up your waist… his touch so gentle you might not have felt it, if you weren’t paying attention. 

But, oh, you felt it. It felt like electricity was flowing through your body with every touch of his fingertips. He looked into your eyes as his hands kept roaming your body, you never thought you could feel so loved by somebody.

Eventually, his hands came to slowly push down your bra straps, making your breath catch in your throat. “Can I take this off?” He asked, his voice soft and sweet like honey. 

You nodded, sitting up so he could reach your back to unhook it. After a few moments, it joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

You looked up at him, and he was looking into your eyes. His eyes were slightly widened, and he seemed as though he was keeping himself from looking at you. 

You let out a warm laugh, reaching up to touch his face. “You’re allowed to look, Spence.”

He blushed as his eyes roamed down your body, leaning you back so you were laying down again. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands resuming their search on your body. You closed your eyes, just letting yourself feel the sensation. 

Eventually, his hands reached your chest, making you gasp lightly. Your eyes opened instinctively as you felt him hesitate. “Is… is that okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, your face slightly flushed. “It’s just… new. But not bad.” You looked up at him sheepishly. “It feels… nice.”

He gave you a soft smile, his head coming down to meet yours, your foreheads and noses touching. His hands resumed the soft touch, making you let out a soft moan when he touched the sensitive part of your skin. 

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then started planting soft kisses down your neck and your shoulders until his lips finally found your breasts. You let out a gasp, your eyes closing as your hands tangled in his hair. Your heart was pounding like crazy; you wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel it from where he was. 

His kisses were achingly gentle, before his tongue started moving in circular motions. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you were letting out soft whimpers. Eventually, he made his way back up and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. 

You both looked at each other, giggling softly, feeling like two teenagers sneaking away on prom night. You felt giddy, but serious at the same time. This meant a lot to both of you. 

You bit your lip, your hand slowly sliding down his side before you started to undo his belt. He let out a shaky breath, and soon you were working on his button and zipper, pulling it down…

“Wait!” He exclaimed suddenly, making you pull your hand away, slightly startled. 

“D-do you want to stop?” You asked, worried you did something wrong. 

“No, no, I don’t want to stop,” he shook his head. “I just… can’t forget…” he trailed off as he pulled something out of his pocket, placing a condom on your bedside table. 

You blushed fiercely, that one gesture suddenly making everything feel more real. 

He settled back on top of you, reaching his hand out to gently cup your cheek. “Had to make sure that didn’t get stuck in the clothing pile,” he laughed warmly. 

You laughed back, touching your noses together again. “Well, is it okay if this goes in the clothing pile now?” You asked, tugging at the waistband of his pants. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, his face looking a little red. ��All good now.”

You reached down to tug at his pants again, pulling them down as Spencer helped you slide them off. Your eyes wandered down his body, seeing something very prominently bulging in his underwear. Your eyes darted back up to his face, your cheeks turning pink. 

His hands were back on you, sliding down your sides before resting on your hips. “Your turn?” He whispered. 

“Y-yeah,” you whispered back, swallowing and nodding. You reached down to unbutton your own pants before Spencer’s hands were sliding underneath them, and soon they were discarded to the clothing pile. 

He got closer to your face again, biting his lip. “I’ve, uh, been doing some… research…” he murmured, sounding a bit flustered. 

“Research?” You repeat, laughing lightly. “What kind of research?”

“Well,” he started, his hand resting on your hip. “I just… really want to do this right. And I want you to feel good. So I, uh…” he looked a bit embarrassed. “I looked into… what women say feels good. And like, how to… get you… prepared…” he let out an awkward laugh, running his hand through his hair. 

You giggled, covering part of your face with your hand, your face feeling hot. “Yeah? And what did you discover?”

“Well, there were things they said help so it doesn’t hurt,” he explained, his hand trailing down your leg now. “So… I wanted to try it, because I don’t want you to be in pain while we do this.”

He was so sweet you could almost cry. Instead, you just nodded. “Okay… let’s try it, then.”

He nodded back, lifting your legs up and slowly pulling your underwear off. You looked up at him, a bashful look on your face as you lay bare underneath him. 

He took a moment to look over your body before clearing his throat. “Okay, so, the first thing they recommended was putting a pillow under your hips.”

You nodded, taking one of the pillows you weren’t laying on and handing it to him. 

He furrowed his brows, the way he did when he was concentrating hard on something. You picked up your hips so he could slide the pillow underneath you. 

“Comfortable?” He asked softly. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting your position slightly. Your hips were angled slightly upwards now. “What’s next?” 

“Next is to… get you… ready.” He reached up to  push a strand of hair out of your face. 

“R-ready?” You asked, your face a bit flushed. “So you’re gonna… t-touch me?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Is that okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, it’s okay. I guess I’m just a bit… nervous. I’ve never had anyone touch me like that before,” you mumbled, looking away. 

“Me neither,” he replied, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “But, this is supposed to help you feel less nervous, on top of trying to get your body used to… something being… in there,” he chuckled awkwardly. 

A giggle bubbled in your throat, your face bright red now. “Right, yeah,” you took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for what was about to happen. “Okay.”

His hand trailed down your body again, watching your face for any reactions. He parted your legs, his hand resting on your lower stomach. “Ready?” He whispered. 

“Ready,” you whispered back, taking another deep breath. 

His hand trailed down until he finally reached the bundle of nerves between your legs, touching it tentatively. 

Your breath hitched, and you let out a little whimper. Just one small touch and you were already feeling your body react. Your arms reached out to wrap around his shoulders, hugging him for support. 

“Does that feel good?” Spencer whispered in your ear, his fingers pausing to make sure you were still okay. 

You nodded vigorously, threading your fingers in his hair, your faces so close that you could feel his breath. “Yeah…” you whispered back, your face flushed. “It… it feels really good.”

His other hand moved to stroke your hair soothingly as he started circling your bud, earning a soft moan from you. 

The juxtaposition between the innocent sweetness he was showing and the very not innocent thoughts you were having were starting to make your head spin. You didn’t think you could ever feel so good, but you were already getting so worked up that you couldn’t imagine yourself lasting much longer. 

After a few minutes of Spencer rubbing you achingly slowly, he whispered to you again. “I’m gonna, um…” He seemed like he almost felt too shy to say the words. “… put my finger in now, okay?” He cleared his throat, his eyes looking into yours. “It’s supposed to help stretch you out a bit, so it doesn’t hurt… l-later.” He was blushing, his awkward mumbling sounding very endearing to you.

“Y-yeah, okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. “I can handle that.”

He nodded, stroking your hair before he went any further. “Just relax,” he whispered. “It said that tensing makes it more likely to hurt.”

You took a deep breath, relaxing your body as much as you could manage. It didn’t help that he had gotten you worked up so quickly. 

He pressed your foreheads together as he slowly slid one finger in, making you hug him a little closer, letting out a quiet whine as you felt this new sensation in your body. It was almost like a slightly full feeling, except that you felt like you wanted more. 

“Is that okay?” He asked softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “Doesn’t hurt?”

“N-no,” you stammered, deciding you’d answer his last question first. “It doesn’t hurt, it feels really good.”

“Do you think you can manage a little more?” He searched your face to look for any signs of discomfort. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, swallowing. “I think I can.”

He nodded at you, pressing his face to yours as he slowly slipped another finger in. 

You let out another soft whine, holding him a bit tighter. He looked at you, silently asking a question. “I’m alright,” you whisper softly. “It feels good.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he started moving his fingers, the new sensation filling you with excitement, already feeling like you were close to coming undone. 

“Spence…” you moaned softly as he suddenly kissed you hungrily, his tongue in your mouth causing you to tangle your fingers in his hair tightly. 

You didn’t think anything could feel this good, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, hitting you where it felt the best every time as if he was an expert. You felt something building in your stomach, your toes starting to curl as you let out a string of moans and whimpers. 

You pull away from the kiss, breathing shakily as you try to speak. “Spence… I-I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut as you suddenly felt overwhelmed by how much pleasure was coursing through your body. 

Spencer ran a hand through your hair, the gesture very gentle compared to the relentless way his fingers were moving inside of you. “Just let it happen. I’ve got you,” he murmured in your ear before his lips were back on yours, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. 

The tenderness in his voice and feeling of his lips and the movement of his fingers finally sent you over the edge, moaning loudly as you felt waves and waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your back arched off the bed as you got lost in the pleasure, almost feeling like it was never going to end. 

Finally, you felt yourself come down, panting as you tried to process what just happened. You’d never really felt that kind of sensation before.

Spencer was looking at you in awe when you finally looked back over to him, also seeming to be processing what just happened. 

You blushed, feeling a bit shy after all that. It made you feel more exposed than taking off your clothes had. 

After a few moments, he broke the silence by whispering, “You’re so beautiful.” He pushed your hair back, getting a better look at your flushed face. 

You smiled sheepishly, your heart warming at how sweet he was. He was really good at comforting you during such a vulnerable time. 

“So, uh…” you started, absentmindedly running your finger up and down his arm. “Do you think that was… sufficient?” You chuckled awkwardly, feeling like you sounded ridiculous. 

He was also blushing, his voice warm and sweet. “I hope so,” he laughed lightly back. “Do you feel… ready?”

You leaned in, looking into his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more ready for anything in my life,” you murmured. 

You both smiled at each other, Spencer’s face getting more and more flushed as your hand traced down his side to his hip. 

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one not wearing any clothes right now,” you teased as your fingers stopped right under the waistband of his underwear. 

He bit down on his tongue, his hand moving to help you finally take off the rest of his clothes. 

Soon, you both lay there, completely bare. Your face was a bright red, your eyes widening automatically as you looked over his body. You moved your eyes back up to his face and he met your gaze, pressing his forehead to yours and gently cupping your cheek. 

“Are you, ah…” You felt a bit embarrassed as you spoke. “Are you sure it was enough… preparing?” As stereotypical as it sounded, you were having trouble imagining him fitting inside of you.

He smiled softly, tangling his legs together with yours, the sense of closeness feeling reassuring to you. “You can tell me if it hurts… I want you to tell me if it hurts, okay? Or if you changed your mind-“

You shook your head, cutting him off. “I didn’t change my mind. I promise.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into another kiss, slowly moving on top of you so he was straddling your waist. You stifled a moan when you felt something hard pressing against your stomach.

After a few more moments, he pulled away slightly, his mouth still inches away from yours. “Okay, I… I’m going to…” He trailed off as he sat up a bit more, his hand right next to your face as his other reached for the condom on the table. 

You felt a bit embarrassed just staring at him, but you kind of couldn’t help it. “So, there’s like… a right and a wrong way to wear it, right? I remember being taught that in high school.”

He nodded, tearing the wrapper open and starting to slowly roll it down his length. “Yeah, I’ve been, uh… practicing,” he admitted sheepishly. 

A giggle bubbled in your throat as you thought about what that “practicing” meant. For some reason, it excited you how much he prepared for this. It meant that he really cared a lot for you. 

After it was on, he came back down to face you again. “Ready?” He asked softly, his hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers together. 

You gave his hand a little squeeze. “Ready,” you replied, nodding determinately. 

He looked into your eyes as he slowly pushed himself in, both of you letting out a little gasp as you finally joined your bodies together in this intimate harmony. 

You let out a little whimper when he was all the way in, feeling perfectly full. You fit together perfectly, like you were made for each other, as cliché as that sounded. 

After a few moments of just staying like that, your foreheads pressed together as you both adjusted to this new feeling, Spencer spoke breathlessly. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels… amazing,” you admitted, whispering to him. 

He smiled softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t holding yours. “Can I start moving?”

You nodded quickly. “Please,” you practically begged, your body already aching for this pleasure that was only just starting. 

He wasted no time, his eyes closing as he started a steady rhythm, his movements almost achingly slow. 

He leaned his head down for another heated kiss, letting out a quiet moan against your lips. You squeezed his hand tight, matching his moan as his thrusts started getting a little faster. 

You could immediately feel the pleasure building inside of you again. He was able to hit the exact spots that made you whimper and moan, and hearing his own muffled noises of pleasure against your lips was making you feel dizzy. 

After a few minutes, he pulled away from the kiss to bury his face in your neck, his movements starting to get erratic. He sounded like he was mumbling something to himself, his voice vibrating against your neck. You think you heard him listing some of the periodic table elements, which could’ve almost made you laugh if you weren’t so lost in the feeling of him. 

“Spence…” you whimpered, trying to pull his head up to press your face against his. “It’s… I…” You tried to convey the feeling building inside you as you felt yourself getting more and more worked up with each of his thrusts, but you couldn’t even form a cohesive thought. Instead, you squeezed his hand tighter, letting out a loud moan. 

Thankfully, he understood you, and you could feel his hair tickling your forehead as he nodded. “Me too,” he breathed, his voice slightly whiny. “God, me too.”

You wrapped your arm around him, the movement of his hips getting faster and faster as the room was filled with the noises you both were letting out. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore; your back arched, pressing your body against his, your feet tangling together as you felt his tensing against yours. You felt yourself hit that high for the second time tonight, your hips moving to meet his as he moaned loudly, his hips shuddering as he came right there with you, the frenzied movements dying down until he finally stopped, collapsing on top of you. 

You were both panting, trying to catch your breath after such an intense moment. He let go of your hand to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face in your neck. You reached up to gently stroke his hair, your other hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on his back. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, keeping each other close, your hearts thrumming in your chests against each other. His body was warm on top of yours; he almost felt like your personal weighted blanket. 

Eventually, Spencer lifted his head up to look at you. As you met his eyes, you both let out a little giggle, the giddiness of what you just experienced really hitting you. He moved so he was laying on his back, scooping you into his arms as you curled up into his side. 

“That was… wow,” you finally broke the silence, a big smile on your face. 

He smiled back at you. “Incredible,” he finished for you. “I… I never thought I could feel quite like that.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your tone slightly teasing. “Your ‘research’ didn’t prepare you for that?”

He laughed warmly, pulling you closer against him. “Nothing could’ve prepared me; you’re a one-of-a-kind person, and everything with you just feels so… special,” he gleamed at you, putting his hand over yours. “I… I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you breathed, getting slightly teary-eyed. You weren’t prepared for just how emotional this would make you. “I can’t imagine myself doing that with anyone besides you.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, his tone soft as his thumb wiped away the tear that was forming. “You okay?”

You nodded, turning your head to give his hand a little kiss. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you smiled softly at the comforting touch. “Just feeling a lot of emotions, I guess.”

“That’s normal,” he replied, pushing your hair back so he could look at you better. “The hormonal release can cause a flood of emotions, sometimes causing postcoital tristesse. It’s normal to feel some anxiety or sudden sadness-“

“It’s not sadness,” you cut him off. “I’m crying because I'm so happy.” You smiled wide, nuzzling his nose with yours. 

He couldn’t help but smile back, his eyes closing as he nuzzled your nose back. “That can also happen. I’m glad that’s the one you’re feeling.”

“Me too,” you sighed contentedly, resting your head on his shoulder as you closed your eyes, exhaustion suddenly hitting you. 

He let out a warm laugh as he saw you getting comfortable, hearing the drowsiness in your voice. “How about we get dressed and go to sleep?” he whispered. “I think we’ll both sleep really well tonight.”

“Mhm…” you mumbled, trying to will yourself to sit up after your body suddenly felt really heavy. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

After a bit of effort, you both got up to change into your pajamas, stealing a few quick kisses as you did so. You settled back into bed, snuggling up under the covers, whispering “goodnight”s before you both fell asleep almost instantly. 

After that night, you were practically inseparable. This had basically become a nightly routine; you tried out a whole bunch of positions to test what felt the best for both of you. His favorites were the ones where he could hold you in his arms. 

It always ended with lots of snuggling afterwards, the intimacy making your relationship even stronger than it was before. You never thought you could feel this much love for someone, but you felt it every day with Spencer.

[targaryenluvs]

— love, and other things

pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader x luke castellan

summary: luke and clarisse attempt to ease you into the concept of you all hanging out, with one end goal, the three of you happily together, which you practically already are.

warnings: luke and clarisse r kinda oblivious, reader is loving this, fluff, worry, kisses n hugs, confessions, luke is lovesick, attackdogs clair and luke

a/n: part one here! since everyone liked the concept, here’s part two! based on the reaction i’ve toned it down, sorry to anyone offended ❤️

tags: @onlyreadz @iluvthemoonandthestars @yourmom2909 @quinnsadilla @littlemiss-fanficlover @shark1008 @prwttiestbunny @urbisexualfriend @symp4nat @dracoslovergirl @slaggylemon @readerreadereater @luv-mia @theworldscalamity @madelainelupin16 @63angel @lildippersblog @ella33 @mira-belcul18 @humongoustacosalad @yourfavmiki @karslyn @sincerely-silk @poppysrin @leahthesimp @yourestargir1 @a2004sworld @lafemmii @liballer @dxddyissue @ahh-chickens @hervegasbaby @love-swimmingwolf @chickenking067 @girl-how-tf-this-shit-work @chr1sgirl4life @dorcas4meadowes @greenlucky7 @zealousenthusiastcheesecak @jonmartinsworldfr @whoemj @dracoslovergirl @stars4salem @csifandom @livil589 @4cepink @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @abbofff @trinkettray @perseus-jackass @kyleebilinski @angelic-delilah @voidashh @craftypastadeanbailiff @jemsyg @babysharkdodorodododo @brook8xoxo @marsbars09 @babyzzlove @lorarri @jadahxx @slutcoresblog

it started off slow of course.

they didn’t want to bombard you with the idea, so they settled with hanging out as a trio more often. it was basically normal at this point. you’d always be hanging out with eachother, talking, laughing, it was great.

you loved having your girlfriend and bestfriend get along finally, being able to hang out with both of them. but the feelings you had stirred confusion in you, and you couldn’t get rid of them. you’d always find yourself debating whether or not you wanted to tell luke about how you felt, but then the guilt would start up again. you had a girlfriend.

luke and clarisse could tell you were acting oddly, but they couldn’t tell why. were you nervous? uncomfortable? it was practically driving them crazy, little did they know you’d finally worked up the nerve to speak up.

yourself and clarisse were sat near the strawberry fields, your head in her lap as you continued to rant about your favourite book. you looked around and realised that the two of you were alone, which was rare. it was now or never, “clair,” she hummed, looking back towards you, “i, can i tell you something?” you sat up, straightening your back, “i think, i think i like luke.”

clarisses heart had been beating in her chest the second you wanted to tell her something, at your words she smiled, luke was going to freak out. “okay.” your eyes were so close to popping out of your head. clarisses temper was known, on a bad day just crossing her path could cause you to have your head shoved in the floor.

and you’d just told her you have a crush on someone else and she was smiling at you. who on earth was this and what had they done to your girlfriend?

“okay? that’s it?” clarisse took your hands into hers gently, “luke likes you too, and i don’t mind it. i— i might like him too. we didn’t want you to be scared or pressured. if you want us all to be together, than that’s your choice. i’m not going anywhere, and if luke is your friend then he’ll accept it.” you sighed, and clarisse held her breath, “how is this going to work?”

for about an hour yourself and clarisse talked about how your relationship would be, what would change, and what would stay. overall, it was just loving an extra person. of course it would be tricky at times, but as long as you were together you could figure it out. now everything aside, it was time to screw with luke.

luke would walk you back to your cabin at night all the time, obviously today would be no different. but what he didn’t know was that clarisse was waiting inside. the idea was basically to mess with him and flirt, but his soft smile and gorgeous eyes attacked your heart.

climbing up the stairs together, your hand reached out for his, stopping luke promptly as he looked at you, “just wait a second,” he grinned, “are you trying to confess your undying love?” the giggle was quiet but heard as heat rose to luke’s cheeks, “well actually,” his eyes grew a bit as he laughed uncomfortably, “i do, well i love you yes as a friend but i like you a lot. i never really admitted it to myself let alone you, but i told clarisse and she told me you liked me back. even before the two of us began dating. i’m sorry for making you wait, it was probably torture.”

he squeezed your hands, “it was. i tried my best to be happy for you but all i could think about was how much i wanted to be in her position. and then out of nowhere, i realised how gorgeous she was. the two of you, i’ve never felt like this before.” you smiled, “well we can all figure it out together no?” you stepped closer to him, hands on his face, smiling at the evident blush, “can i kiss you?” he smiled, “please.”

the kiss is sweet, and everything luke could have wished for, he’d been waiting for so long and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to let go. your hand reached to his neck, pulling him even closer, the door opening had you pulling back revealing a grinning clarisse. “i take it you didn’t go with the plan?” luke scoffed, “plan? what plan?” the two of laughed as you all made your way inside, “she was supposed to flirt with you and make you flustered. you are blushing so i wouldn’t say it’s a total fail.”

“so, what are we?” luke questioned the two of you, you shrugged your shoulders. clarisse laid down on the bed with you next to her, and on your right, luke. feet dangling off the bed and all staring up at the ceiling, “together, i think that’s all that matters.” clarisse replied as you frowned, “but what are people going to say?” luke and clarisse got up at the same time, anger filling the both of them at the idea of you being made fun of, not them, you. “if anyone has the stupidity to even comment on it, they’ll be in the infirmary for a month.” luke smiled, “no one’s going to say anything, because we won’t let them. don’t worry your head about it.” you smiled, kissing clarisse on instinct. “don’t third wheel me now.” luke smirked as you rolled your eyes, “clarisse is right there.” the two inched closer as you laid back down.

you couldn’t actually believe what you were seeing, yourself, clarisse and luke, in your bed, strewn about and happy. all interacting, all together. luke’s head was about to explode due to the fact that he had two amazing girls, all to himself.

the rest of the night you laughed and talked, your cabin siblings joining in as you all stayed up.

speaking about love and other things.

there’s been a lot of talk obviously and i understand where everyone is coming from so i toned it down and will continue to do so.

i’m sorry to anyone that was offended beforehand, i totally understand what you’re speaking on and what you think. to everyone who was excited for the previous version, please understand why i changed it. i love writing, but not at the expense of others.

- kira

[ramp-it-up]

Worth the Fall

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Despite the fact you have questions about Bucky and your parents’ conversation at Thanksgiving, you’re hitting your groove as a couple, but there is no time for alone time.

Word count: 3.4 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This part of the story is getting everything caught up to a month ago, lmao. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (I hope you do!)

This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after both You've Got Me Thinking and the Steve Rogers fic Peach III.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Initial angst, Steve and Peach, Bucky’s anxiety. No time for nookie! Flirting Intimations of sexting and phone sex. Praise kink, fluffy Bucky, horny Bucky, dom Bucky. F@cking versus making love, wall time, sex with clothes on, raw p in v, creampie, after care, intimations of oral (f receiving!) dirty talk, Bucky applies for a second job. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

————

You walked along the sand and inhaled the ocean air.

You were shaken to the core. 

Bucky Barnes had surely just taken your parents out to ask for your hand in marriage. But it was so soon, how could he be so sure?

Also, you were an independent woman. How dare he talk to your parents before he asked you to marry him!

He wasn’t your feudal lord.

You were scared witless and turned to the waves to try and calm down. 

“He loves the hell out of you, you know.”

Steve had fallen in beside you as you stared at the ocean. You looked up at him, trying to smile, but failing. To Steve you looked terrified.

“It’s just so….”

Steve smiled to himself, remembering that Bucky had purchased the ring weeks before, after just a few days of knowing you. But that wasn’t his story to tell.

“Just know that I’ve never seen him like this. And I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s never been so open, so determined with a woman before. You make him a better man. It’s truly amazing.”

Steve looked so earnest. Your cousin had done quite a number on him.

“You don’t have to be scared. You are ‘The One’ for him.”

This time you managed a smile and an arched eyebrow. You had a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about his best friend.

Steve chuckled.

“Gah. Don’t look at me like that. You and Peach and that eyebrow.”

You laughed at that and grinned, more relaxed now.

Steve looked off into the waves himself.

“So fucking cute…”

He looked down and kicked a rock, a small smile on his face. You could tell he had it bad.

“Thanks for the pep talk Steve-o. And I get what you’re saying. I love Bucky Barnes with all my might, making every other relationship I’ve ever had seem… trivial.”

You glanced at Steve, who was nodding at your sentiment.

“I’m just spooked at the possibilities. I mean…this seems…like a lot.”

“I know. Bucky gets intense.”

You rolled your eyes at him. 

“Understatement of the year. And you’re a lot like your friend.”

Steve looked at you, one eye closed from the sunlight in his eyes. He didn’t have any sunglasses and the sun highlighted his windswept hair and the planes of his handsome face. You were squinting at him and you could totally see why Peach let him touch her goodies. 

Steve was kinda hot.

You sighed.

“Listen. I’ll be alright. Bucky and I just need to chat.”

Steve smirked.

“Chat. Is that what the kids call it now?”

You laughed and swatted him on the arm as you continued walking again.

“Fuck you, Steve. But for real. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it. And I love you for it. I just wish my cousin could see this side of you.”

Steve scoffed.

“Fucked that up good, didn’t I?”

“Not gonna lie, she’s kinda blinded by rage right now. But don’t give up on her. She’ll come around.”

Steve looked at you skeptically and you shrugged.

“80– 75% chance she’ll come around.”

You both laughed.

“Just remember what I said yesterday. She’s a tough nut, but she has a huge heart behind that wall. She is determined about the success of that dance school and she is competitive as fuck. You know what to do.”

Steve grinned. 

“Yes ma’am, I do.”

—-

You and Steve re-entered the kitchen laughing, you holding on to his arm. 

Peach was at the table drinking coffee and dedicated to ignoring Steve.

“Thanks again for the pep talk Steve. I appreciate it.”

You gave him a long hug and when you separated, you saw Peach’s eyebrow cocked in what you could only imagine was the way Steve described. You stifled a giggle and leaned up on your tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“You better stop before Bucky comes back and chops me in the throat.”

Peach humphed, and you knew exactly what she was thinking.

You laughed at Steve as he headed toward the stairs, ignoring Peach right back.

“I’m gonna go get my running shoes. A turn down the beach will help me get some of this tension out.”

You watched Peach as she watched Steve roll his neck and stretch on his way out of the room, her coffee stalled in mid air. Her head was on a swivel as he walked out of the room, checking out his formidable ass. She sighed and then remembered that you were there.

You looked at her and she looked at you.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I didn’t say a word, cousin. Yet. But we will talk later. Any coffee left?”

—-

The week ended up smoother than when Bucky and Steve arrived, and before you and he and Steve left on the jet back to New York, Bucky surprised everyone with an invitation to Vermont for Christmas. 

Your heart did a funny little thing because why would he invite your entire family on an all expense holiday vacation from Christmas Eve to New Years unless he was going to…

You couldn’t dwell on what ifs, and you didn’t want to spook yourself. You just decided to appreciate the moment.

It was funny watching your cousin’s face and the corresponding look on Steve’s. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be stressful at all.

Perhaps there would be entertainment.

—---

Later, back in Brooklyn, there was a whirlwind of activity as the Rebirth Foundation geared up for the annual summit and gala. 

During the second week in December, Rebirth Endowment recipients (which included your cousin this year!) flew in, were oriented and toured around New York City. The two culminating events were the summit, held at NYU, where there was an art lecture series, a panel, and the gala. 

Steve usually participated in the summit by himself, with Sam or Natasha sometimes joining him on stage along with the city’s movers and shakers in the art scene.

But this year Bucky was participating.

He said he wanted to be more prominent in the Art community moving forward as a path toward legitimacy, and you knew that tangentially, that had something to do with you.

When you got back from Thanksgiving, there was a week to prepare for the activities. Your Arts and Culture Alliance in Brownsville, as a part of Rebirth through the Howard Benson exhibit, was a stop on the tour, and you had a ton of work to do. 

Bucky and his three partners obviously had their own long list of to dos, but he also needed to be there for Steve, who was a wreck at the thought of Peach coming into town. 

Steve was so far gone.

But James Buchanan Barnes.

You’d never seen Bucky Barnes shook. 

Sure, you’d seen him excited, impatient, horny, angry, and a little irritated, but never truly nervous.

And you shouldn’t have thought it, but it was adorable. 

Friday night, you met your cousin at the airport and witnessed the beginning of her downfall. The cocktail reception later at the hotel had her, and by proxy your own, head spinning. 

You grinned at the way Steve was handling everything. 

Bucky was beautiful and you admired him as he toasted the guests, his beautiful tenor a nice contrast from Steve’s baritone as they both gave their salutations. Only you knew how anxious he was to speak in front of people and for everything to go well. You felt privileged.

You realized that James Buchanan Barnes was a good man who just wanted to be better for you and for his community.

And suddenly you were not afraid of a future with him.

—-

During this time, you two shared brief cuddles and quick kisses, furtive touches and brief bouts of handholding when you saw each other at events. The mornings meant salacious pictures and quick phone sex to take the edge off, but you weren’t able to luxuriate in each other as you usually did.

You missed Bucky’s full attention, but the fact that you were working together on something worthwhile was the shit. You loved this man and you wanted to work beside him as an equal, not just be his sex toy.

This was the week that you fell completely in love with Bucky Barnes.

Thursday was the day of the Rebirth Art Summit and Bucky was pacing up and down his home office, reading glasses switching locations from perched on top of his head, to his delectable mouth, to his handsome face as he reviewed his notes.

You looked up from the ones in your hands with which you were quizzing him and smiled at him.

“Jamie, it’s going to be okay.”

He stopped to look at you, a faint smile on his face. He came over and pecked you on the lips and gave you a hug.

“‘M so glad you are here tonight, even though you tried to stay away.”

You sighed into his chest and took a deep breath, inhaling his Bucky smell.

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I was just giving you space. I know tomorrow is important to you and I don’t want to distract—”

“Frumoasă. You don’t distract from anything. If anything, you add to my life. You add so, so much. I love you. And I miss you. I want you here with me tonight.”

You melted into him, chuckled and shook your head as he held you. This feeling was crazy.

“What?”

You heard his voice in his chest, but he didn’t move, except to sway just a little, as if soothing you. It worked.

“I love you too, Bucky. And I miss you too. So much. It’s wild to feel so much in such a short amount of time.”

You and Bucky had only been together about three months, but you knew this was it.

“When you know, you know, my love. And we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

You hugged him tighter. What was understood didn’t need to be said.

He kissed the top of your head and then moved back so he could see into your eyes.

“And having you in my space while I get ready for an important event is everything.”

You looked him in the eye, thinking of sucking his dick for being such a dream.

“Bucky…”

Bucky took your hand and raised it to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, Frumoasă. I will be forced to fuck you all night long, something that is long overdue.”

He kissed your forehead.

“But there is much work to do.”

You cast your eyes down and whispered, “You’re right.”

Bucky took you in, looking so demure and being so patient with him. It was such a turn on.

“Such a Good Girl for me.”

You wanted to fall to your knees, but you just bit your lip and went to sit back down, crossing your legs as you began quizzing him again. 

Soon, you told your pulsing pussy. Soon.

You worked late into the night and soon dozed on the leather couch in his study. The next morning, you woke in Bucky’s bed with a sweet note on your pillow. You smiled and knew that he’d carried you to bed and held you all night long.

—--

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

You sucked your teeth at your cousin’s comment, but you didn’t pull your gaze away from Bucky up on the dias the next day at NYU. 

You were proud and in awe of your man. Your smirk turned into a grin as he glanced at you and started to speak.

You were down bad. And Bucky was too. After almost two weeks with little to no physicality, your energy was at supernova strength and about to cause a black hole in the universe.

That’s how intense this thing was. 

You were wet and hard and soft in all the right places.

Bucky had to pause frequently for the interpreter, and it gave you a chance to make googly eyes at each other. You ignored Peach’s subtle retching noises as you concentrated on Bucky. But you cut your eyes over to her while Steve spoke and found her visibly eye fucking him. You smirked when she noticed you noticing.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

She was trying to distract you. You laughed.

“Fucking-A.” 

You nodded up at the stage.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You were shocked as hell when she responded.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

You elected not to tease her about her response. It seemed as if Steve was working the plan.

You resumed watched as Bucky did his thing. He was glowing, handsome and impressive as hell. No one would believe he was as introverted as he was. But he was flourishing in the spotlight, seemingly born for his. He exuded confidence. 

It was such a turn on.

—-

Bucky watched you watching him and talking to your cousin and knew your tells. You were probably wet and ready for him. He briefly thought of what he was going to do to you later before he refocused on the task at hand. Knowing you were there for him was such motivation.

When he made his way back over to you, you were an angel, giving him a huge hug and exclaiming, “You were so fucking good up there, Jamie! I’m so proud of you.”

Bucky felt his heart explode and although someone was pulling him away from you, he mouthed a promise in your direction.

—-

“Later...”

You definitely read those sexy lips and your heart started racing. You looked around for your cousin, expecting to be roasted, but she was nowhere to be found. You shrugged and made your way to the subway, assuming that she was gathering with the other recipients. There was more work to do in Brownsville and you were busy anticipating the night.

You waited all day for Bucky’s text to tell you what time Nico was picking you up, but it never came. The rest of the day flew by and by the time you were walking home, daydreaming of dressing up for the gala tomorrow night and what Bucky might wear, you happened to check your phone and saw messages he’d sent just 10 minutes before:

You looked so good today. Especially this morning. Good enough to eat.

I’ll be at your place in 30. Wear that bra, no top, that skirt, no panties, and those heels.

You blushed and thought of the mirror selfie of the cream lace lingerie set you were wearing underneath your cream colored cowl neck sweater and grey wool pencil skirt that matched your grey wool coat.

Yes, Daddy, you replied and picked up the pace to make it to your brownstone ahead of him, your heart beating a mile a minute.

You thought you were prepared when you opened the door after Bucky knocked, but you weren’t.

In fact, you were shaking with anticipation.

There he was, bundled up from the cold, but those blue eyes sparkling down at you.

Bucky stared at you for a beat, and then walked toward you, taking your face in his hands and backing you up against the entryway wall, kicking the door closed behind him.

“My Frumoasă. So good. So perfect”

And then he leaned down and kissed you.

—-

Bucky had the strangest thought as you opened your door.

I’m home.

Although this was not his place, he realized that you were his home and that he couldn’t wait to make you his wife. His eyes swept down your form, pleased that you had followed instructions. You were such a badass, capable woman and partner and he just had to be inside you soon. 

He complimented you and his cock stiffened as your mouth parted in desire. He knew your praise kink very well. Bucky cradled your beautiful face and moved inside to kiss you.

His demanding mouth parted your trembling lips, sending tremors through your body. You clung to the lapels of his coat to tether you to earth as his tongue invaded your mouth. You suckled it, previewing what you wanted to do with his cock later. 

He pulled away, his bright blue eyes blazing, and his jaw clenched so tight as he shrugged out of his winter coat. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was angry, but the look was desire. 

And only for you. You grew warm from the inside out.

“I can’t wait. Wanna make love to you, but I have to fuck you now.”

Bucky bent his knees and grabbed your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and hold on to him as he walked you over to your couch.

You attacked his face as you were sat down firmly on the bulge in his pants and Bucky accepted your assault, chuckling as you kissed him from his hairline, to his forehead, down his nose, each cheek, skipping over his lips to his stubbly dimpled chin and finally back to that mouth. When he kissed you again, his hands were everywhere, starting at the nape of your hair, pulling so your neck was exposed as his mouth moved down to mark you up, then trailing down to your fine lace bra cups.

Bucky palmed your full breasts, weighing them in his hands and watching your face as he twisted your nipples. You nipples tightened under his touch and you arched your back, moving and giving him a view of what was underneath your skirt. He admired your ardor, you squirming and moaning on his lap.

It was his dream come true.

“So fucking hot, Frumoasa. I’ve been craving you. All day. All week. Ever since Thanksgiving. Since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Bucky…need you.”

You grasped the lapels of his jacket as his hand traveled down your torso and as he leaned down to travel under the hem of your skirt. Your soft fingers peeled his jacket away and unbuttoned his shirt. You opened it and ran your hands down his chest, rubbing his nipples with your thumb and trailed your hand down to his happy trail and proceeded to try and undo his belt buckle.

Bucky grew hot at the warmth of your thick thighs and the way your cunt was so hot that he could feel it through his pants. 

He had to have it. 

Panting now and desperate, Bucky tugged your skirt up, flashing your bare pussy, but it was difficult to get rid of because it was still buttoned. It slipped out of his hands and he grunted in frustration.

“Ah, poor baby…” 

You leaned forward, brushing the locks of hair that had fallen into his flushed face, grazing your nipples across your chest with a sexy smile.  Bucky whimpered and you smirked at his desperation. You slowly reached behind you to your zipper, pushing your chest toward Bucky’s face. He licked his lips and pulled your bra cups down, causing your warm breasts to spill out and his hands to be drawn to them again like magnets as he watched you loosen your skirt.

When you grabbed the hem to bring it over your head, he released you, watching as the fabric moved above your crotch.

Your pussy. Fuck.

Bucky could never get enough of staring at it, the dark petals, which were spread open for him as you sat on his lap were calling his name. He licked his lips, suddenly parched.

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted, no needed, to hear Bucky’s voice right now. You reached behind you again as you unclasped your bra and suddenly you were naked on an essentially fully dressed Bucky Barnes.

It was sexy as hell. 

“I’m thinking that your pussy is a work of art, Frumoasă. It’s perfect. I’m thinking that I want to spend at least eight hours a day between your legs, make you cum over and over again, make you beg me to stop, and to start again. How I want you to taste you and make you squirt so I can swallow you down…”

You moaned and started grinding on his bulge, causing Bucky to curse.

“Damn, Baby. You’re gonna make me jizz in my pants like a teenager.”

Bucky grabbed your ass and reached between you to tease your clit, feeling how wet you were.

“Fuuuuuck, you’re so wet.”

Bucky’s eyes rolled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you to your knees on either side of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled them and his underwear just down past his ass to get his cock out. He grabbed your cheek as he stroked himself and rubbed his thick cock head in your juicy pussy.

“Fuck me Frumoasa. Slide down this dick for me.”

You brushed Bucky’s hair off his forehead again as you nodded and started to slide down his fat, hard cock. Your head lolled back on your neck as you reached the root of him.

“Oh… Bucky… Fuck….”

You could feel Bucky pounding inside you, long thick cock battering your cervix and you whined, leaning back and working your hips as Bucky fucked up into you and thumbed your clit while the other hand guided you up and down his dick. 

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were shining as he looked up at you. You knew he was close and you couldn’t take it.

He started to speak and you knew it was over.

“Frumoasă. I-I’m gonna need you to… oh holy fuckkkkkk!”

His stutter made you start to cum.

As soon as your pussy started spasming around him, Bucky started shooting his spend all over your warm walls causing you to convulse and hug his head to your chest. He clutched you to him, whimpering as he held onto you for dear life as he came.

He collapsed backwards, taking you with him as you became boneless in his arms. You rolled off of him and curled up on the couch as Bucky stood and untangled himself from his clothes.

You closed your eyes for a minute as he got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth to clean you up. When he finished, he kissed your forehead and gathered you up in his arms.

“You turn me on like no one else, Frumoasă. You’re it for me. I love you.”

You cuddled into him as he lay you in your bed.

“Me too, Bucky. You’re my one. I love you, too.”

Bucky kissed your forehead again, and then proceeded to move down your body.

“Good, now. I need to clock into my main occupation. Hour one of eight.…”

—-

If you like it, hit Reblog! ☺️

Read the next part, Peach IV (SR)

[mbbmz]

HEY IM BACKK🤭 Wakasa has been on my mind the past days (he deadass appeared in my dream💀) So I got a request where Wakasa is friends with reader and secretly likes her but hides it really well. So when the 1st gen bd drink together and Waka gets drunk he won't get off her, hugging her n stuff and it eventually leads to a sleepy confession from him ykk🤭 The others all tease him the next day for it😭 (sry if this is kinda long)

Omgg hi again! I’m so glad you decided to request again (I love Wakasa)

Your requests are always interesting ml heheheheh, even though I’m not really proud of this one, I still hope you’ll enjoy it (and sorry for the wait)

No warnings, alcohol consumption (a bit too much in this instance) fluff and crack

Every time you changed something about your appearance, no matter how small it was, no matter how many of your friends didn’t notice, Wakasa always did. Might be the slightest change in your hair or makeup, you’d always receive a "It suits you well" or "That’s a nice change". He would always carry that bored expression as he says it, as if he didn’t really care. But how would he notice such small details if he didn’t?

Of course he cared. He was your best friend after all. You called him that, others called you that, he called himself that. Even if those words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Yet he’d never act on it. He was content with what he had, content with the proximity you two shared. Even though he wanted more, he swallowed back all his feelings. Because Wakasa, as much as he didn’t like to admit it, was scared to lose you. So he swallowed back the lingering touches he wanted to give you, any comments that could appear as "too much", for the sake of your friendship. One he would continue to cherish, even if that meant settling for less than he wanted.

- "Come on, just one drink!"

You rolled your eyes. Currently, you were downplaying the invitation of your friend, really insistent to get you to drink with the small group tonight.

- "Dont insist, Omi… I have work tomorrow…"

It was Takeomi’s turn to roll his eyes.

- "Just live a little… beside…"

A small smirk appeared on his face. You were almost, almost curious as to what he was about to say.

- "I don’t believe you’ve ever seen Waka getting drunk…"

Your annoyed rambling about work stopped for a second. He was right, your best friend, the one you’ve known since so long… Have never been drunk in front of you. And you couldn’t deny that the thought made you curious. What kind of drunk was he? Emotional drunk? Tired drunk?.. Yeah, definitely that…

After a few seconds of thinking, you sighed, you couldn’t deny one drink sounded nice.

- "One drink…" You finally indulged, watching his smirk widen

- "You won’t regret it… it’s actually pretty fun to watch…"

On those words, you started walking toward the bar you often went at, where the others were probably already waiting.

And when Takeomi told you it would be fun to watch, you didn’t expect that. And based on his expression, he didn’t either.

You were trying to drink in your now half empty glass, but you found it difficult to do so, as a pair of strong arms were wrapped around your figure.

- "I’ve… never seen him like this before…" Stated Shinichiro, sitting across of you. In his eyes was a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

At this point, all the eyes around the table were on you, more precisely on the man clutching at your side. Wakasa Imaushi, the White Leopard, Black dragons founding member and first generation Special attack Unit captain, THE living legend… Clinging to you like a lost child.

- "N-No one- hic -can touch her… ‘xcept me…" He mumbled, eyes closed and face red from all the shots he had.

You were torn. You’ve never seen him like that, with you or with anyone. And your best friend being so clingy, so… touchy… felt weird. But at the same time… it wasn’t a bad kind of weird.

- Waka… I think I’ll drive you home…

As you muttered those words, you felt his grip tightening. Goddamnit was he strong. You winced slightly, trying to get him off, to no avail.

- "Can someone… Help me out here?.." you asked, a bit annoyed at the lack of reaction from your friends

The three guys exchanged looks, before looking back at you.

- "I mean… you heard him." Started Takeomi, a sly grin on his face

- "No one can touch you except him!" Finished Keizo, raising his hands to support his words

You rolled your eyes, hearing the three of them laughing like degenerates. Unbelievable.

You had to find something though. You wanted to go home, too. Yet it was proven difficult with the bag of muscles holding you tightly.

You sighed, looking at his slumped form, trying to find something to get him off.

- "… Hey Waka… Let’s go home, mhm?.." You tried to bargain, with seemingly no success.

- "N-Nah… M’staying… with you…" He mumbled, his speech almost incomprehensible.

You sighed sighed again. You definitely wanted to go home, getting a bit tired yourself.

- "… Wanna sleep at my place?.." You asked, as all eyes on the table landed on you, even his. You felt a need to denfend yourself to your peers.

- "N-Not like that! I’m not that kind of person!" You tried to defend yourself

- "That’s really inappropriate. I wouldn’t have taken you for the type…" Teased the black haired mechanic, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

- "Mhmm… Take me home, love…"

Your eyes widened, as everyone else’s. You looked down at your lap, eyes landing on a very sleepy Waka, nuzzling your thigh.

- "… Yeah, I’ll take him home… He’s… not in his right mind…" You muttered, trying to calm the emotions he provoked by calling you that.

- "Heh, you know what they say… A drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts!"

You glared at Takeomi, who was laughing his ass off with your other friends. They wouldn’t let that die down easily…

You called a cab, trying to walk with a grown ass man clutched at your hip. Quite a humorous sight, really.

The drive wasn’t long thankfully, and you managed to drag the drunk man in your bed. You were too tired to do anything else, crashing on the mattress next to his unconscious form. You were about to fall asleep, when his voice caught your attention.

-" ‘Meant it, y’know… I don’t… wanna be your friend… wanna be more…"

You listened to his drunken confession, your own eyes fighting to stay open and focused on his relaxed face.

- "Wanna… hold you and… do shit couples do, I dunno…"

A small silence followed his words, lingering in the air. You looked at him one last time, before your eyes closed on their own.

- "G’night, Waka…"

The only answer you received was the sound of his slow breathing and light snores. You would deal with that tomorrow…

- "Hey, "love"! Mind grabbing me a beer?" Teased a certain black haired man, as your now boyfriend was glaring at him, fighting the urge to smash his head on the coffee table.

- "Takeomi I swear to god…" He warned, pinching the bridge of his nose as you let out a small chuckle.

He could now hold you, kiss you, and do plenty of other shit couples do.

[bellarkeselection]

Okay so Ryan and Dutton!reader are engaged and she finds out he got branded after the whole Colby and Teter thing. That kinda the basis of what I was thinking 🤔

The Ranch Brought Us Together

“I understand that your father doesn’t really want big events at the ranch. So I’m just hear to tell you that it wouldn’t be huge. Just our normal crowd and my parents would be coming into town.” I quickly followed the heels of Beth Dutton who was walking to her car to go to work.

She opened her car door stepping inside responding to me. “Y/n, you have been loyal to my father almost as long as Rip has.”

“Yeah but it’s his ranch and I don’t want to feel like we are overstepping with trying to do even a small wedding here-“

She touched my arm, giving me a half glaring smile. “Which means he will say yes. I know you’ve already asked him and he said possibly but don’t panic I’ll make sure and sweeten the deal where he definitely agrees. Now get out of my way, I’ve gotta go ruin someone’s day.” She shut the car door and drove down the driveway leaving me standing there by the wooden fences.

My fiancé worked for John Dutton for a few years now. We actually met and fell in love while working here at the ranch. Tucking some hair behind my ear that had come out of my ponytail I heard someone coming in my direction where I spun on my feet. “Ryan! You’re never done with work this early.”

“You’re right I ain’t done with my day. I just could wait any longer till I got to see you for a little bit.” Ryan pulled the reins of his horse to a stop, dismounting his horse coming over to hug me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck hugging him back. I smiled leaning my head against his chest until I pulled back seeing something sticking out of his shirt that was opened. “Wait a minute. Did you get hurt?”

“No I didn’t.” Ryan answered, tiling his head down to meet my gaze.

Moving my hands up his chest I threaded my fingers through his jackets and the open section of his jacket. Pushing the fabric apart my eyes landed on a red Y symbol on his right side of his chest. “Then what the hell is this, Ryan!”

Ryan lowered his gaze down to the symbol that I had exclaimed about. “Oh that. I got it after…after some guys hurt Colby and Teter the other day.”

“Ryan, I ... .don't scare me like that.” I sighed heavily laying my head on his chest staring at the fresh red mark that was slowly healing.

I had gotten the brand a few months after Rip had done it after he accidentally killed one of the other workers when they talked back about John’s daughter. I knew it meant you never left here and it was an honor with the ones who got a second chance. But we hadn’t talked about him getting it. “I’m sorry, babe. It all just happened so fast and you have been busy planning our wedding. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Well you did.” I hit his chest, shoving him away from me beginning to walk away from him. “You know what I can’t marry you after this.”

Ryan gasped rushing forward, snatching my arm. “Y/n, hang on. I’m sorry - shit please don’t not marry me.”

“Ha! Ryan you idiot. I’m not breaking off our engagement. I could never do that cause I love you too much.” I tugged my wrist from his hand slapping my hands on his knees.

Ryan removed his hat from his head running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck that’s a relief.”

“Hey you know something we’re matching now.” I unbuttoned the top of my shirt tugging down the right side of my shirt. His eyes found the same mark that he had seen on me previously in life the first time we had sex. “We’re now connected in love and in our work life.”

Ryan sets his hat on top of my head, looping his arm around my waist pulling me up against him. “That doesn't sound too bad to me. I love you.”

“I love you too.” I grinned up to him, kissing him slowly. He kissed me back before he had to get back on his horse and go back to work. The Dutton ranch was our forever home.

[katsukiswiife]

Authors note: sorry i haven’t been uploading, i’ve been kinda busy lately but i’ll try to be more active, requests are still open ! 

Homelander x fem reader

Semi-public sex, fingering, rushed! reader getting chased by homelander, lmk if i missed anything :3 

You were running, you don’t know for how long, all you knew was that you needed to keep running. 

It started off as fun- but being chased and running for fun quickly turned to running for your life.

You and homelander had been going on a walk in the forest- simply just to ease your head, feel comforted by each others presence, but when things got really playful and you agreed to play a game where he would chase you through the forest and you had to do your best to hide- things quickly took a dark turn.

You didn’t think homelander would take it this seriously- its not like you were scared if him, but you had to admit, having him chase after you in the middle of the forest when its staring to get dark out with his red glowing eyes was pretty fucking terrifying.

You were getting tired, and decided it was best to hide instead of continuing running. One of the rules in this… “game” was that he couldn’t use his x-ray vision, you weren’t really sure if he was gonna follow that rule though..  

there was a massive bush in front of a tree that could block you if you hid behind the tree, so you decided to suck up how tired you were and ran up to it, making sure homelander didn’t see you.  

Sitting down behind the tree was possible one of the best things that had happened the last hours, your legs were aching so much you knew you had to rest the second you got home.

“come out come out wherever you are~”

you heard him call out from behind, you peeked from behind the tree, making sure he couldn’t see you and saw him as he walked slowly up the trail, his eyes glowing red as some sort of flashlight.

You turned your head slowly back behind the tree, staying as quiet as you could. 

“Gotcha”

before you could even react homelander had put you to your feet and grabbed your hands above your head, pinning you.

“you really think you could get away? from me?” he said laughing menacingly.

Your heartbeat was pounding loud and fast, not knowing what he had in store for you.

“Y’know.. you weren’t that bad, i mean, obviously i would’ve found you if i used my x-ray vision but it doesn’t really matter, what matters is that you learn your lesson..”

He turned you around, hand still holding your hands above your head, pinned to the tree, your back arched.

“You should’ve seen this coming, wearing that sundress was a bad idea.. you just had to put on thigh highs too, didn’t you?” he said, his hand resting on your waist.

“i-im sorry” was all you could muster out, he laughed at you out of pity, you were completely vulnerable to him and he loved it.

“Let’s not waste anymore time” he said before pulling your panties down and slicing them, throwing them god knows where. 

You stayed silent, the closest thing to a word was either a whimper or soft moan.

You felt his finger trace from your clit all the way back, sticking the tip of his finger in you, teasing you.

You moaned softly and arced your back as he put his finger in, curling it and hitting your g-spot.

“Gosh, look at you.. so fuckin pathetic” he said softly before pulling out his finger and licking it clean, groaning at the taste and grabbing your hip with his hand while the other kept your hands pinned to the tree above your head.

You heard his zipper open and heard him groan at the feeling of what you could only guess was the relief from holding his cock in his now tight suit.

He put the tip to your hole before slowly pushing in, groaning lowly earning a soft moan from you.

“f-fuck- a-ahh~” you moaned out at the feeling if his stretching your pussy before he pulled out and slammed in again.

“So fuckin wet for me, aren’t you?” he groaned as he fucked into you.

“N-ngh- ahh~ fuckk” you moaned out, he was guaranteed to leave bruises on your hip thats for sure.

He sucked and bit your neck to your shoulder while you moaned out his name, probably scaring whatever animals were nearby.

He kept fucking into you, keeping a fast pace and enjoying all the sounds you made from his cock fucking you. 

“I-i cant- ‘m gonna-“

“Hold out for me, just a little while longer, wanna cum with you” he whispered in your ear as he thrusted into you faster and harder then before, his pace getting sloppier by the second.

“C’mon, cum with me, cum with me baby” he whimpered as you came onto his dick, moaning out as he filled you up with his cum, dripping down your legs, drenching your socks.

You stood there for a while, him still inside of you before pulling out and finally letting go of your hands.

You turned around to look at him before wrapping your arms around him and kissing him, which he gladly accepted.

“Fuck, that was..”

“Amazing” he continued, before patting your butt as a sign to wrap your legs around him before jumping and flying off and going home to take a long, cozy bath. 

[desertteagles]

╰───► like it’s our last - e. williams

drabble.

Pairing - bbf!ellie x fem! reader

Synopsis- your brothers back from college and he brings his best friend since childhood back with him. you’ve realized you have a crush on her and sworn you wouldn’t act on it, fearing your brothers disapproval. ellie also has been harboring feelings for you but promised to not make a move per your brothers request.. especially since ellie’s kind of a player.

warnings- no smut this time </3 but little angst ig…, uhhhh idk i think that’s it.. was gonna make this a oneshot (that’s why the punctuation is sorta kinda good) but i decided NAWT to so here !

a/n well um… hi guys ! i’ve been gone for a year my bad chat 😞

U nfortunately, today was the fucking day. Now, usually, you’re happy whenever your brother decides to visit home, but this time he’s bringing an unwanted (very wanted) guest that you’ve been kind of avoiding, in order to not run your big ass mouth.

Ellie was annoying as fuck. That didn’t stop you from developing a crush on her, though, and you hated yourself for it. It was just... she’s so pretty with her stupid green eyes and veiny hands, and her pretty hair that’s always in that fuckass bun, and her... “Wait, what the fuck. Stop thinking about her, oh my god,” you groaned, putting your face in your hands. Unsurprisingly, you could never seem to keep her from getting stuck in your mind. It was a never-ending cycle of “I don’t even like her; she just has a nice face,” to “Why the fuck am I lying? I want her so bad,” battling it out in your head ever since you realized there might be something more than just annoyance toward her because she was your brother's best friend. Which also opens a whole new can of worms that you really don’t have the mental capacity to deal with.

You see, your brother is very, very, very overprotective. It was so bad that you couldn’t even bring up liking celebrities around him, which was absurd, so you had to tell him to back off (he never really did). Ellie, being the player that she is, definitely tried to get your brother's blessing to pursue you back in high school, but he naturally shot her down with a vicious and explicitly detailed description of how he’d kill her and hide the body if she ever tried anything with you, which effectively scared her from even looking at you for a while. Obviously, that didn’t last long because she became this annoying nuisance of a human being, and it ground your gears until she finally left for college with your brother, giving you a much-needed break.

the break didn’t last long because for some odd reason you thought it was the greatest fucking idea to stalk her social media. Granted, you did it out of hate (it wasn’t hate) so it’s really not your fault that seeing her posts made you start looking at her in a different light. But now she was back. And this time, you have this added knowledge that she’s hot as fuck and you don’t really think you will be able to function around her.

You paced around your room, hands in your hair, agonizing over what the fuck to wear ever since you learned Ellie was visiting with your brother today. It was like some kind of cosmic joke — the universe giving you just enough time to forget how much you liked her before slamming her right back into your life.

You could hear the muffled sound of your brother’s laugh from downstairs. Your stomach twisted, nerves kicking in. You peeked out of your bedroom window and, sure enough, there was Ellie, leaning against the car, hands shoved in her pockets, that fuckass bun sitting low on her head. She was talking to your brother, but you barely registered him — all you could focus on was her smirk, the way her eyes squinted when she laughed, how the light from the sun caught on her freckles. Now that made you make a face, “ew why the fuck am i thinking like a poet.”

“Gotdammit,” you muttered to yourself. “Get it the fuck together.”

Your heart was racing, but you couldn't tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe both…. definitely both.

A sharp knock on your door yanked you out of your thoughts, and before you could even answer, your brother barged in. “Hey, Ellie’s here,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “Come down and say hi, don’t be weird.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the weird one, you are. and plus i have to finish getting ready! i’ll be down in a second, get out!”

He rolled his eyes. “Just be normal for like five minutes, when you come down okay? I know you guys have this weird rivalry or whatever the fuck but its been like a year so please.”

“fine, but if she starts her shit don’t say anything.” you mumbled, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. “fuck me.” you sighed and turned to finish getting ready.

—

As soon as you hit the bottom step, Ellie’s eyes locked on yours. That familiar spark of mischief shined in her gaze. She tilted her head slightly, grinning in that infuriatingly, cocky way that always made your knees a littttle weak.

“Hey,” she said, her voice soft but teasing, as if she already knew the effect she had on you. Which she couldn’t know… right? Right.

You swallowed hard, trying to act unfazed. “Ellie.”

Her grin widened, and for a split second, you could’ve sworn she looked you up and down. Almost like she was checking you out. weird. “Long time no see,” she said, stepping forward and pulling you into a quick, unexpected hug.

Your brain short-circuited for a moment, and when she let go, you were left standing there, blinking like an idiot, your skin buzzing from where her hands had briefly touched your back.

“It’s barely been a year. but yeah, long time,” you managed, trying desperately to sound casual but instead sounding like a dying cat.

—

The next couple of hours were spent catching up and you watching ellie and your brother play Call of duty.. or was it fortnite? you can’t really remember. all you can seem to focus on is how ellie’s hands look around the controller and how good they’d look around your ne- “hey. are you.. okay?” you jumped a little at being pulled from your thoughts by ellie and slowly realized how long you were staring at her hands. “oh um yea.. totally,” you chuckled nervously and turned your attention back to the TV trying to ignore Ellie's burning gaze on the side of your face. Like usual, your brother was oblivious to anything but that damn game, trash talking like crazy, while you kept sneaking looks at Ellie after that embarrassing ass moment. She didn’t seem to mind though; in fact, she seemed to enjoy catching you staring. Every time you glanced her way, she was already looking, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

At one point, you found yourself in the kitchen, you were hungry as fuck and being a third wheel didn’t exactly curb your hunger. Unfortunately, Ellie walked in not too long after you, her presence immediately making the room feel smaller.

“So,” she said, dragging the o and leaning against the counter with that same smirk. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You froze, almost crushing a chip that was making its way into your mouth in your hand. “What!? No, I haven’t. You're actually delusional, I don't know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Rightttt. I'm totally delusional.”

You turned to look at her, grabbing another chip out of the bag to eat before pausing and saying, “Okay, maybe I have. But it’s not purposefully !”

Ellie took a step closer, and you had to force yourself to keep breathing. “Oh really?”

“Yes really! I have literally no reason to avoid you. Don’t be dumb. i’ve just been busy with getting my esthetician license.. ” You bit your lip, trying and failing to seem calm. God, this was the exact situation you were trying to avoid. You wanted to tell her off, make her stop questioning you, but honestly… you kinda missed her (you’d never admit this out loud) and it was nice talking to her. Not to mention looking at her lips while she talked was one of your favorite pastimes.

Ellie took another step forward, so close now that you could smell her — that familiar mix of leather and something earthy. It was distracting as hell, and you loved hated it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in your chest.

“Busy with your esthetician license, huh?” Ellie’s voice was low, almost mocking, as if she knew how much of a lie that sounded like, even if it was mostly true. “that’s hilarious because you seemed to have plenty of time to stare at my hands earlier.”

Your face burned instantly. “I wasn’t staring,” you blurted, probably a little too fast.

Ellie’s smirk widened, her eyes flicking down to your hands fidgeting with the chip bag. “Sure you weren’t.” She was enjoying this way too much, but instead of leaving you to drown in embarrassment, she stepped even closer, her gaze suddenly more intense, less mocking. “You know, I don’t typically care if you stare.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. Was she for real? You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest as you decided it’s now or never and maybe it’s time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

You leaned in, your eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, the playful tension between you both shifted into something else — something heavier. “is that right?” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur as you tucked a loose strand behind her ear with a smirk.

Ellie’s breath hitched and you saw a blush spread across her face like crazy. She was not expecting you to reciprocate her teasing. In fact, she thought you would get too flustered to even think. You giggled at her stunned face, body still alight with nerves and your mind screaming did i really just do that??? The room felt impossibly small, and you couldn’t focus on anything but how close she was. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the way her gaze flickered down to your lips for just a second before snapping back to your eyes.

“I—” you started, but before you could even finish, your brother’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, causing you to jump back from Ellie in surprise.

“Ellie, you better be keeping your hands to yourself…” he called from the living room, his tone half-joking but you could tell he wasn’t.

Ellie groaned in annoyance at the interruption. She raised her hand as if to hold yours but faltered at your confused expression, and dropped it with a sigh “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, as she turned toward the living room. “Jesus Christ.”

[loui3e]

Guilty Pleasure

It’s been awhile since you’ve turned up the dial’

Worst!Logan x Reader

Summary: After a first date gone wrong Logan finally confesses the truth.

A/n: I might make a smutty part 2 if you all enjoy this. Has been proofread.

Warnings: A sprinkle of angst, miscommunication (I know), all is solved in the end. Kinda suggestive.

Words: 795

First dates are odd things.

Scary even, especially with a man who you think doesn’t want a bit to do with you.

You’re convinced Wade put him up to this because there’s a scowl permanently etched into his facial features.

You won’t let this get you down though, I mean you’re still on a date with a man that you’ve had a massive crush on since he’s moved in next door. Better than nothing you suppose.

You sip your milkshake, your hands awkwardly tapping the table in an attempt to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“What do you do?”

Your head shoots up, eyes wide. That’s the first time he’s spoken since you’ve arrived to this diner besides telling the waiter what he wanted. His words are gruff, almost reluctant but its words nonetheless.

“Uh, what do I do? Um, art.” You stumble over your words, not use to the sound of your voice after all this quiet. Logan raises a brow from across you.

“Art?”

“Yeah, like I paint.”

“Traditionalist then?”

You chuckle and shake your head, “I guess so.” There’s a new bout of silence, a little more comfortable.

“What do you do?” You reflect the words back, a little happier than his. Shifting your plate out of the way and setting your head on your hand so your full attention is on him.

Logan wouldn’t consider himself a particular interesting person, sure he’s got some stories to tell but those are all circumstantial. But your eyes are on him; bright and curious.

You’re just a naturally curious person, but also partly crushing on him. He’s certainly handsome. You’ve seen him on the halls of your apartment complex, tall and broad. You could fantasise about him all day.

“Not much.”

Your daydream is cut short.

“Surely something?”

Logan’s fully realised he really doesn’t do a lot, now that he thinks about. He expects you to retreat back into disinterest but you don’t, you pry instead.

“Everyone has something, what’s your calling?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. That scowl sneaks back onto his face as he sits back against his seat arms crossed.

You think you’ve might’ve said something wrong, but not for long before the waiter comes over with the bill.

It’s not until you see him at a bar do you speak next, you haven’t really seen him since the date. “Logan,” you call as you take a seat beside him, smiling timidly.

He gives you a nod of acknowledgment. Logan feels a little bad for avoiding you after that date, but after your conversation he doesn’t quite think he’s worth your time.

“We hadn’t spoken after that date, I don’t wanna pry but did I say something wrong? I mean I know Wade put you up to this so you probably didn’t even want to go.”

“What? Wade didn’t put me up to this,” Logan speaks with hard honesty, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But I thought- you looked so disinterested.” You lean in closer to him, head cocked to the side. His eyes met yours and he feels a pang of guilt.

God, he’s an idiot, it didn’t even occur to him it he looked like that. “No, not at all,” he takes a swig of whiskey before continuing. “I just, haven’t been on a date in awhile. I don’t think you’d like me much once you got to know me.”

Your jaw falls open as you look at him before you start laughing. Relief washing over your features, and partly at the thought that you wouldn’t like Logan once you got to know him.

“Logan I’ve been crushing on you since you moved in, you can’t scare me off.”

“You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” Logan places a bill down onto the table for his drink before getting up to leave. He’s trying to put up a wall between you and him.

“Logan I’m serious,” you shout after him following him out of the bar. Logan turns on his heel to face you a before you can think you’re pulling him in by the lapels of his jacket and crashing your lips against his. You pull back, stunned.

“Oh my god, I didn’t even think-“ now it’s his turn to take you by surprise because his kissing you back. Your arms wrap around his neck, his walls crumble under your touch.

He tastes like cheap whiskey and smoke. An addictive taste that you’re sure you’ll be coming back for; like a cigarette.

“I guess you were serious,” Logan chuckles, breathing heavily.

“I can show you how even more serious I am, if you come back to mine,” you grin up at him, still wrapped up in his arms and the electricity of the moment.

“I’d like that.”

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[sundew199]

Let me

a/n: it's 9am...shame is nonexistent

tags: reiner x f!reader, virginity, submissiveish reiner, oral m!receiving, loss of virginity (reiner), cowgirl position, he’s a bit clueless but not annoyingly clueless

kinktober day one: virginity

!!minors DNI!!

“Have you really never slept with anyone?” 

Reiner shrugged, sipping the last of his drink and sliding it across back to the bartender, who silently asked if he wanted another, which he nodded in reply. 

“I mean I’ve gotten close, but.” Shying away at your brash question, wishing this could be a conversation elsewhere or not at all. 

“Define close.” You asked, leaning back in your seat with a knowing smile, needing to know how the hunk of a man in front of you hasn’t gotten laid at least once. 

“Can we talk about something else?” 

“Ugh come on, I’m just curious! How has someone as attractive as you not had a dozen or more women in your bed.” Shoving his shoulder playfully to try and get him to loosen up. Blame it on the alcohol but you weren’t convinced he hasn’t fucked before and shamelessly wanted the details, there was no way he didn’t fuck women’s brains out and leaving them begging for more. 

“I don’t know, just hasn’t happened.” Reaching for his refilled glass of bourbon from the bartender, contemplating if he should down it all at once to keep up with this conversation or savor it in hopes that you’ll drop it.

"Is it because you're nervous? Scared you'll mess something up?' Continuing on with your questions, even though the man beside you looked less than willing to indulge you, irritation settling into his guise.

"I really just want to drop it." Whipping his heard around to face you in the stool next to him, brows pinched with a thin-lipped frown.

Holding your hands up to surrender, you couldn't help but laugh a little. "Well, I'm always down to give you pointers, if you know what I mean."

Despite being initially irritated with you, Reiner broke out into the tiniest of smiles, understanding the playful humor in your words.

A couple weeks had passed since then, going about your life and occasionally talking to him. Reiner was your closest friend, meeting a couple of years ago through mutual friends between each other. At the time, you were dating someone and kept things respectful, even if you found him wildly attractive and wanted to climb him like a tree. Now you were single, living life with no pursuit of getting into a relationship, but your attraction to Reiner didn't go away, only seem to be inflamed since breaking up with your ex.

The hints you were dropping weren't doing the job like you wanted, Reiner was either clueless or brushing them off, not feeling the same towards you. But now knowing he was a virgin, scrambled things in your brain, made things even more confusing.

A night in on a Friday evening were your plans, catching up on some shows, tidying your place up a bit and just relaxing. That was until you received a cryptic text from Reiner asking if he could come over and get some help from you. Of course you said yes, not even know what it could be about, it's not like you were busy.

He looked flustered when you opened the door to your apartment, coyly smiling and slipping inside, going straight to the couch to sit. Not thinking too much of it, you joined him, crossing your legs underneath you and facing towards him.

"Everything okay?"

He sighed, placing his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. Reiner didn't say anything for a moment, both his legs bouncing up and down with nerves, making you turn slightly concerned for what this was about.

"I don't really know how to ask this, it's kinda embarrassing and I don't want it to ruin anything between us."

Nodding slowly, setting your half drunk glass of wine down on the coffee table, you looked at him.

"Can't be that bad, just ask." Smiling warmly, leaning into your fist on your temple.

Letting out another sigh, Reiner groaned, slouching into the couch and staring at the ceiling. He was flushed red, embarrassingly red from the way he spoke and how uncomfortable he looked sitting on your couch, something he's done a hundred times.

"I want some pointers." Murmuring under his breath, still looking at the ceiling.

Pointer? For what? That was so vague you couldn't begin to think of what he needed pointers on or for.

"Okay...? For what exactly?"

Sitting up, scooting to face you more, Reiner looked at you with a stern stone faced expression, like you were already supposed to know what he was talking about.

"When we were at the bar, and you offered pointers for, ya know." Kind of whispering when he spoke, like there were others in your apartment that could possibly hear what he was saying.

Blame it on the bit of wine you had, you stared at him a little blankly, trying to recall what he was talking about. That night was a little blurry as both of you were drinking, but when it finally hit you what he was referring to, your mouth shut and your eyes widened.

"Oh. You want "pointers" for that." Using air quotes around the word, attempting to be lighthearted but quickly seeing the embarrassment spread across his face. It was sweet the way he was asking, not trying to come off too blunt or wrong for what he was asking.

"I didn't know who else to go to and the conversation got me a bit, it's not your fault but I just want to know what to do if I ever get the chance." Sputtering out and stumbling on his words, Reiner somehow turned even more red and like he was ready to sprint out your front door to never return.

Letting out a breath, you scoot closer to him on the couch, watching him sit up straight and scan you over with his eyes. He was trying to psychoanalyze what you were going to do or say, nervous he overstepped the boundaries of your friendship and partially regretting bringing this up at all.

"I can help you, give you pointers. But you know for this kind of thing, physical teaching is best," Pausing to give him a reassuring smile and place a hand on his leg. "Is that something you want?"

Reiner swallowed thickly, adam's apple bobbing nervously and the gears behind his eyes turning in contemplation. You kept your line of vision on him, not moving a muscle till he gave you an answer. Deep down you hoped he would be okay with it, more than happy to show him how to please a woman and how to get pleasure of out of having sex with one. Indulgences aside, you would've been willing anyway, being such good friends for a couple of years now.

"Yeah, I'll do whatever you say, just teach me, please." Breathlessly replying, following your movements as you stood from the couch, holding out your hand to lead him to your bedroom. His large hand engulfed yours timidly, so warm against your skin it sent goosebumps up your arm.

Once the two of you were in your bedroom, he seemed to relax, only a little as he took off the jacket he wore and laid across the desk chair in your room. His biceps swelled against the fabric of his short sleeves, distracting you as you were trying to dim the lighting to better set the mood.

Patting the edge of the bed where you sat, Reiner shuffled over after kicking off his shoes, sitting with a little more distance than you'd like, scooting closer and running a hand over his chest. He stiffened, trying to gauge what you were doing.

"For the best experience, it's always better to build up to it, instead of jumping straight in. So, have you ever kissed or made out with someone?"

"A couple times yeah."

Humming, you moved your hand to hold the side of his face, turning him to face you completely, leaning in close. "Kiss me then, do whatever feels natural."

Reiner cleared his throat, bringing his hand to hold the side of your face as well, leaning in until his lips brushed across yours, just barely. You were going to let him lead for now, since he knew what to do right now, sighing softly into his lips when yours finally met. They were so plush and soft, not what you were expecting. He was still nervous as his kissed you with closed lips, but you teasingly swiped your tongue across his bottom one, getting him to part just enough to slot your lips together.

The hand on the side of your face moved to the back of your head as he got comfortable with the flow of your lips dancing together, running his other up and down your arm. Reiner was eager, or getting there as he didn't break away once. Your fingers tangled into the short blonde locks at the back of his hair, pulling yourself in closer, trying not to get ahead of yourself.

"Like that?" Whispering into the space between your mouths when he pulled away, breathing a little heavy from the extended lack of air.

"Mhm, keep going, do whatever feels right." Encouraging him with another smile, curious of what he would do next, whether that be hauling you into his lap or moving his lips to kiss along your jawline or neck.

Almost with hesitation, Reiner slipped the hand running up and down your arm under your thigh, indicating he was about to haul you into his lap. Helping him out, swinging your legs on either side of him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and bent down some to meet his lips again. He groaned oh so softly at that, resting his hands on your hips, making you thing he was going to scoot your further onto his lap instead of just sitting on his thighs. And surprisingly he didn't, keeping you right where you were and devouring your mouth eagerly.

Taking a bit of initiative yourself, you moved to sit right over his crotch, rolling your hips once and smiling at the surprised gasp behind his lips still pressed to yours. His eyes snapped open, the obvious question of 'what are you doing' swirling in his irises. Pulling away, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you smiled.

"Just helping in building the tension, getting us both worked up and needy."

A slow nod came, still nervous rather than confused, making you realize he hasn't gotten as far as you presumed he had. Knowing he was placing a lot if trust into your hands, you rolled your hips again, a bit firmer, watching him stifle a groan. He was growing hard beneath you, pitching a thick tent in his jeans and you could only imagine how uncomfortable it must've been.

"Here," Sliding down from his lap, reaching for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head. "Undress a bit, it'll feel better."

Instead of moving, Reiner's eyes hungrily traces over your chest, staring right at your bra and nearly missing you pulling your sweats down, left in only a bra and panties. He broke from the trance, unbuttoning his jeans after undoing his belt and ripping him off his legs, now much more eager as he was about to get a taste of something he's never had before. It was cute, endearing almost, making you feel like a predator closing in on its prey with solid intent. You swung your legs back over either side of him, hovering over his clothed erection as you slipped his shirt off yourself.

"If at any point you want to stop, just tell me." Running your hands on top of his shoulders, down his biceps and eventually to his hands to place them back on your hips, still hovering above him.

"I don't think I will but, I appreciate it." Breathily responding, looking at you with stars in his eyes, wetting his lips and craning his neck back to look up at you.

"Of course, but you'll communicate with me right, I don't want to do anything to make you uncomfortable." Teasingly lowering your hips, almost brushing your clothed cunt over his erection and seeing the anticipation run throughout his body, how much he was craving the touch.

"Yeah, I trust you. Just show me how and what I've been missing out on." God, his voice was so desperate sounding, yearning for the experienced touch and the knowledge that was within his grasp, dangled in front of him by you.

Softening, your fingers threaded through the back of his hair, finally sitting on his lap all the way, giving a roll of your hips and drinking in the sweet sound of his groan. His fingers dug into your hips, releasing quickly and palming the area instead. To keep him occupied and not distracted by new sensations, you smashed his lips to your, kissing him insistently, eagerly and with one goal in mind. Reiner melted to your touch, gaining a bit of confidence with his hands, allowing one of them to reach up to your neck and the other start to guide your hips back and forth. He was falling into bliss, on his way to getting drunk on lust, and that was exactly how you wanted him.

Pushing him back with a hand to his chest, you fell with him on the bed, reaching around to unhook your bra, sitting up and breaking the kiss so he could set his eyes on your tits. You cupped them proudly after your bra was tossed, giggling to his wide eyes and parted lips, letting your humming laugh turn into a moan when you tweaked your nipples with your thumb and index.

Gyrating slowly to a beat in your head, your thumb and index pinched and pulled on your nipples, turning them hard and pointed. Reiner couldn't help but reach a hand up, move one of yours out of the way and engulf the flesh in his hand. His palm was warm and gentle, his touch hesitant as he pressed the pad of his thumb down onto your hard nipple, earning a squeak from you.

"That okay?" Asking with concern almost, like he couldn't differentiate the noises you made just yet.

"Yea, just let your instincts guide you." Letting your head fall back, letting out a sigh of a moan as he rubbed his thumb in circles on your nipple.

It was then Reiner sat up on his elbows, craning his head to flick the tip of his tongue on the same nipple. To help him out, you bent forward, pushing your tit into his mouth and groaning in relief when he sucked and swirled his tongue around the bud. He caught on quickly and had the touch of someone who knew what they were doing, which was a welcomed surprise. He hummed into your skin, looking at you with the equivalent of doe eyes, checking in to make sure everything he was doing was right, so eager to please.

Running a hand through his thick blonde hair, pressing down hard on his clothed dick, you let your head fall back, squeaking out a whine or two.

"Reiner, fuck-"

He stopped, coming off with a pop and letting out a few heavy breaths. "W-what?"

"Keep going."

The relief coming over him at the realization that you were exclaiming in pleasure to his ministration and not the opposite, it was so sweet that he cared as much as he did.

He gripped the other one in his hand as his mouth, returned to sucking and swirling his tongue, getting more into it with the muffle of groans and twitching of his hips, which reminded you to resume what you were doing earlier. You didn't even have to see to know he was painfully hard, throbbing beneath his boxers from doing more than making out and fisting his own cock.

Pulling back just a little, you slipped his dick out of the waistband of his boxers, thumbing over the flushed red tip. Reiner audibly groans this time and pulls off of your tit, shaking as he inhales a few breaths. He watches as the pad your thumb swirl the bead of pre-cum around the head with rapt attention.

"Feels different from when I do it." Muttering under his breath, fingers curling into the fabric of your comforter.

" 'Suppose to, someone else's touch is always going to feel different, better."

Tightening your hand into a fist, you let it descend down to the base of his cock, getting a better idea of how thick he was. There was a considerable amount of length to him, but fuck was he thick. Even if it wasn't his first time, fucking into your tight pussy may send him over the edge after a few strokes.

"Such a pretty cock, nice and thick too." Idly commenting, lazily stroking him from base to tip, his face contorting in pleasure from your hand and the inner struggle of not releasing too soon.

"Won't hurt too much for you?"

"No. As long as there's prep neither of us will have to worry about anything." Smiling a little deviously, seeing as he was so blissed out that he hadn't caught on to your insinuation, which anyone else would've.

Sinking down to the floor on your knees, taking his boxers along the way, you hummed sweetly, eye to eye with his dick now. Running a long stripe on the underside of his cock, kissing the tip, you heard the man grapple with quieting the noises admitting from him. Eventually he wouldn't be so shy, wouldn't conceal those pretty moans and whines, letting whoever it was he was fucking enjoy knowing they were making him feel good.

Carefully reaching the tip after a few long stripes to the underside of his cock, you enclosed your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks out to harshly suck. His hips rutted, or tried to, as you began, whining under his breath and keeping his eyes trained on you. That pitiful look on his face with a hint of innocence still was making you press your thighs together. Reiner was already so attractive, but he looked so pretty like this, trapped under you metaphorically and literally here soon.

Knowing the head of his cock was good and sensitive now from your undivided attention to it, you opened your mouth and relaxed your throat, taking him all the way down and holding yourself there, inhaling the musk of his skin as your nose pressed underneath his naval.

"Oh fuck - shit." He cursed, clenching a fist and biting down on his knuckles as he met your eyes. They were watery and rapidly blinking while keeping the fat cock deep in your throat. Reiner gaped, huffing and puffing, doing everything in his power not to cum down your throat.

Humming around his dick, you moved to pull off, but not all the way. Bobbing up and down slowly, dragging your lips over the veins and ridges on the appendage granted you the sweet decadent whimper from the blonde man experiencing ecstasy for the first time. You didn't let up either, kept moving up and down, moaning around his cock and fluttering your eye lashes. Reiner had either made a mistake or the greatest decision coming to you for 'pointers', going out of your way to give him a hell of a first time to think back on.

"Wait! Stop I'm about...I'm about to cum." The plea was so strained and raspy, it sent shivers down your spin, reluctantly pulling off and letting the pre-cum and saliva drip down your chin.

"Sorry, I didn't want to cum in your mouth, rather do it somewhere else." Bashfully saying as he was still catching his breath, watching you stand up and slipping your sheer panties down your legs, kicking them aside.

"And where would that be exactly?" Teasing him even though you knew the answer, pushing him back by the chest until he scooted more onto the bed, moving to standing on your knees and pressing them into his hips.

Reiner's mouth opened and closed as he grappled with the answer, not wanting to say it aloud for whatever the reason may be. But you pressed by wrapping a hand back around the base of his saliva coated dick, leaning to hover over him, chuckling under your breath.

"Inside."

"Inside where?"

A displeased whine emanated from his tightly pressed lips, squeezing his eyes shut as you squeezed your hand around him.

"Inside your pussy." Reiner's words being so breathless and airy as he spoke, emphasizing the craving deep inside him to sink and stretch his cock around your plush inviting walls and who were you to deny him?

Releasing your hand from around him, you then moved to slide the sensitive tip of his dick through your folds, cooing at his overwhelmed reaction.

"When a girl rides you, it's always important to let her sit herself down, especially with your size, don't want to hurt her." Going back to advising him on future endeavor despite hating the idea of anyone else getting the privilege of riding his cock.

He nodded in response, tensing when the head slipped inside, sputtering out more groans and gasps. You bit down on your bottom lip to compose yourself, just the very tip of him stretching you out more than expected.

"Make sure to let her adjust too, don't just start slamming her down or up into her." Continuing on while slowly sinking down all the way, until he was bottomed out inside you. God he was bigger than he looked, feeling so fucking full and neither of you had moved yet.

"Fuck this feels so good, so tight oh my god." His beautiful face pinched in pleasure, letting his hands instinctively rest on your hips and caress the area as you adjusted.

"Feel how you expected?" Teasing as an arch in your back grew, raising your hips off of him half way and sinking them back down painfully slow.

"No, you feel so much better than I could've dreamt of baby."

Reiner caught you off guard for a second. Had you misheard him? There's no way he'd dreamt of fucking you like he just said, you swore he didn't even like you like, current situation aside. Deciding to not give it much thought, you resumed softly moving your hips up and down before you began to bounce, really not wanting him to cum too early. Though, the man was eager, gripping your hips and trying to move faster, chasing the sweet taste of relief.

Moving to bouncing up and down on his cock, you saw as something flip inside Reiner, confidence taking over and greediness swirling with the lust in those golden eyes of his. He grunted with each slam of your pussy, pushing his cock deeper inside you each time, prodding against your cervix it felt like.

"You're going to cum if you don't slow down." Doing your best to hide the moan hidden behind your words, not shy to admit being slammed down onto his cock didn't feel good. In fact it felt heavenly. His fat dick sliding and rubbing along your walls, stretching your pussy to take each stroke and bullying its way across the spongy spot inside you had you focusing not to cum too quickly and end this with him.

"Tryin' to make you cum," Reiner huffed, grasping your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, gritting his teeth as he concentrated on meeting your hips with his. You weren't expecting yourself to be loosing it as quickly as you were but, fuck it felt so god damn good.

"Fuck, then keep doing what you're doing, don't change anything just - keep fucking me." Letting your head dip, planting your hands on either side of his head and unleashing all the unfiltered noises that had been trapped in your throat.

First time or not, Reiner picked up on things quickly, once the nervousness of it all dwindled and he allowed his confidence to take the reins. You had to remind yourself to savor every second of this, not knowing if this would be the only time, but having a strong feeling it might be. Oh well. At least you were his first and not someone random, at least you were able to teach him a bit and prevent him from awkwardly stumbling around for his first time.

"Next time I want you to teach me how to eat that pussy of yours, get it nice and wet so I'll just slide right in." Growling right into your ear, bending on of his legs at the knees to give him a better angle to fuck into you.

"Wha?" So gone, barely understanding what he just said, partially not believing it.

"I still have a lot to learn don't I?" Now he sounded smug, a half smirk pulling on one corner of his mouth when you slightly turned to look at his face.

"I guess you do yeah." Giving him the same half smirk and slamming your hips all the way down unexpectedly, grasping his chin and holding it tight. "Now cum inside me like you said you wanted to big boy."

His eyes rolled back into his head, sucking in a sharp breath, keeping you flush to his hips as he vigorously rutted his hips up into yours, pushing the head of his cock to what felt like all the way to your stomach. You cried out, nails creating crescents in his skin as you moaned and writhed above him, reaching your own orgasm while adding fuel to his own until the rutting stopped and warmth filled the walls of your pussy.

A low deep groan came with each pulse and spurt inside of you, sweat beading at his hairline and neck, rolling down his glistening skin. When his hand released your hips, you slipped off of him, ruined and oversensitive pussy hovering over his cock, letting Reiner watch his cum leak out from your entrance and drip down onto his softening dick. He tried to get up, but you pushed him back down, shuffling to the bathroom to clean up and him when you got back.

You'd never seen him so relaxed, tired and content at once, sprawled out in the middle of your bed, catching his breath once again.

"After care is important, don't just fuck someone and leave." Gently running the warm damp wash rag over his lower body, cleaning up your combined messes.

"Yeah," Sighing contently, sitting up all the way and looking directly at you with the all too familiar bashfulness from earlier. "What I said when we were, um - if you don't feel the same way-"

Cutting him off with a press of your finger to his lips. "Let's talk about all that in the morning, we're tired and it's late."

Softening once again with a small relief, Reiner nodded, moving off the bed so you could pull back the comforter, slipping inside and snuggling up beside him into his chest with his arm wrapped around you, allowing the two of you to drift off to sleep.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Heeeeeeeelloooooo, you write so well, I'm not even joking, you're one of my favorite ones on this app, I know you would write about the sister being stalked by a man/boy. I don't know how that would happen, I guess in one of the hunts she meets him and it's cute until they leave town and she keeps getting gifts and letters from the boy and Sam and dean think it's weird and she starts to get scared when she realizes he's stalking her, the gifts and letters get too personal and too much and they think it's better if they just go to the bunker, but somehow he gets inside the bunker and hides, and they only realize when in one night she wakes up and he's watching her and she just screams and freezes, what happens next, I'm sure it will be amazing, lots of love

A/N: OMG I THINK I WROTE A NOVEL?!? I just couldn’t stop writing and the next thing I knew it was like a million words long. I wanted this to be so in detail and so deep. There was just so much trauma to be written over so I made sure to capture every single emotion. I hope you guys liked this, Requests are still open!

Warnings: Stalker, Roofied, Sexual harassment, Sexual assault (kinda), cursing, violence

You and your brothers just had a successful hunt and were celebrating at the local bar in town.

“Here Y/N/N.” Sam said and handed you a shot. “Now this is great way to start off the night.” You smirked, motioning to the shot.

“Alright easy there tiger.” Dean said, sending you a disapproving look.

“I am 21 now Dean.” You reminded him.

“Alright you just turned 21.” He sighed, concerned about this new milestone you’ve hit and wanting to keep you as safe as possible.

“Still 21.” You sassed before you downed the shot and slammed the glass down on the table.

“That felt good!” You grinned at your brothers as a guy walked past you.

“Come play a game of pool with me.” He said flirtatiously and winked before making his way towards the pool table.

“I could use some fun.” You beamed, knowing pool was your favorite.

“I know you wanna have fun, but keep your guard up and be careful.” Sam warned as Dean glared at the back of the guy.

“Yeah tell him no funny business.” Dean huffed.

“He asked me to play a game of pool not go home with him.” You pointed out sarcastically.

“Yeah well if he did that then he’d already be dead.” Dean growled.

“Alrighty then. Another round of shots for Deano!” You said shooting Sam a look as you walked away. You heard Dean’s grumble behind you, but you were already past it. It was just a game of pool. When you reached the table, the guy was already waiting there for you. He was tall, with dark hair and a confident smile.

“I’m Ryan.” He said, introducing himself and handing you a pool stick.

“I’m Y/N.” You smiled, taking the stick from him.

“You’re beautiful Y/N.” He smirked which immediately made you blush.

“Why thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.” You said playfully and turned your attention to the pool table. You grabbed the cue ball with a practiced hand.

“I’ll take the first shot, you know ladies first and all.” You grinned, eyeing the balls on the table.

“I have a feeling you might beat me.” He chuckled, looking towards the pool table.

“I have a feeling that you might be right.” You smirked, lining up your break shot.

You were halfway through your fourth game with Ryan, your competitive streak still going strong. He had joked around and said that you couldn’t leave without him beating you at least once. As you were about to take your next shot, you suddenly caught Dean’s eye from across the bar.

“We gotta go.” He mouthed and made a wrap it up motion with his finger. You nodded and turned your attention back to Ryan.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go now.” You sighed and placed your pool stick on the table. Ryan’s demeanor changed instantly. His body language that shifted from playful to dark didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“You’re not allowed to go.” He said, his voice low and unsettling. He took a step towards you and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” You chuckled nervously, trying to keep the situation light, but your hunter instincts were screaming at you to move.

“I’m not letting you leave.” He repeated, now too close for comfort. Your body went into high alert, and you began to slowly back away, but the wall behind you stopped you. The look of panic must have been clear on your face because something in Ryan snapped, and his expression softened into a smile, like nothing had happened.

“I never got my win!” He laughed, his voice going back to its charming tone. You exhaled and forced a smile.

“Oh yeah! I mean technically this is your win since I have to forfeit.” You said.

“I guess that will have to do.” He smiled before it faltered and he clenched his jaw. You stood there awkwardly trying to find a way out of the conversation.

“Okay uh yeah I should get going then.” You said.

“Bye Y/N. I hope to see you again.” He said.

“Yeah, nice meeting you. Bye!” You forced another smile, spinning around to walk back towards your brothers. But as soon as you turned away, your smile faltered, replaced by a deep furrow of your brows. Something about that interaction just didn’t sit right. Dean didn’t miss a beat. As soon as you reached him, his sharp eyes were on you.

“Everything okay?” He asked, his voice low.

“Uh…” You hesitated, instinctively glancing at Ryan. It was a fleeting look, but Dean caught it—his eyes narrowed immediately. He followed your gaze toward Ryan and then back to you.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” You rushed to say.

“You sure?” His tone had shifted, no longer casual. His gaze moved back to Ryan, now squinting in suspicion.

“Yes,” you squeaked, your fingers tugging anxiously at your sleeve, betraying your nerves.

Dean's eyes flicked down to your fidgeting hands, and he exhaled slowly.

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe you, kid.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to explain.

“He just... something felt off at the end.” You said.

Dean’s expression softened, his voice quiet, but serious.

“Alright, kiddo. I’ve got your back.” He stepped closer, scanning the room.

“Do you need me to step in?” His eyes turned hard again, like steel, thinking about someone making his baby sister uncomfortable.

The last thing you wanted was for Dean to escalate the situation further. Ryan had seemed harmless enough. You were just in your head about it all.

“No, no, I think I’m just being overly cautious,” you said, lowering your voice, feeling the weight of embarrassment settle in. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Hey, trust your gut. If something feels off, it probably is.” Dean said, his voice softer now, though there was still an edge to it. You nodded, looking around the bar. Ryan had disappeared—gone without a trace.

“Well, looks like he left anyway.” You sighed.

“Yeah and we’re out of here once Sam gets back from the bathroom,” Dean replied. Just as he spoke, Sam emerged, heading straight for you.

“Alright, you ready to head out?” Sam asked, looking at you with a raised brow.

You nodded and the three of you walked out of the bar together.

————

It was a couple days later and you were only about 30 minutes away from the last town because you’d caught wind of another hunt. You woke up abruptly to a knock on the motel door. You noticed your brothers weren’t in the room so you peaked out of the peephole. You couldn’t see anyone so you quickly grabbed your gun. Carefully, you opened the door and saw a white bag on the ground. You picked it up with confusion and saw there was a banana nut muffin in the bag. Your absolute favorite muffin.

“What the hell?” You said to yourself. Where did this come from? Who dropped this off? Where were your brothers? You looked around, but didn’t notice anyone. You turned back into the room and shut the door. You placed the bag on the table and grabbed your phone.

‘Hey did you guys get me a muffin?’ You texted your brothers.

‘What?’ Dean replied.

‘No why? Do you want us to grab you one from somewhere on our way back?’ Sam texted.

‘Where are you guys?’ You texted

’Dropped Sam off at the library a little bit ago and I’m about finished checking out the scene.’ Dean replied.

‘We didn’t want to wake you up, you needed to catch up on your sleep.” Sam replied.

‘Someone knocked on the door, but when I opened the door no one was there. I looked down and there was a banana nut muffin in a bag.’ You texted.

‘That wasn’t us. Don’t eat it.’ Dean warned. You huffed out loud, feeling your hunger gnawing at you.

“Ugh you know it’s my favorite muffin though and now I want one😫’ You replied.

‘That’s weird, don’t eat it. We’ll stop and get you a muffin from somewhere on the way back.’ Sam texted.

‘A banana nut muffin?’ You questioned.

‘Yes, a banana nut muffin, you freak. Again, who eats banana nut muffins?!’ Dean replied.

‘Uh me and whoever this muffin was supposed to go to.” You responded.

‘Have a chocolate chip muffin like a normal person.’ Dean texted.

‘You know those are my second favorites!’ You replied.

‘You’ll get your muffin.’ Sam texted. You flopped onto the bed and sighed, staring at the ceiling. Stuck in your own thoughts you suddenly remembered that you told Ryan that banana nut muffins were your favorite muffin. A weird sinking feeling overcame you and you suddenly felt like you were being watched. You quickly shook the feeling off.

“I’m in my own head, I’m just paranoid.” You said out loud trying to convince yourself, needing to hear it to believe it.

“Perks of being a hunter I guess.” You sighed and grabbed your stuff to take a shower. You needed to get ready for the day especially because you were already running behind and your brothers were already out without you. You showered and got dressed. As you walked out of the bathroom, the motel door opened and your brothers walked in.

“Hey kiddo, Sam has your muffin.” Dean said.

“A banana nut muffin!?” You asked, excitingly.

“Yeah, that one.” Dean said and pretended to gag. He threw his bag down on the floor as Sam walked in behind him.

“Where’s the other muffin?” Sam asked as he handed you the bakery bag.

“Yum thank you!” You grinned and then pointed to the table where the other muffin was. You bit into your muffin as Sam walked over to where the other one was. He picked it up and looked inside the bag.

“Looks like a normal muffin.” Sam shrugged, looking towards Dean.

“Does that mean I can have that one later?” You asked with a mouth full of your muffin.

“No.” Both of your brothers responded at the same time.

“Okay fair enough.” You mumbled, swallowing your bite.

“You know what’s weird?” You asked, still trying to piece everything together.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I told Ryan that banana nut muffins were my favorite.” You trailed off, waiting for your brothers to dismiss your paranoia.

“Really? Huh.” Sam replied, processing the coincidence.

“Yeah, but it couldn’t have been him right? I’m just being paranoid.” You chuckled nervously, glancing towards your brothers in hopes of seeing a slight humor on their face, but you were met with looks of concern instead. When Dean noticed your face drop, he spoke up.

“Yeah kiddo, just a weird coincidence.” He said and sent you a quick smile. He didn’t want you to worry.

“Yeah okay that’s what I thought.” You said softly and sat down at the table to finish your muffin. As soon as you turned away, your brothers glanced at each other with concern, knowing that they stumbled into Ryan, in the town, earlier that morning. Sam walked over to the mystery muffin and immediately chucked it into the trash.

Weird things continued to show up at the motel door like flowers and little items. Each time there was never anyone around. Your brothers started to get concerned and you began to grow even more paranoid. The three of you had figured once the hunt was over and you were out of dodge, the weird things would stop happening. So the morning you were leaving town, you packed the car up with relief. You had about a 12 hour road trip ahead and you were going to stop halfway through and find a motel to stay at. You settled into the Impala for the long drive ahead, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something—someone—was still watching.

“Let’s find a bar tonight.” You said, trying to push the unease aside.

“Fine by me, I’ve gotta look forward to something at the end of this drive.” Dean smirked. After hours on the road, the three of you finally made it to a small, quiet town. You grabbed some food, checked into a dingy motel, and after making sure everything was settled for the night, the idea of unwinding with a drink at the local bar felt like a godsend.

“Finally.” You grinned as the bartender handed out the round of shots. You threw it back and asked for a drink before Sam and Dean even grabbed theirs. Your drink was placed down at the same time the sound of yelling and shuffling caught your attention. You turned toward the bar, eyes narrowing in amusement at the chaos. The sudden noise was enough to draw everyone's focus away from their drinks, and you were no exception. The fight only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was just enough time for someone to slip something into your drink when you weren’t looking.

“Well that was good entertainment.” Dean said before standing up.

“I’m going to go find some more.” He smirked and walked away from the bar. You were still riding the buzz from the shots you’d downed, so you decided to let your drink sit for a little longer as you continued chatting with Sam.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.” Sam said, standing up. You nodded, watching him head off in the direction of the restroom. Left alone, you absently picked up your drink and took a big sip. You sat there, thinking mindlessly as you waited for Sam to come back, taking another sip of your drink. But as you put the glass down, a strange sensation started to come over you. Just as the unease settled in, Sam walked back to the table. You shook your head to clear it, but it only made things worse. The room started to spin. You grabbed onto Sam’s sleeve, your fingers tingling with a strange sensation.

“Sammy,” you whispered, your voice thicker than usual, a chill creeping up your spine. “I don’t feel good…”

Sam turned, his brow furrowing at the sight of you. The instinct to protect kicked in almost immediately, his eyes scanning your face for signs of distress. He took a step closer, gently pulling you into his arms to steady you.

"What’s wrong?" Sam asked, concern tightening his features as he steadied you. His eyes searched yours.

“I feel… funny.” You mumbled, your voice unrecognizable to your own ears. You couldn’t quite place what was happening, but everything about you felt wrong. Weak. Disoriented. Your vision blurred as you swayed slightly in his arms.

“Shh, take it easy,” Sam said, his grip tightening.

“What did you drink?” He asked, concerned.

"I-I don’t know.” You stammered, struggling to make sense of the haze in your head. The words wouldn’t come. The panic began to build in your chest.

"Sammy… what’s happening to me?” You whimpered. “I feel like I’m gonna die.” You whispered, unsure of what could possibly be happening to you.

Suddenly, Sam’s eyes went wide with realization.

“Okay, alright.” He muttered trying to keep the situation calm and under control.

“You’ve been roofied.” He said. He knew exactly what that meant and it terrified him.

“Somethings wrong. I’m scared.” You whimpered as you clutched onto his sleeves tighter.

"Listen to me.” Sam said, his voice low and steady, trying to keep you calm. "It’s the drugs. Someone slipped something in your drink, but I’ve got you, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you." He kept repeating the words, though his heart was hammering in his chest. He could already feel the overwhelming need to protect you—his baby sister against a predator. He wasn’t going to let anything bad happen. But you were already shaking with fear, your body trembling as you tried to push away from him weakly.

"I don’t…want anyone to touch me…" Your voice was strained, barely above a whisper. Your hands trying to push the danger away.

“Y/N/N, no one’s going to touch you.” Sam said urgently, his hands gripping your shoulders tighter, pulling you close as you fought weakly against him.

“I’ve got you, okay? I’m right here. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.” He reassured softly, urgently scanning the bar for Dean.

From across the room, Dean had noticed the change in your demeanor. He saw the way your body was trembling, the panic written across your face, and his gut twisted in response. He locked eyes with Sam and without hesitation, he was on his feet, moving toward you, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Y/N,” Dean said, his voice hard, but filled with concern as he approached.

“Kid, what’s going on?” He asked, glancing towards Sam.

“Someone drugged her.” Sam said, his jaw tight.

You looked at Dean, wide eyed and tearful.

“De…” You choked, your voice breaking.

“I’m scared… I- I don’t know what’s happening to me.” You barely recognized your own words, too foggy to make sense of them. You felt like your body was betraying you.

“I feel like I’m gonna die.” You whispered once again, your voice breaking.

“Y/N, no,” Sam said firmly, holding you close, his own heart pounding.

“You’re not gonna die. You’re just- it’s the drugs. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He reassured.

You were still confused and panicked, clinging to Sam’s arm weakly.

“I-I’m scared. What if something happens to me?” You whimpered.

Dean’s jaw clenched in disgust.

“No one’s gonna hurt you. I promise. We’ve got you.” Dean said before he wrapped his arm around the other side of you.

“We’re getting you out of here, kiddo.” He said, his voice soft but firm.

“Don’t let anyone—please no—don’t let—please.” You begged, words slipping out of your mouth in a garbled mess, but your brothers understood. They always did.

“No one’s gonna touch you, okay?” Dean’s voice was low, fighting off the rage inside him. “You’re safe now, and we’re gonna make damn sure you stay that way.”

"But… I… feel weird, De…" You whimpered, your voice barely coherent.

“Mm gonna… pass out, and mm scared…” Your words faltered, slipping off into nothingness. The fear in your voice hit Dean like a punch to the gut.

"If you pass out, you’ll still be safe, okay? We’re not going anywhere. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. We won’t let it." Sam said.

Dean nodded, his throat tight with emotion. He couldn’t stand seeing you like this, vulnerable and frightened. The thought of someone doing this to you made him sick.

“Just stay with us, kid. We’re with you, I promise.” He said as they gently guided you out of the bar, keeping you steady between them. You swayed, your legs unsteady, your body trembling as the drug continued to course through you, but they held you firm. They helped you into the Impala, keeping you between them as they kept you talking. Each word you spoke was slurred, and you kept shivering, your body fighting the effects of the drug.

“Just stay with us.” Sam kept saying, holding you steady, his hand brushing against your arm to comfort you. Dean’s jaw clenched as he stared ahead, fighting the urge to get back to the bar and deal with whoever had done this to you.

When you arrived at the motel, they helped you inside. You leaned against Sam, feeling weak, dizzy, and sick.

“I need to… I feel sick…” You mumbled.

Dean’s face darkened as he helped Sam help you into the bathroom, keeping his hands gentle on your shoulders.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta throw up, kid.” He said, his voice low. “We need to get the drugs out of your system.”

You could barely understand him, your body shaking so badly that you could hardly hold yourself up. You tried to push yourself upright, but your limbs felt so heavy. Dean's eyes softened, but there was no way around it. He placed his hand gently on the back of your neck and spoke calmly but firmly.

“Y/N, listen to me. You’ve got to throw up, alright? It’ll help. We’ll get you through this. You just need to trust me.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you whimpered, and as you went to protest, Dean’s fingers gently moved down your throat, making you gag. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, but Dean was right there, speaking in a low, steady voice. “You’re okay. Let it out kid. It’s okay.”

It felt like an eternity. Your body spasmed as you fought against the sickness and the overwhelming sensation of helplessness. But eventually, it passed, and you slumped against Sam, your body drained. Sam wiped your hair from your face, his expression soft.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, weak and exhausted. “I don’t know what’s happening…I-I don’t know.” You said still confused and everything being a blur. Sam’s arms tightened around you, his touch gentle but firm. He pressed his cheek to your hair, his voice soft and soothing.

“Y/N, hey, no. Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re not supposed to understand this, okay? None of this is your fault.” His hands ran through your hair in slow, comforting motions, as if trying to erase the fear from your mind. Dean, kneeled beside you, his face full of worry and love. He took a deep breath and reached for your hand, his grip warm and reassuring. His voice was low and tender, but firm with the promise of protection.

“You didn’t ask for any of this, Y/N. Someone was going to hurt you, they targeted you, but this isn’t on you. It’s not your fault.” He gently squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“We’re here, okay? We’ve got you. Always.” He promised. You felt the weight of their words settle into your chest, and though the fear still lingered, it was softened by their presence. You fell asleep shortly after, too exhausted to stay awake. Neither Sam nor Dean could rest. They took turns watching over you through the night, checking to make sure you were breathing, making sure you were safe. Both of them were sickened by what had happened, angry at whoever had done this to you, but all they could do now was protect you.

The next morning, you woke in a cold sweat, your heart racing, panic clawing at your chest. You couldn’t remember everything, the events from the night before felt distant and fragmented. “What happened?” You gasped, sitting up suddenly.

“What happened to me? Why can’t I remember?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a brief look before Sam moved toward you, his hand gentle on your arm.

“You were roofied, Y/N, but you’re okay. No one touched you. No one hurt you.” He promised. But you didn’t believe it. The anxiety grew and your breaths became shallow.

“I… I don’t remember. What if… what if something happened that I can’t remember? I… I… feel like… what if…” You couldn’t make out the words due to your panic. Dean’s jaw clenched. He hated seeing you like this, vulnerable and terrified.

“Nothing happened, kid. You were with us the whole time. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’re safe. But listen to me—if you feel like you need to talk about it, we’re here.” Your anxiety was rising by the second. You clung to Sam’s arm.

“What if it was Ryan…” You whimpered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Now suddenly terrified of the man. “He could be stalking me… I know he’s the one who was leaving things at the motel door…” You panicked.

“We’ll take care of it, Y/N.” Sam said firmly, not believing it was Ryan, but not having the heart to tell you that there were predators everywhere who lurked in the darkness. Dean noticed the fear still haunting your eyes and your body still trembling.

“But you don’t have to worry. You’re safe. And we won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean nodded, his gaze darkening with something that was close to rage.

“You’re safe, kiddo.” He said, his voice tight with barely contained anger. “We’ll handle it. Just breathe for me, okay? We’ve got this.”

Your chest was still tight with fear, the anxiety overwhelming. You could feel your panic subsiding a little with the strength of their words, but your mind wouldn’t quiet. The thought of Ryan, the unsettling presence of him lingering at your door, kept gnawing at you.

"But... if it’s him, Dean..." Your voice cracked as you spoke, barely above a whisper. "What if he hurts me?"

Dean looked at you, his face softening. He gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a way that was meant to comfort, to ground you.

"I don’t think it was him, kid. But if it is… we’ll deal with it. We’ll make sure he never gets close to you again. That’s a promise.” He said before Sam spoke up. Sam’s voice was steady, filled with the kind of quiet certainty that only a brother could give.

“We’re not letting anything happen to you. It doesn’t matter who it is. No one is going to hurt you, Y/N.”

You wanted to believe them, needed to. And with every word, every gentle reassurance, you felt the weight in your chest slowly lifting. You were still terrified, still shaken to your core, but in this moment—surrounded by them, wrapped in their unwavering protection—you felt just a little bit safer.

They were right. They would take care of it. They always did. Even when the fear in your heart screamed that something was wrong, you knew, deep down, that as long as they were there, they wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

A few hours later, you were in the motel room, packing up your things while your brothers were busy outside, loading the car. Your phone buzzed and you glanced down at it, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the message. The words sent a chill down your spine:

“I almost had you.”

It was like the air sucked out of the room, and you couldn’t breathe. Your entire body froze for a second, the words echoing in your mind, over and over, until you couldn’t stop shaking. Just then another buzz rang through.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and each breath you took was getting shorter, faster, and harder to take. Your vision blurred, your hands trembling so violently that the phone slipped from your grasp and clattered to the floor. The fear of him, of Ryan, washed over you like a flood, paralyzing you in place.

You tried to steady your breathing, but it only got worse. You were suffocating. You could barely think. All you could feel was the terror, the sense of helplessness that seemed to be creeping in around you again. You barely registered the sound of the door opening, but when your brothers entered the room and saw you frozen, staring at the phone on the floor, their faces instantly went from casual to concerned.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice was low, his gaze flicking between you and the phone, noting your pale face and the panic in your eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even breathe properly. Your chest felt like it was caving in, and you choked on a sob. Your body was trembling, your legs unsteady beneath you. Your breath came in sharp, gasping sobs, like you couldn’t get enough air.

Dean’s gaze flicked to Sam, and both of them took a cautious step toward you. Sam’s voice was gentle, but filled with concern. “Y/N, look at me. Talk to us. What’s going on?” Sam’s hand was on your back, trying to ground you, but it wasn’t enough. The flood of emotion, the terror, it was all too much. You couldn’t control it.

“Y/N, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam said, his voice gentle but filled with urgency as he tried to soothe you. “Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe. You’re safe. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

But you couldn’t stop. The sobs racked through you, violent and desperate. You couldn’t make sense of your words—nothing came out but frantic gasps and incoherent sobs. You stumbled backward, clinging to the edge of the bed, trying to stay upright. Your brain felt foggy, the panic overtaking every inch of your mind.

“M-my phone…” You managed to gasp, but the words barely made sense.

Dean stepped forward, kneeling down to pick up your phone from the floor. His hands were steady, but his jaw clenched tight as he saw the message that had sent you into this panic. He read it aloud, his voice cold with fury.

“I almost had you. I’m closer than you think?”

His jaw tightened, and you could see the fury building in him. “Who the hell…” He muttered under his breath, his voice low and full of anger, but there was also concern—so much concern—written in his features. His eyes darkened. “Goddamn it.” He said, coming to conclusion that you were right all along and it was Ryan.

Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion, his voice soothing, but cautious. “Dean, hold on, okay? It could be a wrong number. Maybe it’s just some sick joke. We don’t know for sure that it’s him.”

“Y/N,” Sam said quickly, now speaking directly to you. “It’s okay. Maybe it’s just a wrong number, alright?” But even as he said it, you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He wanted to calm you, to make it go away, but the fear was already too deep. The message was too much.

Dean’s grip tightened on the phone, his face a mask of frustration and anger.

“I don’t care if it’s a wrong number, Sam. If someone’s messing with her—” He cut himself off, eyes narrowing as if trying to hold back the urge to act before having all the facts. You were shaking uncontrollably now, clinging to Sam as if he were the only thing that kept you from floating away into the panic that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Please… please… make it stop,” you sobbed, unable to stop the torrent of tears. “I can’t… I- I’m so scared…”

Sam wrapped both arms around you, pulling you in close, his voice steady but filled with desperation. “Y/N, we’re here. You’re safe. We’ll figure this out. We’ll take care of it, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you. No one’s gonna get close to you. We won’t let it happen.”

But you couldn’t stop the trembling, couldn’t stop the feeling that something terrible was waiting just around the corner. It didn’t matter that Sam was trying to calm you, or that Dean was ready to fight whoever had done this.

The fear was too deep and all you could do was cling to them as if your life depended on it—because, in that moment, it felt like it did.

You buried your face in Sam’s chest, letting the warmth of his arms envelop you, trying to believe that, somehow, you were safe. But the message kept ringing in your ears. "I almost had you. I’m closer than you think." It was like a shadow over you, and no matter how tightly they held you, you couldn’t shake it.

The ride back to the bunker was quiet. It had been a long, exhausting stretch of events, and the idea of getting home, even just to the safety of the familiar bunker, felt like a weight slowly lifting off your shoulders. But you couldn’t shake the tension you’d been carrying because of Ryan.

As you drove through the night, the road stretched on endlessly, the headlights of the Impala cutting through the dark, providing little comfort. A sudden pang hit your bladder, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. You shifted in your seat, glancing at Dean.

“Hey, can we stop at the next rest stop? I really need to use the bathroom.” You asked, softly, still completely exhausted from your emotional turmoil.

Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded.

“Alright. There’s one coming up,” Dean said, pulling the car off the highway. “We’ll fill up on gas, you can go to the bathroom, stretch your legs, grab a snack if you need one and then we’re back on the road.” Dean’s protective streak had kicked in full force lately, especially after everything that had happened. He kept an eye on you constantly, like he was waiting for the next thing to happen, and part of you hated that, but you knew it was because he cared. Sam was always quietly watching, constantly reassessing how you were doing. You’d caught Sam looking at you more than once with that deep concern in his eyes, the same look he had when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Stay close, Y/N.” Dean said as you opened the door, his voice filled with a controlled kind of concern. “We’ll be right here. Just keep your guard up.”

“I’ll be fine.” You replied, attempting to sound convincing, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew it was a lie. You weren’t fine. Not really. But it was better than constantly showing how frazzled you felt. You were a hunter for God sake, you knew how to fight monsters. But Ryan felt worse than a monster, the way he had the ability to make you freeze was what freaked you out the most.

Dean pulled the car up to the gas pump, and Sam went inside, to pay for the fuel and grab a snack. You walked towards the restroom trying to ignore the way the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. The echo of your footsteps in the empty rest stop made your skin crawl. You told yourself it was just nerves. That you were being paranoid.

The bathroom was dark, lit only by the flickering fluorescent lights above, and it reeked of stale air and cheap soap. You walked quickly to the nearest stall, locking the door behind you. The last thing you wanted was to spend any more time in this place than necessary.

You exhaled sharply as you sat down to go to the bathroom, mentally trying to push away the unease that had settled in your chest. Everything’s fine, you told yourself. Just breathe. You’re fine.

But then it happened.

There was a soft click—barely audible, but enough to send your heart racing in your chest. You froze. The door to the bathroom had swung open—slowly and eerily.

A pool ball rolled into the stall with a dull clack against the floor, stopping just inches from your feet.

You couldn’t breathe. Your entire body went cold, and your heart slammed into your ribs. It was happening again. Ryan. You knew it in your gut—he’s here.

A panic that you could not control hit you like a freight train. Your mind screamed at you, but your body was already in fight or flight mode. Your hands shook violently as you tried to make yourself as small as possible, jumping up onto the toilet to hide your feet, praying to God that if he was here, he couldn’t see you. You scrambled for your phone, barely able to hold it steady. Your fingers were shaking so badly, it felt like you were losing control of them. You quickly typed a message, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears it was all you could hear.

Ryan's here. Please help. Please.

You hit send as quickly as your shaking hands would allow. You couldn’t risk making a sound, couldn’t risk him hearing you. Then the phone buzzed in your hand, and you nearly jumped out of your skin.

It was Dean.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you picked up the phone, holding it to your ear, barely able to speak through the tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice came through, a steady presence despite the panic you could hear just beneath the surface. “Y/N, what’s going on? Talk to me. Where are you?”

“I… I… I’m in the bathroom,” you whispered, barely able to hold it together. “I—I think it’s Ryan. I’m hiding, Dean. I’m so scared. Please—please hurry.” In the midst of your panic, you didn't even realize you had grabbed the knife from your pocket—hunter instincts. You clutched the knife with a trembling hand as you listened to Dean.

“Okay, listen to me,” Dean’s voice was like a lifeline, and you clung to it, even as your panic threatened to swallow you whole. “We’re right here. We’re coming to you, alright? Just stay calm. Stay quiet.” A few seconds went by when you heard the click of the door again. You froze in place and you didn’t hear the voices at first. The knife was still in your hand, your breath coming out in ragged sobs. You were still convinced it was Ryan on the other side of that door. It was only when Sam’s voice broke through the fog of panic, softer but steady, that you recognized it was your brothers.

“Y/N,” Sam called, and his voice cracked just enough for you to hear how scared he was. “Y/N, it’s Sam. Unlock the door. It’s just us, okay? It’s just us. You’re safe now.” Your knuckles were turning white as you gripped the knife. You looked underneath the stall door to see the run down shoes Sam always had on. But you were still terrified. You could hear every heartbeat in your ears, every breath coming faster and more shallow than the last. Your fingers curled even tighter around the knife’s handle, the metal pressing into your palm.

Dean’s voice was next, firmer, more insistent.

“Open the stall, sweetheart. Let us in. You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

But the fear had a grip on you now, and you couldn’t let go. You squeezed your eyes shut hoping to escape reality when you heard rustling.

It was Sam, he had crawled underneath the stall. Then, suddenly, you felt something solid against your wrist. His hands were gentle but firm, prying your fingers away from the knife you had clutched, but you weren’t willing to let go. Not yet.

"No, Sam, no…" You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts as your free hand shot out, trying to stop him from taking the knife. “Don’t. He’s here. I have to protect myself. He’s—he’s—” You tried to fight against him, but he held you firm as he quickly unlatched the lock on the stall with his other hand to let Dean through.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Dean interrupted, and you heard him moving closer. The panic in his voice made you flinch, but you couldn’t stop yourself. "You don’t need the knife, kid. We’ll keep you safe." But you were shaking too hard, unable to think clearly. You tried to pull away from Sam, but he was right there, keeping you grounded. His voice was low, soothing.

“Y/N, let it go. You don’t need it. We’ve got you, okay? We’ll keep you safe. Just give it to me.” The next moment, you felt a gentle touch on your arm, and Dean’s voice softened, coaxing you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. Just... give us the knife.”

The words barely registered through the fog of fear, and you kept pulling your hand back, subconsciously trying to protect yourself with the knife. But Sam wouldn’t let go, gently but insistently removing your grip from the blade.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Sam murmured, his voice softer now, tinged with sadness. And then, slowly, you let go. Your hand, trembling uncontrollably, released its death grip on the knife, and Sam was there, gently pulling it from your grasp.

“There we go,” Dean said, his voice calm and soothing. Your body wracked with sobs, chest heaving as the tears poured down your face. You couldn’t stop.

“You’re alright, kid. We’ve got you.” Dean comforted you as Sam took care of the knife. Once Sam had it in a safe place, Dean ushered you both out of the stall, with urgency.

“Alright we’ve gotta get out of here.” He said on high alert. Dean had his hand guiding you toward the exit, every step purposeful, every motion an instinctual reaction to the threat that could be around the corner. He wasn’t just worried about Ryan or the fear you felt—he was scanning the area, his eyes darting from one corner of the rest stop to the next, his senses on full alert. He knew that, in situations like this, even the smallest thing could be a warning sign. Once you were safely out of the bathroom and outside of the rest stop, Dean’s pace didn’t slow. He didn’t give you the chance to second guess yourself, to freeze in place. He kept you moving.

“We’re almost to the car. Just stay with me.” He muttered, his voice low but firm, like a quiet command. Sam kept close behind you, watching your every move, staying attuned to the way your body shuddered with each passing moment.

Once you were all in the car, Dean started the engine quickly, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, but he kept his gaze focused, even as his voice softened.

“We’re gonna get get to the bunker and you’ll be safe there.” Dean calmed you. Sam leaned over the seat, his fingers brushing against your hand in a silent reassurance, his soft voice murmuring comforting words, “We’ve got you. You’re gonna be alright. We’re not going anywhere.”

And despite everything, despite the gnawing fear that still clawed at you, you found yourself believing them. Slowly, your heart rate began to settle, your breath no longer caught in your chest.

Dean shot a glance at you through the rearview mirror. His jaw was clenched, his brow furrowed in frustration—but when he saw the slight relaxation in your shoulders, the way your breathing steadied, he allowed himself to exhale.

“We’re alright, kiddo. We’ve got you. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

The Bunker had become your refuge. It was a safe place, a fortress—something that should have calmed you down. But every creak of the old walls, every gust of wind that rattled the windows, seemed to set off something inside you. You had days where you could function normally, where your mind didn’t constantly spiral into panic, but those moments were always fragile. The shadow of Ryan still loomed in your thoughts, and even though you were surrounded by your brothers, even though they were always there to watch your back, you couldn’t shake the fear that always seemed to cling to your skin.

Dean and Sam kept an eye on you, and they were more than just watchful. They were hyper aware of your anxious tics—your fingers twitching when you were nervous, the way you’d tap your foot repeatedly if you were on edge, the way your breathing would hitch in the moments before a panic attack. They knew you better than anyone, better than you even knew yourself.

You sat in the corner of the bunker’s kitchen, knees pulled to your chest, your hands tightly gripping the edge of the table. The world outside the safe walls of the bunker felt like a distant memory. Your breath came in shallow, panicked bursts, as your mind spiraled back to the last few weeks—the constant fear, the paranoia, the ever present sense of being watched.

You fought monsters. You faced things most people would only see in their worst nightmares. Hell, you had fought some of the most vicious, bloodthirsty creatures on Earth. But none of that compared to what Ryan had done to you. Nothing had ever made you freeze in place, completely shut down, like the thought of him did.

Monsters you could handle. But Ryan... he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t something you could fight with a knife or a gun. He was human. And that made him so much scarier.

The weight of that thought pressed down on you like a physical force, crushing you. Why did this scare you more than anything else? You felt weak. Stupid. You should be able to handle this. You should be stronger than this.

But you couldn’t. And it made you feel small.

Dean and Sam came into the kitchen, both looking at you with concern.

“I feel so stupid and so weak. I can fight monsters, but a simple human makes me shut down?” You scoffed getting right to the point now looking at them with tears glistening in your eyes. Sam stopped in front of you, crouching down to your level, his voice soft but firm.

"Y/N," he said gently, “you’re not weak. You’ve faced things that would make most people curl up into a ball. But this... it’s different. And we understand why it’s affecting you the way it is.” He finished.

Dean’s voice was low, full of raw emotion. “He’s not a monster, kid. That’s what makes him so dangerous. He’s messing with your head. He’s going after you in a way that’s—” Dean swallowed hard, his jaw tightening in anger. “—in a way that’s different. In a way that’s... about your vulnerability.”

Your breath caught, and you fought back the sting of tears threatening to spill over. “I don’t want to be scared,” you whispered. “I fought monsters... but a human makes me freeze.” You said again, getting the point across to your brothers that you know you shouldn’t be scared of Ryan.

Sam’s hand landed on your shoulder, his touch warm and steady. “Sometimes, Y/N, humans are more dangerous than anything. He’s going after you in a way that... you can’t just fight off. This is about control. And what he’s trying to do to you—it’s more terrifying than anything we’ve faced.”

Dean nodded, his eyes dark with anger. "Yeah, he’s not after your life, Y/N. He’s after something much worse. He’s using you, manipulating you. And the way he’s targeting you sexually... it’s a violation."

Your whole body trembled, the thought of it too much to bear. The idea of being controlled, of being violated in that way, was suffocating. It made your chest tighten, your body go cold with fear.

"You don’t deserve this," Sam murmured, his voice full of emotion. "You have every right to be petrified. What he’s doing to you isn’t just terrifying—it’s sick." He let out a slow breath. "He’s not just playing mind games. He’s hurting you in ways that can’t be fixed with a fight."

Dean’s gaze softened, his usual tough demeanor fading. "You’ve been through hell, Y/N. And sometimes, human evil? That’s the hardest kind of monster to face. You have every right to be scared. But we’re going to find a way through this."

The words hit you like a wave, washing away some of the shame you had felt. They understood. This wasn’t just some fight or some hunt. This was different. And it wasn’t your fault.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean pulled you into a tight hug, his arms a wall of comfort around you. "You don’t have to thank us, kid. We’ve got you. Always."

Sam and Dean’s research had been relentless, and Dean. They were both determined to uncover any trace of Ryan’s past, to figure out whether he was truly a threat.

One night, while you tried to distract yourself with a book in the common room, Sam was hunched over his laptop, furiously typing. You had been trying to ignore the constant buzzing of his keyboard and the click of the mouse as he worked, but you couldn’t help glancing over.

"Anything new?" You asked, exhausted.

Sam didn’t look up, his eyes glued to the screen. "I’m digging through old records, old forums. He’s a ghost in the system, but there’s gotta be something."

A few minutes passed in silence. Then, Dean walked in, looking unusually serious. He was holding a set of files—notes, printed-out reports. He had been working his own angle, checking in with contacts and old hunters to see if anyone knew anything about Ryan.

“Anything on your end?” You asked quietly, anxiety creeping up your spine.

Dean threw the files on the table and gave you a grim look. “Nothing solid, but something doesn’t sit right. We’ve got a lot of leads on the guy—no criminal records, but that’s what makes it weird. People like Ryan? They don’t just disappear off the grid.”

You tried to force yourself to focus on his words, but the weight of everything you’d been through—the fear, the constant torment—was starting to take its toll. You rubbed your eyes, trying to stay strong. Sam noticed, and without missing a beat, he turned his attention back to his laptop, his voice gentle.

"Don't worry, Y/N. We’re getting closer. We’ll find him. We’ll take care of it." Sam’s reassurance had a weight to it. He wasn’t just trying to make you feel better, he was as focused as a bloodhound on the trail.

Dean nodded in agreement. "We’re going to find him and he’ll never bother you again."

Days passed, and though the investigation continued, the pressure of constant vigilance weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was always watching, lurking just out of sight. Your nerves were frayed. Little things would trigger it—a knock on the door, a creak in the hallway, the sudden drop in the temperature of the Bunker’s stone walls.

You were in the kitchen, trying to get a glass of water. You’d been feeling restless for hours, but it wasn’t until you heard a soft sound—footsteps, faint but clear—that your heart slammed into your throat. You froze.

Someone’s in the bunker.

You swallowed hard, panic setting in instantly. Every part of your body screamed to run, to hide, to grab a weapon, but you were rooted to the spot.

You grabbed the closest thing to you—a heavy cast-iron skillet—and crept toward the hallway. Your breath was ragged, your heart beating so loud it drowned out everything else. Then, out of nowhere, you heard the familiar sound of a door creaking open.

It’s him. It’s Ryan.

Your mind went into overdrive. Without thinking, you darted around the corner, prepared to defend yourself, only to slam right into Dean.

"Y/N—what the hell are you doing?" Dean exclaimed, his eyes wide with concern.

You stared up at him, breathless, your hands still gripping the skillet. “I… I…thought that…”

Dean immediately caught on and with sad eyes, he took you into his arms.

“Alright I know. It’s okay.” He said, guiding you back into the kitchen with a firm hand. “You’re safe. I’ve been here the whole time. It’s just the bunker creaking.” He spoke softly, but his words barely registered. You were still on edge, your chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.

"Dean, I—" you choked out, shaking with fear. "I thought—"

He didn’t let you finish. He pulled you in closer. "I know. I know," He murmured, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

Sam appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“She thought she heard someone in the bunker,” Dean explained quickly, his voice still low and calm. “It’s okay, though. Everything’s fine.”

Sam nodded, his brow furrowed in concern. “Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here with you. We’ve got you. You’re not alone in this.”

You nodded, finally letting yourself lean into Dean’s arms, your heart slowly starting to settle. The relief was fleeting, but it was enough to know you weren’t alone in this fight. You could breathe again, for now.

________

It had been a long next day of research and hunting. Sam and Dean had spent hours digging through files, trying to track down leads on Ryan. But after everything that had happened—after all the terror, the paranoia, the constant fear that hung in the air like a thick fog—they were both exhausted. The night had fallen over the bunker like a heavy blanket, and the silence was deafening.

But it wasn’t just the hunt that weighed on them. It was you.

Dean stood by the kitchen counter, staring down at his half-drunk coffee mug. He wasn’t drinking it. He hadn’t even taken a sip since he sat down.

“You saw her last night?” Dean’s voice was low, like he was afraid someone else would hear him. Sam, who had been pacing the floor, stopped for a second and turned to face him.

“Yeah. I saw it.” Sam’s voice was equally strained, and he wiped a hand over his face, as if trying to rub away the exhaustion.

“You think she’s okay?” Dean asked, his voice tight, filled with an edge that Sam wasn’t used to hearing.

Sam took a slow breath, letting the words settle for a moment before answering. He didn’t know how to say it without sounding weak. “No. No, I don’t. She’s… she’s scared, Dean. But it’s worse than that.” Sam’s brow furrowed as he moved closer, lowering his voice further. “It’s like she’s been breaking down more and more each day.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. He’d seen it too. He’d watched you freeze up, flinch at the slightest noise, and jump at shadows. He’d seen how her hands trembled when she was alone, how her eyes darted around like she was constantly expecting something—anything—to happen. It terrified him.

But what had happened in the middle of that night, had made his heart sink to his stomach.

He’d dodged the pan just in time, but it had been close. Too close.

And that was when it really hit him. You were spiraling.

Sam’s voice broke the silence. “She almost hurt you last night, Dean. She thought it was Ryan.” His words hung in the air, heavy and thick. “That’s not just paranoia anymore. She’s lost it.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the table. “I don’t know what to do, Sammy. She—she’s so scared of him. And every day it’s getting worse. But I don’t know how to fix this. Every time I try to reach her, it’s like she’s just… slipping away.”

Sam’s face softened, his eyes tired but filled with understanding. “You’ve seen her, Dean. She’s not herself anymore. I’ve never seen her this… broken. I think she’s just trying to survive right now. Trying to make it through the next hour, the next minute. But it’s eating her alive. And it’s getting worse.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, frustration and fear boiling beneath his tough exterior. He’d been the strong one his whole life, the one who protected everyone. But this? This was different. You weren’t just scared anymore. You were broken, and it killed him to see you like this.

“I just—I don’t know what to do, Sammy. I don’t know how to fix this.” Dean’s voice cracked slightly, betraying the deep pain he felt. “I’ve fought monsters, I’ve fought angels and demons, and nothing—nothing ever felt like this. This is different. This is personal.”

Sam’s expression softened even further. “She’s been through hell, Dean. Ryan’s a monster, and you know it. But what he’s doing to her... that’s worse than anything we’ve faced. He’s attacking her mind, her sense of control, her safety. He’s getting inside her head, and she doesn’t know how to fight back against that.”

Dean nodded, the tightness in his chest only growing. He knew all of that. He knew it. But hearing it out loud—hearing how bad it had gotten—just made him feel more helpless. His eyes met Sam’s, and for a moment, the weight of it all hung between them.

“She’s scared of herself now, Sammy,” Dean said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “She doesn’t know who she is anymore. And I—I—I can’t let her keep slipping like this.”

Sam stepped closer, resting a hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “We can’t fix it overnight. But we’ll be here for her. We’ll help her through it. And if we need to hunt Ryan down and make sure he never hurts her again, we’ll do that too. Hell, we’re trying to do that. But right now, we just need to be there. For her. For us.”

Dean sighed heavily, a hollow sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “I know. But damn, Sam... I just— I never thought I’d see her like this. She’s just… so scared.”

“I know,” Sam replied.

Dean took a slow breath, his fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t know how they were going to get through this, how they were going to help you heal, but they had to. For you. Because no one—not Ryan, not any monster—was going to take you away from them. Not without a fight.

The fight had come sooner than expected and not in the way they wanted—so not in the way they wanted

———

That night, you woke up with the feeling that something was wrong—something was off. Your skin prickled. Your body stiffened, like it always did when you knew you weren’t alone, but you hadn’t heard anything. No footsteps. No creaking door.

You froze.

The next thing you knew, a figure was hovering over your bed, looming in the dark. Ryan.

His face was twisted with that sick grin, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You couldn't breathe. Your heart hammered in your chest.

His hands reached for you, and instinct took over. Panic. Pure, unfiltered panic surged through you.

“NO!” you screamed, your voice cracking with raw terror. The scream was torn from your throat before you could even think, before you could react, and you scrambled backward, the covers tangled around your legs as you tried to get away.

Ryan reached for you again, and you swiped at his hands, your own trembling in fear. You kicked your legs out, trying to get any distance between you and the nightmare looming over you. But it didn’t matter. He was too close.

A primal fear took over, and in that moment, you didn’t care about anything else but getting away. You couldn’t think, couldn’t make sense of anything. He was going to hurt you. He was going to touch you.

You managed to kick him in the chest, but he didn’t back away. He leaned forward, forcing himself onto the bed, and you fought back with everything you had. But you were weak. You were so weak. It was all you could do to flail helplessly against him.

Then, the door flew open.

Sam was there, standing in the doorway, his face pale with panic as he took in the sight of you struggling on the bed with Ryan. Dean was right behind him, eyes wild, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Dean roared as he charged forward. He didn’t hesitate for a second. With a wild force, he tackled Ryan off the bed, shoving him to the floor with an intensity that rattled the whole room and a force that made Ryan gasp in surprise.

Dean's grip was like iron, his face twisted in a mask of rage that you had only ever seen when someone dared hurt those he loved.

"Did you touch her? Did you touch her, you piece of shit?!" Dean's voice was thick with fury, a low, guttural growl of pure protective rage.

Ryan's eyes widened, his hands scrambling to break free of Dean's grip, but he didn't stand a chance. Dean slammed him into the wall with a thud that sent the room vibrating.

"Did you lay a hand on her?" Dean shouted, his voice cracking with fury. "Did you?" He slammed him against the wall again, fists swinging with devastating precision.

“You a piece of shit! You roofie her too?! Huh?!” He screamed, stopping for a moment and letting the room be still. “Answer me, bitch!” He growled and shoved him harder against the wall. Ryan started chuckling. A chuckle that was so evil, your breath got caught in your throat.

“I almost had you. So close in that bar. You were almost mine.” He confirmed. You, though, stood frozen, shaking violently, your body still trying to comprehend that he was there—that Ryan was there and he was there all along.

Your body felt like it was going to break apart from the inside, each sob ripped from you like it was being torn out of your chest. Your vision blurred with tears as your entire body trembled with fear. Sam rushed to you, holding you close to his chest.

“He’s not going to hurt you, okay? You’re safe. We’ve got you.” Sam’s voice was soft, but strained, as he knelt beside you, trying to ground you, trying to stop you from spiraling. His hands hovered over you, unsure of what to do, but he kept saying it, over and over. “We’ve got you. He’s not going to touch you.”

Dean had Ryan pinned to the floor now, holding him down as he growled, “You fucked with the wrong person.”

Ryan sneered up at him, but Dean didn’t hesitate. He leaned down, his face inches from Ryan’s, his voice low and full of venom, “You’re done.”

But your sobs only grew louder.

Sam, noticing how you were completely falling apart, moved even closer to you, lifting your head up gently and meeting your eyes with his. “Hey. Hey. You’re okay, alright? You’re okay. He’s not going to hurt you. We’re right here.” His voice, though calming, couldn’t seem to reach you. Not through the whirlwind of panic, the choking terror.

You kept gasping, clutching Sam’s shirt like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. “He was going to... he was going to...” Your breath hitched, unable to complete the sentence and then you started to hyperventilate, your lungs unable to keep up.

Sam, visibly desperate, looked over at Dean. “We need to get him out of here. This isn’t helping her.” His voice was tight with emotion as he gently held you, his hands pressing you closer.

Dean’s face twisted in fury as he kept his eyes on Ryan. “We need him gone, completely gone.” Sam confirmed to Dean.

There was a beat of silence, before Dean’s jaw tightened, and he shouted, “CAS!” The desperation was palpable. They needed him. They needed something to stop this nightmare from getting worse. They couldn’t expect him to show up—after all he’s been MIA for the past couple months, but Dean prayed and he prayed hard.

Silence filled the room. It felt like eternity, the weight of it pressing on you, suffocating you. And then, without warning—Cas appeared in a flash of light.

“What is it?” Cas asked, his voice deep and serious. His eyes fell on you instantly, and he didn’t need to ask what was happening.

“We need him gone, Cas.” Dean’s voice was nearly breaking now. He was so close to losing control.

Without a word, Castiel stepped forward, his hand raised. In a flash, Ryan’s entire being seemed to freeze, his eyes glazing over as if everything about him was being wiped away.

For a moment, everything felt eerily still.

And then, Ryan collapsed to the floor, his body limp, his consciousness erased.

“Which timeline do you prefer I send him to?” Cas asked with a low tone.

“The one that’s going to make him suffer the most.” Dean raged. Another flash and Ryan was gone, away from you forever. Castiel turned to Dean, his face unreadable, but the weight of the decision hung heavily in the air.

"He's gone." Castiel said, his voice soft but firm.

"He will never remember anything about himself—let alone her. He will never come back."

Dean's eyes softened as he let go of the breath he'd been holding. "Good.” He said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Good." He stood back as Cas disappeared back into the light. Sam didn’t let go of you though. He stayed close as your body wracked with shudders. Your sobs came in gasps, your chest aching with the effort to release everything inside. You were falling apart, crumbling beneath the weight of what had almost been your reality.

"He was going to... he was going to..." You gasped through your tears, your words barely audible, as though speaking them made the fear real again. Your hands shook as you pressed them against your face, unable to wipe away the tears fast enough. "He was going to touch me. He was going to-"

"No. No, sweetheart," Sam murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "He's not here. He's gone. It's over, okay?" He held you tighter, one hand smoothing through your hair in gentle strokes, but you could feel the panic still surging inside of you, that paralyzing terror. It was a part of you now.

"Did he—did he touch you?” Dean's voice came low, ragged with an edge of panic. His fists were still clenched, his knuckles white from the tension. He couldn’t fully let go of the fury that had surged through him. But he wasn’t just angry at Ryan—he was angry at himself. He was angry because he wasn’t fast enough, because he couldn’t stop it before it almost happened.

You shook your head violently, your body trembling uncontrollably. “No... no, but he... he was going to. He was going to hurt me... I tried to fight him... I tried...” Your voice cracked, and another sob tore through your chest, shaking your body with it. You squeezed your eyes shut, as if doing so would somehow block out the fear.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his eyes scanning you like he was looking for the faintest sign of injury, but all he could see was the deep terror etched on your face. “You fought, kid. You fought him with everything you had,” he said, his voice gruff, though the softness was there too, buried underneath the anger. “You’re safe. You’re safe now.” But it didn’t feel safe. Nothing felt safe.

You clutched at Sam’s shirt, still shaking, still lost in the aftermath of what had almost happened, the sensation of Ryan on top of you, trying to press closer, his hands too damn close. The image wouldn’t leave your mind. You couldn’t make it stop. Your breath hitched in your chest, coming in short, sharp gasps, as if you couldn’t get enough air to fill your lungs.

Sam’s hand continued to stroke your hair, but you couldn’t ground yourself. The panic wasn’t letting go. The terror hadn’t left you, and it was suffocating. Your throat felt tight. Your pulse hammered in your ears.

"I thought he was going to- he was going to touch me, Sam. I couldn’t stop him..." You couldn’t say it without choking on it.

“You stopped him.” Sam whispered, his voice tight with emotion as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “You stopped him. You’re okay.”

But it didn’t feel that way. The room felt like it was closing in, suffocating you. The relief that had swept through your brothers didn’t touch you yet. It didn’t touch the panic that was still eating at you.

Ryan was gone.

Gone.

And yet, your body didn’t stop shaking. You couldn’t find the relief you so desperately craved.

Dean stood in front of you, his hands still twitching as he tried to fight back the overwhelming emotions inside him. “You’re safe now, kiddo,” he said again, his voice a little softer now, but it still held the rawness of everything he’d just been through. “No one’s gonna touch you again. Not him. Not anyone.”

You nodded, but it felt mechanical, like your mind couldn’t catch up to the reality of what was happening. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream—or rather, a nightmare. The only thing you were certain of was that the terror was still with you. And when you looked up at Dean, his eyes softened, but the weight of it all was still there, between you.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

You pressed your face into his chest, your sobs quieting, but still present—too raw, too real. “I was so scared,” you choked out, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if I was going to make it.”

Dean swallowed hard, unable to speak for a moment. His voice was low, barely audible, “I know, kiddo. I know. But you did. You did.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Ryan’s empty space anymore. He was gone, yes—but so was something else: your peace. You didn’t know when it would come back, or if it would ever come back. But for now, at least Ryan couldn’t hurt you anymore.

And you had your brothers. They were here, and they weren’t going anywhere.

It wasn’t over. But you were safe. And you had them. That was enough—for now.

Maybe, just maybe, you could start to heal. Slowly.

This was the first real step towards your peace.

———

It had been a few weeks since everything had happened with Ryan, and things in the bunker were starting to feel normal again—or at least, the new normal. While the shadows of what you had gone through still lingered in small corners of your mind, there was a new, brighter energy in the air. The laughter was coming back, the goofiness, the spark that Dean and Sam had missed.

They could see it. They could feel it.

Dean watched you from across the room one night, a soft, proud smile creeping across his face as you and Sam joked about some ridiculous theory on a case you’d just picked up. Your laughter, unfiltered and full of life, echoed through the halls, and for a moment, he forgot about everything else. He could just hear the sound of you—the real you—being you again. It was a relief, the kind that settled deep into his bones.

You were teasing Sam about how much coffee he was drinking, and Dean could see the way your eyes sparkled as you exchanged insults, the kind of playful back-and-forth that was uniquely you.

He caught Sam's gaze from the corner of the room. Sam, too, was watching you, his face softening as you laughed. The tension in his shoulders had eased since the worst of the storm passed. He could see it, too. The light.

After a while, Dean leaned over to Sam, his voice low enough so you wouldn’t hear.

“You see that?” Dean asked, his voice filled with quiet admiration.

Sam glanced over at you, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Yeah. I do. She’s… coming back. Really coming back.”

Dean nodded, his eyes still fixed on you. “I haven’t seen her like this in a while. Not since before… you know.”

Sam's face softened as he nodded, the shadow of the past still lingering, but less overpowering. “Yeah. I’ve noticed. She’s more her now. It’s like the light inside her is just... brightening again. I mean, hell, just last week, she was practically making fun of my inability to eat my cereal without spilling half of it.”

Dean chuckled at that. “It’s good to see her like that again. I missed it. I missed her.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, eyes still following your movements as you began doing an impromptu dance around the kitchen, spinning a spatula like a baton while pretending to cook. “She’s not just laughing, though. She’s living again,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I think she’s finally starting to feel safe again.”

Dean’s jaw tightened for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides, but his gaze softened again as he watched you. “She deserves that. She deserves to feel safe.”

Sam nodded, his voice heavy with unspoken thoughts. “We both know how much it’s taken for her to get back here. And it’s hard, man. It’s hard to see her like that. But… seeing her like this? It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, his usual bravado fading for just a moment as he took it in. “I don’t know if we can ever really fix her, Sam. Not completely. But we can help her find herself again. And that's more than I thought we could do.”

Sam smiled, his eyes full of understanding. “You’re right. We’re not gonna fix everything. But we can make sure she knows she’s not alone. We’ll help her pick up the pieces. One step at a time.”

Dean exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Yeah, one step at a time.”

Just then, you twirled around, catching their gaze, and flashed them a playful smile.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Am I distracting you guys from your super important brotherly talk?”

Dean couldn’t help but grin, his heart swelling with a strange combination of pride and relief. “Nah. Just admiring my sister’s insane dance moves.”

You raised an eyebrow, and Sam cracked a smile at your dramatic expression. “It’s not every day you get to witness a a crazy person, you know?”

“Oh, please,” you said, flipping your hair. “I’m basically a ballet prodigy in disguise. You should all be so lucky to witness this greatness.”

Sam, fighting back laughter, gestured toward your half-hearted dance. “A true masterpiece. You should really consider putting on a show, huh?”

Dean slapped his hand on the table and made a dramatic gasp. “I’m definitely booking tickets to that show. Front row, too.”

You giggled, the sound of it like music to their ears. “Alright, alright, don’t get too carried away. But you’re welcome for this once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

Dean and Sam both watched you with such quiet affection, their hearts full. It was moments like these that made everything they’d been through worth it. Every sleepless night, every fight, every broken moment.

You were coming back. You were finding your way back to yourself, and that made everything feel a little more right.

Later that night, after you’d gone to bed, Dean and Sam stayed up talking in the kitchen. They didn’t want to admit it, but they both knew something: You were healing.

“She’s not the same, Sam,” Dean murmured, his tone barely above a whisper. “She’s different. Lighter. Stronger.”

Sam nodded, eyes dark but filled with gratitude. “Yeah. She’s her again. And that means everything.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, staring out the kitchen window. “We’ve got a long road ahead, Sam. But I think she’s got it in her. She’s stronger than she thinks. And we’re here. Always.”

Sam smiled softly, clapping Dean on the shoulder. “Yeah. Always.”

And as they sat there in silence, they knew one thing for sure: The worst was behind them. The darkness had passed, and now, they just had to watch as the light you were rediscovering slowly grew brighter.

The road ahead wasn’t going to be easy. But together, with you back to yourself, they could handle anything. Together, they could face the world.

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 5 Nevermore

Chp. 5 Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: Pre-outbreak AU, language, heavy kissing, unprotected piv sex, semi-rough sex, creampie, praise kink, (kinda) size kink, aftercare, fluff and a LOT of angst, light banter, lots of emotions, mentions of past trauma, brief flashback of trauma, another cliffhanger (sorry) A/N: Well, if you're here, I hope you're prepared for what's coming. A HUGE shoutout to @loonmartell for helping co-conspire the trajectory of this story. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it as always <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in love with you. I think he’s already falling in—

“Miss Smith?” 

Your head jerked up at the sound, and the pencil you were drawing circles with fell against your desk. Bradley, one of your students, was standing at the edge of your desk with his test in hand.

“Sorry about that, sweetie,” you smiled, extending a hand. “Thank you.”

Bradley eyed you curiously before turning and skipping back to his desk. You dragged a hand over your face, wanting to crawl into the furthest corner of the world and never be seen again. Beth’s words had been plaguing you for days since you called her. Over and over again, they annihilated your thoughts, a constant broken record that you couldn’t shut off. You still had your nightly calls with Joel, talking past midnight and falling asleep together, but you kept making excuses not to see him. 

“I’ve got lesson plans to make,” you lied.

“I’ll help,” Joel had offered.

“You’re a distraction.”

“I ain’t that bad,” he huffed.

The next night, you lied and said you were going out with Maria, which was an even worse lie since you were avoiding her at all costs. Telling Beth the news was one thing, but telling Maria was another matter. She was nosey and a bit too loud-mouthed to trust. The last thing you wanted was for the entire faculty to know your dirty secrets. Joel had to remain a secret—at least for now.

It’s not like you wanted to avoid Joel; you were just scared. You were not ready for this new territory, and if Beth was anywhere near correct in her assumptions, it only made you want to shy away more. The only problem was parent-teacher conferences this week, meaning you’d have to see Joel and Sarah…together.

The class bell rang, and your free period between classes began. You dropped your head on the desk and took a few deep breaths, trying to wrangle some semblance of calm back into your body. The final class of the day would be Sarah’s, and you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to see her. The blaring reminder that her dad had fucked you sore over the weekend still hung over your head, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it. How was your fall break, Sarah? Oh yeah, mine was great. Your dad fucked me so hard I ended up having a complete breakdown. 

Fuck. 

You wanted the day to be over. 

The free period went by much faster than you wanted, and as you watched the next slew of kids take their seats, you made a conscious effort not to stare at Sarah as she walked in. She wore her usual smile, the impression of her dimples digging into her cheeks. Some wild thought popped into your head that you had no time to recover from: if you and Joel went any further, God help you, you’d be Sarah’s step-mom one day. Your stomach rolled with nausea as you tried to will those thoughts away. Joel wouldn’t stick around that long; you were a lost cause. There was no chance that would happen. Right? 

Clearing your throat, you rose from your desk and made your way over to the projector to set up the lesson for the day. Since the school year was nearing Halloween, you decided it would be fun to teach Edgar Allen Poe, completely forgetting you had chosen “The Raven”—which was about losing someone. This would have a bite to it that you weren’t ready for.

“Okay, everyone,” you announced. “Did we all finish the reading assignment this week?”

There were a few nods and murmurs of agreement, and you quickly shifted to the first few slides of your presentation. 

“Alright, so who can tell me the overall theme for Poe’s ‘The Raven’?”

Georgia, one of your top students, shot her hand up without a beat.

“Yes, Georgia?”

“It’s about his grief for losing Lenore,” she answered.

“Good,” you smiled. “Can anyone tell me what other theme the poem contains?”

“Madness!” Another student chimed in, causing an uproar of laughter amongst the students.

“Okay, okay, settle down. Very good, you guys.”

You switched to the next slide, staring blankly at the words typed out. Lenore is gone forever. Something struck you as you silently read it, realizing you weren’t too far off from Poe in his grief. Although Bennett wasn’t dead, he wasn’t coming back. That fact hadn’t hurt as deeply throughout the last few weeks, especially with Joel around, but it still threw salt in the open wounds still scattered over your heart. 

“In stanza two,” you cleared your throat. “In stanza two, Poe refers to Lenore as ‘nameless,’ which can imply that she has died, and he’s now consumed with grief. Where else did you guys find his grief prominent?”

Georgia quickly raised her hand again, and you motioned for her to speak. 

“In stanza four, he talks about his dreams, which I think he means he’s dreaming of her to return to him. But if she’s dead, there’s no way she’s going to come back,” Georgia said.

Fuck. You felt the sting of tears rim your eyes and briefly paused to gather your bearings. Bennett left. He left, and you had spent years dreaming he would return. 

“Good,” you choked out.

You glanced around the room, your eyes connecting with Sarah’s. It took all your strength not to break down and cry as she studied you with the same concerned furrow in her brows as her dad would do. 

Clicking to the next slide, you exhaled, focusing on the following theme to discuss. Madness. 

“Now, with the theme of madness, where do we see this begin? Obviously, the dreams can be interpreted as his descent into madness, but what else do we find?” You asked. 

To your detriment, Sarah was the one to raise her hand.

“Sarah,” you sighed, nodding.

“It’s the raven,” she said plainly. “The raven is what drives him mad.”

“What does he do to drive Poe mad?” You questioned.

“The raven only says one word,” she explained. “And that word drives him mad until the end of the poem.

“And why does it drive him mad?”

Sarah shifted in her seat, looking around at her classmates before responding.

“Because it’s the answer Poe doesn’t want to hear. Poe doesn’t want to be reminded that Lenore is dead, but that’s the only response the raven will give.”

You were swaying in place, trying to hold yourself together as the memories started ricocheting back into your mind. Now wasn’t the time to collapse, not in front of twenty students staring at you, confused and concerned. You only responded with a nod and flipped the projector off.

“Good job, you guys. Now, does anyone have any questions on this unit? Any questions about the stanza format or the themes?”

Sarah raised her hand again.

“Did his madness kill him?” She asked.

“Who?”

“Poe.”

“Oh, um, no. Well, it’s a mystery, really. Some people say he died of delirium, so, I guess, madness. But other people speculate he drank himself to death.”

The class grew morbidly quiet, which made it harder for you to continue. No one else spoke up after Sarah, so you resorted to handing out the quiz and sinking back into your desk chair.

One by one, the students came up to turn in their quiz, and you averted your gaze each time with a nonchalant ‘thank you.’ When the final bell finally sounded through the room, you hardly had the energy to wave goodbye. 

Sarah was the last to leave, and that same concerned look lingered on her face as she shuffled out. 

That night, you didn’t pick up the phone when Joel called. You stared as it rang repeatedly, watching the light fade from the screen when the ringing stopped. You buried your head under the covers and tried to sleep, but then the nightmares started.

You woke up to your alarm, hyperventilating and drenched in sweat. Squinting at the morning sun streaming through the blinds, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Your fingers froze as you read the screen.

Seven missed calls from Joel

Two voicemails from Joel

With shaky fingers, you pressed play on the first voicemail.

“Hey baby, it’s me. I just wanna make sure you’re okay. I’m hopin’ you’re just asleep, but if you’re up, please call me.”

Then you played the next.

“Baby, it’s me again. I miss you, and I’m worried ‘bout you. Please don’t shut me out, okay? I just wanna hear your voice and hear ‘bout your day. If you don’t wanna talk, that's okay. I understand. Just please lemme know you’re alright. I’ll drive my ass out to you if I need to just to make sure you’re okay. Call me when you get this. G’night, baby.”

You dug your knuckles into your eyes to try and force the tears back. Last night, you had the worst of the nightmares: the memory of something you tried to forget. You hadn’t touched that memory in so long. It was just the brutal realization you were truly at fault for everything with Bennett. No matter how badly you wanted to blame him, it was always your fault. 

Glancing back at your phone, you rechecked the time: 7:35. Fuck, you were running late, and you really didn’t want to call Joel back right now. At least not right now. You’d muster the energy and strength to do it later, but you needed to gather yourself and get ready for work right now. Tossing off the sweat-slick sheets, you rushed into the bathroom and quickly showered. You couldn’t bother to put makeup on, so you opted to go without it and found a simple dress to wear. It was still in the high eighties in Austin, and a dress was the easiest option for the day. 

Scrambling for your purse and keys, you ran to the garage to start your car and head to the school. 

It wasn’t until you pulled into your parking spot that you realized you left your phone on the nightstand. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Maria questioned, sipping her lukewarm coffee. 

She had nagged you into spending your free period in her classroom, demanding that you tell her everything that you had been withholding. You sat on the edge of her desk, your dress flowing over your knees as you stared out her class windows. 

“Nothing, Maria,” you lied. 

She said your name sternly, forcing your eyes to snap to hers. Her usual chipper demeanor was replaced with that ‘mother’ look, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed. 

“Something is going on,” she pressed. “Could have something to do with Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. 

“You did it, huh?” She raised a brow. 

You exhaled heavily, nodding your head—no point in lying now. 

“We talked on the phone the entire break, and when I got home, he insisted on taking me on a date. Then one thing led to another… and yeah, we had sex.”

Maria squealed, clapping her hands and grinning wide. You stared at her blankly, unamused by her reaction to your words. 

“This isn’t a good thing, Maria,” you said pointedly. 

“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re finally putting yourself out there! Oh my god, was it good?” 

“It was,” you sighed. “It was good—really good. He’s so sweet and caring.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” she interjected. 

“But I can’t let it go any further,” you finished. 

Maria leaned forward and placed her hand on your knee. 

“Does he make you happy?” She asked softly. 

“So fucking happy, Maria. I hate it.”

“You deserve to be happy, sweetie. That’s all I’ve been saying for years, and now you have it! Don’t force it to fail before it even begins. I saw the way he looked at you at the father-daughter dance. You can’t fake that.”

“I know. I know. I just—ugh,” you slid off the desk with a groan. “He’s too good for me. I’m still trying to get over Bennett and everything that happened. He doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all my misery. That’s not fair to him.” 

You were pacing around the room, your eyes darting between the science posters hanging along the walls of Maria’s classroom. You heard her desk chair scrape against the floor as she approached you. She gripped you by the shoulders and leveled you with a heavy stare, but her eyes remained soft. 

“He’s still around, right? I don’t think he’s going anywhere, sweetie. If anything, I think he’s in it for the long haul.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you leaned into her, letting her wrap you up in a motherly embrace. She rubbed circles against your back, hushing you as you wept quietly. 

The rest of the day passed by in a numbing blur. You packed your things quietly and headed to your car, ready to drown yourself in a glass of wine. 

Joel’s truck was parked in front of your house as you turned the corner onto your street. His tall figure was leaning against the driver’s door; his eyes focused on your car as you pulled into the driveway. You inhaled sharply before putting your car in park, mentally preparing yourself for whatever anger he might unleash. 

You barely shut the car door before Joel had his arms around you, tugging you into a warm embrace. You couldn’t make sense of it; why wasn’t he mad? He should be angry at you. 

“Joel?” you whispered, your fingers twisting into his shirt. He smelt of cedarwood and smoke, the lingering scent of the workday still on his clothes. 

“I was so fuckin’ worried ‘bout you,” he muttered into your hair. “Been tryin’ to get ahold of you all day.”

“I left my phone at home this morning,” you explained. “I listened to your voicemails from last night. I’m sorry I didn’t call back. I was just running late this morning.”

“Why didn’t you pick up last night?’ He asked, pulling away. 

“I needed some space. I’m just trying to figure this all out. I want you—I want this. I just don’t know how to be fully vulnerable. I know that’s silly to say since I’ve cried every time I’ve seen you.” You laughed at the thought of it.

“You coulda just told me that, baby. I would’ve understood,” Joel sighed. 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Of course not,” he smiled softly. “Had me worryin’ like crazy, but I ain’t mad. I know this is all new, and you’re scared. Just don’t shut me out, ‘kay? I wanna talk to you and understand what’s goin’ on with you. I told you I wanna work on it with you.”

“I’m s—.”

Joel was pressing his lips against yours before you could say those two words. The kiss was all-consuming and tender, strong enough to erase every thought in your mind. Your mouths moved in unison, tongues intertwined and exploring. It was dizzying to be kissed this fervently; the first kiss couldn’t hold a torch to this moment. You tangled your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck, slanting your lips to open yourself even more to him. Joel’s hands twisted into the fabric of your dress that hugged your hips and pulled you tighter against his body. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock straining in his jeans, and he hauled you upwards until you were wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the metal of your car door, breaking away from your mouth to kiss down your neck. Was it possible to be branded by a dozen kisses? He left a trail of sweltering kisses over every exposed part of your upper body, and all you could do was pant and moan helplessly. To hell with the neighborhood and their lingering eyes; the world around you could collapse, and you’d still be clinging to his body. 

“I told you I didn’t wanna hear those apologies,” Joel muttered against the hollow of your neck. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Joel?” You moaned, his teeth grazing your collarbone. 

“All I want right now is to hear you screamin’ my name, so you better invite me inside before I fuck you right here.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

“Wrong name, baby.”

With one strong arm braced around your back and a firm hand on your ass, Joel carried you out of the driveway and through the open garage. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the bare patches in his beard. Joel stumbled into the living room and sat you on the edge of the couch. You clung to him, refusing to lay back, too afraid to disconnect from his body. There was something so addicting, so right about being in his arms—almost familiar. 

“Y’look so beautiful in this dress, baby,” Joel breathed. “Turn around.”

You unattached yourself from him, spinning until your thighs pushed against the leather of the couch. Joel’s hands roamed over your calves, dragging your dress up until it piled against your lower back. You gasped as his fingers tore apart your underwear, the scraps falling down your legs and piling at your feet. It was embarrassing how wet you were already, your slick coating your inner thighs. 

“Joel,” you whined as he swiped a finger through your wet folds.

“Use your words,” he hummed, slowly pushing in two fingers.

“I need you, Joel.” He curled his fingers against the spot that left you breathless, coaxing you to speak more. “Need it rough—please.” 

You needed to feel how bad he needed you; you needed to show him you wanted him, even if it meant doing it without saying it aloud.

“Y’want it rough, baby? I can do that. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” you exhaled. 

Joel pulled his fingers from you, bringing them to your mouth and smearing your arousal over your parted lips. You hummed as you tasted yourself, pushing your ass back into him. You heard the clang of his belt and the soft sound of his jeans hitting the floor before he swiped his cock across your slick entrance.

“Don’t be gentle,” you moaned.

“Anythin’ you want, baby.”

That was all he said before splitting you open, the fullness of his cock inside you robbing you of all the breath in your lungs. Joel kept his hips flush with yours, his fingertips drifting down the fabric of your dress covering your spine. 

“Joel,” you whined. 

You shifted yourself onto the tips of your toes, nudging yourself back until the tip of his cock rubbed against the right spot inside you. You mewled at the sensation, wiggling your hips to find some sort of relief from the pleasure churning inside your stomach.

“Impatient, baby?” Joel teased.

He moved against you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You had been in such a haze last time you hadn’t realized how big he actually was, but now you felt every glorious inch of him inside you. You let out another frustrated whimper, and Joel responded with an onslaught of forceful thrusts. Your body shoved further into the couch, your midsection rubbing against the edge every time Joel snapped his hips against yours. 

Joel’s hand snaked around your neck, drawing you back into his chest, the angle of his cock spearing deeper inside you. Your wails turned to sobs as you listened to Joel grunting harder behind you, his fingers squeezing rhythmically around your throat. 

“That’s it, baby,” Joel crooned. “That’s it. Doin’ so well for me.”

You gasped for air as the desire coiling within your core became agonizing and all-consuming. Your fingers wrapped around his hand holding you up, clawing at his skin as his thrusts became erratic and determined. You were teetering on the edge of euphoria, your body buzzing with pleasure. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” Joel whispered into your ear. 

You fought against your dress to find your clit, the instant connection of your fingers causing you to cry out. Joel’s mouth ravaged your neck, sucking marks into the skin as you drew tantalizing circles over the sensitive bud. It was right there— that explosive pleasure bubbling under the surface. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice strained under his grip. “Don’t—right there. Right there, Joel!”

Joel quickened the pace, your eyes blurring as your orgasm raced through your veins and set your nerves ablaze. Your sex clenched around his cock, forcing him to slow his thrusts as he groaned into your ear. 

“S’fuckin’ good, baby,” he punched out, releasing your neck.

“More,” you heaved. 

“Think y’can take it?” He asked, pinning you down onto the couch cushions.

“Just want you, Joel,” you said. Your words were muffled into the couch as you exhaled, “Want everything with you.” 

You didn’t know if Joel heard you, and you prayed he didn’t. Your brain was lost in some euphoric haze, dizzying you and your ability to control your emotions. Joel knew every part of your body, like the back of his hand. He knew exactly what you needed and what you wanted, and it was so confusing. 

But all your thoughts grew quiet as the lewd sounds of your arousal and his ragged breathing echoed around the house. Joel’s hand pressed into your hair as he pushed you further into the couch. Bent over this way, you were entirely at his mercy, putty in his hands, and helpless. 

“Swear y’were fuckin’ made for me, baby,” Joel grunted. “You’re mine, baby. Mine.”

“Yours,” you cried. “I’m—.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Joel seized up, choking out your name as he spilled into you. His body slumped over yours, the weight of his chest heavy against your back. The hammering of his heart matched yours as you both recovered in silence, the house growing quiet aside from your labored breathing. 

“Too rough?” Joel muttered into your hair. 

You shifted your face to the side, rewarded by his lips pressing into your cheek. 

“Perfect,” you sighed. “It was perfect.”

“You weren’t lyin’ when you said you weren’t a fan of vanilla, huh?” Joel chuckled, pulling out of you. 

You slumped further into the couch, laughing softly. 

“I was talking about cake, Joel. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Sure you were, baby. Stay right there, okay?”

You heard his footsteps disappear toward your bedroom, the distant sound of water turning on and off floating down the hallway. A second later, Joel was behind you again, the cool touch of a towel making you jerk away in shock. He gently rubbed the cloth over your inner thighs, taking extra caution of your sore entrance. You’d feel him everywhere tomorrow, and you didn’t hate that for some reason—you wanted the reminder of him. 

“C’mere,” Joel urged, helping you stand. 

He pulled you over to the couch, curling you into his arms and bracing you against his chest. Joel intertwined his fingers with yours, his breathing evening out as you shimmed further into his embrace. Maybe it was the sex, maybe it was just being around him, but all your doubts and worries seemed to fade away. It was just this moment; you and him with limbs entangled together. 

“Tell me somethin’ no one knows about you,” Joel whispered. 

“Only if you tell me something in return.”

“Of course, baby.”

You paused, considering all the possibilities of what you could share. You had forgotten pieces of yourself over the years, the layers of heartbreak and trauma suffocating the person you once were. You still weren’t sure if that girl you had once been was still inside you. 

“I hate pancakes,” you said.

Joel laughed, his body shaking behind you as you buried your head into the couch. 

“Pancakes? Really?” He teased. 

“I just don’t like them!” You defended. 

“Y’gonna tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled. “They’re just too sweet.”

“So y’don’t like sugar in your coffee, and y’think pancakes are too sweet,” Joel mused. “What do you like?”

“Don’t tease me, Joel.”

His fingers prodded your sides, forcing you to shriek at the contact. You hated to be tickled and hated it even more when he kept you pinned to your chest with nowhere to go. You rolled toward him, squirming against his touch. Joel leaned in to kiss you softly, muffling your protests as you settled into his arms. 

“Your turn,” you sighed. 

“Hmm, well, I like pancakes.”

“Be serious, Joel,” you frowned. 

“Okay, okay. I love watchin’ cartoons.”

You giggled, watching that grin stretch across his face. 

“Been watchin’ them with Sarah since she was a kid,” he chuckled. “I still do sometimes, even if she ain’t home.” 

“That’s cute,” you smiled.

You brought your fingers to his face, scratching at the stubble covering his chin and jaw. Joel’s eyes shut as your touch drifted over the patchy spots, your fingertips drawing circles in the places his beard disconnected. 

“Tell me somethin’ else,” he said.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

It was a quick response—almost too fast—but you couldn’t swallow back the words. You glanced up at him, peeking through your lashes to see his brown eyes soften. 

“Handsome, huh?”

“Well, I can’t call you cute,” you scrunched your nose. “It doesn’t fit you. I like handsome more.”

“I like it,” he smiled. “Call me handsome all y’want.”

You dragged him to your mouth, saying everything you couldn’t form into words. Joel moved with you, his head tilting and mouth molding to yours. He made everything feel so simple; maybe that’s what scared you. It was too easy with him—falling into this idyllic routine. Joel mumbled your name, pulling himself reluctantly from your lips. You chased one more kiss and settled back into his chest. 

“Did you know it’s good luck when it rains on your wedding day?” You thought out loud.

Joel tensed up, his arms flexing around you. 

“Superstition says it means your marriage will last,” you continued. “I’ve always thought it was funny, you know? I used to believe in that before my wedding, but after that, I figured everyone had lied to me.”

“Baby,” Joel whispered. 

“No, it’s okay. There’s a point to this, I promise.”

“Tell me,” he urged softly.

“I think the rain was good luck. Maybe not in the way people think, but I don’t think Bennett and I were meant to get married. My sister hated me for going through with it. We didn’t really talk once Bennett and I got engaged. Everyone warned me about him; they told me he wasn’t who I should be with. I was so stubborn to make things work. He—he was there for me during a really awful time in my life. I thought I owed it to him to stay.

“But then here you are, and it makes me re-think everything. The rain? It’s still good luck, just in a different way. I wasn’t meant to be with him because maybe… maybe I was meant to be with you.”

Joel was painfully quiet, his eyebrows furrowing together as he closed his eyes. Oh, fuck. You had rambled out everything you were scared to say, and now it was biting you in the ass. This was why you were too afraid to acknowledge your feelings: the rejection. Joel didn’t see it the same way; he didn’t think of you in the same way, and you just made a complete idiot of yourself. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, trying to pry yourself out of his grip. You kept the tears at bay, trying not to let yourself succumb to the heartbreak shattering inside you. 

Joel’s hands wrangled you back to his chest, his eyes leveling with yours. You inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed away the rogue tears falling down your cheeks. 

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind y’were meant for me, baby. I’m thankin’ God every day for bringin’ you into my life,” Joel confessed. “I know this is all new, but I promise to keep provin’ myself because whatever this is between us, it’s real.”

“It’s real,” you echoed. 

“Don’t run away from me,” Joel pleaded. “Gimmie all the good and bad stuff. I swear I can handle it.”

“What if you get tired of me? What if I’m not enough?” You rambled. 

“I could never get tired of you, baby. If anythin’, I keep wantin’ more.”

You snuggled further into his embrace, inhaling his scent as you pressed your nose into his chest. Joel ran a hand through your hair, his fingers catching on a few knots left from earlier. 

“What’d you mean when you said he was there for you durin’ somethin’ awful?” Joel asked after a beat of silence. 

Flashes of the crash came back into your mind, or at least the ones you could recall. You squeezed your eyes shut as your nightmares began to see the light of day. It was a memory you never liked to revisit.

“Easy,” your mom whispered. “Easy, honey. Don’t move too much, okay? Take it slow.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the harsh lights above you burning into your retinas as you tried to adjust to the room fading into the forefront. You were tucked into a hospital bed, IVs and tubes sticking out of both arms. Your head was pounding, and everything hurt. That’s all you could focus on. Everything hurt so fucking bad.

“Bennett?” You croaked, searching the room. 

Your mom, dad, Beth, and Stella were all grouped around the foot of the bed, their eyes glassy with tears. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Beth’s fear-stricken eyes shifted from your mom to your dad before she bolted from the room.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” your mom announced, turning and leaving the room.

Stella shifted uncomfortably and promptly followed, leaving your dad alone at the foot of your bed.

“How’re you feeling, peanut?” He asked, rounding to the side of your bed.

“Pain,” you cried softly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he assured. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Baby?” Joel said cautiously. 

“S–sorry,” you mumbled. “I don’t know if I really want to talk about it.”

Joel’s brows scrunched together, his eyes staring at you with concern. You turned away from him, lifting yourself from the couch. Pacing the living room, you stared blankly at your bookshelf beside your entertainment center, still collecting dust after two years. You heard Joel shift against the couch behind you and glanced back to see him staring at you intensely. Anxiety was thrumming in your chest the longer you stood in front of him, too many thoughts reeling inside your mind. You never talked about the accident; you didn’t want to be reminded of what had been the catalyst in your relationship's failure. Because that’s what it was. You owed everything to Bennett for sticking by your side through it all, and in the end, you weren’t enough. Nothing you did was enough to salvage what had been your life with him before it all.

“Hey,” Joel exhaled. “C’mere.”

“I—I need a minute,” you cried.

You bolted from the living room and went down the hall, gasping for air when you reached the edge of your bed. The room was spinning as you dropped your head in your hands, the nausea surging up inside you the longer you stayed stuck in the memory. You needed out of it; you needed out. You needed—.

Joel rushed into the room, falling to his knees in front of you as he said your name over and over to coax you out of the trance. Nothing was working. Your head was throbbing in pain, and you couldn’t work around it. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” Joel whispered. “Breathe.”

You heaved in a lung full of air, only to choke on it and gag back the nausea crawling up your throat. Joel rubbed his hands over your thighs, the sensation of his touch jarring you enough to make you cringe. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he crooned, a distant echo of your dad's words. “It’s okay.”

The shrilling sound of your phone ringing pulled you both from the moment, and you crawled over the bed to grab it. 

Beth

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I can’t—I can’t answer it.”

“Give it to me, I’ll do it,” Joel offered with an outstretched hand. 

You practically tossed it at him while you crumpled into the sheets with your hands clutching your head. 

“Hello?” He answered with a brief pause before he said, “This is Joel.”

Silence.

“Fuck, okay. Gimmie a second,” he replied.

“Baby, she needs to talk to you,” Joel said.

You stifled your cries before taking your phone from his hand, already hearing Beth’s frantic voice on the other end of the receiver. 

“Beth, what is it?” You asked, your body shaking. 

“It’s dad, sis. You’ve got to come home, okay?”

[bookshelf-dust]

when it's rainin'

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 2,666 ;)

warnings: swearing, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, kinda newly established relationship, a few sexual innuendos, fluff

a/n: hi! this was very self-indulgent for me and i am decidedly dedicating this fic to all of my fellow thunderstorm fearers. i see you. i am you. i hope this isn't too bad. i revised it too many times and i'm still feeling a little fretful over it. also, the title is a fleetwood mac lyric. bite me. anyways, please let me know what you think! mwah mwah i love you <333

————

“Billy, I gotta get going.”

You squeeze the fat of his thigh where it’s draped over both of your legs. He takes hold of your wrist; his grip gentle, if not a little teasing. 

He turns to look at you, head lolling against the back of the couch. His hair is pushed up messily behind him on the cushion. You know that if he were to sit up, it’d be matted in the way that it gets when he lays on it for too long. 

Billy knows the cogs in your brain are at work. The beginnings of a cocky smirk play at the corners of his mouth. He furrows his brow, faux concern written all across his face, as if something’s wrong. 

“But it’s rainin’, baby.” He gives his head a little shake, like he can’t believe you’d leave in weather like this.

His smirk is in full bloom when he laces his fingers with yours and lifts your hand up to his mouth. You turn to look out the window and feel him press a kiss to your knuckles. 

He’s buttering you up and you know it. 

“It’s just rain, Hargrove. And I do know how to drive.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the rain picks up, enough so that you can hear it pounding against the roof. 

Billy laughs, low and sweet. You glare at him.

“Fine. I’ll wait it out.”

“Mhm,” he grunts, peeling his leg off of yours and repositioning himself on the couch. He leans up against the arm, and holds his own out to you. You know what he’s doing, so you oblige. 

Billy loves to watch storms, and holding you this way makes for a better view out the window. You lean into him, back pressed to his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and buries his face in your neck. 

There’s a crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder that follows seems to shake the earth itself. Your stomach drops. This is exactly what you hadn’t wanted to happen, and now you’re stuck here, with Billy, internally panicking over a thunderstorm. Admittedly, you do feel a bit safer than you would alone in your bedroom, but this fear isn’t exactly something you share with others. 

“You can’t drive home in that,” he argues. 

You grab hold of Billy’s forearms, his skin warm under your palms. “I said I’d wait it out,” you mumble. 

He kisses the side of your throat, and it’s the kind of kiss you might feel lingering there for the rest of the day. Like his lips have left a searing brand against your skin. 

“You could just stay,” he drawls. 

“Billy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and moves his face back from you. “Yeah, I know. You don’t love me.”

You let yourself slide further down the couch until your head rests on Billy’s tummy. He doesn’t let go of you though, hands rubbing over your collarbones. “That’s not fair.”

It thunders then, at a volume you couldn’t have expected. It rattles both you and the windows, making you jump. 

“You okay?” Billy’s tone is sincere. 

You sit back up a little bit, and he uses the leverage to pull you into him. He wraps his arms around you completely, enveloping you in warmth and the scent of his body wash. The gesture is protective. He can see the way you glance out the window, and he thinks you might be looking for that flash, that queue for another rumble. 

“‘M fine. Scared me is all.”

Your grip on Billy’s knee says otherwise. He thinks he understands.

“I’ve never been with you during a storm before. You don’t like ‘em?”

You glance back at him. The concern on his face is genuine this time, but you can still see that underlying tendency to tease, like he’s ready to use it when he feels necessary. 

“Rain is fine,” you start. “I love it, actually. It’s just when it gets like this, when you can’t see down the driveway anymore and it’s windy. I really don’t like the wind.”

It is pretty damn windy. Billy hadn’t noticed it until you pointed it out. It makes him glad he parked under the carport today, knowing this is the kind of storm that leaves a mess behind. 

You’re starting to panic, not only because you’ve just told Billy about your childish fear, but also because you don’t know what kind of weather they’re calling for. You live in Indiana, for fucks sake. You don’t like that all of this is out of your control, that there’s nothing you can do but wait it out. 

“Hey, look at me.” Billy says, voice low and enticing. It pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. Your fingers are cold where they press into his legs. You twist around to face him and his hands meet your cheeks. His eyes are boring into yours. 

He kisses you. It’s slow, measured. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and demands your full attention. 

You realize too late that it’s a distraction. You don’t jump when it thunders this time. 

Billy pulls away, pleased with the blissed out look on your face. With the fact that he’s seemingly calmed you down for the moment. 

“That sweatshirt you like is on my bed. Why don’t you go get it, huh?”

You nod and he steadies you when you climb off of him and the couch. Billy wants to look at the weather, but he also wants to take care of you. He’s not letting you drive home tonight. 

You slip down the hall and Billy uses the time to flip the channel, assuming the weather will be on. 

You find his sweatshirt where he told you it’d be and stop at the foot of his bed, pulling it on over your head. It smells like him. Not like his cologne or cigarettes, but like the Billy who took a shower and got cold, who fell asleep earlier than usual and slept in more clothes than he ever has—this sweatshirt included. 

You see the lightning this time and are able to brace yourself for the thunderclap that follows. You still scramble back to the living room, seeking refuge in Billy. 

Your footsteps are quiet despite your panic, and Billy only notices you’ve entered the room because he’d sat up firmly against the back of the couch. You’re chewing on your lip, staring at the warnings flying across the screen. “What’d it say?” 

Billy turns the tv off. “Nothing bad baby, promise.” He holds out his hands and scoots to the edge of his seat, pulling you to stand in between his legs. He closes them against your own, gently trapping you there. “Just that it was gonna be stormy the rest of the night.”

Your brow furrows. “It’s not gonna let up?”

“Doesn’t look like it.” This time you catch the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. Clearly he’s happy with himself and the weather. 

Billy’s always loved these kinds of storms, and he hates that you don’t, but if he can get rain and his baby to spend the night all in one go? He’ll be pretty damn content. 

You realize that you should’ve watched the weather report this morning, but it seems that when you know you’ll be spending time with Billy, he’s the only thing that occupies your brain. 

“Dammit,” you say. 

Billy squeezes at your hips, and it makes you look down at him. There’s a pout on his face: the crease between his brows deepening, his bottom lip jutting out just that little bit. He squeezes harder now that he’s got your attention. 

“Something wrong with staying here? You really wanna go home that bad?” 

Billy’s teasing and you know it. You know that he’d let you go if you actually wanted to, that he’d worry until you got home and called him to say you were okay. You also know that he wants you to stay, and you’ve known that since you got to his place and saw the relief on his face. Hell, he hasn’t stopped touching you since then either. He’s plenty needy today. 

You cup his face with your hands, swipe your thumb over the smattering of freckles under his eye. His fingers have made their way under the hem of your (his) shirt and are pressing into your skin. 

“I didn’t say that. I just told my parents that I wouldn’t be home too late.”

“So call and say you’re staying the night, that you don’t want to drive home in this weather.”

You decide then that maybe you don’t need to overthink this so much. That maybe you shouldn’t let your brain ruin what could be a nice night. 

“Okay.”

Billy blinks up at you.

You move away from him and then you’re picking up the phone from its place on the wall, punching in your home number. 

Billy can’t believe that worked. You never listen to him. And clearly you recognize this given that you’re hiding a grin with the back of your hand as you talk. The phone call is over quickly, and when you walk back over to him, Billy pulls you down into his lap. Your fingers find their way into his hair before you can even think about it. 

“Have I behaved better than I thought?” Billy asks, tentatively rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You grin at him and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s warmer than it should be, because somehow you’ve managed to fluster him. 

“You keep giving me your pitiful little looks, Billy.”

He scoffs. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, pretty boy.”

He blushes. Goddamnit, Billy thinks. You can read him much too easily now. He’s really fucked. 

Billy exhales. “I’ve wanted you to stay the night for weeks. But you always had to be home or somethin’. And the storm seems to be working in my favor tonight, y’know?” He gives you this look then, his eyes traveling across your face, down your neck and back up. He bats his lashes at you and you slap him on the shoulder. 

He acts as though he’s appalled, grabbing you by the waist and maneuvering you off of him and onto the couch. Billy braces himself against the cushions and hovers over top of you. “Now that was just rude.”

“You deserved it,” you bite back, leaning up to swipe the tip of your tongue across the end of his nose. “Hate it when you flirt with me.”

Billy rolls his eyes and lets his weight drop down on top of you, causing you to voice an audible oof. 

He props himself up on his elbows, face inches from yours. “Mhm. Hate it when your boyfriend flirts with you. I believe it.”

You start to say something, something he knows will be a smartass remark, so Billy presses his lips to yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You make a noise of surprise and Billy starts to laugh against your mouth, a low chuckle that makes you want to both keep kissing him and shove him on the floor. 

Billy pulls away to press kisses to both of your cheeks and the center of your throat. You’re lost in his affection when it thunders again, making you jolt underneath him. He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek. “Hey. S’okay.”

You start to nod when the lights flicker, and you swear your heart falls out of your ass. Please don’t let the power go out, you think. He can read the panic on your face. 

“Okay,” Billy grunts, pushing himself to stand. “New plan.”

You sit up, and Billy quickly hooks one arm around your back, the other under your thighs. He hoists you up and over his shoulder, making you squeal with how swift the action is. But you don’t protest, and only hope that he won’t drop you on the way to his next destination.

Billy sets you down on his bed.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, running your hands down your face. You realize too quickly the opening you’ve given him.

He leans in to kiss your forehead, though he pulls away and lets his mouth linger over the shell of your ear. 

“You can ride anytime you want, baby.”

You fall back onto his mattress. “Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, honey. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

You hold back a groan at his antics. “I really should’ve gone home.” 

Billy laughs and lands a playful smack to the side of your thigh before moving towards his dresser. 

You push up on your elbows to watch him sort through his clothes. He grabs a couple things and brings them to you before pulling his own shirt off over his head. 

“Why are you stripping?” You question, looking over the shirt and shorts he’d handed you. 

“If you think that’s stripping, clearly I haven’t been good enough to you,” Billy snorts.

You grin up at him. “Are these for me?” you ask, holding onto the bundle of fabric in your hands. 

“Mhm. For you to sleep in.”

You nod hesitantly, having just seen a flash outside of Billy’s window. This time the rumble is just that, not a clap, not enough to rattle the windows in their frames. 

Billy moves towards his door, with the promise of getting more blankets, allowing you a moment to change. He comes back with water for you, too.

He kicks the door closed behind him, internally melting at the sight of you in his clothes. You’re so pretty, it physically hurts him. He’s never felt that way in his life. 

Billy gets you to drink some for him before you’re scooting further into his bed and he’s kicking off his sweats. 

You watch him move around the room, the way the muscles of his back move as he’s shutting blinds and pulling makeshift curtains closed. He turns off the overhead light, leaving only that coming from the lamps he has. 

You’re in awe of how easy it is for him to take care of you. How he didn’t pester you for being afraid of the storm but instead has comforted you and seems dedicated to keeping you safe. 

Billy finally slips into bed beside you. “What are we doing?” you ask, eyeing his torso while he settles in. He pretends not to notice. 

“I’m protecting you from the big bad storm, baby.” He kisses your hairline. 

You smile at him, one of pure joy that starts slow and grows brilliantly. The both of you are bundled up like it’s some big sleepover, or like you’ve stayed up hiding a book beneath the sheets. 

“Well, I’m not sleepy. So what’d you wanna do? Tell secrets?” 

Billy props his head up, palm cradling the base of his skull, elbow squishing his pillow. He laughs and squeezes at your hip. 

“Trivia? Talk about boys?” you continue. 

He shakes his head, his smile matching yours and making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Sometimes he can’t believe he landed you. “You got a boy you wanna talk about?”

You snort. “Mhm. There’s one I like. He’s pretty but super grumpy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep.”

“I think trivia might be better since you’re just going to bully me.” 

Billy flops down on his back. You push up so you can hover over him. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Billy rolls his eyes but kisses you again, pulling your face down to meet his, mouth warm against yours. The next round of thunder is louder than the last and your heart rate picks up, but with him here it feels okay.

It’s hard not to feel safe when he takes such good care of you, when he’s warm enough that everything feels protected, like you could weather any storm with him and his smart ass mouth.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson (for being such a gem and helping me)