#oh well gonna figure it out on the next one!

[velaenam]

𝟏𝟎-𝟒

                                                                         ◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. t minus 36 hours before captain caleb would be stationed overseas for war. he wanted to make his couple hours matter. with you. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – NSFW!! (18+) NASTY.. DIRTY..SMUT!!! . wartime setting/era, swearing, overstimulation, cunnilingus, blow jobs, missionary, lots of touching, creampie, groping, penetration, fingering, clit stimulation, fluff (i guess....LOL) notes – not proofread. haha.. idk im loving this. was gonna make it a one off, buut... i have plans.. if u want to be on taglist lmk! likes n reblogs are greatly appreciated! 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 1 of ? | next chapter

you smack your lips together, your red velvety lips kissing the mirror. it was friday night, and even more so, it was ‘thank you troops!’ night . you were excited. more customers, more tips, more sexy men in uniforms. your favorite part of the job. you were almost done with the last year of your college, then it was off your own country of choosing to continue your studies! you were so excited. spring break was right around the corner– and by right around, it started today because it was friday freaking night, and the bar was going to be crazy!

as you walk out of the employee room the bell in the middle of the bar rings. it indicates that a unlucky someone had to pay the round for everybody in there. there were screams and cheering as an unlucky pilot shook his head, laughing in disbelief.

“ha! captain caleb got the bell!” 

“yeah yeah enjoy the drink.” he laughs, as you approach the men, getting behind the bar, you watch as darts flew, and listen to glasses clink. you pick up the sound of someone grumbling over a lost bet. but most importantly your eyes land on him. he’s sitting there, leaning over the counter, quiet in the middle of all the noise, fingers grasping his drink like it was the only thing tethering him here. 

you dip towards him, cleaning the counter with your rag as you lean towards him, a grin on your face. “is this your brooding war hero face, captain caleb?” he snaps from his thoughts,  caleb looks you over, “you think i’m a war hero?”  you nod, like a child in awe, “ya got the jawline for it.” he gives you a silent stare, before a chuckle escapes his lips, dragging his glass towards you. “is that why you’re talking to me? for the jawline?” you pick his cup up, and raise in an angle towards the spout, meticulously watching as the ale fills up, making sure there were no bubbles– or as best as you could, “well..for one, i work the bar… for two..” you slide the beverage towards him, placing a towel below it, “i had a feeling you were about to leave without giving me your name.” 

“seems like you already had it.” he states matter-o-factly, as he tips the glass onto his lips, you chuckle, leaning into his view. he sets the drink down, elbows on the bar, and his smile playing somewhere between charm and challenge. “well..” your slender fingers go to tap the name on his jacket, “captain caleb… wasn’t that hard, huh.” 

“what makes you think i wasn’t waiting for you to ask hm?” you rolled your eyes, cheeks puffed up, sliding a drink to a patron near him, “ that sounds like something a pilot would say.” you say smartly, turning your attention to him. his eyebrow raises, very clearly entertained, “oh? and what do pilots sound like to you?” 

you lean in, giggles escaping your lips, as you take your pinky finger and thumb, fixed as a phone, pulling it towards your lips and ear. you make a static sound as if you were mimicking a walkie talkie, “this is captain caleb, over.” you burst into fits of laughter afterwards. caleb couldn’t figure if it was the alcoholic warmth or your infections beauty, and laugh.. he’d chalk it up to being both. he clears his throat, and mimicking your fingers, and placing it upon his lips and ear as well before going, “it’s actually: 10-4, captain caleb out.” you bit your lip smiling as he continued to talk to you in his pilot voice. you stare at him, deadpan, then burst into a fit, “yknow, i don’t even know what that means. but it sounds good. you sound good.” you flirt, obnoxiously so. you were young, naive, probably not gonna see this sexy man for a year or whatever, you only live once, right?

“you are so funny. if i’m being honest, i’m kind of sad you’re leaving so soon. you seem sweet.” you mutter, as you touch his shoulder. the bar was quiet now, the liveliness was dead– everyone was gone for the night, and you were the designated closer. caleb offered to keep you company as you finished cleaning the bar, restocking and getting everything ready for the next shift.

he went ahead to tell you about his mission. he was a pilot being deployed with the men that he had taken to the bar with him tonight. you listen, as he explained what he did, without giving you the nitty gritty, nor exposing any confidential information. he figured, you probably weren’t going to remember this shit by the next couple months. 

to him, you were a young, beautiful woman. a vixen, with a sharp tongue, but you laughed so soft– so sweet, tender, like an apple pie– his favorite. if he could just jump ships– literally, and ask you out on a date, he would. but unfortunately, his life lives harshly, and he couldn’t do it.

you finish locking the front door as you turn to see him waiting for you. the moonlight played into this man. his features luminated. kept brown hair, purple eyes tinted as it stares into you, and his white service uniform, brightening him, as if he was an angel sent down from heaven. 

you walk towards him, and he places his hat in his non-dominant hand, and the other raises to meet your manicured ones. he lifts them, placing a soft kiss on your knuckle as he takes the lead, walking you towards the parking lot.  you felt serene, but you also felt gut wrenched. why did the one man you were actually interested in, had to leave so soon already? fate is such a cruel mistress.

you both stop at your vehicle, and he chuckles, his hands gliding up to your door, and opening it for you. the bar wasn’t low, but you loved a man who was chivalrous. you gave him such a bittersweet smile, “you’re leaving tomorrow?” you ask once again, and he gives you a pained smile, before nodding. 

as you think of what to say next, calebs eye twinkle, he leans down, lips near your ear as he speaks low, “our night doesn’t have to end right now.” he mutters, just barely above a whisper. your knees buckle, feeling the knot in your stomach burst into butterflies. as he pulls away, you stare up at him, biting your lip.

without saying much he leads you to his own car, his hands never leaving yours, as he opens the passenger side for you. you quickly get in, and he leans in, gripping the seatbelt, and connecting it across your body, and a kiss on your cheek. you didn’t even have time to react, you were just awestruck by his sweetness.  

you quietly listen to the tap of his credit card as you stand next to him, his hands intertwined with yours. the soft spoken woman behind the counter slides the keycard in front of you both, “your room is 304. please enjoy, and call us if you need anything!” he nods for you to take the keycard, as his other hand was preoccupied with a bag of stuff you and him had bought spontaneously. 

you felt like a stupid giddy girl as you both rush to the elevator. he wanted you bad, but he had to restrain himself. public stunts were not his forte, and well– you were worth the wait, to him. he guides you, and lets go of your hand. his finger swipes the card from you–gently, as he tugs the door knob down and opening the door. 

the room is soft, warm, a lamp already turned on, and he walks in first, gently dropping the bag on the mini kitchen counter. he turns back to you, silhouetted by the light, “you coming in, or were you just here for the walk?” he mutters, as he starts to tug on his suit. you nod quietly practically flying in, and locking the door. 

he undoes his tie, followed by his shirt. you ogle like an idiot, as you slowly made your way towards him. you stare at how absolutely divine his body was. 6 pack? check. you could do some laundry on that thang. his chiseled muscular godly body? check. he was a stocky man. you were in physical love. his gorgeous eyes? check check. a smile to die for? abso-fucking-lutely. 

“might wanna close your mouth, sweetheart.” caleb laughs as he places his finger tips on your chin, craning your head upwards to stare at him. you close your mouth, muffling an apology as he leans down and shakes his head, giving your forehead a kiss. it surprised you how tender of a pace he was going. you tilt your head as your lips brush against each other, “why are you being so… sweet?” you say breathlessly, fingers trailing his torso. he hums, taking your other hand into his, intertwining, his eyes closing as he took in your scent, “hmm.. i’m attracted to you.. i want to take my time….” he mumbles, planting slow and soft kisses on your temple. 

caleb was a lover boy. he knew how to be sweet, tender, and gentle. he didn’t want you to feel like a one off, even if his case isn’t really helping him. 

his hands snake to your waist, not daring to let you go. you felt like a cloud in the air as he easily lifted you up, planting kisses on your neck. he tugged the top of your shirt your breasts filling over your shirt. he leans away to stare at you, as you turn your head in embarrassment. he kisses your cheek where your blush crept, “you’re so gorgeous when you blush, sweetheart.. you are..beautiful..” he mumbles, as he dipped down, kissing the valley of your breast. he lays you down softly, treating you as if you were a dainty porcelain doll, not to be messed with. 

“mm.. caleb..” you mumble, hands tangled in his brown locks. he relished you, kissed every inch of your chest, his hands pinning both your wrists above your head. with a free hand he explores your exposed skin– as if you were a map to be charted. pressure soft, just enough to press into your skin, but not heavy. the clash of warmth traces and the cold air leave your nipples hard. caleb watches as your nipple harden with ever hot and cold you feel, and he laughs, his voice going thick, “i love turning you on, sweetheart.” he drags his tongue on one of your nipples, pressing both lips on it, and softly tugging. this elicits a moan from your lips, arching your back as you felt his teeth bite down– just enough to cause a reaction.

his thumbs brush the sides of your thigh, the slow of your back, and eventually to the hem of your shorts. he looks up at you, disheveled and undone. he was tipsy, with alcohol and lust. you were his drink to be consumed. “you are the most gorgeous woman i have ever laid my eyes on.” caleb says, like it’s the first and last truth he’s ever known. 

you couldn’t take it anymore. you tap on his shoulder, and in one swift motion, you’re on top. you give him that sweet giggle that he loved to hear, as you climbed off of him. he was on the edge of the bed, still laying down but staring at you from below. you tease him, your hands creeping to the belt of his pants. as he watches you slowly, you tug it off, and with quite an alarming strength, you pull his pants off him, only leaving him with his boxers.  his eyes widen at your random display of strength. servicemen work hard, and horny women work harder. 

you drape the pants on the chair nearby, and your gaze lands back on him. you start to undress, slipping your bra and shirt off, then as you place your hands on the button of your shorts, caleb’s large hands drag over your hands, his nose on your sternum, as he lazily tugs your shorts down with ease. he kisses your chest once more, mumbling words you couldn’t make out. you stand between his knees, as his hands find your hips, thumbs pressing onto your pelvic region. he stares at your pretty red panties, frilly, cute. imaginative. “permission to take this as a souvenir?” he plays with the band, slowly tugging it down as he stares into your eyes, a haphazard smile taking form on his face. 

you don’t give him an answer, you just nod, feeling ethereal. as if you were on a different plane. he took this opportunity to tease you. his eyes scan the room and find a mirror behind you, and he turns you to face the mirror, with his massive hands and legs on the side of your frame. one arm wraps around your waist, as the other go down to your inner thighs, caressing you. you start to crane your head to another location, but by gods will, caleb moves his hand to your chin, kindly, but forcefully turning your head to look back at the mirror. he plants a kiss on your side as his fingers make contact with your clit, “don’t look away baby.. i want to watch your face when you come for me.” he’d mumble as he started to rub soft, circular, circles on your clit. you felt a jolt from how delicious it felt. you cry out– pussy aching in pleasure. your lips form an ‘o’ as he takes in your messy appearance. your beautiful lips smeared by your lipstick, your eyes half closed, and your body quivering, almost as if you were becking him. caleb couldn’t get enough of you. his fingers would slip further, feeling your slick wet cunt. “oh sweetheart you’re so wet for me.” he coos softly fingers pushing past your sweet folds and inserting them inside you. you whimpered eyes lazily closing and opening as you felt him pump you slowly. “mmmgggg— caleb…mmmm b-baby p-please..” you mewl, saliva threatening to slip down the corners of your lips.

calebs arm latch comfortably around your waist as his hand grasp your breast. his lips linger on your side, as his free finger pinch your nipples, his other fingers thrusting a little faster this time. your knees buckle as his fingers work, slowly giving out, and he catches you on his lap. you were a panting mess, catching your breath as best as you can. caleb kisses the crook of your neck lifting your legs onto each of his. he spreads your legs apart, so he has an even better view of you in the mirror. your head leaned back onto his shoulder as your eyes roll back to heaven. he watches as you writhe in his arms, pussy squelching in his hand, your juices dripping down on the floor. 

“so gorgeous” kiss “you’re such a lovely woman” kiss "i cant get enough of you." kiss “you drive me crazy” kiss

“c…calebbb— fuck it feels so…good” you mutter as coherent as you possibly fan. you felt that itch hit you so suddenly, like a truck. your eyes widen, head snapping to the mirror. his fingers intensify as you shake your head, pleading, “please baby please please please calebcalebcaleb im going to cum pleaseee baby mmmmhhhgh—“ you squeal, twitching forward your body convulsing as your head limps backwards. you unravel in his fingers, “such a good girl.” he’d coo into your ears.

you mumble lowly, as you slide down on the floor. you get on your knees as you slowly pull his dick out of his boxers. to say he was large was an understatement. you gaze lovingly at his cock, eyes full of lust, mouth full of drool. before he could get a word out your lips touch the tip. his eyes flutter closed, head falling backwards as his hands make their way to your hair, fingertips curling on your crown. as you swirl your tongue around the bottom of his shaft he stifles a moan, holding this moment as his own— burning it into his memory. you attune to each hitched breath. quicken when his chest slowed down, slobbering on it. your saliva travels down to his balls, and each inch you pull into your throat, your eyes water. his hands are gentle, but commanding, not forcing you down but begging— pleading, for you to take all of it. his tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag. calebs jaw tightens, as he closes his eyes- almost cumming. this was so goddamn dangerous. you were milking him like your life depended on it. there were tears running down your eyes, your pretty eyeliner smudged. your lipstick smeared. you look like a perfect woman. taking his cock so generously whilst your make up ran. a beautiful sight to behold. if only he could take a photo of you slurping his dick so obediently.

you continuously ram his tip into the back of your throat, and he fought every time not to cum, until he had enough. he pulls his dick out of your throat, and you cough profusely. he didn’t want to cum in your throat, he wanted to cum inside of you. 

his face littered in sweat as he pulls you up, your lips connecting. he leads you up on the bed and lays you on your back, his face burying in the crook of your neck. he whines, almost pathetically, “please sweetheart… let me fuck you” you wrap your arms around his shoulder, nodding, as if he could see you. he couldn’t but he could feel the repeated tug. he was already aligning his tip to your entrance. he pulls his face away from your neck and plants another kiss on your lips, “im going to make you remember me.” he thrusts in, tightness almost overtaking him. both facial expressions twist into pure bliss. pure divinity. you let out a slutty sultry moan. caleb closes his eyes as he burns that audio in his head, his hand framed on your hips as the other place their spot on your cheek. he thrusts slow— but hard.. intensely.. passionate. you were locking eyes with him, eyes brimming with tears at how well he was tearing you. he was clouded with constant thoughts of cumming. you felt so goddamn good around him. “fuck, baby.. you’re milking my dick.” he cries out, arm moving to your legs as he forces you to wrap them around him. you can only give a nod as he pounds you into the soft bedsheets, your fingers tangling themselves into his hair and the pillow beneath you. 

“so good..” 

“you’re taking my cock so well baby, just like that.. just like that, baby. keep taking my dick like a… mm- good fucking girl..” 

“ohh baby—-nnmm.. you’re so goddamn beautiful.. fuck im— ahh- in love..” he slurs out, head lightheaded from just how fucked you were making him. he’d already cum twice now, but didn’t wanna tell you due to him enjoying this moment. your pussy was full of his cum, and you couldn’t get enough. 

you were so fucked out of your mind— your pussy clenched with each thrust, his tip hitting your spot over and over until you collapse around him, cumming harder and harder with each orgasm. neither of you talked much in this exchange. the evident love and affection between you two was enough words. 

he was rubbing your cheeks as he thrusted harder, and you were taking it, slack jaw, tongue out, a messy messy slut for him, and he worshipped you, like a devout of his goddess. 

he was overstimulating himself— he could feel it. he was losing feelings from his dick. it had been the 5th nut he’d experienced— if he could even count how many goddamn times he’d pump you full of his load, and you were gone. he kept going, crying out “i can’t stop baby.. im sorry you—just— mm— feel so fuckinggg good.” he kept going, until his body started to feel light. 

“baby- im going to cum—“ you couldnt react. he twitched once more, drilling you full of his kids one more time before he takes your face, planting a passionate and hard kiss. you wrap your arms and pull his head in closer, as best as you possibly could, wrapping your legs around him and pulling his body deep inside you as he shot inside. 

needless to say, you both passed the fuck out— there was no after care. neither of you had the fucking capacity.

..

..

..

..

it was time. the carrier sits on the dock, ready to receive its troops. caleb held your hand as he drove you two to the marina. among you were wives, girlfriends and families crying and holding their loved ones one last time for a while. you took comfort from having to not be the only one dealing with this pain. caleb held you the entire way, only ever breaking contact when he went to open your door for you.

you bite your lip, trying your damnedest to not cry. his fingers trail your lower lip, pushing it down at the slightest, “don’t do that. makes it harder for me to leave.” your lips quiver, hands intertwining with his, as your foreheads connect. his eyes bore into yours, as he lifts you up, making sure your skirt wasn’t hiked up. he pulls away from you and flags down a photographer.

“sir! can you please get two pictures for us?” he’d scream towards the man, amongst the screaming loved ones. he nods, preparing his camera. caleb grabs the back of your head and in a swift motion, kisses you— with so much passion— so much invigorating love, it made your head spin. 

click! 

he pulls away, unwillingly— and the next pose, his cheeks collide with yours softly, as he gives you the sweetest smile you’d ever seen from him. you sniffle and smile as best as you possibly could. 

click! 

he smooches you before gently setting you down. he goes over to the photographer and takes the polaroids, handing him some money and walking over to you. 

“here baby, which one do you want?” you point to the photo of you kissing each other and he grins as he takes the other one. “ill put this in my helmet— and everywhere i go.” 

you both relish the little time you had until you hear the bell from the deck. you were in fucking tears by now, and caleb was fighting his. he turns to you before he walks, 

“i promise ill be back for you. i owe you that date, remember?” he winks at you before he puts the photo in the fold of his hat, then putting it on, adjusting it, and waving at you before he made his way to the entrance. 

your tears flow freely, as you waved at him. 

..

it was the last time you saw him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! - @leannathespacewerewolf , @rcvcgers

[lila-lou]

✨All over again - 2/4✨

Summary: After a crash leaves Dean with permanent memory loss, you’re nothing but a stranger to him now. Years of love, gone in an instant. But the hardest part isn’t that he forgot you, it’s that he doesn’t want to remember.

-requested-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst

Word Count: 4132

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

As the evening rolled in, the bunker was eerily quiet.

You were still in your room—your own room now. The hours had passed in a blur, but you hadn't moved much. The weight of everything sat heavy on your chest, exhaustion pressing down on you, but sleep never came. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him. The way he had pulled off his ring, the way he had looked at you like you were nothing more than a stranger.

The love of your life—your husband—was gone. And he wasn’t coming back.

Meanwhile, Dean had buried himself in the garage, his hands occupied with Baby’s engine, like fixing something would make this easier. He hadn’t come back inside since he left the library, and Sam knew exactly why.

Dean was running.

Not that it surprised him. Dean had always run from things he couldn’t fix.

Sam sighed as he set the table, a familiar routine after years of traveling, of making whatever meal they could pull together feel like something normal. But tonight, it wasn’t normal. Nothing was.

He grabbed his phone, scrolling through the contacts, considering calling Cas, maybe even Jody, but he knew the truth: no one could fix this. Not even an angel.

With a deep breath, he stepped into the hall and called out, “Dinner’s ready”.

He didn’t expect you to respond. And you didn’t. You probably hadn’t eaten all day, but he doubted you cared.

Dean, though—Dean had to show up eventually. Sam knew his brother too well. He could avoid emotions, but he wouldn’t avoid food.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, he heard the heavy footsteps from the garage. Dean appeared in the doorway, wiping grease from his hands onto an old rag, his expression unreadable.

Sam leaned against the table, arms crossed. “She’s not coming out”.

Dean didn’t react right away, just tossed the rag onto the counter. “Figured”.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You’re really not gonna talk to her?”.

Dean huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “Talk to her about what, Sam?”.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe about how she’s been locked in her room all day after you broke her damn heart?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his shoulders going rigid. “What do you want me to do?”, he muttered, voice quieter now. “I already told her the truth”.

Sam let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, you sure did”. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Dean’s wedding ring, holding it up between them.

Dean’s eyes flickered to the small piece of silver, and for a moment—just a second—something passed over his face. But then it was gone.

“Thought you’d wanna keep this”, Sam said, voice sharp.

Dean didn’t take it. Instead, he just shook his head. “It doesn’t mean anything anymore”.

Sam clenched his jaw, his fingers curling around the ring. “Bullshit”, he snapped. “It meant everything to you”.

Dean met his gaze, something flickering in his expression—guilt, frustration, something else even Sam couldn’t read. But then he just exhaled. “It’s over, Sam”. His voice was quieter this time, but it still cut deep.

Sam swallowed back the anger bubbling in his chest, before he slipped the ring into his pocket. “Fine”, he muttered. “But at least pretend you give a damn and sit down for dinner”.

Dean hesitated for a second, but then—like clockwork—he sat down, grabbing a plate like this was just another night. Like everything hadn’t just fallen apart.

The next morning came too soon, dragging in the dull ache of reality with it.

You barely slept. When you did, it was restless—filled with fleeting memories that felt more like ghosts, teasing you with what once was. The warmth of Dean’s body beside you, the sound of his laugh, the way he used to nudge you awake with a kiss to your shoulder.

Now, the only thing that greeted you was an empty room, a cold bed, and the harsh truth of being alone.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Sam.

“Come on”, he called through the door, voice softer than usual. “Breakfast. Then we’re heading to a case”.

A case.

For the past few days, everything had been about Dean. His memory loss, his detachment, the way he had slowly pushed you away until he finally put the last nail in the coffin. But now, things were moving forward—just like that. As if nothing had happened.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed yourself upright, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your limbs. You could hear Sam’s footsteps fading down the hall, giving you space, but the message was clear.

The world wasn’t going to stop for this. So, neither could you.

With a deep breath, you pulled on a hoodie and ran a hand through your hair, barely glancing at your reflection before stepping out into the hallway. The bunker felt colder than usual—though maybe that was just in your head.

When you reached the kitchen, Sam was already at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, scanning something on his laptop. Dean sat across from him, shoveling food into his mouth like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t shattered everything between you the day before.

You hesitated in the doorway, your stomach twisting. Dean didn’t even look up when you entered. Didn’t acknowledge you at all. And that fucking hurt. More than it should have.

Sam glanced at you, offering a small nod before sliding a plate toward the empty seat beside him.

You sat down, keeping your eyes on your food, even though you weren’t hungry.

The silence stretched on.

“So”, Sam finally said, filling the dead air. “Looks like we got a case up in Nebraska. Couple of disappearances near some abandoned farmland. Sounds like a possible wraith or maybe a revenant”.

You nodded numbly, barely listening.

Dean swallowed his last bite and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How soon can we head out?”.

Sam eyed him, then flicked his gaze to you. “Soon as we’re ready”.

It wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a reminder. You were still a hunter. You still had a job to do.

Dean finally glanced at you then—just for a second. But there was no warmth, no hesitation. Just a silent, unreadable look before he pushed back from the table and stood. “I’ll get my stuff”. And just like that, he was gone again.

You stared at the empty space where he had been, fingers tightening around the edge of your plate.

You weren’t sure what hurt worse—losing him completely, or having him right in front of you, but feeling like he was already gone.

The drive to Nebraska was long, and the air inside the Impala was thick with silence.

Dean drove, eyes locked on the road, his expression unreadable. Sam sat in the passenger seat, occasionally glancing back at you, as if checking to make sure you were still breathing.

You were in the back. Where you hadn’t sat in years. It felt unnatural, wrong. This was the seat you used to claim only when you were teasing Dean, stealing his cassette tapes, kicking your feet up on the upholstery just to get a rise out of him.

Now, you sat there because it was the only place left for you.

The space between you and Dean wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper, something that felt impossible to close. And the worst part? He seemed fine with it. Like he didn’t even notice.

Sam cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. “So, uh, I checked out the reports again before we left. Witnesses say they saw a figure near the last house that got hit. Human-shaped, but… off”.

Dean hummed in acknowledgment, keeping his eyes on the road. “Off how?”.

Sam clicked on his phone, pulling up his notes. “One guy said it moved too fast. Another said the eyes looked weird—like they reflected light, kind of like an animal”.

Dean nodded. “Wraith or skinwalker, then”.

“Yeah, maybe”.

Silence fell again.

You rested your head against the cool window, watching the scenery blur by. Normally, on these long drives, Dean would reach over and squeeze your knee. You used to play games—counting how many crappy motels you passed, arguing over which diner in which town had the best pie.

Now, you were just there. Existing. Nothing more.

“(Y/N)”, Sam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You blinked, glancing up to see him looking at you in the mirror. “What do you think?”.

You realized then that you hadn’t been listening. “Uh… yeah. Sounds like a wraith”, you said quickly, pretending to know what they had just been talking about.

Dean didn’t react.

Sam, of course, noticed. His brow furrowed slightly, but he let it go. “Alright. We’ll check the victim’s houses first, see if we can track where it’s hiding”.

You nodded, then went back to staring out the window.

The rest of the drive continued in that suffocating quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional flip of Dean’s turn signal.

When you finally pulled into town, Dean parked outside a small diner—classic, predictable. “Food first”, he muttered, killing the engine.

Sam got out without question, stretching his legs, but you hesitated for a second before following. Sam fell into step beside you, keeping his voice low. “You don’t have to do this, you know”.

You swallowed hard. “Do what?”.

“Pretend like this is normal”.

You let out a quiet breath, forcing a tight smile. “Isn’t it?”.

Sam didn’t answer. Because you both knew the truth. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was okay. But you weren’t going to fall apart. Not now.

Inside the diner, the three of you slid into a booth—Sam on one side, you and Dean on the other. The old leather creaked beneath you, and the scent of cheap coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air. It should have felt familiar, comforting. But it didn’t.

Dean barely glanced at you as he picked up the menu, flipping through it like nothing was wrong. Like this was just another morning.

And then—he did it. Right in front of you. He glanced up, eyes tracking the waitress as she walked past, his gaze lingering on her ass before he smirked to himself and went back to his menu.

Your stomach twisted violently.

Sam saw it, too. You knew because his jaw tightened slightly, his eyes flickering from you to Dean with something like disbelief.

Dean didn’t even notice. He just sat there, cool as ever, completely unaware that his casual, thoughtless action had just gutted you.

Because that was the thing—he had never done that around you. Not since the day he fell for you. Sure, before you, Dean had always been a flirt, always had a wandering eye, always made some dumb joke about a “solid ten” when you passed a pretty girl. But when he had you? You had been it for him.

There had been no wandering, no second glances, no careless flirting. He had made it clear, over and over again, that you were the only woman in the damn world as far as he was concerned.

Now, he was looking at another woman like you weren’t even sitting right there. Like you were nothing.

You clenched your jaw, staring hard at the menu in front of you, willing yourself not to react. Not to let him see how much it hurt.

The waitress—young, blonde, pretty—sauntered over with a bright smile, notepad in hand. “What can I get you boys?”. She barely glanced at you.

Dean grinned up at her, easy and charming, like this was the most natural thing in the world. “Coffee. And whatever’s got the most bacon”.

The waitress giggled—actually giggled—and nodded. “Got it. And for you?”, she asked, looking at Sam.

Sam cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh, Coffee and Eggs”.

The waitress scribbled it down, then finally turned to you. “And you, sweetheart?”.

Sweetheart. You almost laughed at the irony. “Just coffee”, you muttered, not trusting yourself to say more.

The waitress nodded, giving Dean one last look before walking away.

Dean leaned back in the booth, stretching his arm over the backrest, exhaling like he had not a single care in the world.

Sam, on the other hand, looked pissed. His eyes flicked between you and Dean, his patience clearly wearing thin. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.

You? You just sat there, staring down in front of you, stomach churning.

When the food arrived, the waitress made sure to linger, setting Dean’s plate down with a little too much enthusiasm, her fingers just barely brushing against his arm. “Careful, handsome”, she teased, a playful smirk on her lips. “Wouldn’t want you to burn that pretty mouth of yours”.

Dean grinned, easy and effortless, the kind of smirk that used to be reserved just for you. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can handle a little heat”.

Your grip on your coffee cup tightened.

Sam visibly tensed beside you, his eyes darting between the two of you, but he stayed quiet.

You just sat there, taking a slow sip of your coffee, staring at the swirling black liquid as if it could drown out the scene in front of you. Under the table, your fingers found the band of your wedding ring, twisting it absently with your thumb—a nervous habit, one you had picked up years ago.

You had done this on hunts, when things got tense. When Dean had been out too long, when a case went south, when you were afraid of losing him. And now, you were doing it because you had already lost him.

The waitress giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she gave Dean one last look before walking away. Dean—your husband—watched her go.

The sting behind your eyes burned, but you blinked hard, forcing it down. You weren’t going to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

Dean picked up his fork, completely unfazed, as if he hadn’t just flirted with another woman in front of the wife he had apparently erased from his life. “Damn, this smells good”.

Sam snapped. “You’ve gotta be kidding me”.

Dean looked up, brow raised. “What?”.

You took another slow sip of your coffee, the warmth doing nothing to ease the numbness settling deep in your bones. Your fingers twitched against the ceramic, a silent battle raging inside you. Then, without a word, you set the cup down, pushed back your chair, and stood.

Before Dean could react, your hand dipped into the pocket of his jeans—the same move you had pulled a hundred times before when you wanted to drive Baby, when you wanted to tease him, when you wanted his attention.

But this time, it wasn’t playful. This time, it was just survival.

You snatched the keys and muttered, “I’ll wait in the car”.

Dean blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”.

You didn’t respond. Didn’t give him the satisfaction. Didn’t give yourself the chance to break right there in the middle of the damn diner. You just walked away.

Sam sighed and leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand down his face as he watched you push through the door and disappear into the parking lot.

Dean, meanwhile, sat there, stunned for a second. Then he scoffed, shaking his head. “What the hell was that?”.

Sam shot him a look that could’ve burned through steel. “You’re an idiot”, he muttered, voice low but sharp.

Dean frowned, shifting in his seat. “Oh, come on, man—”.

“No”. Sam cut him off, leaning forward now, his anger barely contained. “You don’t get to do this, Dean. You don’t get to act like this is normal”.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I was eating, Sam. I was having a damn meal”.

“No, you were rubbing it in her face”, Sam snapped. “Flirting with some random waitress like she wasn’t even sitting right there”.

Dean clenched his jaw, his fingers tapping against the edge of his plate. “I didn’t mean—”.

“Didn’t mean to?”, Sam let out a humorless laugh. “Jesus, Dean. You chased her. You spent months convincing her to give you a shot. And now you’re treating her like she doesn’t exist”.

Dean’s grip on his fork tightened, his gaze flickering toward the window. He could just barely see the outline of Baby in the parking lot.

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. “She left everything for you. And you just let her walk away”.

Dean didn’t answer. Because he didn’t have one. And for the first time in days, something about that bothered him.

Steam curled in the small motel bathroom, clinging to the mirror and fogging up the glass. You had just stepped out of the shower, towel discarded as you reached for your underwear, exhausted from the long day of interviews and forced conversations. Your skin was still damp, beads of water rolling down your shoulders.

Just then, the door flew open.

Dean strode in without thinking, muttering something under his breath, fully intent on just using the damn bathroom before eating. His mind was still on the case, on the food in the bag he had dropped on the motel table—he hadn’t even remembered that you were in here.

Until now. Until he saw you.

Standing there, bare skin glistening under the dim motel light, hair wet and clinging to your shoulders, curves on full display—fuck.

Dean stopped in his tracks. His breath hitched, something deep in his chest clenching before he could even process what was happening. Damn it. He wasn’t supposed to react like this.

But hell, you were beautiful. No, not just beautiful. You were the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen. And it hit him like a punch to the gut.

You barely reacted. You simply sighed, pulling your underwear up with practiced ease, then reached for your shirt.

Dean had seen you naked a million times before. Even if he didn’t remember, you did. This wasn’t new. Wasn’t shocking. And honestly? You just didn’t have the energy to care. Your heart was too broken for something as trivial as embarrassment.

Dean, on the other hand was fucking hard in an instant.

It was like his body had short-circuited, completely ignoring whatever logical part of his brain had convinced him there was nothing left between you. Because right now, there was something. And it was undeniable.

Dean felt heat rush through him, pulse pounding in his ears as his jeans suddenly felt way too tight. He was still frozen in place, fingers twitching at his sides, brain struggling to catch up with what the fuck was happening.

You didn’t even spare him a second glance. Didn’t react. Didn’t blush. Didn’t tease him like you probably would have, back when things were good.

You just pulled your shirt over your head, moving around him like he wasn’t even there. And for some reason, that made it worse. Made it so much worse.

Dean swallowed hard, willing himself to look away, to breathe, but his gaze kept getting dragged back—dragged to the way your damp skin glowed under the shitty motel light, the way your muscles tensed ever so slightly as you moved.

His body remembered. Even if his mind didn’t. And that scared the shit out of him.

He exhaled sharply, finally forcing himself to turn around. “Fucking shit", he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

You shot him a look in the mirror, completely unbothered. “What’s your problem?”.

Dean let out a humorless laugh, still not looking at you. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re walking around naked like it’s nothing?”.

You raised a brow, pulling your jeans up, your expression unreadable. “It is nothing”.

He huffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, trying to will his body to calm the fuck down. “Right. Yeah. Of course. No big deal”.

You let out a soft, almost bitter laugh as you grabbed your brush from the counter, dragging it through your wet hair. “Don’t worry, Dean”, you muttered. “I’m not expecting anything from you. Not anymore”.

That? That stung. More than it should have.

Dean finally glanced at you, something unreadable in his expression, but you were already walking past him, heading out the bathroom door like this conversation didn’t even matter. Like he didn’t matter.

And for the first time since this whole mess started… Dean wasn’t so sure he liked that feeling.

Dean followed you out of the bathroom, his steps quick, urgent. His dick wouldn’t stop throbbing. It was like his body had a mind of its own, like every nerve was on high alert, and fuck—he wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to being out of control when it came to himself.

And you just walked across the room like nothing had happened, completely unbothered, running a towel through your damp hair as you sat on the edge of the motel bed.

Dean exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t do this”, he muttered, voice tight.

You didn’t even look up. “Do what?”.

He scoffed, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “This. Making me—”. He cut himself off, jaw clenching. “Making me horny just to get me to feel something”.

That made you pause. Slowly, you turned to him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Excuse me?”.

Dean stared at you, like he expected you to admit it, to own up to it. Like this was your fault. But you just blinked, tilting your head slightly.

Then, after a beat, you let out a small, bitter laugh. “You walked in on me naked, Dean”.

His mouth opened, then shut. You had a point.

You crossed your arms, watching him, your expression unreadable. “I didn’t try to seduce you. I wasn’t parading around in lingerie, I wasn’t touching you, I wasn’t doing anything”. You let out a sharp exhale. “You came in, you looked, and now your body is reacting”.

Dean swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably, because shit—you were right. But that didn’t change the fact that his body was reacting. And it pissed him off. Because he shouldn’t be feeling like this. Shouldn’t be this fucking desperate to touch you, to feel you, when he didn’t even remember why. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “Then why the hell didn’t you care?”.

Your brows furrowed slightly. “What?”.

He took a step closer, jaw clenched. “You were naked. I walked in, and you didn’t even flinch”. His voice was rough, edged with something he didn’t quite understand.

You let out another quiet, humorless laugh, shaking your head as you ran the towel through your damp hair one last time before tossing it onto the bed beside you. “Shit, Dean”, you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “You’ve seen me naked a million times”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“You used to wake me up in the middle of the night just because you needed me”, you continued, voice sharp but laced with something vulnerable. “You used to pin me against walls, drag me into the backseat of the Impala, couldn’t keep your hands off me for more than a damn second”.

Dean swallowed thickly. His body reacted again, a deep, primal pull in his gut at the images your words conjured, but his mind—his mind was still struggling. Still fighting against whatever this was.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “But now? You see me naked and act like it’s some huge deal?”.

Dean clenched his jaw, frustration rolling off him in waves. “It is a huge deal”, he shot back.

“No, it´s not".

He stared at you, mouth parting like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

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[theocddiaries]

Rouge: Amy told me Sonic is about to show up. Do you know what you're going to say? Shadow: Yes. Rouge: Right, silly question. Oh, there he is! I’ll leave you two alone. Shadow: No, don’t. Rouge: Just imagine me behind that wall. It’ll be easy because that’s exactly where I’m going to hide to eavesdrop. [she hides] Sonic [passes by]: Hey, Shadow! Glad I found you. Shadow: Really? Sonic: Yeah. I got you a souvenir. I got something for everyone. I figured I wouldn’t get to hand them all out today, since it’s impossible to find you half the time. Shadow: …Right. Sonic [gives him a heart-shaped stone with nebula-like colours]: I saw this and thought of you. Shadow: Did you now? Sonic: You can say if you don’t like it. I don’t really know much about your tastes, except you like watching the stars. But I didn’t want you to be the only one I didn’t get something for. Shadow: …Right. Hey, um, do you remember the letter I gave you before you left? Sonic: Yeah. I didn’t get to read it. I wanted to, but they lost my suitcase, not sure if Amy told you. Shadow: She did. Sonic: Good. ‘Cause I don’t have your number or anything to reach you, so I couldn't tell you earlier. Shadow: I know. I’d put it in the letter. Sonic: Really? You? With how private you are, especially with me? Your favourite phrase is "none of your business" every time we talk. That’s why I havne't asked what the letter was about yet. Shadow: It's non--Nothing. Just something stupid. Like everything I do. Sonic: You okay?? Shadow: I am. Thank you for the gift. It’s very thoughtful. Sonic: No problem. I’m gonna go hand the rest out. See you around? Shadow: Maybe, yes. Sonic: Yeah, may Gaia spare me from invading your personal bubble and getting punched into orbit. Well, see ya! [he speeds off] Rouge [approaching him]: Shadow, what are you doing? Didn’t you say you were going to tell him? Shadow: I can’t. Rouge: Couldn’t find the words? Well, we’ll go with the second letter plan— Shadow: No. I can’t tell him. Didn’t you hear him? He got me this just so I wouldn’t feel left out, like he used to before the Shatterverse. He doesn’t know anything about me, or ways to reach me, because I never let him in. And he thinks if he ever does, all he’ll get is a literal punch because he knows I’m unpleasant. He’s being civil with me, and nothing more. And I can’t tell him I fell but haven't changed one bit about how to approach or talk to him or his friends. I'd just ruin his life, like I do with everyone else. Rouge: Shadow, that’s not what I hear at all. And you don’t ruin anyone’s life, take it from— [She hugs him and the souvenir drops to the ground] Rouge: Oh, sweetheart, your heart broke. Shadow: I know. Rouge: It’s okay. We’ll fix it with glue. Shadow: The cracks will still be visible. Like it happens with me…

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[j3suschr111st]

dolly. chapter i

"inhuman"

distant mind and gray noise, an isolated doll maker haunted by past choices comes to ablution when he encounters his own prototype. the story of two souls unaware of their beauty.

pairing: perv!san x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut (mdni)

tw: nsfw, gore, violence, not for the fainthearted.

word count: 2.8k

series masterlist. next chapter.

୨୧

he's exhausted, heavy eyelids, darkness, yet for some reason, rest won't come easy. he hasn't even taken his work gloves off, hasn't even brushed his teeth, with the bathroom door only being two meters away from his bed, still so out of reach. it had been one of those nights, when the realization of his situation was pounding his mind. san had always had a fascination for the human connection, so much so that it scared him, what do you mean you can totally change someone else's mood with the use of your own larynx? terrifying. no matter how much he tried, how much time he secretly rehearsed in his room, he never seemed to find the right words to express what he really means, and he noted people found comfort in misunderstanding. in the luck of someone getting a little too close, the foreseen recoil hurt worse than a kick in the teeth. he had a couple of friends in his childhood, but as soon as his personality started to develop, they all drifted away. he never had a friend in high school, no one he could even try to reconnect with. he can only count the times he'd been invited over to someone's house for school project reasons, oh, and no girls whatsoever.

san's parents were rich, he had lifelong financial support, so as soon as he turned 18 and the opportunity to miss college (and social interaction) came, he took it. now in his 20s, his only "friends" are his dolls, who he can talk to without receiving any judgement, any rejection. he got interested in sculpting at a very young age, he now owns a doll making business and his high quality skills have earned him clients from all over the world. but his brand is completely anonymous, the fear of being perceived by others was too much for him to handle, hence no one knew who was making these melancholic yet beautiful looking dolls, and he liked to keep it that way.

right after he finished his last order of the month, he delicately placed the small blonde girl on his shelf, along with her trinkets and various outfits to take photos of her. "now, just look pretty" he muttered as he angled the softbox towards her immobile figure. "yeah... they're all gonna love you, how can they not love you?" enamoured, he snaps his camera, too immersed in the image of her with her little purse, thinking of all the places she will take her stuff to, all the people she will meet, all the people who will want her. "i would love you, look at that beautiful face, i don't doubt you're beautiful on the inside too" he smiles at her, convinced that she can hear his sweet compliments, and that if he makes enough silence, he could hear her thanking him, maybe even gain a graceful peck on his cheek, oh to feel her touch, to run his hands through her dainty curls, to feel her reaching out for him. "would you love me as well?" white noise. he stops taking pictures to just look at her through the lense, he doesn't know if he's waiting for something, for her clay form to turn into skin, somehow. just like he always does.

he drops the camera and for some reason, looking at her now only causes him pain. "not again" he thinks, covering his face in shame. he sits on the floor at the corner of the studio, trying to hold in the tears. he thinks of himself a year ago, being in the same exact situation, just like the year before too, and the year before that too, and so on. he thinks of the times he'd coloured his own lips with the paint to feel something, tasting a dullness reflection. is this how it will always be? what kind of 28 year old gets feelings for a doll? he genuinely enjoys the process of making them, but when the final result is done, he can't help but fantasize about them being real, being his ideal women, and it's destroying him. he has never had a girlfriend, everyone either ignores him or at most, gets freaked out before anything even reaches a friendship. well, maybe he did gave up on real love a long time ago, now spends most of his time at home ordering takeout and working out on his private gym, a sort of situation that would drive anyone insane.

the echoes of his movements bounce all over the solitary mansion his parents used to own. he drags himself to lay on his bed, bloodshot eyes and thick heart. the darkness allowing his imagination a torture, questioning himself how did he get to this point, why him? why couldn't he be normal? to have a childhood friendships that lasted lifetimes like other men do? to have more "manly" interests and a "manlier" job? to be close to people, to meet someone and fall in love, to bring her flowers and make her feel special, just like she would make him feel. for her to giggle around him, for her to like him, to touch him, kiss him, bare herself to him and connect physically.

he got up and took an adderall, tired of allowing his overthinking consume him. he got in his car and just drove, the radio distracting him like a shield against his shadow. the woods near his house had undoubtedly a pleasant view, the night mirroring his obscure notion. stepping out of his car, he took a deep breath, taking in the space, making sure his feet are touching the ground, gravity that made him human. "you're a human" he affirmed himself. he looks at his hands that have made such beautiful creations, he touches the trees around him, a piercing feeling on his fingers, drawing red, confirming his mortality. he looks up at the sky, bringing memories of past experiences with others who were no longer sharing this dimension. just as the unawareness of time and place starts to weigh on him, he notices he's not alone.

"it doesn't matter anymore! we're graduating!" san tries to make out the words of the group of strangers, his curiosity pulling him closer, he hadn't heard any other voice than his own in about a month when his unavoidable errands stretched his schedule. they seemed to be around his age, maybe a bit younger. walking across the grove using their phones as flashlights, the good looking faces came to view, chatting and laughing about what seemed to be the date of their college graduation coming. remorseful of his condition, san immediately wondered what it would be like to have that experience.

"come on y/n, we're getting close!" as a girl shouted, san then repeated said name in a whisper.

and that's when he saw her, he saw you, for the first time. just like a finished product, doll like features, elegant hair and just the right amount of blush, helplessly trying to shoo away the mosquitoes while keeping up behind the group. cupid's fruition, a white aura, the breeze sang to him. san saw every single one of his creations on your face, as if his own collection of "perfect women" merged and came to life. he's taken back, the air failing to reach his lungs. had his wish finally come true? you were right there, in front of him, and he couldn't believe it. he had to stop himself from the urge to change you into a pretty dress and take your picture, only to keep it for him, forever.

"i told you to bring spray" said the tallest guy, looking down at your stature, which made san raise an eyebrow, a sudden pulse running through his body.

"i'm sorry" your voice as soft as the silk he used for the clothing of his dolls, the guy chuckled pulling you by his side, san didn't like that at all.

"fuck you mr. smith! fuck you and your stupid mustache!" a black haired girl screamed into the air while the others laughed along, taking out her rage against her teacher.

"and mr. lee fucking cuckold!"

"oof, i hated that son of a bitch too, hope he drowns in one of his wife's dildos"

one would normally be interested in knowing the drama, but san couldn't tear his eyes away from you, analyzing the situation, staring to your innocent eyes looking up at the guy who was giving you an unreciprocated side hug, was he making you uncomfortable? who does he think he is?

"your turn y/n, i know you wanna take out your anger from mr. perez' class" mr. perez?

"i don't think i've ever heard her raise her voice" someone in the front added.

you just smiled at your friend and quickly denied with your head. "i don't hate mr. perez like that" the group playfully booed you and you giggled, making san's palpitations stronger.

why were they treating you like that? san felt the need to defend you, to take you away from this toxic friend group, far far away and never allow them the privilege of being around you ever again. no one should make you feel small, unique beauty must be crystalized.

his quiet nature made following the group to their destination spot a success, all while fighting his instincts telling him to get closer and smell your perfume. he notices the uoh sweaters some of them are wearing: university of halazia, he recognizes, some of his former classmates went to that same school.

as everyone settled into their places, san took the time to observe you, to get to know you. although you didn't seem the most extraverted, everyone was fond of you. you were funny, cute and smart. you were currently laying down against a rock, unaware of the eyes that followed your every movement, the breathing trying to be matched with yours, of the hands pretending to be yours, slowly over his pants. san was captivated, massaging himself to release the building tension. he needed you so bad. as you yawned, it almost felt like a breaking point for him, immediately closing his eyes to engrave that imagine in his memory, your heart shaped mouth that probably (definitely) tasted like candy, wide open just for him.

he suddenly had his cock on his fingertips, he's not jerking off, just admiring your gestures while he toys with the pressure. every action that he has pictured for years, questioned on it's accurateness, long nights visualizing how his dolls would react, how they would talk, eat, laugh, whine.

as you finished stuffing s'mores into your mouth, you suddenly heard a moan in the wind, the whole group did and fell into a heavy silence.

"uhm... what was that?" said yeosang, your longtime best friend.

"probably a ghost" said jacob nonchalantly sitting by your side, your friend ally quickly shushing him.

"shut the fuck up i swear to god" karina covered her ears in fear.

"yo girls, chill, it's windy alright?" tom got up looking around "you want us to investigate?"

"stop, that's literally how the first one dies in horror movies" ally tried to reach for him to make him sit back down.

"hello?" yeosang tested and jacob chuckled at him.

"you think the murderer will reply?"

"guys stop, it's nothing, see? no more sounds"

as the group awaited the resonation, tom teasingly imitated a small effeminate whimper, the woods being once again being filled with young laughter. a chill running down your spine guides your head to the side, noticing something moving in the distance. "hey, don't be scared sweetheart, we're okay" the warmth of jacob's hand on your shoulder calms you a little bit, you brush the thought out of your head and the conversation continues as if nothing happened.

san had sprinted out of there before anyone could think of looking around, running with a hard on wasn't something he was expecting from this night, but isn't unexpected what he's been longing for for so long? a wave of reality hits him as soon as he closes his car door he fortunately found in the dark and sits with himself, the blood on his hands now free from clutching onto the trees for dear life. what the fuck had just happened? maybe if he slaps himself he'll wake up from whatever this is. you were not real, you couldn't be, someone so perfectly molded for him, a personal escape no one knew belonged to him had been exposed this whole time, breathing, living life unbeknownst to him.

for the next few days, the tortured artist failed nostalgia over and over again. a daily routine: he woke up crying to the passing of time, performed surgery on air dry clay to symmetry, stalked your university's instagram account in hopes a sign of your beauty appears, gave up and jerked off. your face became permanent in his tiny models, a reminder of opportunity eternally missing him. but he wanted you, he needed you and he was sick of messing with his chances.

he decided to pay you a visit, find you and most importantly: act normal. 'cause he is normal, all of his life? that was just practice, he feels ready, confident, stars aligned.

driving through gray morning skies, his knuckles were shaking, white by his paleness and force. today, he ignored the sting behind his eyes that usually pull him back to bed, he got his best clothes on (wich smelled a little humid from being on the back of his drawer for too long), he tried his best with his hair and almost ran off the door on his way to uoh's campus. maybe his heart had been turn into dust, but if you brushed it off, a sparkle of hope still lingers, shining bright as ever. he already pictured every scene possible, you would meet and immediately fall in love, he'd take you out, ask for your hand and live happily ever after with three kids and a fat cat. hope wasn't alarming, it felt right, why else would you two cross paths in such manner? "destiny" he smiled to himself.

colder than usual, puffy coats and extra layers, students danced around the green field trying to either catch a class or pick up books for the final exams. san tends to walk fast, looking like a ghost anyone would doble check through the corner of their eye, but now he feels motionless, scared that in a millisecond he might miss your encounter. he tries to calm himself by thinking that maybe soon enough, you're gonna be the one looking for him, embracing each other in a prolonged thight hug. shy steps forward, sunlight barely seen still burning, he gets slightly distracted by someone mentioning mr. perez in a conversation but he's got to keep his focus, if he were a pretty human doll, where could he be?

the minutes pose as hours in his head, he felt brave prepared to face anything and like turning back to his car and cry, all in the same second. he suddenly realized that you might've been a dream this whole time, there's no y/n, no love of his life. the wind blowing harder as a sign, he steps into the cafeteria to calm his heartbeat, sitting with his back against the other tables, he rubs his eyes with his hands.

"so i ended up firing my previous p.t, he was too harsh on me, i could barely move the next day" your voice alerts him, almost scares him.

"yeah i remember, when i called you to help me move my furniture and you came and you could barely carry my microwave" san slowly turns around, recognizing the guy from the woods, sitting down in front of you. you had just settled into your seat, back to back with him.

"right? he pushed me too hard, it was his fault" a cute whine comes out of your mouth, san still processing the situation, wondering if it'd be too suspicious if he changes his seat so he could take a better look at you.

"i know, i know, i blame him, don't worry"

"but oh well, i'm excited to enter this pilates class with karina"

"where is it again?"

"just down the road near the theater, there's a studio above a library, we're meeting three times a week, starting this monday, then wednesdays and fridays" you smiled proudly.

"so no more movies after mr lee's class huh? well, i don't know if stretching will serve you anything but whatever suits you i guess" he muttered the last part jokingly.

"have you ever even done pilates yeosang?" you rolled your eyes at your friend.

"hell no, i'm a man" he tried to flex his covered muscles.

"oh please, try it once i dare you, oh- they forgot my dressing... i'll be right-" as you got up, without realizing san did as well and in the panic of the moment, he turned right into you, colliding with your much smaller frame. "oh, sorry..."

୨୧

next chapter.

[starly-amazing]

Cover art by @khorrorshow as a donation commission for Palestine. Commission him or his team here!

A Star From the Multiverse - Ch 4 is OUT!

Fic summary: Siffrin wakes up in the field South of Dormont... after beating the King. After WINNING. He should be celebrating their victory with his friends atop the house! They won! So WHY!? They drag themself through the day and to the Favor Tree in the dead of night. He calls out—wishes—for help and the Universe listens... by dropping an entirely alien creature with fangs and feathers and talons right at his feet.

Chapter summary: Wuh oh! Turns out Loop isn't quite as helpful as Siffrin had dared to hope. It's fine though! It's fine!!!

Rating: Mature (eventually) Graphic depictions of violence & all the canon-typical warnings.

[Read on Ao3]

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You

forgot

the rock trap!

YOU FORGOT THE ROCK TRAP!

IDIOT!

STUPID! STUPID!!!

THAT'S THE FIRST TRAP! HOW DID YOU FORGET THAT?

'THIS IS THE LAST LOOP' HUH?

THE LAST LOOP!

NOT GONNA DIE AGAIN, RIGHT?

HAHAHAHA

HAHAH AHHAHAHA HAHA HAHHAHHA HAHAH

OH THIS IS SO FUNNY! I HOPE THE AUDIENCE IS LAUGHING!

...

Because I'm not.

Siffrin wants to shrivel up and die right there. Just die die die and die again. Die and not come back.

If they can't even get past the first trap, how are they supposed to even beat the King again, let alone figure out what's really causing the loops?

They hear light footsteps and swishing grass and, as if being pulled up by puppet strings, they rise and stretch their smile back on.

Okay, well. The curtains open once more; they won't wait for you! Put your smile back on ‘stardust’ and don't make anyone suspicious this time!

Right on time, Mirabelle arrives to chastise them for napping. They smile and nod, smile and nod, and soon enough, she's on her way. Their eye was too unfocused to even tell if she was fooled by their act.

Not like it matters, anyway, he'll be dead in a day anyway.

But they'll have to put on the act once more, and then again and again and again until the end of time!

Stars.

They start to head to town, but a tug at the back of their mind has them turning back around and staring into the trees.

Oh right. Loop.

They push their way into the thicket and scan for any signs of the rukemi.

"Loop?" they call out to the boulder next to the suspiciously quivering foliage. "I'm going to the Favor Tree. I'll talk to you there, I guess."

Why there, anyway? There's no reason you have to go there.

...

Big tree nice.

They shrug, shake the leaden feeling from their limbs--or at least try--and trudge through the meadow.

Happy face. Happy face! Let's go Siffrin!

They pat their cheeks and shake their head to knock some of the despair away. Or, rather, to hide it better.

Mirabelle's second conversation went well, for the most part. She looked at them with a raised eyebrow and a quirk of the head a few times, but if she suspected anything, she said nothing.

Success! Just fit right back into that role!

...

Isabeau time.

" Tree-mendous tree! " they smirk and watch as he barks out his normal (normal!) laugh. He raises his hand toward Siffrin, stops, then lets it fall to his side.

Siffrin blinks. Did that happen before?

They can't take their mind off that gesture as they script their way through the rest of the conversation. It has been a while, after all, besides the complete fumble of the last loop.

He gives a small wave as Isabeau walks off, stopping at the treeline to give him a questioning look before leaving.

Weird. Well whatever, you probably still look like shit.

Shit?

Loop's swear popped into their mind so naturally. They don't even know what it means yet; maybe it isn't even a swear!

Sure sounds like one though. It has that zest only the good swears have.

He shrugs and moves on.

The Favor Tree looms over them, guarding a little patch of night under its million leaves. He inches forward and calls out.

"Loop?"

They look up into the branches to see the rukemi flattened against the same branch from last loop. They peer at him, tilting their head with their ears and long feathers fanned up and out. Like they're studying him, like they're deciding if he's a friend or a meal.

They don't respond. Just stare.

With a deep breath, Siffrin hauls themself up to their branch and plops down. They don't make eye contact for a moment, already suspecting some sort of quip for looping back so soon.

"So...Stardust?"

They groan. "I know, I know, I said that was the last loop and then messed it up."

"Hahah, yeah I uh..." They scratch the back of their head right under their long, fluffy feathers. "I suppose I should know what you're talking about?"

Siffrin's blood runs cold. "What? What!? What do you mean? You don't remember last ni--loop? ANYTHING?"

"I--" their gaze follows a dry leaf as it flutters down through the air, hitting and nearly sticking on branches on the way. "I think? Some things? You def--"

"Like what!?" He leans dangerously close to the edge of the branch.

Loop flinches. "Well, um. You're trying to kill a King?" they say with a huff and a flick of their tail.

A twisting feeling in their chest falls. "...Is that all?"

"No. Something about...hmm..." They bring their claw, no longer cracked, to their mouth and bite down once again. They speak in a low rumble. "No, that's impossible, but..."

"Yes!?"

"Time...loops? That's what you meant, right?"

Siffrin nods so aggressively their hat nearly falls off. "Yes! I told you about it and everything! And you don't remember?"

Loop lowers their head against their shoulders, as if trying to hide in their feathers. "Time loops, tyrannical king--now isn't that redundant?--he/they, stuck for a while, forgotten a lot since you've been trapped, I think, something about mangoes...oh right you told me quite a lot of personal details I don't think were relevant to anything, didn't you?"

Siffrin bites their lip. "Was relevant to me," they mumble.

Loop tilts their head. "Erm, well, we can unpack that another time." They put their claws together in the shape of a diamond.

"...Is that all?"

They make a swirling gesture in the air. "Bits and pieces of things. But, yes." Their feathers settle. "That's about it."

Siffrin sighs. They close their eye and press their face into their hands. Gravity pulls at them harder and harder, making them sink into themself. If the branch he's sitting on shatters and he crashes to the ground in a pile of meat, he wouldn't even be surprised.

Heh.

Ground meat.

But the branch holds firm, and he's faced with the fact that it's only his mind pulling him down.

"Stardust?"

Siffrin grunts. At least they remember that .

Okay. Okay, no this is fine. They're only mostly unhelpful! They remember more than your friends, at least! We can still figure things out!

Digging his palms into his face, he takes a deep breath and faces the rukemi. "We're here to kill the King who's been freezing everyone in time and--" they inhale again and push on. They repeat much of what they said the night before, slowly, painfully, already writing the script in their mind, they plan on telling Loop every single time from then on...

A flash of a buried memory flits across their mind, and they perk up slightly.

Oh right, at least there's that.

They divert the topic and dig through the mire for more and more, picking up speed until there's an edge of desperation to their voice.

More campfire meals. Finding an orb (which one, which one!?). Isabeau's strong hand stopping him from walking straight into a trap he so stupidly missed. Tending to Mirabelle's hair after the river mishap. Losing a drunken arm wrestling match to Odile. Losing a sober arm wrestling match to Bonnie.

Loop listens, just like the night before, head tilting side to side, occasionally having their attention stolen by a fluttering leaf or the gentle piou piou of a songbird.

After Siffrin's words peter off once again, they massage their throat and press their face into the cool, rough bark of the tree.

"Well." Loop stretches out, careful not to tumble out of the tree or snap the branch. "You certainly gave me a lot of information... Again."

"Please remember it this time," they murmur, dejected, hollow.

"Ehh. No promises."

Siffrin can only groan.

"But I certainly can try!" They give him a soft smile with their eye.

"Why can't you remember it all? Why is it only me?"

Why me why only me why why why?

"How would I know?" They give an exaggerated shrug. "Maybe you're infecting me with your memory problems."

"How would I even do that?"

They snort. "Well, we've already established time loops are a thing, so infectious amnesia doesn't seem quite so far-fetched anymore." They flick a leaf off their haunch with their tail. "Also, that was a joke."

Siffrin grumbles and knocks their head against the trunk. "Ugh, some help this is. The Universe is just toying with me at this point."

"I'm sorry ?" They raised their brow.

"I found you because the branch broke and you fell out of the tree."

Loop sinks their head into their shoulders. "Eghh, stars, that's unfortunately one of the things I do remember. What of it?"

"If the Universe did that--if it sent you to help , then this is just some sort of sick cosmic joke."

Just like me.

"Okay, first of all, rude. Secondly, the Universe doesn't work like that. It doesn't care about us. It just is. "

Siffrin presses his forehead to the bark. “Ugh, it’s not like any of that is real anyway." He lets out another long-suffering sigh.

"Are you even listening to me?" Loop's ears twitch. “Ehh, we’re getting off-topic anyway.”

Siffrin sniffs and shifts their head to look at them again. The bark scratches at their face and pulls at their hair.

“You still in there, stardust?”

They grunt.

"Okay, good enough," they shrug. "Anyway, I'm assuming you have not defeated the King again.”

"No." He knocks his cheek against the tree.

"Okay, well, did you try the thing I suggested? The er...poison?"

They grimace. "...No."

"And why not?"

Siffrin grits their teeth. "Didn't make it that far."

"Oo, that would mean you died, correct?"

They scrunch their nose and nod.

"Well, try not doing that again!"

He scowls and is only met with a twitch of Loop's ear.

"Well, anyway, now that you're not quite so...er...last night... Maybe we can put our heads together again and think of something else. What did your party do when you talked to them about it, again?"

"I haven't told them. I can 't tell them."

"Right. And you haven't told them once...why?"

“I told you why."

Loop squeezes their eye shut and exhales. "Something about not wanting to hurt them. A ridiculous reason in my humble opinion, but it seems like you're not budging on that." They clap their hands together and turn their eye upward in a smile. "Well! We'll just have to do this in a more roundabout way, then! Maybe there's somewhere you can do more research? You all have libraries here, right?"

They raise an eyebrow at Loop. Duh .

"Mhm. There's one in town and in the House."

"There you go! A new goal to strive for."

"Ehh, I'll check it, I guess."

How many more loops will it take to even find something useful? There's so many books in the House, and you can't even go into most of them.

"Great! Let's make a list of what we need to figure out. First order of business is to find an easier way to kill the King."

Siffrin presses themself even harder into the bark. "Don't even know if I can , I've tried thousands of times and only managed that one time. What if it was a fluke? What if Mira's not able to deal the final blow next time? What if there's never a 'next time'? What if I can't replicate what I did last time and have to fight him another thousand times?"

...

They scream into their hands.

"I can't do that. I can't keep doing this."

Loop's wings droop. "Well, that's what the research and experimenting is for, stardust. Finding another way." Their voice is gentle, soft like their feathers seem to be.

Siffrin's eye focuses on Loop's talons and how they so easily carve through the bark on the tree. An image flashes in their mind of them carving them into the King's throat--of their fangs slicing through all the weak points in his armor as he thrashes around and paints the room in his blood.

He thinks about Loop's jaws around his own throat--

"Can you help us?" The words tumble out of their lips on their own.

Stupid. Why are you asking this?

"Huh? I mean, I already am?" They flick their tail. "Well, trying, at least."

How are you going to explain to your friends? Are you that desperate?

"I mean help us fight the King."

'Oh, hey everyone, do you mind if I bring a blinding dragon thing with us to the fight? No, they won't eat you! Probably!'

"Er, no. I do distinctly remember telling you I'm not supposed to interact with humans. That includes killing them--even if it is regicide." They add that last bit with a huff and a gaze into the distance.

Siffrin sighs.

Well, at least you don't have to think about explaining anything.

"Plus, I won't be much help, I'm no fighter and couldn't kill a human even if I wanted to." There's a tinge of bitterness to that statement.

"But how? You're covered in sharp parts. It should be easy!"

" I am not a weapon !" they hiss, jaws slamming shut and glaring straight at him with an intense, wide-eyed look. Their feathers stand on end and almost vibrate with emotion.

It was enough to make Siffrin jump and straighten himself out.

" I. Don't. Fight . I didn't sign up for any of this." Loop grimaces and slaps their hand to their head, digging their talons into their scalp. "I didn't ask for this blinding migraine or to be dropped at your feet in the dead of night. I'm helping because I'm stuck in this fucking mess too, but I will not fight your battles for you."

A shiver runs down their spine as their blood chills. "Right, okay, sorry."

Loop studies them for a moment longer, making them shrink into their collar and under their hat until they look like a stray pile of clothes.

Loop sighs and scratches the bridge of their snout. "It's fine." A bit of dried skin falls off their scar and spirals down. The exposed flesh underneath makes the space behind Siffrin's good eye ache a bit. The shade of it is...slightly strange, but they can't really put their finger on what is so wrong about it.

Now that it isn’t quite so dark as before, Siffrin can take a closer look at Loop.

They look… not great.

He can't see much of their left eye; there's hardly any left of it besides scar tissue. It doesn't seem like they can open or close it any more than it already is.

The scar on their face is thick and leathery and extends partway down their neck. It's mottled with different shades and patterns, suggesting that it hadn’t been properly healed. It seems to pull their head slightly to the left as the skin has tightened from whatever injury caused it. A burn? There's really nothing else that could have done it...unless it was caused by whatever chemical warfare Loop was talking about.

Siffrin suppresses a shudder.

They seem to be missing feathers here and there, and many of the existing ones are damaged or dirty. And their front legs--the skin on them looks rough and mottled, though not quite as extreme as their facial scar.

It's hard for Siffrin to really guess much about Loop's condition outside of the obvious--it's not like he knows any other rukemis to compare them to. But... thinking about the fluffy round birds hopping around town, and the many, many chickens and ducks they've seen in their lifetime (oh, a memory! He's seen chickens and ducks before, now isn't that useful!) Loop looks... thin.

"Loop, are you hungry?"

They jump slightly; it seems like they were distracted by studying Siffrin themself.

"I could be, perhaps. Maybe a little." They puff out the feathers on their body just a bit.

"I can get you something to eat." They grab their silver coin and squeeze it in their hand until it hurts. "Well, I don't have any money, but I can catch some fish."

Loop's ears turn back, and they sigh. "It's fine, stardust. It's not like it matters if we're going to go back in time anyway."

"...Right."

The sun is close to the horizon. Dinner will be ready soon. Maybe he can leave a plate out for them; it's not like food does him any good anymore.

"Anyway, I'm sure you have places to be soon. So hurry on over to the library to find some other way of killing the King and more about the loops or whatever." They scratch at their throat. "I still vote poison, or dropping the ceiling on him, but I'm sure there's other magic spells you can use to turn him inside out or something."

Ew. But again, too kind an end for him.

"Okay. Thank you, Loop."

"Don't mention it. And please find something soon."

"I'll try."

Siffrin shifts themself and clambers down the massive tree, making each step with care to fight off the pins and needles that have returned. He takes one more glance at Loop as they watch him silently, head resting on their hands.

With a nod, he heads to the library and feels his smile plaster itself back on the moment he reenters Dormont. He wastes no time with pleasantries and heads straight for the nearest bookshelf.

The librarian approaches him anyway. "You're one of the saviors, right?" They ask with a tilt of their head, the beads on their glasses make a funny little clinking sound. "Do you need my help with something?"

He flinches. They stare at the librarian, giving them a questioning gaze. 

Oh right the boulangier isn’t the only villager who talks to you. Oh. When was the last time you even went there? 

A pain au chocolat doesn’t sound terrible in that moment. Maybe they should go grab one. Anything chocolate. Maybe something for Loop, too.

Wait… 

Can Loop eat chocolate? Or will it kill them because they’re part dog or something?

“Hello?” The librarian waves a hand in front of their face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, right? No chocolate for me, please—I mean I’m fine, thank you!”

They blink a few times. “Well, okay then. I’ll be over here if you need anything.”

Siffrin pulls their smile wider and waves a ‘thank you’ before turning back to the bookshelves.

Okay, that was blinding awkward of you, but whatever, not like any of this matters in the loops anyway! 

He shakes his head clear. Sliding his finger across the spine of every book, he reads each title carefully, once, sometimes twice, blinking away the fog in his mind.

Useless.

Useless.

Useless.

Weird headache book again.

Oh? No, just basic craft spells.

Nothing. Of course not. They probably checked it a hundred times before and just forgot.

What were they looking for again?

Oh, right, ways to hit the King harder and a book on time loops, as if that's something that exists outside of fiction. Maybe one of Mira’s horror books has something on time loops. Maybe it’s based on a true story too! You just gotta casually ask her—

No, that’s stupid, of course it’s stupid! 

Defeated, they lightly hit their head on the shelf and trudge out. 

Whatever. Whatever! It's something to look forward to. Enrichment!

They blink.

They're at dinner, eating ash once again. He smiles through the banter and is happy to notice that their friends aren't as suspicious as the previous loop. Or at least they don't seem to be.

Something to look forward to. Don't run headlong into your death this time!

He blinks.

They're in bed and Isabeau is once again trying to tell him what he's tried to say a thousand times before.

Don't be stupid, stupid, stupid this time.

They close their eye.

They're back at the House once more. At least they managed to get a little more rest that time. Even if they didn't get to sleep much, they still got to be horizontal for a few hours.

Beats sitting in a tree and talking all night.

It's hopeless.

But at least there's something new to do.

For now.

[melon-fodder]

accidental aizawa x reader, established shinsou x reader

cw: nonconsensual groping kinda? maybe secondhand embarrassment. it’s really not that deep. reader just makes an oopsie

You crash at Hitoshi’s apartment after a late night villain takedown, both of you falling asleep immediately after showering together.

After only a few hours of rest, you pad into the kitchen, still groggy and half blind with sleep. Hitoshi is by the sink, back turned to you to watch the drizzle of coffee from the machine to the pot. He’s still in pajamas, old t-shirt and those offensively bright pink sweatpants. His blurry figure makes you smile, and you slink up behind him, your hands quick to slide under his shirt and over his abs, except—

“Uhh…”

This is most definitely not your boyfriend. Similar build, same clothes, but… oh god, oh fuck, that is most definitely not purple hair tied in a bun, but black, and that is not what Hitoshi usually smells like, but it is familiar, and you think you’re gonna be sick, whole body frozen except for your rolling stomach.

“Coffee might wake you up a little more,” Aizawa says, voice low and gravelly and slightly amused.

You can’t move, can’t say anything, just stand there in absolute shock at the fact that you just groped your former teacher, now sometimes colleague, and he’s just acting like… like…

“T-Toshi has the same sweatpants,” you say dumbly, pulling your shaking hands away and taking about seven steps back.

Aizawa glances at you over his shoulder, expression unreadable as always, then turns back to the cupboard to grab a mug, sets it down next to the one already in front of him.

The stream of coffee hits ceramic, the sound amplified in the near silent kitchen. Aizawa remains quiet but moves as if everything is fine, like this is just a normal part of his morning routine. It’s only when he turns and hands you a steaming cup that he speaks again.

“Shinsou doesn’t have sweatpants like these. He just wears mine.”

He releases the handle of the mug when he’s sure you’ve got a good grasp on it, but his fingers still brush over yours. You figure it’s an accident until you feel a gentle but deliberate tap against your knuckles, still bruised from last night.

When you don’t respond, he volunteers a little more information: “I got back from a mission at around four this morning. This place is closer than my apartment. Shinsou gave me a key a few years ago.”

You blink. Nod. “That makes… that makes sense. Sorry about—”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. You didn’t know I was here just like I didn’t know you were,” Aizawa says matter-of-factly.

You’ll gladly take the out. Anything to get your face to cool off.

Aizawa sidesteps you, seemingly having nothing else to say as he makes his way toward the well-loved couch in the attached living area.

Your eyes follow, scanning over his frame in an attempt to find every single difference and similarity between him and Hitoshi. He’s slightly broader in the chest and shoulders, but Toshi’s got an inch or so over him in height. Both have wild, shoulder-length hair, but Aizawa’s is obviously darker save for the few silver streaks.

And while you shouldn’t, you now know that your boyfriend is more defined than Aizawa. His abs are hard, stomach bare aside from the purple trail under his naval. Aizawa isn’t isn’t soft by any means; he felt solid under your hands. He just isn’t cut like Hitoshi. Isn’t young like Hitoshi.

As you watch Aizawa get comfortable on the couch, your gaze just happens to fall on those ridiculous fucking sweatpants again. Your eyes are drawn to his hips, how low the waistband sits on them, and it’s then that you spot one more similarity between the two men:

They both get hard when you touch them.

[allthingsfangirl101]

*In Need of A Little Guidance – Glen Powell

Warnings: self-masturbation, turn-on, teasing, fantasy fulfillment, unprotected sex, language

Glen's POV

"And cut!" Our director yelled. I glanced over, my entire body burning when I saw Y/N in her overly exposing costume. I burned hotter when she looked at me and smiled.

"Nicely done, Powell," Y/N giggled. I tried not to look at Y/N's exposed chest, but it was useless.

"You too, Y/L/N," I said, trying to sound normal even though I was fighting the urge to throw her over my shoulder and have my way with her in my trailer like I've imagined doing so many times.

I quickly turned on my heels before she could figure out what kind of things I was imagining myself doing to her. I all but sprinted to my trailer, locking the door behind me.

As I lay down and started taking care of myself, I imagined Y/N on top of me. I imagined her in her sexy pilot uniform, riding me. I imagined her screaming my name as I devoured her. I imagined spending all night with her. I imagined waking up next to her with her tightly in my arms. I imagined her telling me that she's had feelings for me, real feelings, since we started filming. I imagined us dating, hooking up whenever our scenes turned us on. I imagined our future together.

I was ripped from my daydream when someone knocked on the door.

"Hey, Glen?"

"Shit," I mumbled. "What do you need, Y/N?" I asked, hoping she didn't walk in.

"I was gonna see if you were alright," she said through the door.

"Why. . . Why wouldn't I be alright?" I stuttered. I closed my eyes, praying she would just walk away.

"You've been acting kind of weird all day," she explained. "Do you want to go get dinner? We could talk through things."

I bit my tongue, choking on my moan. This always happened. Y/N was a badass on screen, but the second we stopped filming, she was sweet and caring. And she, somehow, knew when I was having a rough day. I wouldn't even say anything to her, and she'd show up at my trailer with lunch and some beers she snuck onto set.

Whenever she did this, all I wanted to do was take her and make her behave very un-sweetly.

"Glen?"

"Not right now," I said quickly. I cringed when I heard how rude that sounded.

"Oh," she said, clearing her throat. "Okay. Well, if you change your mind. . ."

"I won't," I rushed out, instantly hating myself for it.

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll see you tomorrow. I guess."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," I whispered to myself as I heard her start to walk down the stairs to my trailer.

Reader's POV

At the bottom of the stairs, I froze. I smirked, knowing exactly what Glen was doing in his trailer. I unbuttoned my shirt a little too much, hiked up my pencil skirt, and ran my fingers through my hair. I quietly snuck into his trailer, closing the door softly behind me. When I got in, I had to hold back my laugh.

Glen was lying on his couch, his eyes closed, and his hand down the front of his pants. He was so focused on pleasuring himself that he had no idea I was there. I unbuttoned one more button before quickly jumping on top of Glen and straddling his lap.

"Y/N?!" He gasped. He started to pull his hand out of his pants, but I quickly grabbed his wrist, not looking away from his eyes.

"I had a feeling that you were lying to me, Powell," I said as sexily as I could. "You are not fine."

"I was just. . ."

"You're in need of a little help," I cut him off. Before he could do anything, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. I finally let go of his hand and grabbed his face as our lips moved messily in sync.

I moaned against his lips when he pulled his hand out of his pants and placed both of them on my thighs. I moaned again when I felt how wet his hand was.

"Wow," I moaned as I broke the kiss. I looked down at his wet hand on my thigh. "You must've had quite the daydream."

"I did," he said through his teeth.

"What did you dream about, baby?" I asked, sitting back on his lap and slightly moving my hips. "Tell me, and maybe we can act it out."

Glen's face fell slightly, and his face turned pink. Seeing this shift, I decided to push him gently.

"What's wrong, Glen?" I purred, rolling my body down his. Soon, I was lying on top of him, waiting for him to open up. "Don't go shy on me now, baby," I whispered before leaning in and pressing my lips roughly to his. He moaned against my lips as his hands found my ass. I broke the kiss and started nibbling on his neck.

It took me beginning to slide my hand down his pants for him to finally moan out, "You were riding me in your sexy pilot costume, baby girl." I sat up and started rubbing his chest.

"Keep going," I prompted.

"We were turned on by our scene," he continued.

"That we were," I said, tearing off my shirt. I smirked when he groaned as his eyes scanned my bra.

I grabbed his chin, making him look back at my eyes. "Keep going," I pushed again as I moved my hips in just the right way.

"We were turned on by our scene, so we came back to my trailer and you were riding me."

"Is that the only thing that happened, sexy?" I asked, slightly pouting. He watched as I reached down and took off his shirt.

"No," he said through clenched teeth. "As I imagined you riding me and screaming my name, I pictured our life together. I pictured spending night after night with you. I pictured waking up in each other's arms. I pictured us telling each other we had real feelings. I pictured us sneaking around, hooking up whenever our scenes drove us crazy. I pictured us having a future together."

I stopped moving my hips against his and studied his eyes. "You pictured all that?"

"All that," he said softly, as he gently massaged my hips. "Is that. . . Did I just creep you out?"

Instead of answering, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. He instantly started kissing me back. We fell into a perfect rhythm as we undressed each other without disconnecting.

I broke the kiss once we were completely undressed. "We can't do everything that you pictured right now," I said, already out of breath, "but we can get started."

And get started we did.

Glen quickly rolled us so he could hover over me.

"What the fuck are we waiting for?" He growled before smashing his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Our lips moved messily in sync as we battled for dominance. Glen quickly took control.

"Glen," I moaned, breaking the kiss. The second I broke the kiss, he started sucking on my neck. "Baby, we should probably use. . ." I cut myself off with a moan as he bit my collarbone.

He pulled away from me with a grunt. I sat up a little as he got off me and rummaged through his things for a condom. My eyes scanned his body, my heart beating against my chest as he returned to me.

Without breaking eye contact, Glen slipped the condom on. I bit my bottom lip as he put his hand on my stomach and pushed me back so I was lying down. I took a shaky breath as he crawled on top of me. I waited for him to kiss me, but he didn't. He just stared at me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked slowly.

"No," he said under his breath. "I'm just making sure I remember. . . everything."

I gasped when he leaned down and roughly pressed his lips to mine. I instantly reached up and started running my fingers through his hair. He moaned when I pulled on his hair. Me doing this seemed to send him into overdrive.

Not that I minded.

Glen grabbed my thigh and wrapped my leg around his waist as he positioned his hips. I gasped, arching my back and breaking the kiss, when Glen pushed into me. As he rocked his hips into mine, I squeezed my eyes closed.

I heard Glen chuckle, but I kept my eyes closed as he kept going. Without pulling out of me, he leaned in and whispered, "Moan for me, baby. That's what I need. You to moan as I fulfill everything I've done to you in my dreams."

What Glen did next made me moan exactly the way he wanted me to. He leaned down and pressed his face between my breasts.

"Shit!" I gasped, pulling Glen's hips closer to mine. He groaned because of the pressure and started biting my breasts.

"Oh, Glen," I moaned as our hips rocked in sync. I moaned his name over and over again as he explored my chest. I shivered when he started to lick my body, beginning at my belly button. I swore as his tongue slid up my body, passing my breasts, and up my neck. He cut off my moan when he shoved his tongue roughly into my mouth.

Without breaking the sloppy kiss, Glen grabbed my hips and rolled us over. He sat up with me on his lap. I broke the kiss and smirked at him. I knew exactly what he wanted.

I repositioned myself and glanced up to see him watching me eagerly. We maintained eye contact as I brought my hips down to his, making him slide into me.

"Fuck," he moaned as he leaned his head back against the couch. He grabbed my hips and squeezed them tightly. "That's it, baby. Keep going. Fucking hell, Y/N."

I leaned in and started sucking on his neck as he continued to swear and tell me to keep going.

"Is this what you imagined?" I asked after chewing on his ear. "Me riding you."

"Fuck yeah!" He yelled. I gasped, quickly turning into a giggle as Glen roughly rolled us over so he was back on top. We stared at each other for a second, both of us breathing heavily.

"Finish me, baby."

He smirked before sending things into overdrive. It didn't take long for us to fulfill our fantasies. We let out matching moans as we both released. I squeezed my eyes shut and arched my back as he gently pulled out of me. I waited for him to get off me, but he didn't. Instead, he laid next to me and wrapped his arms around me. I leaned my head on his chest and listened to his heart.

"I know I talked about it as if it were a daydream," Glen said, his voice soft, "but I meant it. I have feelings for you, Y/N. Strong feelings. Every day I come on set, eager to see you. And all the sexy scenes we've been filming have been driving me crazy."

"How about this," I said, slightly sitting up, "whenever one of our scenes turns you on, text me. We'll meet in your trailer or mine and. . ."

Glen laughed when I didn't continue. He cupped my face in his hand and delicately pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started kissing him back as I rolled over so I was lying on top of him.

"Only," he broke the kiss, breathing heavily, "if you let me know if one of our scenes turns you on."

"Well," I smirked, "then we'd be hooking up every day, baby, because every scene we film turns me on."

"I'm okay with that," he whispered as he put his hand on the back of my head. I let him pull my head toward his and press our lips together. We broke apart when someone knocked on Glen's trailer.

"Hey, Powell!" They yelled. "You're needed on set!"

"Be right there!" Glen yelled back without looking away from me. He lowered his voice as he asked, "Continue this later?"

"Absolutely."

[hummingbird24220]

I've never requested anything nsfw before so this one is quite tame but how about reader gets caught changing and things escalate from there? With your one piece man of choice!

(Loved the neko Reader updates <3)

Sure! Its not as long as i would like it to be, but ive decided i need to give Usopp some love! (i did start writing this for Sanji (x )

Hope you like it!

Wrong Door, Right Moment

Usopp x reader

Slight NSFW (implied nudity, flustered Usopp, suggestive teasing, mutual tension)

The Thousand Sunny had finally docked after a long week at sea, and everyone scattered the second their feet touched dry land. You stayed behind, needing a moment to change out of your salt-stiffened clothes before heading into town.

With everyone gone, you figured you were safe.

Your shirt hit the floor just as the door creaked open behind you.

“Hey, [Y/N], have you seen my—OH SWEET SEA KING’S—!”

You spun around, eyes wide, just in time to see Usopp freeze like a deer in headlights, a pair of goggles sliding up his forehead as his jaw dropped.

“USOPP?!”

“I—You—You’re not wearing—! I MEAN, I DIDN’T—!”

His hands flailed wildly as he turned, smacking into the doorframe before slamming the door shut behind him. You blinked, heart racing, suddenly very aware of your current state of undress.

Outside the door, you could hear his panicked muttering.

“Stupid! Stupid! She’s gonna kill me! Or worse—Sanji’s gonna kill me!”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing.

A few moments later, now dressed (and still grinning), you opened the door and leaned on the frame.

Usopp was still there, nervously pacing, face red as a cherry tomato.

“So,” you teased, arms crossed, “did you like the show, or should I charge you next time?”

His head snapped up so fast you thought it might fly off.

“W-What?! No—I mean—YES—I mean—NO—Wait!”

You stepped closer, loving the way he fumbled.

“Relax, Usopp. I’m not mad. Accidents happen... but you didn’t exactly run away immediately.”

He sputtered, nearly falling over himself. “I was trying to—uh—process! You were just—there! Glowing! I mean, not glowing like a ghost, glowing like—uh—beautiful??”

You raised a brow, amused. “You think I’m beautiful?”

He choked on his own spit.

You reached up and tugged gently on his bandana, drawing him closer. “Well then, maybe next time… knock first. Or maybe don’t, if you ask nicely.”

His brain short-circuited right there.

Usopp’s hands hovered mid-air like he couldn’t decide whether to hold you, run away, or drop dead on the spot.

“I… I wasn’t looking—okay, maybe I looked a little—but not like a creep! I just—your back was turned! And then I saw skin and I panicked and then you turned around and it was—”

You placed a finger to his lips, silencing the ramble.

“Usopp.”

His mouth clamped shut, eyes wide.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

He made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a cough.

“I mean, you always are, but right now? Absolutely adorable.”

You slid your hand down his chest—lightly, slowly—until it rested right above his belt, watching the way his breath hitched.

“[Y/N]…” he murmured, voice strained, “You’re gonna make me pass out.”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t want that. But maybe you deserve a little payback for not knocking.”

You leaned in close, your breath brushing his ear.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I might not cover up so fast.”

Usopp audibly gulped, his face now a shade of red that could rival a Devil Fruit.

“I—uh—I should go—cool off—maybe dive into the ocean real quick—” he stammered, backing away and bumping into the hallway wall.

You caught his hand before he could bolt.

“One condition,” you said, tugging him back just enough to lean up and press a feather-light kiss to his cheek. “You walk me into town. I want to see how long you can pretend you’re not thinking about earlier.”

He let out a strangled noise, nodded dumbly, and followed you like a lost puppy.

You swore you heard him mutter, “This is better than any dream I’ve ever had…”

[demigod-shenanigans]

Exactly!!! Like they’re trying so hard to make sure their kid (and every other demigod they meet, I’m kind of obsessed with adult Waystation Valgrace specifically based on the concept that they help anyone who comes by and get them exactly what they need for whatever stupid quest they can’t get out of asking for absolutely nothing in return) grow up in a world that is kinder and better than the one that shaped them into who they were.

And obviously there are things they can’t fix, that are too big to be fixed in their lifetime, and I think that’s something they (especially Jason who grew up being told he was basically destined to do great things and lead and save everyone around him) need to come to terms with, before it kills them a second time. Or, like, a fourth time in Jason’s case since he has so many fakeout/temporary almost-deaths, but who’s counting?

If I ever get around to writing more stuff where Sofía is a little older, I’m gonna be playing around a lot with the whole improving Camp Jupiter thing. We’ll see how it goes.

So, the thing about someone else infodumping at me is that it brings me joy. I love hearing/seeing people ramble about stuff they’re passionate about, even if I have no context for it. I’m reading that stuff grinning because I’m learning new things and the person who wrote it clearly had so much fun doing it. Best feeling in the universe.

However. When I start rambling at people, I feel like I’m the most annoying person on the planet and need to shut up. It’s a feeling I’ve had for a very long time that I have yet to figure out how to combat.

Anyway, enough about that. I’ll try to make my anxiety voice shut up about it for the moment. I love talking fankid stuff.

-Please please please write or ramble about Socrates, I have had him for one paragraph and would love more input. I feel like Leo is the only cat person in his main friend group (Piper had a dog so she absolutely is a dog person, Jason just screams dog person, also counting Reyna here since they’re friends post-ToA and she should have gotten to be friends with Jason again and she’s obviously also a dog person since she has two of them). Anyway, Jason would probably cave immediately if Leo said he wanted a cat. Even more so if their kid also wanted a cat. I know this in my heart. Is Socrates from a shelter? Is he a stray one of them started feeding who just stuck around? Did Isabella just decide she wanted a pet one day and Socrates was the one she picked out?

-Oooh Isabella getting a blessing from her godly granddad is a really cool concept. I kinda love the idea of tiny Isabella who doesn’t know her godly parent just going to Vulcan’s Temple on temple hill instead when she needs something, taking along a really pitiful little crafts thing to gift/“sacrifice” to him (maybe like an ancestry thing came up in school and she was sad over not having any alive mortal grandparents to talk to and Hephaestus is the next best thing since Jupiter is… a whole Problem). And, well, she did try, and she’s not technically related to him and that wasn’t even the right aspect of his to pray to since Leo is a Greek demigod, but Vulcan/Hephaestus does do the granddad thing of putting her equivalent of a shoddy crayon drawing on the fridge and because he doesn’t know how to thank her the normal way so she ends up with the blessing (anyway please feel free to ignore the concept if you don’t like it, it’s just a silly little thought I had and I thought I’d share it)

-LMAO Leo would be so obnoxious about that oh my god. Just brings it up at every opportunity. I’m now also imagining them being at the hospital (maybe Jason got concussed again idk) and Leo is anxious and keeps making jokes about how technically he’s also a doctor

-Yeah I’m not surprised her relationship with Zeus/Jupiter isn’t great. There is something to be said about how he’s got a lot of kids in the myths and his cabin being one of the ones least intended to host any actual children.

-Speaking of, I may have asked this before, but since technically the whole “there shouldn’t be any big three kids”-ban has been done since the end of pjo, does Isabella have any Jupiter/Zeus kid aunts and uncles aside from Thalia? If so, what’s their relationship like? (I have a lot of feelings about the concept of Jason seeing his younger half-siblings struggle with the same kind of pressure he was under and wanting really desperately to be a good big brother/stable supportive adult in their lives because he never got to have that when he was their age)

-Oh I love the submarine concept that’s so fun.

-I would also love to hear more about that Hermes kid, if you’d like to share? I have a couple more next gen kids I could yap about in return that I haven’t posted about yet.

-“I’ll build the Go-Karts” I’m dying oh my god. He’s trying so hard and it’s so sweet and also so devastating (I’m also NOT thinking about how Leo himself probably didn’t have a proper birthday celebration between the ages of 8 and, like, 17. Nope. Not thinking about it)

-I wish I was better at writing Hazel because her friendship with Leo (outside of the weird unnecessary love triangle stuff) is genuinely really sweet. I love the thought of them having someone to talk about that to since it’s obviously an experience basically no one else outside of them really gets.

-Yeah, I love exploring the whole “kid who sees this person as just Their Parent” vs “camp who’s made them into a mythical hero figure”-theme. Also using the mischaracterizations as something people who’ve never met them think is conceptually hilarious and something that would probably actually happen.

-Well now I’m thinking about the concept of the awful film adaptations being a project by a demigod (possibly an Apollo kid? Or maybe a child of one of the Muses?) put together to immortalize Percy and Annabeth’s Epic Adventures, except they never even met Percy and Annabeth and just based it on stuff they heard at some point. Or maybe they asked one of the Hermes kids for help, who just kept making shit up because they thought it was funny.

-And yeah, you’re absolutely right that the way stories change over time is absolutely fascinating. I wish I had something more elaborate to say about that but I do find it super interesting.

-I also absolutely will be checking that YouTube channel out when I have some time, that sounds really really cool!

-Poor Olympia. Can you imagine what it would be like standing in the middle of a fandom discussion with a bunch of incorrect people who are all talking about your parents? Especially as a grandkid of the wisdom goddess? Good lord 😭😭😭

-And yeah obviously any child of the seven would probably have that problem to a certain degree, but obviously Percy and Annabeth are the main heroes of CHB and have been since before the rest of the seven came around. And especially with her likely being the first legacy to ever visit CHB, since that wasn’t really a thing for Greek demigods in pjo… yeah, that would be stressful as hell.

-I love Finley’s chosen name being more powerful <3

-That’s a really interesting point about combining last names thinking it might benefit the kids. It also makes me wonder if some couples trying to figure out which one of their last names because they’ve had shit luck and don’t want to pass that on to their kids. (I feel like that’s something Leo might get in his head about because it was his mom’s name who he loved but who also died young and is his name and he’s convinced he’s cursed anyway. But also Jason loves Leo and loves Leo’s name and will gladly let the Grace name fade into oblivion because he’s got absolutely zero positive connections to it)

-I also love making people (Jason, also Reyna, to name some examples) take their partner’s name when they get married to place the family they chose over the family they were born into. The name you choose for yourself being more important than the one you were given goes super well with found family narratives and I love it for that, among other reasons

-I love hearing about Olympia. Kinda makes me want to talk about the Percabeth kids from Sofíaverse.

-Found family!!! Also I’m worried about whatever is up with the godly side of Isabella’s family since it does Not sound like the reveal will go over well from the way you talk about it

This song is so Married Valgrace. And ik I’d say that about every single song including the Kahoot Lobby Music but this one is especially the vibe

LMAO you're so real for the Kahoot Lobby Music thing, if I'm fixated on something everything is about that something now. Sorry to the books I'm reading and shows I'm watching you are now all AUs of this one thing I like

Anyway you're so right and you should say it (and also the ending of the song made me sob, oh my god? Evil?)

I also feel a very strong need to retaliate now /Ih) so may I suggest I Wanna Grow Old With You as a married Valgrace song?

[kawareo]

'Puppy'

Same hound, different time, different critter

[iknaenmal]

sing your heart out !

[camgoloud]

he still has his tonsils. by the way if you even care

[sanchoyo]

haven’t been on much bc my dog has been sick :( between seizures and an infected tooth we’ve been having a Time trying to get everything fixed (this started around the holidays so our vet has been very booked up…we have been like 3-4 times in the past 4-5 weeks OTL does not help it’s like an hour drive there, so that’s been exhausting) now his new seizure meds are making him sick (was hoping it was like, just an adjustment period thing but he’s been sick for a week and having concerning symptoms…) if I’m not on a ton or slow to replying to messages it’s bc I’m working as much overtime as my job will give me bc Vet Expensive and mentally drained obvi 😞

[lovesickeros]

Ur writing is just soo!! mwah♡♡ I just read pt3 of " Even the God's bleed " and I- I can't I just love the way you write all the characters ( especially Furina<3 ) but like I can't wait to see where the story goes and ugh I'm so excited 💖 💗 ( remember to take care of urself pookie )

(/@^@/) ~*♡☆♡♡°~

well good news then bc ive already started pt 4 so there (hopefully) won't be a 2 month wait time between chapters this time.......at the most I'd give it a week, maybe

[maplebunie]

chants of sennaar is a fun game if youre good at guessing what the devs were thinking

[mayordeas-clone]

worst school year of my career FOR REAL