#which is...... in hell. but hey. he's fine.

[caffeinatelove]

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟdating reo and nagi you play soccer with your boyfriends!

𝐛𝐲𝐫: these are just headcanons! female reader, polyamory, intended lowercase, includes swearing, possible out of character / mischaracterisation, fluff, suggestive and sexual themes!

you didn’t know much about soccer.

which, in hindsight, was kind of funny seeing as the sport was a major factor in both your boyfriends' lives. if not, what their world primarily revolved around. of course, you understood the basics… you know you get a point when the ball goes in the net. you know 'offside' is apparently a thing people fight over like it’s life or death.

oh, and you know exactly when to turn the tv on to watch real madrid play. that one’s real important.

although, reo and nagi would probably disagree.

you remember softly padding into the living room one day, only to find them cuddled up watching tv together. the familiar cheering catches your attention, and your eyes sweep over what’s displayed on the screen.

"hey, this is madrid playing, right?"

"uh–yeah!" reo lights up, beyond surprised that you even knew the team’s name. it’s a good kind of surprised, though. and he immediately scoots over, patting the cushion beside him. "got it right. good job, princess."

"they’re versing those barça guys. should be intense." nagi quietly informs as you slide into the far end of the couch. you almost never watch games with them, let alone make the effort to engage, so they’re pretty thrilled to think you’re finally taking an interest in their world.

"sick! so… where’s jude bellingham?"

a moment of silence.

when you turn to face your boyfriends' they’re both sporting the same incredibly unimpressed look. and you swear that reo’s eyebrow twitched.

"so that’s what this is about." he mutters, feeling a tad bit betrayed, and it sounds like he’s speaking more to himself than anything.

"what? i just think he’s a good player." you sheepishly whistle, leaning forward to ogle the tv once said athlete finally comes on.

"he’s not even that good!" reo suddenly snaps, arms crossed over his chest, and it’s definitely not about soccer anymore.

"overrated." nagi huffs, reaching for the remote with way too much effort for someone who usually refuses to walk more than five steps unless bribed. "this is getting tiresome. let’s watch something else."

"i agree.” reo grumbles.

he changes the channel and some stupid cartoon animation starts playing. you blink, unable to believe their childish jealousy. "are you two serious?"

after that, you realise that your type must be immature men. you also make a mental note to never again disclose even the notion of having a celebrity crush around them. but the incident ultimately makes you realise that you probably could try a little harder to understand the sport they love.

so a few days later, you casually bring it up over breakfast. "would it be okay if i played soccer with you guys sometime?"

and just like that, your two boyfriends are choking on their orange juice. nagi slowly blinks like he misheard you, and reo’s staring like you just proposed. which, to be fair, you might as well have.

because the idea of you wanting to play soccer with them, of you wanting to be part of something they love so much? it makes their heart warm. to their knowledge you’ve never really played before, but that doesn’t matter, because they’re already jumping at the chance to say yes.

nagi nods his head curtly. "i’d be okay with that."

meanwhile, reo’s practically bouncing up and down, unable to contain his excitement. "of course we can play together! i���ll get you whatever you need. shin guards, a personal coach, hell, i’ll rent out the local park just so we can–"

"my backyard is fine." you quickly respond, grabbing onto his shoulders to stop him from freaking out any further.

he pauses, your touch grounding him. "you sure, princess?"

"yes! i don’t wanna pursue it or anything like that, i just know how much you two really enjoy it. so, why not? i wanna spend time doing something that you guys like." you quietly admit. and that response has them absolutely melting. it’s settled. cemented. you’re all going to play soccer together.

and so, the day eventually rolls around.

like promised, it’s nothing serious, just the three of you preparing to play a game of soccer in your oddly spacious backyard.

nagi’s half-asleep placing some cones down in vague formations, like he’s making it up as he goes. and reo’s struggling to get the portable goal net upright. when finally, you finish getting ready.

"we can start now!" you announce, stepping outside.

with your compression shirt hugging everything, a form fitting skirt to match that swayed with every step and the final kill shot; a pair of baby pink cleats that are so offensively cute, it’s truly a miracle the grass didn’t catch on fire beneath you.

both boys falter immediately upon noticing you. reo can feel his heart hammering in his ears. a noise that only intensifies once he catches sight of your bare thighs under the skirt. and then the adorable cleats just below them. oh god. a cone slips out of nagi’s grip by accident — like the muscles in his hand just went completely slack.

"okay, guys, i’m ready." you rest your hands on your hips.

that’s when the white haired boy suddenly tilts his head all the way back, staring up at the sky and directly into the sun as if trying to blind himself.

"um, treasure, what are you doing?" reo coughs into his hand, voice strained like he’s holding his self control together with nothing more than dental floss.

"just in case i get a nose bleed." nagi says flatly. "it’s a real hassle when it drips on your clothes, you know?"

"guys? is everything okay?" your voice cuts in, extremely oblivious to what’s causing their very weird demeanour.

reo opens his practically foaming mouth. closes it. tries again.

"it’s just, uh," he mutters, "you’re usually supposed to wear loose clothes when you, uh…"

your face flushes slightly in embarrassment, the slip up highlighting how little you know about the sport. "oh. should i change into something else then?"

"NO."

you’re flustered, sure, but also a little amused. they look like they’re about to spontaneously combust and you’ve barely said three sentences. was it really riling them up this much?

"so… i take it my clothes are okay?"

they both nod like zombies, looking a little bit glazed over.

you hum in determination, moving over to the ball and hesitantly kicking it forward, trying to get used to rolling it under your foot. "alright then, let’s start."

reo tugs at the collar of his jersey, letting out a half exasperated half strangled sound. "she’s trying to kill me."

"us." nagi corrects, finally looking back down at you, before immediately adverting his eyes again. "that outfit… hmph. she could’ve warned us beforehand."

after everyone calms down, you finally agree to start playing. and you realise that you’re actually a bit nervous. of course this was meant to be nothing more than a fun game with your partners, where they teach you as you go along, but they were essentially both pro players. who wouldn’t be a bit nervous?

but surprisingly, both your boyfriends' are so soft about it.

maybe you were just too accustomed to witnessing their ruthlessness while in blue lock, because you weren’t expecting it.

but nagi stays close to help your stance. he’ll lightly touch your waist while guiding you, the action sending unwarranted butterflies in your stomach. "other side." he’ll mumble, gently adjusting your foot with his. "see? there you go."

you’re definitely getting babied, but you don’t mind it. you actually enjoy how nagi whispers quiet words of encouragement. whereas reo, on the other hand, was acting like your own personal cheerleader, praising everything and anything you do like you’re some kind of prodigy. even though you’re the farthest one from it.

you kick the ball and miss?

he’s clapping.

you then attempt to chase after it and stumble a bit?

well, now he’s cheering. "that was so close! you’re a natural!"

you try to pass but it’s crooked and you somehow trip and plant yourself face first into the grass?

"ah shit–err, you’re doing so well, princess! keep it up!" he’s jumping up and down like you won the world cup.

to say they were being supportive would probably be an understatement. nagi was definitely more patient with you, calmly going through the steps of whatever you couldn’t really figure out. but since reo was able to mask his own restlessness with overcompensating compliments, none of it ended up being too much for you. both of them were a massive help throughout it all.

and the moment you actually start getting into it, oooh, they totally lose it.

you dribble a little. maybe chase the ball across the grass faster without tripping. the pleats in your tiny skirt flutter with every movement, and they’re both just watching with hearts in their eyes. because this is essentially their two favourite things in the whole wide world. together. actually, that might be subjective with nagi because he’d probably throw his iphone into that mix.

also they definitely fight at least once or twice or maybe even a couple times over who gets to show or teach you something.

"i said i was gonna show her that, nagi." "mmm. too slow."

anyways, perhaps by sheer luck, or possibly fate, you actually manage to kick the ball hard enough to send it sailing straight into the goal. there’s a pause due to your own shock. before you’re throwing your hands up in ecstasy, as the thrill of victory, although barely earned, rushes through you.

"goal!” you gush, jumping up and down in the spot and almost tripping over thin air with the action.

and your boyfriends' don’t even try to be chill about it. reo let’s out a dramatic whoop, running forward before lifting you in the air. nagi trails behind, with a lazy smile on his mouth and his arms already open for the inevitable group hug.

"you did it, y/n." reo commends, and you can tell by his tone that he wasn’t actually expecting you to do it.

"mhm. that was fun." nagi adds, looking genuinely impressed by your effort.

you exhale sharply. "wow, i sounded like isagi just now, didn’t i? he’s such a good player. i don’t understand how he does this everyday with other people."

another moment of silence. oh, there’s that eyebrow twitch from reo again. "we are standing right here."

"ah, yeah. you guys are good players too." you bashfully add, moving to pull them both into a hug again. it’s sweaty but filled with love.

"you wanna go back inside now and take a celebratory nap?" nagi asks, a hopeful note in his tone.

"nope, let’s continue playing!" you chirp, before pulling away to go and grab the ball. the two boys exchange a look.

you continue playing to your hearts content. until it almost starts to border sunset, and you’re way too exhausted to move even another bone in your body. you’re panting wildly, flushed body pressed against the grass as you try to desperately catch your breath. your boyfriends' are all but tranquil as they move next to you on the grass.

"how are you two not dying?" you grunt.

reo shrugs, leaning back on his palms and spreading his legs out. "we kind of do this everyday."

"okay, but, you’ve barely even broken a sweat! you guys are something inhuman."

he chuckles before fixing you with that familiar cocky smile. "just saving my stamina for later, sweet girl."

you scoff, but the implication makes your face flare up anyway. sometimes, you hated reo and his effortless charm.

nagi plops down next to you. except he slides a little lower than usual, casually tugging your legs across his torso like it’s a weighted blanket he wishes to die beneath. "you’re cute when you try." he mumbles, arms locked around your thighs.

you’re too exhausted to react to the mildly patronising tone in his comment. you just groan and continue to melt into the grass.

until they begin inching closer. of course.

reo’s fingers suddenly brush through your messily strewn hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear. "you’ve earned a reward, you know. learning how to play so well. scoring that one goal."

you let out a laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "you’re too much."

"you love it." he hums, already leaning in.

it barely gives you time to register the little soft kisses that nagi is pressing just above your knee. dragging his lips up your thigh. you can barely make out the faint sound of his mumbling. "bet you’re still warm from running." he rasps. "let me taste."

hearing that alone almost makes you malfunction. you didn’t even get the chance to get out of your practice clothes before they’re suddenly pinning you down on the grass, mouths and hands on a mission.

"guys, wait, i’m like, all sweaty. everywhere. this is not—hot."

"says who?" reo challenges, already kissing down your throat. he zeroes in on your pulse point, which is still thrumming from the adrenaline of playing. and now something else entirely.

"says me." you weakly retort, but it seems like they have no shame in their game.

nagi hums, still tracing his mouth alarmingly close to a certain area. "hm. but you did so good."

"we just want to celebrate our little mvp." reo adds with a chuckle, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. if the almost hungry look in his eyes is anything to go.

you scramble for a sliver of dignity. "can i at least take a shower first?"

"no.” nagi whines, fingers reaching for your skirt. "i don’t want you to take this off yet. you look too pretty in it.” he mumbles. "like, too much."

your face burns at the compliment. nagi is so soft spoken to the point where everything he says sounds innocent. even if it’s not. especially when it’s not. that’s what makes it so dangerous. you squirm. "but i’m gross–"

that’s when reo grabs your wrists to press you flush against the grass completely. the choppy leaves dig into your skin; a silent order to stop the wriggling.

the glint in his eyes is almost animalistic, and when he murmurs it’s a strained sound. like he’s been holding this in for hours. "you think we care about that?"

you blink, breath suddenly caught in your throat. what kind of horny demon managed to simultaneously possess the both of them? sure, you knew that exercise was an incubator for endorphins. you also knew that your boyfriends' loved to ambush you with a tag-team. but something about this was different. it had to be their desperation.

your scrutinising gaze flickers between them. "literally what has gotten into you freaks?"

and then reo leans in, deciding to mercifully tell you the truth. his mouth is right at your ear, but the words are just loud enough for nagi to hear, too.

"this whole day all i could think about was having your legs over my shoulders." he exhales shakily. "with the cleats still on."

your heart stutters. and your brain blanks. your thighs twitch without your permission.

even nagi let’s out a guttural sound at the mental image. and that’s when it clicks. that’s why they’re acting like this. they’re being so borderline feral because this is something that has really got them going. like, this outfit. and you, playing soccer, in general. the whole shebang.

your suspicions are confirmed when reo continues. "watching you run around in that tiny skirt has been driving me crazy, too." his forehead is pressed to yours now, barely containing himself. "please."

your face goes scarlet at the pure yearning in his tone. they wanted you this badly? suddenly your brain feels foggy. and your willpower is surely slipping away.

"she’s shaking." nagi comments. "cute."

you let out mortified laugh, finally accepting your fate with a heart that’s beating way too fast for reasons completely unrelated to physical activity.

"i hate you both." you mumble in resignation.

five minutes later you’re making noises that probably say otherwise.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 3, Episode 7 - Fresh Blood

Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

Why in the fuck shit does my boyfriend have a goddamn ring in his glove compartment?

Does this motherfucker think I’m that stupid? ‘iTs FrOm A cAsE’ MY ASS.

My mind raced with the possibilities as to why Dean decided to feed me that bullshit of an excuse last week. I mean, we’ve been together what? 3 months? When in that period of time did he get to possibly purchase a ring? We’ve been joined at fucking asscheeks since then. Hell, we’ve been joined at asscheeks our whole lives.

Even when I ran away from home, we didn’t go a week without talking. Our conversations would range from “hey princess, your dad and i are coming up south so head back east” to “dude i miss you like crazy, might be in st. louis the rest of the week, team up?”

Holy shit, how did I not see he liked me before???

Besides the point, WHY THE FUCK DOES HE HAVE A GODDAMN RING?!?! I wanna ask, I wanna ask so fucking bad, but I might have to pry his cute little head open with a crowbar, reach in and get the answer out myself because my man is like a fucking Venus flytrap sometimes, which is funny seeing as he doesn’t know how to shut his cute stupid mouth.

God I love him.

WHY DOES HE HAVE AN ENGAGEMENT RING AHHHHHH!!!

This is what I ponder as I snuggle with my loving snoring bastard, my left hand tracing lines going up and down his spine to soothe his body. His head resting snug on my chest, lips parted and his mouth slightly agape with his left hand tucked away in my right boob, gripping it like a stress ball and his right hand tucked under his pillow, cradling his pistol.

This, everybody, is what dating Dean friggin’ Winchester looks like.

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Somewhere in the US

•One Week Later

Y/N furrowed her brows as she hung up the phone in the back of the Impala, her fathers machete and flashlight in one hand as she stuffed her phone into her pocket. “Who was that?” Sam asked curiously as he sharpened his machete in the passenger seat. “Bela. Called to say thanks for saving her” she scoffed, “Bela said thanks?” Sam asked surprised. “That cold bitch actually had a change of heart?” Dean chimed in from the driver's seat, stuffing his mouth with the last of his burger.

Y/N shrugged in response before sighing, “Guess people can change” she muttered but she was still unconvinced. Sam frowned before creasing his lips in a way to say, ‘I guess’ as Dean slurped his slushie. Sam fished out his phone to quickly text Jo. She parted ways with them a few days after the last hunt to track a pack of werewolves in Arizona.

‘Gonna hunt the sloppy vamp, track the nest and take ‘em out. Call you when it’s over’

A few seconds later, he got a reply, ‘Please careful, I love you’

Sam felt her last words pierce through his heart as his fingers lingered on the screen. He hated leaving her, he hated not knowing if she’s safe. But knowing she could take care of herself was what made him feel the slightest bit better. So instead, Sam smiled to himself before shooting her back a sweet text and turning his attention back to his Dean as he began to clean up his trash.

“You good, little brother?” Dean asked, noticing his silence as he twisted around to look at him. Sam nodded, forcing a small smirk. “I’m managing” He responded bluntly as Dean nodded in return. Y/N remained unfazed as she checked that her butterfly knife was still inside her boot.

“She’ll be fine, Sammy” Y/N assured him as she stuck her machete into the covering and then into her thigh holster. Sam exhaled deeply, his eyes glued to the window. “Yeah, I know” he muttered, fidgeting with the silver bracelet on his wrist his girlfriend gifted him as an early Christmas gift. It was well into November but she still got it for him in the case they didn’t get to see each other during Christmas.

-

A little later, the trio made their way down an alley, shining their flashlights about. Once bending the corner, they spotted a pool of blood. The three shared a look, cautious approaching it, only to find a man bleeding profusely on the floor, a bite wound to his neck. The man looked up at them with tired frightened eyes. “Please,” he begged hoarsely, “Please help me.”

They all jumped into action, crouching down over him. “Hey, hey. Don't worry. We're gonna call you some help, okay?” Sam assured the man as Y/N peeled off her leather jacket, handing it to Sam and then her dark grey flannel, pressing the soft material to the man’s wound as Dean shone his light around the alleyway. The alley seemed to go on and on, no sign of a vampire, she couldn’t have possibly gotten far if this poor sap was still alive.

“I don’t see anything,” Dean muttered as he stood. “There’s nothing around here” Y/N observed, placing her palm on the man’s cheek to elevate his head, “Sir, try to stay conscious, alright? An ambulance is on the way.” She said softly, he nodded weakly. “Where is she? Where'd she go?!” Dean asked the man a bit harshly, referring to the vampire they’d been tracking.

The dying man gestured down the alleyway to the opposite direction with a shaky, bloody hand. Dean followed his line of vision, seeing a long and creepy abandoned parking garage up ahead. “That way” he mumbled to himself and the others. Sam looked into the alleyway before looking at his older brother with a nod. A silent agreement between the three occurred in that split second, Sam and Y/N opting to stay with the man while Dean ran after the vamp.

“Be safe” Y/N said firmly to her boyfriend, fixing him a sharp warning look as she held the man’s head up. Written behind her eyes was, ‘Don’t do anything reckless’ He shot her a wink as he drew out his machete, headed down the alley. “Ditto. I love you”

Y/N continued holding the man up, making sure he was still conscious, she bit her lip as her worried eyes followed her boyfriend down the alley.

“Ditto” She mumbled to herself, feeling that maybe she should have gone with him instead of staying behind. Sam leaned in close to her. “He’ll be fine, it’s Dean” he assured her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, sensing her stress. She snapped out of her thoughts, nodding at his words. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about”

Sam instantly caught on, understanding what she meant. Dean grew more and more reckless as the days went on. The duo constantly in a pit of worry if this was the day Dean was gonna kick the bucket due to riling up the wrong person before his time, before they could save him.

Meanwhile, the air grew colder the further down the alley Dean went cautiously. He walked down the first row of cars when he noticed blood splattered across the graffiti on the walls, raising his machete once he met a dead end. His instincts told him that the vampire was still around, just hiding in plain sight.

Dean’s eyes darted constantly, expecting the vampire to jump out and attack him at any second, his flashlight pointing to every inch of the area. He suddenly stopped, tilting his head to hear the sound of something shuffling in the distance. He cautiously began walking towards the sound, gripping his machete a little tighter.

An idea popped in his head, he pulled up the sleeve of his leather jacket, leaving his forearm bare. He then brought the blade of the machete against it and slid it downwards. He grunted heavily in pain at the deep cut in his left arm. Blood oozed out of the clean cut, running down his arm and he held in a hiss, wincing a bit. Dean’s blood dripped to the concrete floor as he bellowed, “Smell that?! Come and get it!!”

A blonde young woman emerged from a side alley and stared at him, her chin covered in blood as she bared her fangs at him. “That's right. Come on.” Dean smirked “I smell good, don't I? I taste even better.” He lured her, using his words. She snarled, eyeing his machete cautiously. Dean held it up, a dark look in his eyes as he toyed with it between his fingers. With a smirk, he discarded it to the ground. The machete clattering.

The vampire’s eyes flickered between the blade and the hunter, trying to figure out if she should attack or not. “Come on! Free lunch!” he baited her further with a confident look, walking forward. The vampire lunged at Dean instantaneously, aiming for his neck with his fangs. She grabbed him by his shoulders and barely nicked his neck since he pulled out a syringe of dead man’s blood from his jacket, sticking the needle into her neck and emptying the contents into her veins.

The vampire stumbled off him with an outraged squeal, coughing and grasping her neck in horror, before collapsing onto the ground unconscious. Dean panted heavily, a look of sick excitement on his veins. “Whoo!” he exclaimed, his blood pumping. Sam and Y/N came running in, stumbling upon Dean and the girl. The duo looked down at the unconscious vampire and back up at Dean, the younger Winchester frowning at his brother while Y/N looked at Dean with utter distaste.

The oldest of the trio rolled his shoulders, looking at the two with a cocky smirk on his face. “What?” he asked before being met with two pairs of disapproving eyes. “Cutting it a little close, don't you think?” Sam’s worried voice started but Dean waved it off. “Ah ... that's just chum in the water. Worked, didn't it?” He assured them, clutching his arm. “Yeah.” Y/N agreed, but her voice was harsh, like she was scolding him.

She wanted to scream at him but now was not the time, so she marched over to him and took his wounded arm into her hands. “Nothin’ a little bit of your healing balm can’t fix, right?” He smirked. Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line, giving him a flat look as he chuckled at her and Sam’s expressions. They were not amused, in fact they looked both irritated and frustrated with him.

-

The next day, the three were in their motel room. A bit dingier than what they would usually occupy, the walls of the room were lined up with old mattresses, blocking any external sunlight. The young vampire, whose face was still covered with blood, was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Sam, Dean and Y/N stood over her chair. She was still unconscious but stirring as it looked like she was going to wake up soon. Her limbs were bound to the arms of the chair, her ankles tied to the legs.

Y/N had a cup of cold water, drinking from it while Dean and Sam stood in front of her, looking at the vampire with stern faces as she started to wake up. They heard her groan in pain. Her eyes fluttered as she struggled to open them. Y/N grew tired waiting and tossed the water into the vamp’s face. Dean and Sam snickered in amusement as the vampire woke up with a gasp, her head shooting up.

The water ran down her skin as she looked up at the three with surprised eyes. “You with us, sweetheart?” Y/N quipped harshly, leaning down towards her. The vampire flinched back, now realizing she was tied up, groaning as she tried to flail around to free herself but there was no use. “Oh, yeah, sorry. You're not going anywhere.” Dean added with a smirk. “Wha-” She gasped in fear, struggling.

“Where's your nest?” Sam demanded in a stiff tone. The vampire looked up at Sam in pure confusion, “What?” She said again, panting. “Your nest! Where you and your bloodsucking pals hang out.” Dean demanded also as Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “I don't know what you're talking about. Please! I don't feel good.” The vampire pleaded genuinely. The trio shared unconvinced and tired looks, rolling their eyes simultaneously.

Y/N took out a syringe from her jacket, handing it to her boyfriend. “Yeah, well, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of dead man's blood.” Dean said with a smirk, taking the syringe and twirling it between his fingers. The vampire physically recoiled, shaking her head. “Just let me go,” she pleaded. Sam scoffed a laugh, “Yeah, you know we can’t do that” He chuckled. “I’m telling you the truth. I'm just... I took something. I'm freaking out! I don't know what's going on!”

The three furrowed their brows, confused. They didn’t know if the vampire was just a good actress or genuinely not aware. Y/N refused to believe it, going against her better instincts. Wanting to stick with the fact that all vampires are scum. “We’re not letting you go,” Y/N stated firmly. The vampire's eyes were blown wide, now looking desperate. “Please just- you gotta help me.” She pleaded. “You took something?” Sam asked, circling her chair as Dean placed the syringe down on the table.

“Yes! I can't... come down. I just want to come down.” The vampire freaked out, genuine fear in her eyes. Okay, maybe she was telling the truth. Y/N thought to herself as she and Sam shared a weary look. “What’s your name?” Y/N asked, propping herself on the table besides Dean. “Lucy. Please. Just let me go.” The vampire answered, begging. “All right, Lucy, how about this? If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go.” Sam proposed as he leaned down, Dean and Y/N’s eyes shot over to Sam with eyes that said, ‘The fuck you mean let her go?’

“You will?” Lucy asked hopefully, looking over at the couple, Dean nodding and smiling in a completely insincere way. Y/N gulped down her guilt at the false hope they just gave her, knowing they couldn’t possibly let this vampire go as she rolled her head to the side and cracked her neck. The couple shot Sam a confused look over Lucy’s head as she tried to piece the event together. “Uh, I don't really... um, it's, it's not that clear. Uh, I was at Spider.”

“Spider?” Y/N asked, raising a brow. “The club, on Jefferson. And there was this guy... he was buying me drinks.” Lucy clarified. “This guy... what's he look like?” Sam asked as he pulled a chair, straddling it. “Uh…He was old, like thirty….” Lucy shook her head as she tried to remember. The trio nearly flinched at the way Lucy said ‘thirty’ was ‘old’ all of them quite literally nearing their thirties. “He had brown hair, a leather jacket... uh, Deacon or Dixon or something. Said he was a dealer... he had something for me.”

“Something?” Dean asked, moving from beside his girlfriend to circle the chair. “Something new. "Better than anything you've ever tried." He put a few drops in my drink.” The pieces began to come together in their heads, glancing at each other once more before Y/N asked, “Was the drug red and thick?” Lucy nodded shakily. Dean clapped his tongue, “Well, genius move there.” shooting his baby brother a look, the younger Winchester shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was vampire blood he dosed you with.” Dean stated, looking back down at the vampire, who’s head snapped over to Dean. “What?!” Her eyes filled with bewilderment. “Yeah, you just took a big steamin' shot of the nastiest virus out there.” Dean mused, “You're crazy! He gave me roofies or something!” Lucy denied it as Dean pursed his lips. Her head shot back over to Sam and Y/N. “No... The next thing I know, we're at his place, and he says he's gonna get me something to eat, just wait.”

The two looked at her with sympathy, their hearts giving for this poor unsuspecting girl. “But I get so hungry.” Lucy emphasized, her eyes filled with tears. “So you busted out?” Sam asked knowingly. “But it won't wear off... whatever he gave me?” Lucy nodded. “Lights are too bright? Sunshine hurt your skin?” Y/N asked knowingly, trying to push aside her sympathy, reminding herself that Lucy was still a literal monster who killed innocent people because of her urges. “Yeah... And smells. And I can... hear blood pumping!” Lucy cried.

“Well, I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your blood's never pumping again.” Dean stated as he moved back around her chair, standing beside Y/N. Lucy shook her head, “Not mine... yours. I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop.” That was enough for Sam and Y/N, the latter unable to swallow her sympathy any longer. The pure desperation in Lucy’s voice broke their hearts.

“All right, listen, Wavy Gravy.” Dean began sharply, leaning down to speak to Lucy, propping his hands on his knees. “It's not going to stop. You've already killed two people, almost three.” He informed her, Lucy began sobbing even more, shaking her head relentlessly. “No, I couldn't. No-! I was hallucinating!” Y/N tore her eyes away from Lucy, the internal battle between monster and innocent victim riding her conscious. “You killed them, all right? We've been following a sloppy trail of corpses, and it leads straight to you.” Y/N stated firmly.

“No. No, it wasn't real! It was the drug! Please! Please, you have to help me!” Lucy panted with them desperately. Sam glanced over at his brother and best friend, jerking his head in indication for them to step out of the room. The three walked out of the room, leaving the door open and an inconsolable Lucy tied to the chair.

Sam shook his head, “Poor girl” he sighed. “This is insane.” Y/N muttered, rubbing her forehead and her hand over her mouth. “We don’t have a choice” Dean said to them, him and his brother glancing over at the vampire. Sam sighed, shaking his head. He couldn’t bring himself to kill this girl himself but she had to die or else more lives would be at risk. Y/N felt bad too, but she knew it had to be done.

The look of absolute helplessness on Lucy’s face was tragic, but the fact that she killed two people was unforgivable. She could almost hear her father in her head, ‘She’s a monster. A victim too but she’s a danger’ not to mention, a goddamn vampire took him from this earth too soon. Her eyes darkened in Lucy’s direction as Dean took his machete out of his jacket, he opted to do it when he saw the defeated look on his brother’s face.

“I’ll do it” She suddenly said, stopping Dean by gently gripping his bicep. The brothers looked at her with surprise, not expecting her to offer. “You sure?” Dean murmured as Y/N nodded firmly in response. She stepped into the room, glaring at Lucy while the battle in her head continued. The vampire looked at her with hope she was going to untie her, the hope diminishing when the Hunter took out her father’s machete from her thigh holster.

“No…please!” Lucy pleaded with her. Y/N gripped the machete tightly, her eyes hardening, no longer seeing the girl but rather the monster in the chair. She drew her arm back, flicking the machete. The brothers looked on as Lucy’s screams filled the room, their hearts filling heavy in their chest. Dean’s face remained expressionless but the look in Y/N’s eyes were dark, unblinking and cold when she took off the vampire’s head with one fell swoop. Sam flinched and grimaced as Lucy’s head fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

-

Later that night, the trio exited a crowded club with neon red lights named Spider, the one Lucy told them about. All looking equally frustrated. “That was a big, fat waste of time.” Dean grumbled as they entered the crowded area with people drinking. “Look, three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy, all last sighted here. I'm telling you, guys, this is the hunting ground.” Sam stated, Y/N clutched her jacket to her chest at the mention of Lucy. She had to remind herself that what she did was right, although the sick feeling she got when she killed her didn’t feel so.

While Sam spoke, across the way, Dean spotted a 30-something man duck into an alley with his arm around a young blonde. “Hey” he pointed them out to Sam and Y/N. They watched them disappear into the dark alley, the trio following them. When they got into the alley, they spotted the guy with his hands on the woman, her blonde hair falling down her back as he lifted a dropper filled with red liquid to her tongue. Y/N’s eyes widened, “Oh no, this ain't good.” Dean said as they hurried over to them.

Before any could drop to her tongue, Dean snatched the man’s arm. Pulls it down and then clocks him in his face. Y/N and Sam quickly grabbed the terrified girl, “Get out of here, sweetie. Go! Go!” Y/N urged her. The girl nodded, stumbling over her feet as she ran down the alley back to the club for safety. Y/N and Sam turned their attention over to Dean, who was now getting hurled into the wall by the vampire before he ran for his life.

“Dean!” “Charming!” Sam and Y/N rushed over to help Dean up. “I'm good. Come on.” Dean assumed them, groaning in the process. They nodded hesitantly and took off after the vampire, as they hurtled around the corner, the vampire was nowhere in sight. But facing them, guns at their sides, familiar faces they didn’t want to see at all at this time. Gordon Walker and his friend Kubrick.

The trio were startled, almost freezing in their path until Gordon and Kubrick advanced toward them, guns raised. Both firing freely. Instantly, they dove behind parked cars, shielding their heads, windows shattering in the process and bullets whizzed past. They managed to avoid getting shot entirely, now crouching behind a wall, panting. “Fuck,” Y/N cursed under her breath, cursing herself for not bringing her gun. The one time she doesn’t bring a gun because it was a vamp case, they get shot at.

Dean peered beside the wall to see Gordon and Kubrick reloading, resuming their guns at them. “All right. Run. I'll draw them off.” Dean grunted, pushing himself forward. Sam and Y/N’s eyes widened with fear and bewilderment, “What?! No, you’re crazy!” Sam shouted, “Are you a fucking idiot?!” Y/N screamed at the same time. Their words went into one ear and out the next.

Dean darted out into the line of fire, leapt on top of a car, luckily dodging bullets as they whizzed past him in the process and used it to get over a second-story parking lot entrance. “God damn it, Dean!” Y/N cursed, her heart beating out of her chest and her eyes glued to her boyfriend as he ran. Kubrick followed him as Gordon stayed behind and slowly crept to the corner where Sam and Y/N were hiding.

Luckily, they were gone by the time he rounded the corner when a figure leapt down on him from above, sending him sprawling, the figure revealing to be the vampire from earlier. He kicked Gordon in the face repeatedly and knocked him unconscious.

-

Couple hours later, Sam and Y/N were in their motel room. The younger Winchester pacing the room nervously, biting his nails as Y/N called Dean’s phone numerous times. Both their nerves were getting the worst of them, “Goddamn, Dean!” Y/N cursed as she tossed her phone onto one of the dingy mattresses, bringing her nearly burnt out cigarette to her lips.

Sam began biting his nails more, his face taut with worry. “He’s been gone for hours, Y/N. And his phone is going straight to voicemail.” Sam pointed out. Y/N quickly crushed her cigarette into the ashtray, padding over to Sam to snatch his fingers out of his mouth. “Quit biting your nails, dude. Before it goes down to the stub” She scolded, pointing a firm finger at him.

Sam sheepishly pulled his hand back, running a hand through his hair, “You’re worried too..Y/N. I know you are.” He observed, noticing the nervous tremble in her chin. “Of course I am..” Y/N admitted weakly. The two remained in an awkward and tense silence, the sound of their heartbeats drumming against their chest.

Suddenly, the motel room door opened and in walked an unconcerned and casual Dean with a pizza box in his hand. Their heads snapped in his direction, a look of relief washing over their faces. “There you are!” Sam exclaimed like a parent that had been up all night waiting for their kid past their curfew. “Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice.” Dean chuckled, patting his stomach. He handed a fuming Y/N the box and a bag with a chocolate cookie before peeling off his jacket.

She couldn’t care less about her favorite dessert right now, more pissed at the reckless move Dean pulled. “Nice move you pulled back there, Dean running right at the weapons!” His girlfriend hissed, nearly tossing the pizza box down onto the coffee table as placing the bag with the cookie on top of it. “Well, what can I say? I'm a bad-ass.” Dean smirked, turning to face them. Sam glared daggers at his brother's head due to his witty remark, the elder Winchester ignoring their genuine concern. “So, I guess Gordon's out of jail.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. You know, how the hell did he know where to find us?” Sam wondered out loud. Dean shrugged, not knowing as the wheels began to turn in Y/N’s head. “That bitch.” She seethed as she pulled out her cell phone, now remembering her little phone call with Bela included the slimy thief asking them their location. How could she have been so stupid?

Sam and Dean looked at her with confusion, “What? What's up?” Sam asked her as she began dialing Bela on her phone. “The location... I know how Gordon found us.” Y/N grumbled, bringing her phone to her ear, waiting for Bela to pick up. “Hi, Bela.” The psychic snapped as soon as the phone was answered. “Hello, Y/N” Bela answered casually with a smile as she drove. Y/N gritted her teeth as she put the phone on speaker, the boys listening in on the conversation.

“Question for you. When you called me yesterday, it wasn't to thank us for saving your ass, was it?” Y/N called her out immediately. “No. Gordon Walker paid me to tell him where you were.” Bela replied frankly and unabashed. “Excuse me?” Dean snapped, his face contorting with disgust. “Well, he had a gun on me. What else was I supposed to do?” Bela laughed as if it was obvious. This made Y/N’s blood boil, “I don't know, maybe pick up the fuckin’ phone and tell us that a raging psychopath was dropping by?!?” Her voice held pure anger.

“Ah. I did fully intend to call, I just got a bit sidetracked.” Bela responded simply, “He tried to kill us!” Dean shouted. Bela rolled her eyes unapologetically. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was such a big deal. After all, there are three of you and one of him.” She replied. “There were two of em’ you selfish bitch!” Y/N shouted, Bela’s face fell, now realizing what her actions caused. “Oh” she muttered, she went to make a witty remark but Y/N’s deathly tone caught her off guard as she took the phone off of the speaker and pressed it to her ear.

“Bela, if we make it out of this alive. So god help me, the first thing I'm gonna do is kill you.” The psychic promised, “You’re not serious” Bela scoffed, trying to maintain Y/N’s bluff but she wasn’t whatsoever. “Listen to my voice and tell me if I'm serious.” Bela gulped harshly, her grip on her phone tightening. She could tell Y/N meant every single word of what she said, making a chill run through her veins. Her eyes flickered on and off the road as she exhaled roughly and the line went dead.

-

Dean was now sharpening his machete on a whetstone next to Y/N, who was doing the same thing with her father’s machete as Sam cleaned his gun. All three hunters wore grim expressions, “That vampire's still out there, guys.” Sam voiced his concerns, “First things first.” Dean began, nodding his head. “Gordon” Y/N stated, tucking her machete into her thigh holster. “About that. When we find him, or if he finds us…” Dean said, shooting looks at the younger hunters. “Yeah?” Sam and Y/N said in unison.

“Well I'm just saying he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.” Dean stated, Y/N nodded firmly, understanding where he’s getting at. “Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him.” Sam stated calmly. This shocked the couple, “Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like- wait, no. Y/N does it better than me, hit it sweetheart” He pointed over to his girlfriend, earning an amused snort from her and an eye roll from his brother. “No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong” Y/N marveled in a mock-whiny tone, mimicking Sam.

Dean snorted in amusement, earning himself an elbow to his ribs from Sam. “Shut up.” He muttered weakly as a smirk curled across Y/N's face. Sam sighed deeply and rubbed his temples, “It feels like we’ve been down this road before.” He pointed out. “What do you mean?” Dean questioned, dropping his smirk. “I mean, I'm done, Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is.” Sam pointed out, Dean and Y/N looked proud of him. Both sharing a look. Then, y/n’s phone rang. Hoping for it to be Jo, she pulled it out of her pocket.

Instead, she scowled as she placed it to her ear. “What?!” She hissed at Bela, “I don't like it when people hold grudges against me, and more to the point, I'd rather you didn't kill me, so I went ahead and found Gordon's exact location for you.” Bela’s slightly nervous tone piped up through the other line as Dean and Sam looked at the psychic curiously. Y/N’s brows furrowed, “You're a hundred miles away. How the fuck did you-?” but Bela cut her off.

“Hello? Purveyor of powerful occult objects? I used a talking board to contact the other side.” Bela answered. “And?” Y/N demanded, “Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside.” Bela replied, “Thanks” Y/N muttered sarcastically. “One more thing. The spirit had a message for you. "Leave town, run like hell, and whatever you do, don't go after Gordon." For whatever that's worth.”

Y/N took the phone off of her ear, a thoughtful look crossing her face as she glanced over to the Winchesters. The brothers wore looks that said, ‘So??? What’d she say?’ Y/N took a deep breath, “Bela said she used a spirit board to find Gordon’s location, there's a warehouse near a river. She also said one of the spirits she contacted had a message for us to just run and not go after Gordon.” She explained.

Sam and Dean's faces were now confused, more so Dean than Sam, “Why would a spirit warn us not to go after him?” He asked curiously. “No idea, probably some demon trying to screw us over.” Y/N muttered as she tossed her phone on the table.

____________________________________________

Despite Bela’s warnings from the spirits, the trio found themselves at the warehouse she directed them to. This time, armed to the T. Sam took the lead, creeping down the steps into the room where Gordon was previously held. Y/N was right behind him, luring over his shoulder as Dean crept down behind them. All three hunters cocked their guns, the elder Winchester holding a flashlight to aid in their path.

Upon further investigation, they stumble onto the bodies of the girls who are hanging from their wrists by chains bound to the ceiling. Their corpses headless, and the vampire they tussled with earlier was kneeling in front of them, tears running down his face. Dean nudged Sam on his hand, pointing to a knife on one of the tables. Sam glanced over to his brother, nodding in agreement. He then glanced over to Y/N who also nodded firmly. So slowly, he crept over and swiped up the knife from the table before sticking his gun into the back of his jeans.

He began to approach the bloodsucker with caution. The monster heard Dean coming but didn't move an inch. “Go ahead. Do it. KILL me.” Dixon, the vampire’s voice quivered. The trio shared a surprised glance, keeping their caution and distance. “What happened here?” Sam demanded as he and y/n’s grips tightened on their guns. “Gordon.Walker.” The vampire gritted his teeth, “I never should have brought a hunter here. Never. I just…” He sobbed as he pushed himself to his feet, turning to face the hunters.

Dean instinctively shoved Y/N behind him, placing himself in front of his little brother at the same time. His both arms shielding the two as they held their guns in Dixon’s direction, Dean’s right hand wielding the large knife. “I just wanted some kind of revenge. So stupid... exposing him to my family.” Dixon’s tear stained face crumpled up with grief as the three looked at the monster with disgust. “Oh, yeah, you're such a family man.” Y/N scoffed sarcastically, no kind of remorse directed to the bloodsucker.

Y/N grabbed Sam gently by the sleeve of his jacket, shoving the oaf behind her to shield him with her free hand and slowly crept around the monster keeping him behind her as Dean stood near the entrance, glaring at the monster with his knife ready to use. “You don't understand.” Dixon gulped as Sam and Y/N made their way to the headless corpses, “We don't want to understand, you sick son of-” Dean growled.

“ was desperate! You ever felt desperate?” Dixon defended, beginning to circle them. Dean clenched his jaw as he paced around to meet with Sam and Y/N. “I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?” Dean refused to allow himself to relate to Dixon’s words, wanting nothing in common with a monster like him. “Well, there’s hell” Dean stated matter of factly, blinking rapidly. “I wasn't thinking. I just ... I didn't care anymore. Do you know it's like when you just don't give a damn?”

Dixon took a step closer to Dean, the Hunter raising his knife instinctively as Sam and Y/N checked the bodies. “It's like ... it's like being dead already. So just go ahead.” Dixon glanced down at Dean’s knife, “Do it” He urged him. Sam and Y/N shared a startled look, their breaths hitching in their throats. “Babe.” Y/N called out to Dean urgently, his gaze snapped over to hers immediately. “Head wasn't cut off, it was ripped off. With someone's bare hands.” She told him, her tone wavering as she glared back over to Dixon simultaneously with the boys.

“Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?” Sam demanded, Dixon didn’t answer. His face crumpled up again as he began to sob once more. This indicated their worst fears. Their hearts plummeted in their chests as they shared bewildered looks. Dixon had turned Gordon Walker into a vampire. Of fucking course.

-

Daylight finally hit, the trio running on little to no sleep. Sam and Y/N ended up back at the motel while Dean was still scouting for anywhere Gordon could be. Y/N sat by the table across from Sam, the palm of her hand resting against her cheek, propping it up on the table as her tired and heavy eyes fluttered shut. A slight snoring sound coming from her mouth.

Sam snorted a little in amusement at the way her mouth hung open, the tiny snores leaving her mouth reminded him of a grandma. He gently kicked her chair but she didn’t budge so he kicked it harder a second time. “Wake your ass up, sleeping beast” Y/N’s eyes sprung open, jolting as she tried to sit up straight. Her tired eyes fluttered as she glared at Sam, rubbing the exhaustion out her eyes. “Why’d you kick my chair?” She mumbled, running a hand over her face. “You were snoring,” Sam replied bluntly.

She scowled at her best friend in return, “Dipshit” Sam rolled his eyes at her again, “Pardon me for not enjoying the little symphony that you were having from your snoring, crackhead” He replied sarcastically. “Shut up” She muttered, flipping him the bird. He chuckled, shaking his head softly as Y/N stretched once more. “Wake me up when Dean gets back” She muttered before folding her arms up to rest her head into the crease in the table.

Sam went back to reading in one of the many maps that covered the table while Y/N slept on the other end. She was passed clean out, even his occasional movements didn’t seem to phase her. It was only after about an hour and a half, Dean finally entered the room, frustrated as he removed his jacket. “Man, I must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses” Dean complained, “Yeah, us too” Sam replied, sighing deeply.

He nodded in response as he looked down at Y/N’s knocked out form lying with her chin laid down on her arms. He was tempted to walk over and mess with her when he saw the dark circles under her eyes, the exhaustion was showing on her face. He approached her slowly, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, princess. Hey, wake up” He called to her gently. This snapped her out of her unconscious state, jolting awake. She looked up to meet his gaze, looking like a confused deer.

The fatigue was still evident on her face as she sat up straight. Dean’s hand moved from her shoulder to her chin, tilting her head up to get a better look at her. “You’re back” She said groggily, a small sleepy smile making its way to her face. Her eyes were glossed over, struggling to focus on his face as he gently spoke to her. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s wash your face” She was too tired to protest even if she wanted to, reluctantly allowing her boyfriend to lead her to the restroom. Sam frowned with concern as he watched Dean take Y/N’s sleepy form to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, Dean pulled out a small and clean wash rag from Y/N’s duffel, wetting it with water from the tap. With a careful and gentle grip, he grabbed her chin once more, beginning to gently dab away the tiredness from her face. She remained quiet, relishing in this tender moment with Dean as she closed her eyes and tried to suppress a tired yawn. “You’re exhausted” He pointed out, his face soft as he began to carefully remove Y/N’s smudged mascara.

“I’m fine” She waved it off, shaking her head as she bit back another yawn. “Bullshit” He retorted, moving over to her other eye. “You look like you’re gonna collapse any minute now. And you were snoring so loud it could’ve woken the dead” He chuckled gently. She chuckled weakly, “You love my snores” She retorted. “Mhm, that’s why I’m gonna stuff a sock in your mouth the next time I catch it hanging open” He teased, gently wiping the rest of her makeup from her cheek.

“Mmm why don’t you stuff something else in and we’ll call it even” She winked, gasping playfully when Dean smacked her thigh after dropping the rag in the sink. “You’re not too tired to use that smartass mouth of yours, huh?” He shook his head with an amused smirk. She shook her head as she smiled cheekily, hooking her arms around his neck as Dean leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on her parted lips.

It lasted for a good few seconds, her eyes fluttering shut and enjoying the way those rough, but soft lips felt against her own. When the moment came to an end, they pulled away but their faces remained an inch from the other. “How’d the looking go?” She asked, placing her hands on his chest, going back to the case. Dean scoffed, shaking his head as he took her hand into his, leading her out of the bathroom. “It's like a giant haystack, and Gordon's a deadly needle.” He told both her and Sam.

“And we’re running out of daylight. Won't have the sun slowing him down.” Y/N muttered, rubbing her eyes, “Yeah, he'll be unstoppable.” Sam sighed in agreement as they nodded. “Hey, uh, give me your phones” Sam suddenly said to them, “What for?” Dean and Y/N asked in unison as they took out their phones and placed it on the table next to Sam. “Well, if Gordon knows our cell numbers he can use the cell signal to track us down.” Sam explained as he began taking out their SIM cards.

“Oh, yeah. Nice. Thanks” Dean snorted with a nod. “Yeah” Sam responded, before dropping all three phones to the ground and stomping on them with the heel of his combat shoes as Dean walked over to the curtain. He peered through them for a second before walking back over to his duffel bag. “Sammy, Y/N/N, stay here.” He instructed the younger hunters. “What? Where you going now?” Sam asked confused as Y/N’s brows furrowed. Dean then pulled out the Colt from his bag and a case with bullets. “I'm going after Gordon.” Dean stated matter of factly.

Y/N’s jaw dropped, “What?!” She damn near yelled, “Don’t raise that tone with me, sweetheart. You heard me” Dean shot back, trying not to escalate the situation as he loaded up the Colt. Y/N’s eye twitched, clenching her jaw to stop herself from reaching over and smacking the taste out of her boyfriend’s mouth for doing the most reckless shit possible. She glanced over to Sam, pleading with her eyes to say something but he beat her to the jump. “Not alone, you’re not” Sam argued.

Dean scoffed as he cocked the Colt. “Sam, Y/N. You’re not my parents, okay? I don't need you to sign me a permission slip. He's after you two, not me, and he's turbocharged. I want you guys to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it.” Dean responded dismissively. “Charming, you're not going by yourself. You're gonna get yourself killed!” Y/N argued, Dean went to smart mouth her before she pointed at him firmly, “Don’t you dare tell me to ‘don’t raise that tone’ asshole, you know we’re right”

“Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office” Dean shrugged, smirking before smiling cheekily. Sam had enough at this point, “So you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, it's because you're already dead, right?” Sam mocked Dean’s self righteous words, “If the shoe fits” Dean shrugged once more, Y/N shook her head. Her hands rested on her hips as she tore her eyes away from her boyfriend. That gaping hole in her chest returned as she tried to swallow down her guilt.

“You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip. You’re constantly guilting Y/N without realizing it and you’re being a dick!” Sam snapped, “Whoa, whoa, kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja.” Dean mused, shooting Y/N a wink, “That’s not funny” Y/N hissed, “It’s a little funny” He smirked in return, “No, it’s not” Sam retorted, “Whatever. And I’m not guilting Y/N, where the fuck did you get that from?” Dean argued.

“Every single time you say that bullshit, don’t you think it hurts her, you jackass!?” Sam got in his brother’s face, Y/N’s eyes widened, instantly placing herself between the two. “Whoa, okay! Fellas, enough” She snapped, her arms splayed out to keep them a safe distance away from one another. Sam’s nostrils flared in anger as he glared over Y/N’s shoulder at his brother who stared back at him with equal venom.

“I’m not guilting anyone! Am I? Am I guilting you, sweetheart?” Y/N’s face remained stone cold, “Don’t sweetheart me right now, Dean. You’re being difficult!” Dean’s face fell. “Me!? I’m being difficult?!” He gaped, pointing to himself. “YES!!” Sam and Y/N shouted in unison as if it was obvious. Dean placed the Colt onto the table. “What do you guys want me to do, huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die?” He argued sarcastically as he picked up a pen and paper from the table.

“You know what? I got one. Let's see, what rhymes with ‘shut up, Sam and Y/N’?” Y/N smacked the pen and paper out of her boyfriend’s hands harshly. “Dude” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Seriously, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid” Sam fumed. “I’m not.” Dean denied firmly, Y/N placed her hand to her forehead at her terrible lying. Shaking her head. “You’re lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.” Sam called him out on his bullshit.

“You got no idea what you're talking about.” Dean scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to hide his pain with a smile. Pacing away from the two, his back now turned to them. “Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.” Sam’s words scared the shit out of Dean, he’d been trying to hold himself together. He tried to seem strong infront of his little brother but it didn’t seem to work. Everything Y/N was telling him, reminding him that Sam wasn’t an idiot and the whole ‘macho man’ bullshit facade wasn’t gonna work.

He glanced over to Y/N nervously who held a look that said, ‘I told you so’, her arms crossed over her chest. “And how do you know that?” Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Because I know you!” Sam exclaimed. “Really?!” Dean retorted, “Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life!” Dean’s heart sank in his chest. “I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world.” Sam’s voice held pure emotion and admiration as Dean’s gaze fell to the floor.

Y/N stood silently with her eyes glued to Dean’s back, her throat was tight. She could feel the pure vulnerability and desperation hanging off of Sam. “And this-” Sam’s words got stuck in his throat. “-is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just…” Sam paused, tearing his eyes away from his brother as his tone wavered. “What?” Dean’s voice broke the silence as he finally looked at his little brother.

However, Sam’s eyes snapped over to Y/N, pleading with her to take over. The unshed tears glistened in his eyes as he tried desperately not to break down in tears right there and then.

Y/N inhaled a shaky breath as her gaze fell back over to the eldest hunter who now shared the same scared and vulnerable look. She rubbed at her nose, a sign that she was trying to compose herself, trying not to let her own emotions get the best of her. “Sam just wants you to drop the show and be his brother again. Because he loves you…we love you”

Once Dean got a proper look at the two, looking like kicked puppies, their lips quivering as they clawed to hold back their tears. His gaze softened, looking down as he scratched the side of his head, “Alright, we’ll hole up” He obliged, “We’ll cover our scent so he can't track us, and wait the night out here.” Y/N and Sam nodded, “Okay” Y/N whispered, “I’m gonna go uh-” Sam cleared his throat, pointing to the door.

“-get the stuff for the sage. It’s in the trunk” Y/N patted his shoulder, understanding that he needed some time alone to get his cry out before he can face his brother again. Sam smiled gratefully at Y/N before making a beeline for the door, picking up Dean’s keys from the table in the process. Dean went back over to the table to pick up the Colt once more as the door shut and Y/N as she wiped at her eyes, taking a seat in the chair near the table.

“Baby,” He called softly. She didn’t look up to meet his gaze so he knelt beside her and placed a hand on her knee, he gently touched her chin. “Look at me,” He murmured. She inhaled a shaky breath, before lifting her head. “Yeah?” She looked up weakly. Dean’s heart shattered at her puffy eyes. He grabbed both of her hands, pulling her up from the chair, to stand to her feet and bringing them chest to chest.

“I’m sorry” He whispered as he pulled her into his chest and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. He sat back down onto one of the chairs and gently pulled her onto his lap, “I’m not the only one that needs to hear that” She croaked, gesturing to the door. “I know” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his chin on her shoulder as she curled into him. Her own arms wrapped around his neck, toying with his amulet.

“Don’t you dare say I told you so” Dean murmured. Y/N scoffed, “I wasn’t going to” she murmured into his neck, inhaling his scent, “At least not verbally” He smirked a little, “I know what you were thinking, smart ass” He chuckled, lightly pinching her side. Y/N smiled to herself, feeling his rough fingers against her waist, “I’m your smartass”

“That you are” He agreed, tilting her head to the side, giving him easy access to her neck. His lips planted kisses to her exposed skin as her jaw went slack, and a soft gasp escaped her. “I’m gonna go check on Sam- make sure he got the right stuff for the sage” She cleared her throat, peeling herself away from Dean. He groaned playfully, “Why can’t you stay here and kiss me instead?” He protested, trying to pull her back to his lap.

“Because we’ve got a turbo charged Gordon trying to kill us. But you’ll get all the kisses you want after we kill the bastard” She quipped back, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pacing over to the door. Dean grumbled, annoyed by her words and the fact that she was right, as he stood up from the chair and got to work barricading the place. Y/N gave him a cheeky smile before slipping out of the motel room, shutting the door behind her.

In the parking lot, across the way, she spotted Sam near the trunk with his face buried in his hands. Her smile faded almost instantly, realizing he was crying. Y/N’s shoulders sagged at the sight. She quietly made her way over to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Sammy?” She spoke softly. He tilted his head down to meet her eyes, and she felt her heart drop, his eyes were red and filled to the brim with tears.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and he broke into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Y/N held him close, rubbing his back as she tried to soothe him. He held on tightly, afraid to let go. For the first time in a while, he let himself be vulnerable, and she held him, letting him take as much time as he needed to get it all out. “I-I j-just-” He blubbered into her shoulder as his hands gripped onto the back of her shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay sweetie, just let it out” She shushed him softly like a mother comforting her child.

His hands gripped her harder, trying to ground himself. He inhaled a few breaths before pulling away reluctantly. “I’m fine” he said, trying to suck it all up, but of course, Y/N was having none of it. “Don’t you go pulling the macho man act with me now, little Winchester” She said firmly with no room for argument as she pointed a firm finger at her surrogate brother.

Sam hung his head sheepishly, “Sorry” was the only thing he could manage to say. “Don’t be sorry, just don’t push down your emotions again, ‘kay?” She spoke with a firm but gentle tone. He nodded, looking over to the trunk, “Grab the sage?” Y/N asked. He nodded, wiping away his tears. He reached for the sage, handing the bundle to her. “Thanks, how do I look?” He asked as they made their way back towards the motel.

She smirked at the stupid question, “Like you’ve been crying your eyes out, dumbass” Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. “If you tell Dean about that, so god help me, I will tell him about that time you stole the Impala and snuck out to see Xander” Sam half-threatened, his red puffy eyes narrowed at her. Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked up at him in shock, “You said you would never bring that up again!” She groaned, shoving Sam playfully.

The two entered the motel room once more, Dean glanced over to them with curious eyes. “What?” Dean asked with a cocked brow. “Nothing” Sam and Y/N suddenly said in unison. Dean raised his brows at them once more but decided not to press on it, shaking his head and dismissing it as the two dorks and their childish ‘inside jokes’ they always had. Once Dean had his back to them, Y/N shot Sam a warning look, her eyes widened, signaling him not to say anything.

-

Hours passed and it was nearing sundown, Dean was leaning back on one of the beds they had laying in the ground. His machete in one hand and his sleepy girlfriend wrapped up in his other. Y/N’s dominant hand gripped her own machete while Sam peered at the curtains. Dean’s fingertips danced along her back tracing patterns into her shirt mindlessly, his eyes fluttering open and shut. He tried to keep himself awake but he was struggling.

His body was exhausted and Y/N was not helping his case, her warm form snuggling into him, her head resting on his chest made it very hard for him to keep his tiredness at bay. The tiredness shot out of his body when his new phone suddenly rang, causing Sam to get startled from his position by the window and Y/N to jump awake. The hunters looked to one another nervously, Dean was quick to reach into his pocket. “You've had that phone two hours, Dean. Who'd you give the number to?” Sam asked, “Nobody” Dean answered.

He frowned as he answered, putting the phone to his ear, “Hello?” He asked, his tone cautious. “Dean” Gordon’s voice came through the phone as Sam sat crossed legged at the foot of their bed. Dean’s face fell, “How’d you get this number?” He demanded, “Scent’s all over cell phone store. Course’ I can’t smell you now” Gordon responded, “Where are you now?” He asked, Sam and Y/N’s faces fell also when they realized it was Gordon. “Well, I guess you'll just have to find us, won't you.” Dean quipped cockily. “I’d rather you come to me”

“What’s the matter, Gord-o? You’re not afraid of us, are you? We’re just sitting here. Bring it on” Dean challenged, his grip tightening on his phone as Sam and Y/N listened intently, sharing nervous looks. “I don’t think so” Gordon said menacingly, “Please. Please.” The sound of a woman sobbing through the phone, someone Gordon was holding hostage, pleaded to be saved. He hushed her as Dean’s jaw nearly fell, “Factory on riverside off the turnpike. Be here in 20 minutes or the girl dies.” Gordon demanded.

“Gordon, let the girl go,” Dean tried to reason. “Bye, Dean.” Gordon dismissed. “Gordon, don’t do this! You don’t kill innocent people. You’re still a hunter!” Dean snapped. “No. I’m a monster.” With that, Gordon hung up and the line went dead. Y/N, Sam and Dean were stunned into silence. The only thing that echoed the room was the faint sound of the phone call disconnecting. They sat there speechless.

____________________________________________

In record time, the group made it to the factory Gordon demanded they be at. Refusing to risk the life of an innocent woman. Dean bared the Colt as Sam and Y/N wielded their machetes, creeping down the dark hallway with caution. As they bent the corner as the sounds of muffled crying filled their ears. There they saw the woman Gordon had kidnapped tied to a post.

“Hey, hey. Its okay, you’re okay” Dean whispered as they walked towards the girl to free her from her gag. Sam was quick to go over and untie her and comfort her. “Hey, we got you. Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here.” He assured her as he helped her up. “Watch your head. Watch your head. “ Sam cooed, covering the trembling and sobbing woman’s head.

Y/N remained close to the door, glancing around the area to make sure Gordon wasn’t there to pop out of nowhere. "Thank you” The girl said, her voice shaking uncontrollably. She could barely walk so Dean gently slung her arm over his head and lifted her up bridal style. “Sam, Y/N, stay close” He instructed the two younger hunters.

They nodded obediently, following behind Dean. Their hearts have out for the poor girl who was terrorized by Gordon. Sharing a sympathetic look. They continued to follow behind Dean and the woman closely, but not closely enough. As they trudged down the hall, a mechanized door suddenly slid down in front of Sam and Y/N, cutting them off from the other two.

“Sam?! Y/N?!” Dean screamed panicked, dropping the woman to her feet, allowing her to lean against the wall. “Dean?!” Sam and Y/N yelled from behind the door, knocking their fists against the cold iron harshly. The three pounded on the steel but to no avail. “Dammit, guys!!” Dean bellowed, kicking the iron door. Sam pounded the door one last time in frustration, his nostrils flaring as his eyes darted over to Y/N.

An idea popped in his head so he quickly nudged the psychic. Y/N raised a brow at him curiously once they shared a look. “What?” She asked, “Use your ESP thing in the door” Sam urged her. “You did not just-” She stopped herself from cussing him out for using the term ‘ESP thing’ instead of telekinesis. Dean was truly rubbing off on his little brother. She rubbed at her temples as she nodded. “Dean, sweetie, step back!” Y/N shouted through the iron door.

“What?” Dean was confused but he did as she said and held the woman close to him in one arm, backing up just a bit. Y/N pressed her hand to the door, her eyes fluttering shut. Her face remained blank as she focused on the iron door, hoping her powers might be strong enough to open it. Her veins ignited up blue as her eyes shone white, the door shook a bit but it didn’t budge whatsoever.

Her nose twitched, she was trying as hard as she could but it felt like the door was resisting. She let out a frustrated grumble, pulling her hand away from the door. “God dammit it’s iron!” She yelled in frustration, pounding the door with her fist. The one element she knew of that she couldn’t break through. One of her unfortunate weaknesses.

“Dean, we’re gonna have to find another way around!” Sam called to the other side of the door. “Great!” Dean retorted sarcastically in response. “Sam, Y/N, be careful!” The two huffed in frustration as they turned and began walking around, when suddenly the lights went out. Y/N’s heart sank, realizing that Gordon ambushed them, “Son of a-“ She seethed, cursing at herself for not being more cautious.

The two nearly froze, blindly feeling around for each other as they raised their machetes in their dominant hands. "Sammy?!" Y/N called out for her brother. "I'm right here" He assured her, his hand gently touching her biceps. They gulped simultaneously, “Gordon! You got us where you want. You might as well come out and fight!” Sam shouted, “C’mon out you filthy fang!” Y/N bellowed as they crept around the dark room.

“I’m right here,” Gordon suddenly appeared behind them, they instantly broke contact and swung their machetes behind them. It swishes through the air but doesn’t make contact. “What’s the matter, Sammy and Y/N/N?” Gordon chuckled darkly, now suddenly on the other side of the room. “So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?!” Sam seethed, his anxiety skyrocketing as Y/N’s heart beat out of her chest. Both making sure to stay close to one another, “Damn right I do.”

Gordon can see them perfectly through his infrared vision while Sam and Y/N had to feel their way around the room, in what was total darkness for them. Eventually, they made it to a wall, braving their back’s against it. “You have no idea what I faced to get here. I lost everything. My life….. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous things I ever hunted. Neither of you are human.” Gordon hissed with pure hatred.

“Look who’s talking” Y/N retorted with venom and anger, she swore she saw Gordon at the corner of her eye, swinging instantly. A loud grunt left her throat when she missed, hitting a steel pipe. “Y/N/N!” Sam shouted. “You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.” Gordon confirmed, continuing to stalk them. Sam got ahold of Y/N, gripping her by her wrist to shove him behind her, shielding her with his free hand.

They heard the shuffling of Gordon’s feet as he moved closer to the pair, circling them like a hungry predator, “But you two. Oh, you are a lot worse than me." He added with disgust. “Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice!” Sam argued. “I don't.” Gordon scoffed, “Yes you do, Gordon. You didn't kill that girl.” Y/N defended, “No I didn’t. I did something much much worse” Gordon stated darkly. Their eyes widened simultaneously, their hearts beginning to race.

-

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door Dean was still hacking away at the iron with a large tool. Heavy desperate grunts left his throat as he slammed it against the chains. He grew frustrated, tossing the tool away. Suddenly, the girl vamped out and attacked, knocking him to the ground. His body hit the floor with a heavy thud.

“Jesus Chr-” Dean quickly dug into his pocket and pulled out the Colt, firing a single bullet bullseye into her forehead before she could tackle him. She convulsed brutally, energy crackling throughout her body and wound and eventually slumped to the floor. Dead. He panted heavily as the smoking gun grew hot in his hand.

-

Back on the other side, Gordon continued to taunt them. “I gotta hand it to you, guys. You two got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth.” Their breathing increased as they felt around desperately. “I know what it's like. We're the same now, all of us. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you.” Gordon’s words were menacing. “It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourselves. I'm gonna ... as soon as I'm done.” He promised them, “Three last good deeds. Killing you, you and then killing myself.”

They finally got backed into a corner, their breaths getting hitched in their throats. They directly faced Gordon, the bloodthirsty vampire growling as he bared his fangs. In a flip, he attacked, sending them all flying into a drywall that was separating them from Dean. Y/N got knocked to a further end of the room, both her and Sam being disarmed of their weapons. The machetes clattering to the floor, “Sammy!” Y/N grunted out when her back collided with the wall.

Before she could recover, Gordon stalked over to her and grabbed Y/N by the hair, slamming her head roughly into the concrete, hard enough to dazzle her but not kill her. Sam scuffled to his feet, retrieving his machetes and lunged for Gordon the moment his hand pulled at her hair, the vampire whirled around and knocked him off his feet with a kick. The younger Winchester being flung into a shelf.

“It’ll make a great story. One vampire hunter turns and he saves the world from bastards like you.” He growled lowly, pinning Y/N to the wall by her neck. Dean then came up from behind out of nowhere and aimed the Colt at the murderous vampire’s head, but was too fast for him, back handing the Colt off of his hands. He slammed Y/N once more into the wall roughly, cracking the wood before grabbing Dean’s gun-arm before twisting it back before flinging him across the room.

Y/N struggled and stumbled over to the side as she pushed herself to her feet, trying to stay up but the pain was making her head feel fuzzy and blurry while Sam picked himself up off of the floor, trying to recover from his own dizziness. Their hearts froze when they saw Gordon stalking over to Dean, grabbing him by his shirt before sinking his fangs into the elder Winchester’s neck.

“No!!” Both Y/N and Sam screamed in horror. Gordon sucked his neck vigorously, the loud sucking sound echoed in their ears as if to taunt them. Dean cried out in pain, his body flailing desperately in the vampire’s grip. Before they knew it, Sam had a large iron in his hand, knocking Gordon in the back of his neck as Y/N sent Gordon to the other side of the room with a wave of her hand.

In no time, Gordon recovered and vamp sped over to them. Kicking Y/N across her face and gripping Sam by his hair before reeling his fist back and driving it into his face. Y/N let out a sharp pained cry when she landed against the concrete. Sam groaned painfully, stumbling to his feet as blood poured down his nose. Both were growing more and more hopeless. Gordon’s vamp-speed was far too quick and skilled for them to overcome. The little recovery time for Y/N to send a blast his way was deadly.

Gordon kicked Sam in his midsection and returned his gaze to Y/N, picking her up by her neck and slamming her across a work table. Dean desperately tried to pull himself to his feet as Y/N cried out in pain. He cursed himself angrily, watching hopelessly as Gordon tossed Y/N to the floor like a rag doll. “Sam!!! Y/N!!!” He cried out weakly.

Gordon got sloppy when he turned his attention back to Sam, kicking the younger Winchester brutally. Y/N’s weary eyes searched the room for her machete, coming up empty. So she thought quickly on her feet and managed to grab a piece of cloth and an end of razor wire in each hand. Y/N pulled herself up with a groan. Her whole body shook with the combination of pain and adrenaline. She rushed over to Gordon and instantly wrapped the razor wire around his neck.

Gordon stumbled backwards in a panic, his hands clawing at the wire like a wild animal. He forced himself to turn, his wide eyes connecting with Y/N’s anger filled ones. She held on desperately as he tried to throw her off, but she remained clinging to it. Sam got up off the floor, his vision was blurry from the blood that kept pouring from his nose.

Her eyes glanced over to Sam who was a bloody mess on the floor and her boyfriend, who was still clutching his neck. Dean’s chest fell up and down with heavy breaths, trying to regain his sense. The sight of her family like trash on the ground fueled her anger. She glared at the monster with hatred and disgust as her veins ignited blue once more and her eyes shone white. A sick feeling of pleasure and satisfaction coursing through her body when a death-rattle sound came from Gordon’s throat.

She grit her teeth and pulled harder, forcing Gordon to stare her dead in her eyes as his life slipped from her hands. Blood dripped from her hands where the razor wire was cutting in and through Gordon’s fully fanged teeth. Yet, she pulled harder, until she cut all the way through Gordon’s neck and sent his fully decapitated head tumbling.

She panted from the effort, and dropped the razor on the floor beside her. A feeling of nauseous filling her. She stared down at Gordon’s head on the ground, and examined her slightly shaky bloody hands. Dean and Sam finally staggered to their feet. Both groaning and coughing. Dean clutched his neck in pain as Sam covered his bloody nose. Dean was still holding the Colt as he and Sam hobbled over.

The brothers look down in surprise at the headless Gordon, then back up at Y/N, who shrugged in return. Her own head was bruised, a cut right above her eyebrow bleeding terribly and her lip busted open. Y/N pulled herself from her place and began stumbling with the boys, none of them moving very well. “You just charged a super-vamped-out Gordon with no weapon. That's a little reckless, don't you think?” Dean’s croaky voice and untimely humor didn’t garner any response from the equally beaten down Sam and Y/N.

____________________________________________

After the long and traumatic hunt, it was now daytime. The group fully rested and back on the road. Dean was under the hood of Baby, poking at something while Y/N leaned against the passenger side door, smoking a cigarette. Sam opened a cooler that sat near Y/N’s feet and pulled three beers, then shut the lid and sat on it. He opened two bottles and passed one to Dean and another to Y/N. All while the stereo was playing Bad Company’s "Crazy Circles".

“Here you go.” He offered them the beer. “Thanks” They accepted in unison. The boys took a swig of their beers. While Y/N took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing smoke out of her nostrils, her head tipped back, enjoying the blissful moment. “Figure out what's making that rattle?” Y/N asked her boyfriend as Sam flicked the bottle caps into a nearby bush, “Not yet. Give me a box wrench, would you?” Dean responded, “Yeah. Here you go” Sam conceded, digging into the toolbox at his feet before handing Dean the tool.

As Dean went to begin his mechanical work while Sam and Y/N made conversation. He looked up thoughtfully, “Sam?” He called out to his little brother as he pushed himself back to his feet, “Wrong one?” Sam asked, his head snapping over to his big brother. “No no no, come here for a second.” Dean shook his head. Sam looked over at Y/N with confusion, the psychic just shrugging in response as she blew smoke out of the corner of her mouth and gesturing for him to go do what Dean said.

Sam pushed himself to his feet and leaned over the hood with Dean. “Yeah?” Dean licked his lips before beginning, “This rattle could be a couple of things. I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb.” Y/N smiled to herself when she realized what Dean was doing, positioning herself to the side of the hood as she tossed her burnt out bud onto the ground and crushed it with her heeled boot. “Okay?” Sam responded, still confused.

Dean cleared his throat before reaching back over the bonnet, pointing to a certain spot. “All right, see this thing? It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head.” He explained, “Hand me that socket wrench.” He instructed Sam, who went to do so but Y/N placed her hand over the toolbox and summoned the socket wrench to her hand before handing it over to Sam with a wide grin.

Dean’s eyes shifted to Y/N, his brows raising a bit. “Show off” Sam mumbled, playfully snatching the wrench away from her. “Jealous” She teased as Sam handed the tool over to Dean. The older Winchester took the tool, going to work with a smirk. “Alright, you with me so far?” Dean asked Sam for reassurance, “Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.” Sam answered, pointing to the valve as he intently listened. “Very good,” Dean commended before continuing. “Now this is your intake manifold, okay, and on top of it?”

Y/N found it so cute how Dean was teaching Sam, a little pout playing on her lips as she lit another cigarette, glancing between the brothers. Sam smiled as he tried to remember, “It's, uh, uh, a carburetor.” Sam replied. Dean nodded in confirmation, “Carburetor. Very good” He commended once more, pushing himself up from the bonnet as Sam side eyed him with amusement. “What's with the auto shop?” Sam chuckled, his eyes widening when Dean twirled the socket wrench before handing it out for him to take.

“What, you don't mean you want-” Sam stuttered. Even Y/N nearly choked on the smoke when Dean did that. “Yeah, I do. You fix it.” Dean cut him off, smiling up at his brother. “Dean, you barely let me drive this thing.” Sam held his hands up but Dean shook his head. “Well, it's time. You should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future.” Sam and Y/N’s face fell at his words, the two sharing a look. Y/N nodded, urging him to take the wrench.

Sam sighed deeply as Y/N took a long drag from her cigarette as she forced herself to swallow her emotions, “And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?” Dean said encouragingly, offering him a small smile. It was now Sam’s turn to swallow his emotions, choosing to look at this little moment as a good thing rather than impending horror as he leaned down and started unscrewing. Dean smiled like a proud father, patting Sam on his back.

He then walked over to his girlfriend, taking a seat on the cooler beside her. Y/N’s eyes remained on Sam as he carefully took the engine apart. She found this moment oddly tender, her heart swelling at how Dean was teaching Sam. She blew out a ring of smoke, a light gasp leaving her lips when Dean suddenly snatched her by her waist, pulling her onto his lap. “Are you actually letting him get up under the hood?” She asked with a light chuckle.

Dean’s tongue ran across his lips as he nodded his head, “Mhm.” He confirmed. She chuckled, raising a brow as she placed her cigarette between his lips, “That’s risky.” He inhaled the cigarette as he hummed in agreement before exhaling a small cloud of smoke around Y/N. He took the cigarette into his fingers, taking another puff, “It is, but he's a quick learner…little dull when it comes to cars but a quick learner” He replied with a smirk, his free hand rubbing her leg affectionately.

“I can hear you y’know!” Sam’s pensive voice pierced into their conversation as he stood up slightly, accidentally hitting his head on the hood, thanks to his impeccable height. Dean and Y/N snickered in amusement, the psychic covering his mouth as Dean said, “Put your shoulder into it” Urging Sam, only to retrieve a glare from his brother as he sipped his beer.

Sam scoffed, muttering profanities at them before returning back to the car. Y/N let out a breathy sigh as she relaxed back into Dean's lap, her chin resting against his head, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. He chuckled, enjoying having her in his lap, as he continued to smoke their cigarette and watch Sam struggle but learn.

____________________________________________

Author’s Note: Hi beauties! Okay, I’m not gonna lie. I'm not so confident about this episode😭I don’t know if it’s just my writing insecurities being a nasty bitch but I genuinely don’t like how I wrote it and had a hard time garnering motivation to do so BUT I worked hard so I’m gonna love it regardless, despite what my stupid ass brain is saying🥰

It’s a bit shorter than most but I guess quality over quantity?💀

I hope you guys loved it too!! Don’t be shy, tell me what was your favorite part🫶My personal favorite moment was Y/N comforting Sam, these two babies go through enough on a daily:( their slight banter throughout this chapter gave me life😂

Honorable mention: Y/N’s internal conflict about the ring at the beginning of the chapter💀💀💀I was crying/laughing while writing it, MISS GIRL IS TIRED LMAO

Anyways, I hope you guys have an amazingggg day. Sending love to everyone and see you in the next one! Mwaahhh

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90 @strawberrykiwisdogog @barnes70stark

Xoxo

[kunasthiast]

I loved the one about reader crying with Sukuna. How would he react if his "comfort" makes reader cry harder? Would he panic?

owwkay i love this one T^T so glad you loved the other one!! before i start with this one, i just wanna get this out that we all have different love languages even in every couple – some have the same way of showing their love, some have opposite ones. and it’s not something that should stop you from loving each other lol basically, love languages aren’t one-size-fits-all

anw, here’s how i see Sukuna’s reaction ^^

he’s standing there all smug, utterly convinced he just fixed your little meltdown with his usual “tough love” approach – dragging you outside, shoving food at you, or even letting you pick the music (which is a rare privilege – because we KNOW that the passenger princess is usually the DJ, but nah, not with ‘Kuna)

in his mind? everything’s handled perfectly. boyfriend duties: completed. he did the bare minimum, and obviously that should be enough (for him)

but the unexpected happens: you start crying harder. 

it’s not the quiet, sniffly kind. it’s like full on, chest-heaving, ugly-sobbing. the kind that makes him malfunction on the spot. his brain shuts down.

“are you serious right now?” his voice is between exasperation and genuine concern. “what the hell did I just say? why are you crying harder?”

well, what he did should’ve worked. it always works.

his insults-disguised-as-affection. forced distractions. bribery via all your favorite comfort foods. these have never failed before. and yet, you’re there… crying harder than before.

and dear gods, he’s panicking. not outwardly, obvs. but internally, it’s absolute code red. 

so after a long, long sigh (dramatic, suffering, like he’s the one who’s actually going through it), he does something rare: he shuts up

no more barking at you to stop crying. no more sarcastic remarks. no distractions. instead, he just sits there, watching. letting you sob into his shoulder. he doesn’t even tease you for wetting his favorite shirt (your gift, obvs!)

he would mutter: “alright, alright, I gotchu” and without warning, he pulls you into his lap.

no forehead flicks, no taunts, no lazy, one-armed, half-hearted pats on the back. just a firm steady grip. one hand cradling the back of your head, the other gripping your waist like he’s grounding you. 

“hey. just breathe, dumbass” his voice is be rough, but it grounds you better. “i’m right here”

and that’s it. just presence. just him staying – even though emotions make him want to physically fight the air sometimes

because that’s the thing about him. he’s not mean in a malicious way – he’s just an emotionally constipated bastard who doesn’t do soft the way most people expect. his version of “i care about you” isn’t in sweet words or forehead kisses (okay, fine, sometimes he does that) – it’s more of in actions

the way he adjusts when he realizes his usual methods aren’t working. the way he lets you cry into his favorite shirt without a single complaint. the way he stays with you – even though feelings make him itch (the extra lovey-dovey T^T)

so if someone ever asks if his way of talking offends you? you just laugh. his insults? 50% habit, 30% deflection, and 20% his own brand of affection. if anything, you’d be more shocked if he suddenly turned into some soft-spoken, hand-holding romantic – that’s not him.

and that’s why you roll your eyes when he finally breaks the silence between you with:

“see? got it all out? good. that was pathetic by the way”

“oh my god, ‘Kuna”

“what? you want me to lie? babe, you looked like you were dying. that scared the shit out of me.”

but then lower – almost like he doesn’t want you to hear it: “next time just tell it to me, don’t keep it to yourself that long, okay?”

and if you do point out that he’s getting soft? he’ll flick your forehead and call you a dumbass. because some things – like the fact that he cares – don’t need to be said. they’re just understood 

and at the end of the day? love languages aren’t about compatibility—they’re about effort. as long as both of you are willing to meet in the middle, you’ll always find a way to make it work!

[wvrlock]

// Fallahan main BG3 verse though... in which he chickened out of Avernus before the city was saved but after they rescued Duke Ravengard, moved to Vanthampur Manor and started making a living out of the tale

[raddest-laddest]

thinking about this really funny interaction i had with my boss yesterday

[sqlmn]

OC RNG stuff.

-Lucinda is engaged to the oldest prince in a family of nine where there are 8 brothers and then the youngest is the only girl. She adores her future husband. -Ink Blot is a really dumb mage who acts as a street performer using fake magic despite being an actual mage. He just wants to be the center of attention. -Ruby and Luce are from the same plot (thank you RNG I love the dream wardens). They're part of different pairs and basically just patrol to keep dreams in check. Ruby and Luce also don't really meet each other in canon. Their routes don't overlap but they both interact with the main duo which is Colette and Marcus. (Ruby wants to beat Marcus up while Luce wants to kiss Marcus for what it matters.)

[perilegs]

imagining my girl ati mahariel in bg3 and by god she would get along with karlach. alarmingly so. they would absolutely annihilate something <3

[pagesofkenna]

what if i think mormonism is definitely christianity and thats why its bad

👍❓

Sure? Whatever?

I can't tell if you're legitimately looking for my approval or just trying to be witty and cutting. I struggle to believe you actually care what i think.

That post was from two days ago, i had to hunt a bot to find it. How far back are you on my blog? I tag mormon post as '#lds things' so you can block it and never have to deal with the fact that i post that kinda stuff sometimes. Blocking tags is an integrated feature on tumblr now, you dont even need xkit anymore.

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed) recreational drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, blow jobs, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, teasing and eventually violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- Oral (Female recieving) fingering, sexual tension, snorting cocaine off bodies lmaoo, coke lips just a lil, mentions of violence and mafia mentions- WC-6.9k

Based on Stripclub Owner Sukuna IDK how many parts this will be, maybe six? That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- CHECK it- LINK

<<<Part One - Playlist - Masterlist- Part Three>>>

Part Two

You’re yawning as you get your little boy ready to sleep, and your good friend and now babysitter Miwa comes in, a pretty smile on her face as she walks in and sees Touma, your little son yanking on your hair then. “Ow, hey now!”

You’re all laughing as you disentangle your hair, huffing a bit. “Sowwy, mama.” He says so cute, and you melt then.

“It’s why mommy wears a bun.” You tap his little button nose, earning a little scrunch of his nose, and then he looks at Miwa, opening his little hands.

“Miwa!” She giggles, getting down on her knees and opening her arms, he goes to hug her then as you get everything ready for the night.

“Are you sure it’s fine? I swear I feel so awful asking you…” You murmur, you’d just gotten a funds transfer that was far too much from Sukuna labled ‘sitter money’ which was hundreds of dollars.

“No, please, it's fine.”

“Um… is two hundred good?” You ask, as Sukuna sent another note saying ‘for you to eat something - you’ll need energy’ which made you blush insanely, memories from him yesterday making you overheat.

“Two hundred, what? That’s too much.” She says with a frown. “It’s one night, like a hundred?”

“Miwa…”

“Girl, I’m not taking two hundred for it.”

“It’s not even from me.” You show her the text then, and she has a blush of her own on her cheeks.

“He did that!?”

“Yeah… so please take it, literally it’s not from me, and I promise, he’s got plenty. Clearly..” She sighs, smiling a bit then as she studies you.

“You really like him, hmm?”

“It’s intense, Miwa.” You murmur softly, looking as your little boy is laughing and tapping on his tablet. “He makes me feel really pretty.”

“Oh baby.” She hugs you then, and you cling to her tightly. “You’re beautiful, I tell you that all the time.”

“I know, and thank you but like, the stretch marks that… he trashed on me for, Mr. Sukuna thinks they’re so sexy.” Your voice is just a breathy whisper, you don’t know how much Touma may or may not hear or know yet.

“Ugh, I’m so glad you left him.” She rolls her pretty blue eyes, shivering in disgust at the thought of your ex, it’s a common response to anyone with sense. “But Toji is kind of related?”

“Loosely. He’s different, I promise, than any of them.”

“I’ll trust it, but jesus the Zenin family is no joke. Just be careful.” You nod as you continue to get a bag together, blushing when you grab pajamas, you don’t know if you’re going to even use pajamas.

Sukuna did things to you that have never been done just existing, what’s terrifying is you know it’s probably a hookup, but after two years of nothing, even that sounds so good. But you’re scared that you’ll catch feelings fast with him, just his presence alone is intoxicating, as much of a drug as any of them push.

You certainly weren’t telling Miwa that.

Sukuna seems night and day from your ex, Naoya, as if they couldn’t be two more different men, despite the clear mafia ties. Something about Sukuna screams that he wants to protect you, and as independent as you are lately by being forced to be, something about him taking care of you was heady and addicting. You can’t stand how much you want it, want more.

“You’ve got those dickmatized eyes.” Miwa says with a sigh and you shush her, as she giggles.

“Not even… I… Miwa!”

“I’m kidding.” She giggles then, shaking her head. “The girls will be very happy to hear you’re meeting someone.”

“Don’t tell our friends yet, what if this ends… with nothing?” You murmur, and she shakes her head, blue hair falling softly.

“Look already, he's more thoughtful. You have fun, and shit if he wants to give me two hundred more to stay another night I will. Easy money for me.”

“Miwa!” She’s laughing and you can’t help but laugh too, before nervously biting your lip. “I feel guilty leaving, it’s one thing to make money, but it seems so selfish to just go do this.”

“Please don’t, he’ll have fun. Won’t you?” She asks him then, as he comes out with his tablet, slicing at fruit rapidly.

“Mommy go have fun!” You blink back tears then. “Mommy should smile, Miwa, smile!”

“She should smile.” Miwa’s hair falls over her brow as she picks him up, propping him on her hip, and your lip trembles a bit at just how sweet he is, before your teeth clamp down on it.

“I love you both, I swear. Touma baby, Mommy will be back tomorrow, will you tell me all the fun that you have?” You ask, feeling emotions catch in your throat, this would be the first night away from him since you all have been on your own.

“Mhmm!” He gives you a big kiss on your cheek, and you giggle at him then, but as you’re heading into your big old SUV, you tense when you see the number, pressing answer and sighing.

“What do you want.” You bite out, trying to sound firm despite the nerves eating you alive.

“That’s not a very nice greeting, sweetheart, don’t you miss me?” His voice makes you sick to your stomach, you tremble when you start your car, and he’s laughing. “Still got that old thing, I can hear it.”

“Well I own it, and it’s mine. So yes. What do you even want?” You murmur, and hear the dark chuckle of Naoya Zenin.

It’s disgusting, even his laugh.

“Just wondering how my son is.”

“Now you care? Sure didn’t on his birthday.” You hear his scoff.

“You’re such a bitch, as if you’d let me see him.” He mutters, tone changing from the cloying fake one to fully disgusting.

“I tried to let you, even after it all, it’s been your choice.” You gulp down some water that you’ve brought as you sit at the turning lane, blinker ticking loudly in the quiet car, as your heart races.

“Well maybe I miss you and Touma, did you think of that? Oh, I just bet you miss me.”

“I’m good.”

“Ha, you say that, but I remember things.” His voice takes on a purr now, you can almost see those narrow brown eyes, his malicious grin, how had you ever fallen for someone like that?

“Remember what?” You ask, voice harsh as you remember the last time you all had been together, after he’d cheated again. You’d been so fucked up from him you’d wanted to please him, to make him desire you, but there was no pleasure in it, shit Naoya himself had never been one to pleasure you.

Selfish in every single area including sex, you think you got off more from Sukuna fingering you for a moment than your entire relationship, just the way his ruby eyes looked at you was like a drug. The way he’d kissed you, how he wanted your pleasure, and did all this for a night. It was a million times more than you’d ever had with Naoya.

“You don’t remember me inside you, sweetheart?” He cooes, but you’re shivering in disgust at the memory.

“Sure I do, I’m good.”

“You act as if you could do better, as if you were even good enough for me.” There it goes, you think, while you’re driving down the highway toward the club, odd that it feels so comfortable so quickly.

“Yeah, if I’m not then why are you calling me, hmm?” You ask then, hearing his scoff, smiling as practically picture him losing his shit.

“Who’d want you after the kid but me? You act like you’re the same bitch you were when we met.”

“Lots of people, because guess what? I’m still hot, so fuck you.” He scoffs as you’re giggling.

“The fuck!?”

“Mmhmm, I’m still very hot. And if you don’t think so, go knock up some other poor girl I guess, then down her for the changes a baby makes to her body. Because I’m not it anymore.”

“You little-”

“I’ll block this number if you call for anything personal again. Our agreement states you should be talking through our app.”

“Yeah, really ya think I’ll listen to that shit? Why don’t you admit it, how much you miss me?”

“Because I don’t. Anyway, I have work.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” He demands in his slick tone, one that makes your tummy lurch.

“Bartending.”

“Hah, you were only smart enough to look pretty and blink those lashes, back to it hmm?”

“Didn’t you just say I’m unattractive, how contradictory are you?”

“You-”

“Goodbye.” You hang up the phone, shutting your eyes for a moment and gripping it tightly in your hand, shaking off the images in your mind, in just a week Sukuna, and shit even Toji as a friend, have made you feel better than you had since the split.

Getting cheated on back to back was not easy on you, but you feel like you can shove it all back and just breathe. You’re walking into the club then, seeing Gojo with a fellow tall, dark haired man, he’s beautiful actually you muse as you walk past them, Sukuna and Toji to the dressing room. Sukuna had already laid eyes on you though, and as you’re getting undressed he walks in.

All the girls scatter, his ruby eyes directly on you, and you’re trembling just a bit when he frowns. “What’s wrong, brat?”

“Brat?” You tease softly, blinking a bit when he steps closer.

“You look upset. Who do I need to kill?” You almost laugh, but he raises a brow, god how are this man’s eyebrows attractive!? You sigh then, stepping closer, naked aside from your panties, and you feel his eyes dart to your bare breasts.

“I’m much happier now.” You murmur, he sighs then, a big hand on your waist, taking you over, thumb slipping against the swell of your lower breast.

“Yeah, why?” He mutters, so gruffly, already throbbing hard under his slacks, as he thinks of everything he wants to do.

“Because you’re touching me.” Your vulnerability almost breaks him then, his lips parted in shock, he squeezes tighter, leaning down and cupping your face.

“Did you get the money for your sitter?” He murmurs, and you nod shyly.

“It was too much, but I’m sure she appreciates it.” Your hand comes to grip his strong wrist, heart beating erratically in your chest now.

“And did you eat?”

“Not yet.” You giggle, softly, he sighs then, lips a breath away.

“I’m not fucking kidding, you’ll need the energy.” His words and his tone make your mind wander, just how would it be, to have Sukuna inside you?

“Oh yeah?”

He smirks before chuckling, throwing his head back. “You’re cute, brat, oh yeah.”

“Hey!” You sigh now, stepping back as he eyes your breasts, and you pop your little tassels out of your bag, eyeing him then, watching him drink the sight in. “Wanna help?”

“Shit.” You kill him. Sukuna takes them and presses them, as the little sticky adhesive suctions on, but he’s cupping your breasts in huge hands, as one of the girls, Candy walks in, pausing. “What do you want?” His voice is so terse, it’s just nothing like the man that just asked if you got the hundreds he sent for a sitter and your lunch.

“Um… Mr. Sukuna… could you help me with mine?” She asks then, yanking her tassels off, bare breasted. She makes you tense a bit.

Naoya had cheated over and over, but you and Sukuna were nothing yet, shit you’d just sucked him in his office so far, that’s it. And maybe a hook up tonight? So you can’t be upset if he wishes to, you just look away nervously, leaning forward in the mirror to adjust your makeup and pulling away as he eyes her, so clearly irritated by her presence.

“Ask Toji or something.” He grumbles, before turning you back to him, your eyes glimmer then, with some moisture, making him stutter. “What’s wrong now, shit?”

“No, it’s… your…” You hug him then, making him freeze, as your pretty little body is against him, your breasts so soft on him, he wants to tear you apart, put you back together, make you his. His hands stall though, unsure as you look up at him with tears down your pretty cheeks.

Candy leaves as Sukuna’s mouth opens and shuts. “Brat, what is it?”

“You m-make me feel really… um… it’s stupid…”

“Out with it.”

“Sexy? Pretty? Wanted?” He blinks in confusion then, how could you ever not be, especially with the amount of attention you get here? “I’m not used to this.”

“You know you’re pretty, just… shut up, stop that shit.” He’s swiping at your eyes though, as you elicit emotions that make him insane. “Why’d you feel like you’re not, that brain fried from your kid or something!?”

“No… I just… shitty past.” He sees it then, you’re so hurt from something, and anyone who ever made you feel that way!?

Sukuna would take him the fuck out.

“Whoever says you’re not is trying to fuck with you, fuck your head up, so ignore that shit.” He says softly almost, still a little gruff, cupping your face then. “I have excellent taste, trust mine hmm?”

“Yeah.” Your lip trembles, and Sukuna can’t stop the word from spilling from his lips then.

“Beautiful.”

“I… huh?”

“Shut it.” He kisses you then, and you’re falling against him, pressed on the counter where he can see your back and ass in the mirror, tempting him just as much as your pretty breasts, he moans as he steps between your thighs.

“Did you say beautiful?”

“Shush it, fuck you’re annoying hmm?” You just giggle a bit, and the action does something odd to his heart, god you do something to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Sukuna.”

“Just Sukuna, shit.” He kisses you again before taking a breath, eyeing your body up and down slowly. “Wanna sit on my lap during this meeting? You may… have to have some coke on your body.”

“On me!?”

“Yeah but I’d like you there? Don’t smile like that, you’re too excited.” He says with a glare, you can’t stop it though. The way Sukuna makes you feel, even if this is just you two hooking up, it’s too addicting.

“Which outfit should I wear?” You hold up a few, when Sukuna picks a sexy little red number.

“Turn, I’ll snap it up.” You do as he says, he brushes your hair off the back of your neck over one of your shoulders, eyeing you in the mirror, when he’s done snapping it his fingers trail down your spine, sending shivers down it. His hands then grip your waist, pulling your back against him, and you feel him, hard and insistent against the small of your back under his dress pants.

“You like this outfit?” You manage to tease softly, he exhales then, trailing his big hands down your shoulders, then brushing the sides of your breasts, making your nipples taut under these tassels.

“What do you think?” He says gruffly, before stepping back, letting you both take a breath, he leans forward, palms on the counter, nipping at your shoulder with his teeth, making you gasp a bit. “Keep thinking how good you fucking taste, wanna bury my face inside you.”

“Sukuna…” Your voice is a whine, pathetic, your head falling to the side, as his palm now presses on your tummy. “You do that?”

“Do I do that?” He chuckles against your neck now. “Yes I do that, don’t tell me whatever shit ex you had didn’t.” You just blush now, looking down, and his brows raise in surprise. “And how long were you together?”

“Four years.”

“Not once.” You shake your head, and he scoffs, finger drifting just across your red lace, touching you over the material, finding you drenched, making him moan at the heat he feels. You’re soaking his fingers, turning to look up at him, your eyes dilated and lidded. “You want me to drink you up?”

“Y-yes. I do.” You admit softly, he chuckles as he studies the color decorating your skin, brushing his thumb along your cheek so overheated. Before Naoya you’ve had guys do it, and of course it felt good, but you imagine Sukuna will be this entire other level.

“You won’t ever want me to leave once I do.” You hear the vulnerability in his voice, making you pause before he backs away, clearing his throat.

As if you’d leave him if he was yours, does he not know what kind of man he is to you? How you feel? Well… no, not yet, you’re swallowing it all down, it’s new and it’s scary, and…

“First, be a good girl and let’s do this meeting, yeah?” His gruff words make you focus once more.

“Yes Sir.”

“Shit don’t say that.” He scowls, turning to adjust his raging hard cock up in his waistband, and your giggle earns a deeper glare. “Keep acting up.”

“I won’t! Promise.” He doesn’t give you the smile until you’ve already stepped in front of him, but it’s quite a dopey little smile, as he watches your ass bounce in the little outfit. There’s this possessiveness he feels he can’t explain, he wants to wipe out anyone who looks at you, and he barely knows you.

He can’t wait to have you cumming all over his face, can’t wait to drink your pretty pussy up until you’re a writhing fucking mess under him, he wonders, do you squirt or do you just drip? Has anyone gotten you off good enough before? Sukuna would fuck every thought out of your mind anyway, until it’s just him, because damned if that’s not all that’s in his head lately.

You both step out into the heady club, the scent of women’s perfume and men’s cologne mixing with cannabis and cigars, along with some fragrant incense burning somewhere. It’s smoky from the little fog machines, the lights strobing just so, highlighting everyone dancing, laughing, lounging. But all Sukuna can see or sense is you.

Even your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, is it  fuck your arousal he could damn near feel it, when you next to him, now, looking up just so, your face so pretty it’s damn near irritating to him, the music thrumming through until it’s pulsating both of your bodies. “Where to, Mr. Sukuna?”

“I said to call me just Sukuna, brat.”

He bets you’re blushing, even if he can’t actually see it. “Sukuna.”

God his name from those lips makes his cock throb, how will he focus on business like this!?

“Right in the VIP, c’mon.” He leads you in, where Toji has Candy on his lap, she scowls openly at you until Sukuna catches her, suddenly her scowl disappears, you can’t help but be a little amused.

You recognize Gojo, who is leaned back with an ankle crossed over a knee, grinning up at you with those insane blue eyes, even in the dark they’re ridiculous, you can’t help but smile back, he’s been very sweet to you so far. “Hey sweets, come sit on daddy’s lap, hmm?”

“She sure the fuck won’t, and you’re not daddy.” Sukuna growls, but you’re giggling just a bit as a couple more girls come in, and Sukuna sits next to Toji on one couch, across from Satoru and his friend. Satoru pouts at you.

“He’s mean, isn’t he?” The man next to him snorts, and takes your hand, bending over and kissing it, making you melt a bit.

“Suguru Geto.” He says, you smile before Sukuna has you yanked down firmly on his lap, you laugh a little breathless as you tell Suguru your name, and he watches amusedly when Sukuna wraps an arm around your hips.

“See how greedy he is with her?” Gojo says, but he’s soon amused by another one of the dancers coming by, handing him a drink. “Ooh, thank you.”

“That’s the girliest drink I’ve seen, little bitch drink.” Sukuna grumbles, Satoru sticks his tongue out, sipping on the pink concoction.

“Mmm, and I hear you’re already the star of the club, hmm?” Suguru says your name as a girl hands him a drink, and you shake your head nervously.

“She sure is, stop being shy, doll.” Toji says, tucking a lock of your hair back, before Sukuna glares at him and he chuckles. “Not that he lets her do much dancing, really.”

“Shut it Toji. Business time.”

“Boring.” Satoru leans back in his seat, long legs spread, and sipping his drink as Suguru leans forward, while a dancer lets him snort a line right off her thigh, lapping at the residue with his tongue and sighing.

“Satoru, focus.” He says in a calm tone, Satoru eyes you though as another girl comes to him.

“Wanna snort a line off you, mommy.”

“Satoru I swear to god.” Sukuna threatens, Gojo pouts now, blinking snowy lashes as Sukuna’s grip on you tightens brutally.

“I can’t take a line off the star girl?” Sukuna sighs, and you look at him then, lips turning up at the corners, as his ruby eyes narrow.

“Trying to make me jealous?” He hums quietly, you stand then, earning his hands slipping down your hips.

“I wonder if you’ll show me how mad you are later.” He smirks at you, raising a brow arrogantly.

“Think you can handle that, little brat?” You step over to Satoru, who exhales, sitting up straight then, smiling up at you.

“Look you’re defying him and everything, cute.” You roll your eyes as Satoru takes the snowy powder, tapping some gently on your thigh then, using this fancy black and silver card to line it up. “You’ve never done any, have you?”

“No…” You admit, and even as Toji, Sukuna and Suguru talk, you feel those crimson eyes boring into you, when Satoru slips his long fingers, your heel propped on the other side of him, and he wraps up a bill.

“What’s a good girl doing here though?” He asks curiously, plump lips turning up when he finishes rolling the bill.

“Single mom life is expensive.” He pauses then, blue eyes looking down a bit at your body, as you overhear the conversation in the background.

“And the Zenin family seems to think they have claim to parts of our territory, the Kamos are on board with Gojo now though, so that expands us and what we’re moving significantly.” Suguru says to Sukuna, who laughs then, throwing his head back as Toji grimaces.

“Don’t call me a fuckin’ Zenin, ya know that’s not my name.” Toji grumbles, considering he does use Fushiguro, but you can’t blame him, just look at Naoya? Who would want to be related to that?

“So you really are a mommy then. Hot.” Satoru says, before snorting the coke off your skin, one of his hands pressing into your calf as he does. Then his face is far too close to where you feel his breath tickle your inner thigh, he presses a kiss on your thigh then, earning Sukuna standing up and Satoru grinning.

“You’re gonna get killed.” Toji chuckles, and Satoru holds his hands up, as Sukuna places you behind him, grabbing him by the collar.

“I was just thanking her!?” He’s sputtering and you can’t stop your giggle, something was stupidly attractive about Sukuna like this.

“I’ll cut your dumb ass tongue out of your mouth if you-”

“Sukuna, chill. Satoru, apologize.” Suguru says calmly then, humor in his violet eyes, and Sukuna flops down Satoru right on the couch, he brushes himself off, laughing like a psycho.

“Sorry Sukuna, it's not my fault she’s so pretty.” Satoru earns another grab of his neck. “I said sorry!”

“Hands off.” He looks to you, his glare making your giggle stop, as he bends low over you, his big hands on your bare waist, your pulse racing, pounding in your ears as the room watches you both for a moment. “And you, you’re not leaving my lap anymore for the rest of the meeting, got it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You can’t stop the little smile when he sighs at that, before sitting down and firmly planting you on his thigh, Gojo winks over at you, earning an eye roll as you feel Sukuna’s firm thigh against your head, addling your mind.

“Now, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Sukuna clears his throat, one arm wrapped around your waist, dragging you further up his thigh, making you ache in need, more and more. “We absolutely have an active Zenin member approaching our area, and they’re doing a lot more than running drugs.”

“They’re running people.” Toji says, disgust in his voice, and your eyes go wide as you look at him.

“This convo too much for you?” Sukuna murmurs, and then you look at him, shaking your head and gulping.

“So we stop them, then.” Suguru says calmly, and Sukuna sighs.

“There’s no other option, considering who we’re talking about, not like they’ll make any deals.” Sukuna now takes some of the powder, turning you and sprinkling just a bit on the curve of your neck and shoulder, snorting it off you and then licking the line off your body, exhaling as he tastes you mixing with the numbness of the cocaine. “Fuck…”

It’s a murmur no one hears but you, but you feel him clenching you tightly, so protective, his hands not leaving you as they speak, little brushes against your back playing with your hair, all while your pussy throbs in need for him. But more so your mind craves to know more of him, just who is the man you feel so comfortable sitting on so damn quickly?

What makes him… him?

“No one hates the Zenins more than Toji.” Comes Suguru’s voice now, shaking you out of your reverie, you blink a bit as Toji laughs, downing a shot.

“She does.” He says your name, gesturing to you, earning the eyes of every man, including Sukuna, as his mouth parts. “Shit, sorry doll.”

“What’s he mean?” Sukuna asks tersely, and you sigh, shifting a bit.

“Do you have a connection to the Zenin?” Suguru asks curiously, you sigh again, that’s two sighs, Sukuna counts, while you tense, and he watches your jaw clench just a bit as he turns your chin to face him.

“They got something on you?” He asks quietly, and you look at Toji again, unable to really say the words.

“Her kid is a Zenin.” He says then, gruffly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw your shit out there.”

“Your kid is a Zenin?” He asks, you nod then, just a bit. “So your shitty ex is a Zenin?”

“He’s the shittiest of them all.” Toji mutters.

“Who?” Sukuna asks quietly.

“Naoya.” You whisper the name, bitter and disgusting in your mouth.

“Oh shit. Mommy, that's bad taste.” Satoru says, and you watch the room put their heads in their hands.

“I know, okay, trust me. Leaving him wasn’t easy, that’s why I ended up having to come here, it’s not like he has much to do with our son. Touma doesn’t even remember him. But he did call me today.”

“He did what now?” Sukuna’s grip makes you wince just a bit, it’s so tight. “If he calls you I really should know from now on, you have no clue how dangerous he is.”

“I was with him for years, I do know.” You stand then, taking a breath, and shaking your head. “I should go… dance or something.”

Sukuna’s saying your name, and Toji is trying to apologize, but you can’t stand another moment, wondering how even here Naoya fucks with you. But it’s just moments before Sukuna is yanking you off the stage, literally picking you up, and carrying you to his office, sitting you right on his desk. Your breasts are heaving up and down with each breath when he caresses your cheek, surprisingly gentle.

“What’d he say to you? Did he threaten you?” Sukuna murmurs, you shake your head.

“Just mean shit, like I must miss him, and who would want me. His typical poison he likes to throw, nothing more.” You swipe at tears that form, falling down your cheeks, and Sukuna feels rage destroying him from the inside.

“And you surely know it’s bullshit, hmm?”

“I told him to fuck off.” You smile just a bit, a hand slipping over a strong chest, one you wonder about, how far do these tattoos lead? How does he look with it off? The thoughts tantalize you to no end. “You helped me do that.”

“Good girl.” You exhale, biting your lower lip, as he spreads your thighs, standing between them and leaning over you. “If he calls you anymore, tell me, you don’t want to know all what he’s into, he could hurt you.”

“He never has, like physically at least.”

“Just promise me, I can’t protect you if you don’t.” You frown then at that, nodding.

“But my kid is most important to me, Sukuna.”

“Then I’ll make you both safe, even the little… kid or whatever.” He grumbles, melting you utterly, you blink rapidly, pulling on his tie, your lips a breath from his now, tasting the sweetness of his breath.

“Why are you so good to me already?”

“I haven’t been good to you yet. Or you’d be fucked out.” He says, whispering those words, you’re kissing him now, gasping when you feel the numbness of your lips, and he chuckles a bit. “It’ll go away.”

“Will I get…”

“No, it won’t fuck you up. But I will.” You’re back to kissing him, his lips working over yours again and again, big hand slipping down the small of your back. “Take the day off, I need you all day I can’t wait for later.”

“I can’t, Sukuna.”

“I’ll pay you three times your average day.”

You shake your head at him, lips parted in a moan when he presses his clothed cock against your dripping wet pussy, your hands cling to his suit jacket, whining out. “Don’t pay me, I don’t wanna be that way…”

“I’m fucking rich, baby, just take it. Give it to your kid, I don’t know.”

You snort at him, your entire body responding to his every touch. “Sukuna, you don’t give a little kid money like that!”

“I don’t know what you do with those things.” You burst out laughing at him, and he glares, while you swipe back a lock of pink hair. “Take. The. Day. Off.”

You certainly do take the day off, and soon you’re in the back of the limo you’d watched Sukuna climb into many times, but now it’s just you and him, and you’re kissing him, straddling his lap, nothing on you but that lingerie and his suit jacket. He’s under you, feeling your cunt against him, ready to fuck into you, fill you, you’re driving him so crazy he’s sensitive.

If he busts from this he will never forgive himself, so he pushes you off, on your back now, you’re breathless as you look up at him, his coat is swallowing your body, so small compared to him, your eyes locked on his, so gorgeous it makes him want to be stupid. He’d cum in you, give you more kids if that’s really what makes you so happy, fill you so good, keep you.

“Annoying.” He says then, and you blink curiously, not realizing the inner turmoil of the obsession he now has over you, this gorgeous mom who has a fucked ex, and a soaking wet pussy grinding up for attention against his thigh. This mom who he’d make a mom a million times over, and he doesn’t even know you.

“I’m annoying?” You ask curiously, he sighs now, nodding, and you just giggle a bit, more pretty, fueling his obsession as he grips your thigh then, rough thumb pressing against delicate skin. He watches your breath catch, as he feels his cock leaking precum from just touching you.

“So annoying.” He confirms, but it might as well be sweet words when he kisses you again, and then down your throat, until he gets to your pretty breasts, while the limo steadily drives you both, jostling you just a bit, only serving to put his face closer to where he wants to be.

“Sukuna, um… are you…” He’s kissing down your stomach now, nipping right at your belly button, tongue trailing a line that would previously make you so nervous, but with him you just feel…

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He murmurs, rough fingers suddenly slipping under your panties, making your hips buck up, clit twitching in response. “He really didn’t eat you out?”

“No, I didn’t… um, cum with him.”

What the fuck is wrong with him. Aside from the obvious.

“Hmm, then she’ll be all mine, hah.” You’re watching his eyes dilate to the point they’re black, sharp teeth biting at your thigh, while you’re drooling out of your little hole, finally he’s down there, eying your pussy in the back of this limo, groaning at the sight. “Oh you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Please, please.” You’re whimpering, and he smirks, before parting your folds, breathing on your clit and watching the little thing twitch for him.

“You’re so needy already, gonna be so fuckin’ easy, brat?”

“Sukuna please…” You glare then when he’s kissing right above your clit, your hands enwrapping in his silky pink locks, pulling just so, only making his cock harder for you.

“Need something?”

“Oh my god…” He’s spitting on your clit now, groaning as he watches it bubble and slip down your hole, and you’re squeaking, only earning his chuckle.

“M’gonna have so much fun with you, baby, shit.” He slips two fingers down and up your slit, still just breathing on your damn clit, as your hands fall from his hair, instead clinging to his shoulders, feeling the broad shoulders move under your touch. “Perfect pussy, fuck you for it, shit.”

“Fuck me for it!?”

“Better than I could even picture, stroking my cock every day this week, so much it’s raw damn near. Almost cumming from kissing, you do this shit.” You’re lost in the sensations of his two fingers sinking inside you then, pressing up and finding that spongy spot so fast you can’t breathe, screaming out, back arching. “There it is, dumb fuck couldn’t find it huh?”

“God no he couldn’t. F-fuck!” You whine out as Sukuna flicks his tongue against your clit now, a sensation you can’t describe, hot and sticky as it laps at your wetness, as he moans at your sweetness.

“Fuck….” Sukuna wants to tease you, but he’s done once he gets that taste fully on his mouth, he’s pulling his fingers out and burying his face against you, fucking your little gummy walls with his tongue as you shatter under him. He’s moaning against you, tongue lapping all the wetness pouring out of you, as you’re clinging to his hair so hard it’s painful.

It only urges him more, your moans, your cries, how pretty you look when he stares up at you, his thumbs holding your lips open so he can fuck you even better with his tongue. He feels your walls fluttering, gripping his wet muscle, feels you tense when his nose bumps your clit, you’re screaming out, so loud it’s echoing in the limo, and he knows it then.

He’ll never get enough of you.

Just tasting you is better than any girl he’s fucked, and there have been a lot, shit he’s never enjoyed eating pussy like this either. He’s one that enjoys tasting a woman, it makes him excited to get women off, he’s never been selfish. But to love it like this? God no one tastes like you.

You’re falling apart now, he can feel it, when you’re mumbling incoherently, sniffling, thighs squeezing his head, just urging him on more and more, as he drinks your sticky clear cum all up. Your sounds are filling his ears, mixing with the racing of his damn pulse, his cock oozing precum and making him sticky. He could cum just eating your pussy.

Fuck, he thinks he’s already in love with you.

“M’gonna, Sukuna I’m c–close I…” You’re whispering, pulling at his hair, as the sensation of him devouring you takes over, and he smirks up at you then, pulling off for the first breath you’ve seen the man take.

Is he human even!?

“Cum all over m’face, be a good girl, huh brat?” You nod weakly, fuck you need no urging to cum, but you needed to know it was okay, you want and crave his permission for some insane reason.

When he’s back buried against you, your body convulses, all this pressure in your tummy letting go, until your orgasm has your back arching, has your pussy drenching his handsome face. Sukuna’s moaning, hands tightly gripping your hips, drinking every bit of your arousal that pools, as your cunt now pulses around his tongue, and you’re crying it feels so good.

The orgasm breaks your brain, whatever was left of it from him, you can’t remember ever even having a damn thought but this. You’re whining his name out over and over as he pulls back grinning so damn sexy and arrogant from between your thighs, lapping his tongue up to your clit now, and you scream out hoarsely as he bites your little clit.

“Oh m-my god, f-fuck it’s too much!” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he slips two fingers back in your hole, now soaked and sucking them up so easy, as your pussy drools down his hand to his rings, to his rolex.

“You’re so messy, huh? Look at you, all over me, all over these seats, fuck.” He huffs, enamored with how wet he has you, and your eyes struggle to look down, you squeak a bit, so cute he smiles.

“I’m s-so sorry I’m n-never, Sukuna I’m gonna cum again, fuck!” He curls his fingers in your slick walls, you hear the lewd sound of the squelching wetness in the limo now, it’s obscene, mixing with his moans as he flicks his tongue on the underside of your clit. “Ah s’good-mnh!”

“Cum again for me, lemme drink you all up, messy girl.” You’re coming undone for him, with each flick of his tongue as he now presses up his fingers on that spongy little spot, and you see stars behind eyes as they roll back in your skull. It’s so good you’re crying as he rides out your second orgasm, slurping sounds of Sukuna drinking you even louder, just making it headier.

“Mnh… ngh… ah…” You’re unable to form a word, a twitching mess under him, while he licks more of your slick off his lower lip, grinning down at the mess he’s made you, your pretty face covered in tears and drool.

“Ah, look at you baby, so fucked out, don’t even have my dick yet, hmm?” He taunts now, fingers scissoring in and out as he leans over you, cupping your face with his other hand now.

“Want it, want it.” You’re reaching for him as he hisses, losing control once you find his bulge over his pants, kissing you again, now you taste yourself, making you lap the arousal off his lips, as you’re eagerly unbuckling him, for the limo to stop. He takes a breath, pausing your hand then, wrapping you back in his jacket and adjusting you, as you cling to him eagerly. “Need you.”

“Fuck if I don’t need you, driving me insane.” He grumbles, adjusting himself then, and soon you’re in the elevator, kissing again, riding up to Sukuna’s penthouse, you have your phone going off and he scowls at it. “Better not be him.”

“It may be Miwa.” You take a breath as you look at the phone, smiling then, it’s just a little picture of Touma happily grinning with a cookie, you show Sukuna, and he sees your damn face light up, making him falter a bit.

God you’re beautiful lit up.

Sukuna would do anything to keep you this way.

“He’s getting spoiled. Sukuna, thank you for this… I was so worried, being away for a night but… I can’t wait.” You say softly, as you step inside, you barely get to look around however, because he’s pressing you against a wall, leaning low and grinning now, white teeth glinting under soft white lights from the high ceiling.

“I hope you can keep up with me, brat.” He says, before picking you up in his arms like you’re nothing, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck. “You’re getting no sleep tonight.”

Kuna is so in love already aha. Part three coming soon (just like Kuna about to lol) There will be a LOT more drama and plot along with some freaky ass smut and a whole fuck session next chap. If you wanna get tagged and aren't already on one of the lists just lmk - also omg ty for the love on the first part!?!?!

If you're interested in Satoru from this here's his headcanons so far

Taglist #1 - @naammiii @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @uhnosav @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @waterfal-ling @the-dark-creature @lulunx @minaa-06 @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua

Buy me a glass of wine🍷 - Gen Masterlist - ©All works by Madamechrissy you may not reproduce

[prlssprfctn]

I need more of Jason's and Lois's duo, so here is my humble little scenario — Jason accidentally starts writing articles under her wing after being back from dead.

It starts like this: Bruce kinda announces the rest of the League that the Second Robin is alive, and in fact, Red Hood is him. It is confusing as fuck, but honestly, at this point, everyone is used to Batman's antics, so they just nod along. Clark decides to casually drop the news to Lois, too.

Clark: Do you remember the Second Robin?

Lois, without getting distracted from her work: Oh, of course. Batman asked my autograph for him once. And he mailed me a few of his writing stories once. He was such a talented kid.

Clark: He is alive again!

Lois: Oh.

Lois, pausing and glaring thoughtfully at her computer: ...Do you think he is still into writing?

So, Lois reaches out to Jason, suggesting to try writing again because the Daily Planet needs more talented people, and she can't find anyone normal for months now. And Jason accepts. They end up choosing him a pen name, and it goes just... perfectly. Lois is glad that someone matches her enthusiasm and does the job perfectly, Jason is in awe about working with his second favourite woman alive (after Wonderwoman, of course) and doing the thing he likes.

Jason, irritated as fuck, calling Lois: Hey. I don't know if you have seen the latest president's meeting, but, please, tell me that I can—

Lois: Yeah, son. Drag his ASS. I will deal with the rest.

Jason: Don't tell anyone, but you are my favourite Super.

Lois: Don't tell anyone either, but you are my favourite Bat.

Lois: Now, on a completely unrelated note, do you think Red Hood can assassinate the president—

Naturally, Jason doesn't intend to tell anyone about his new job. No one suspects a thing anyway, and he is working from home, expect for times, when he visits Lois to hang out. Everything is fine.

Until Tim.

Tim, coming for dinner at Kents, by Kon's invitation: Hey, everyone— Jason?

Jason, who is giggling with Lois about their the most hated coworker: Uh. No?

Tim: JASON!

So, Tim knows now. He agrees not to tell anyone, but it doesn't mean that he is not going to tease Jason subtly around others. As usual.

Tim, casually, during the family breakfast: By the way, had you guys read articles in Daily Planet recently? Their new writer is fire.

Jason, tensing up: ...

Bruce: Really? Which one?

Tim, smiling politely: Oh, his name is Peter Austen. His writing style is SO good, and he is always SO on point, I ADORE him.

Jason, half-flustered, half-irritated: (gesturing Tim to shut up)

Bruce: I'll check his articles later today, then. Jaylad, had you read any of it?

Jason, grumpy as hell: You know me. I only read that crap for Lois.

Tim: That's a shame. Because I love this man SO MUCH.

(On the other side of table)

Dick, whistling: Damn, I think Lil Wing is jealous.

Damian, nodding: Todd definitely wishes he could be Drake's favourite writer.

[no-144444]

accepting it- c.leclerc

summary: charles has been a bit too distant during your pregnancy, and what max said about his own child brought some ugly truths to the surface, hurting you in the process. charles realises his mistake, but it's just too late for you to believe him.

pairing: husband! charles leclerc x fem! pregnant! wife! reader

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The quiet unlocking of the door was what had woken you, Charles was sure of it. He hadn’t wanted to, mostly because he knew he’d say something stupid and piss you off. He wouldn’t mean to, but he would. That’s what the start of the season was, that’s what becoming a father was, that’s what the stress did to him. 

“Hey handsome,” you smiled sleepily from the coach, all bundled up in blankets as some random Netflix series played on the screen. 

“Hey beautiful,” he exhaled harshly, then turned to you, (fake) smiling. “You alright?”

You nodded. “Just tired,” you yawned. “Want to head to bed?”

He nodded with a groan. “Yes, please.” 

He helped you up off the couch and it hit him how close you were to giving birth. You were in the third trimester, heavily pregnant with a slightly complicated pregnancy. He grimaced when he saw you grabbing your back in pain. 

“Alright?” he asked as you winced. 

You took a deep breath and continued on to your bedroom. “Fine,” you said through gritted teeth, the pain easing. 

He led you over to your side of the bed and helped you lie down. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and turned out the lights, ready to sink into his side of the bed after his exhausting day. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He woke up to the sound of vomiting. It wasn’t usual to hear, but it had gotten less frequent as the pregnancy went on. “You alright baby?” he called out. 

His question was met with more vomiting. He huffed as he pulled himself out of bed and walked to the bathroom, looking at you hunched over the toilet. He frowned and knelt beside you, holding your hair. After another few minutes the vomiting stopped and you looked up at him, exhausted and sick. 

“Feels any better?” he asked. You shook your head and he frowned again, pulling you into his chest. He smoothed a hand through your hair as you leant against him, trying to calm yourself down. “It’s alright,” he soothed. “You’re alright.” 

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Brunch was going to be hell on earth for both of you, but you still both dressed up and got in the car, pretending to be excited about the family luncheon. 

“Can you believe Max said he wouldn’t miss a race for the birth of his baby?” you scoffed, scrolling through your phone as Charles drove to his mother’s house. “Poor Kelly.”

Charles gulped beside you. He’d been dreading this conversation for weeks, unsure when to have it. It’s not that he didn’t want to be there for the birth of his child, he did, badly, but he couldn’t throw away championship points for anything. He’d make an exception if it was a sprint race, but other than that… he couldn’t chance it. “Well, he has a good reason to,” he shrugged nervously. 

You turned your head to him, shock painting your features. “Are you joking right now?” 

Charles shrugged. “Not really. He’s the World Champion and he needs to stay on top this year, especially if it’s his last year, which he’s thinking it might be. I understand where he’s coming from.”

You were both quiet for a minute, taking in what he’d said. 

“So what about us?” you asked in a small voice. 

“You’re due on a non-race week,” he shrugged. “We just hope she doesn’t come earlier than that.” 

He didn’t dare look over at you, scared of what he might see. He knew this was selfish, but he couldn’t piss away his chance at being champion, not when he’d worked his entire life for it, not when his parents, family, and friends gave up so much.  

“Oh,” you breathed out, trying to stop yourself from crying. “Alright then.” 

The rest of the car ride was silent, you watched the streets of Monaco whip by you as Charles drove up to his mother’s house, and you thought. Thought about giving birth alone. Thought about how Charles had promised you he’d be there. Thought about how shitty it felt to be second to his job. You wiped your unshed tears away before you walked inside.

When you walked inside, Pascale instantly knew something was wrong. Charlotte immediately took you away to chat together, and Lorenzo was too busy giving out to Arthur about breaking up with Jade to notice, but Pascale noticed. She saw the way Charles watched you from across the room, trying desperately to catch your eye, to gauge your reaction, something. 

She pulled him aside. “What’s wrong?” 

He sighed. “Maman, it’s nothing-”

“What did you say to your wife?” he demanded. He looked down, ashamed. He knew he was in the wrong, but he still felt justified, though that justification was slowly dwindling. 

“We were talking about how Max wouldn’t miss a race for his baby, and I said I’d do the same,” he admitted. 

“Excuse me?” Lorenzo inserted himself in the conversation. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Arthur was even looking at him in disgust, Arthur. “Charles, that’s not right-” 

“You don’t get to talk, alright?” he shot at his younger brother, who quietened out of shock. “And what else am I supposed to do? Every single year in Formula One I feel the championship falling away from me! Y/n understands-”

“She shouldn’t have to,” Pascale interjected. “Do you want that little girl? The one your wife has been carrying without complaint for 8 months?” 

Charles nodded vigorously. “Of course I do-!” 

“So you should be there for the woman who’s carrying her! She has been pregnant basically on her own for the past 8 months, either you were racing, or training, or enjoying your break - which meant doing extreme sports that she cannot do! That woman loves you too much to see how you’ve been treating her, and it’s sad, Charles. She does everything for you, and you’re even entertaining the idea of not being there for her while she goes through possibly one of the most painful experiences of her life? Are you insane?” she argued, shocked at her own son's selfishness. “If you cannot see that the woman you love is more important than a race win, you should really just let Y/n go and find a man that actually loves her. Not one who is more focused on his personal goals than the goals of his family. Your father and I raised you to be a racer, yes, but first and foremost we raised you to be a good person. And being a good person means being a good husband and father to your family, which is just starting.” 

Charles stood there for a moment in silence, ashamed of his behaviour. “You’re right.” 

“I know I am,” she scoffed. “Go make it right with Y/n, now.” 

Charles scurried off to find you in the garden with Charlotte, she had her arms around you as you explained everything that had happened, how distant Charles had been, what he’d said about the birth, everything. Charlotte sent him a particularly withering look as he stepped out into the sun, and he knew he deserved it. 

“Can I talk to my wife?” he asked, standing behind you. 

“She’s busy right now Charles,” Charlotte scoffed. “I’m just trying to calm her down from crying. Come back later.” 

His heart broke slightly, he knew you’d been taking the burden of the baby a lot more than he had (obviously), and he thought he was being gracious by not bringing it up. He thought he was doing the right thing by giving you space, but he was just subconsciously trying to ignore the fact that his life was going to change drastically and that he was scared. Still, he never thought he’d be the one to make you cry. 

“Please,” he begged. 

You gave Charlotte a nod, and she smiled at you sadly, then left you to talk. He took the seat she had been sitting in and placed a hand on your thigh. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m ruining the whole day.” 

His heart actually broke then. He was being a dick, he was in the wrong, and you were apologising. What the actual fuck? He shook his head, squeezing your thigh. “No. If anyone ruined today, it was me. My selfishness has been ruining this entire pregnancy for you,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.” 

You stared up at him in shock. 

“You’ve been doing this on your own since day one, and that’s my personal failing. I’m sorry that I was so… distant. I was busy getting in my own head about my career, when the most important thing was right in front of me. I’m sorry, and I hope you’ll forgive me,” he took your hand and squeezed, looking at the ground. 

“Charles, I know what I signed up for when I married you,” you admitted, dropping his hand. “I know you’re ambitious, I know you want to win, and I know you won’t stop until you’re the best. Sometimes it just… gets to me that I’m not enough for you, that our family isn’t enough for you. It’s just… hard sometimes, alright? And if I’m being honest this is a bit too much too late. I know my place in your life, and I’ve accepted it. I just hope you prioritise our daughter more than you prioritise me,” you tearfully explained before getting up and going back inside. 

Was that really the standard he’d set for the love of his life? Surely not?  He had to fix this, and quick.

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navigation for my blog :)

ferrari masterlist

[todayisafridaynight]

class was Basically cancelled today so im looking at the next two sabu ttm movies i wanted to watch and i stg sabu really does love putting ttm in bad situations <- this is a good thing

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

addicted to you | spencer reid x reader

Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.

part 1 | part 2 - insatiable

wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)

You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 

Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 

While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.

Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.

With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 

“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 

“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”

His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”

You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”

Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.

“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”

Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”

“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 

Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”

“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”

“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”

You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”

Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”

You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”

His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”

You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 

Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 

You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 

He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 

This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 

“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”

Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 

Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 

Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 

“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”

“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”

Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”

“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 

You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.

So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 

Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 

“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”

He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.

“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.

Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”

“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”

He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.

Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”

“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 

“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.

“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”

Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”

You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”

You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 

He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”

“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”

“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 

“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”

Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 

“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”

Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 

“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”

“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”

Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”

“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”

Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 

His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 

Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”

“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 

Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.

“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”

“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”

“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”

“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 

You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 

You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.

“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”

“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 

Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”

That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.

Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 

You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 

You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 

In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 

“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”

“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”

“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 

He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 

Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”

Your eyes widen. “Now?”

“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”

Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 

“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”

“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 

“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”

“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.

“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”

“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.

“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.

“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 

“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”

“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 

His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 

“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 

Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.

His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.

It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.

Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”

“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.

“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”

“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”

“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”

Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.

“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 

“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 

“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”

“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.

You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”

“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 

Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”

Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”

“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”

You grin. “You’re the best!”

Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 

So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 

Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.

“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.

“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.

Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–

“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”

“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 

“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”

“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”

You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”

“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 

“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”

Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”

“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.

Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 

“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 

“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.

Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”

Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”

His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”

He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 

With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 

“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”

Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”

“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”

Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.

“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.

You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.

You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 

He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 

Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”

“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”

“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 

While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”

Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”

“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”

You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 

Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 

“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”

His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”

You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”

Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 

[willyoubemycherryy]

Intimacy Cues (C. Kent)

Summary: Who better to teach you how to talk body when you never learned the language?

Contains: smut AND plot so it’s long,depressing past, the college au you all secretly needed, struggles with physical touch, struggles with any form of intimacy, one mild panic attack, Clark is understanding but hot, dumb ideas, hugging, bonding, kissing, making out, it starts off shaky then soft but quickly snowballs into horn-e central, size kink, slight dumbification, strength kink, first kisses, virginity kept but not for long just give me till the second part, Clark is a little infatuated, they’re so nasty about each other my word, grinding, kissing (no forreal), prayer bc we all need it

A/N- my stomach is fine, it wasn’t a tumor but a blockage because of something I ate that never digested, causing my tummy to bloat and swell but they fixed me up so I’m back😈

. .* ੈ✩‧₊•

“Nononono- no, stop!!”

This might be the worst decision of your entire life.

Clark pulls away again, looking down at you with his eyebrows drawn together in concern but also exasperation because-

“Hey! It’s okay- you’re okay. Remember…you were the one who asked for my help.” He didn’t say the obvious “but we’re not getting any farther” part out loud but it echoes through your head all the same and you breathe out a deep sigh; regretting it with the depths of your very being but, yes. You did ask him for his help.

Help with what? The answer would’ve ended your social life if anyone who wasn’t Clark had found out.

You needed his help with…closeness- intimacy.

Growing up you were always awkward. Not in a charming way or even unconventional, you just simply didn’t make the cut based by society’s standards. You were always too gangly, too weird, too timid; so imagine the surprise come middle of highschool to now college where you’ve finally grown into yourself.

You know how you like to dress and which clothes look hottest on you, you know what hairstyle suits best for your face shape, you’re still weird but you’re also sarcastic which somehow equals charm to people and you’ve also managed to come out of your shell a bit. Becoming more confident from people naturally gravitating towards you after your blooming stage and even more after letting your friends convince you to join your college’s cheerleading team. You’d become everything you wanted to always try.

Pretty, popular, and fun. The problem?

Thanks to how much of a late bloomer you were, you never got the chance to get comfortable with others intimately during your formative years. Nobody liked you in that way and you were terrified of embarrassing yourself so there was nothing. No first kiss, no first dance with a boy, hell- even now you still get uneasy when others stare at you too long. Hiding behind your image as a college sweetheart made everything you were still to unsettled to try easier. Don’t misunderstand; it wasn’t that you never wanted those things, it’s that you’re not used to others suddenly picking you for those kinds of things after being invisible and missing out on them for almost all your life to the point where you don’t know how to deal with it when those moments do happen.

Still, you acted like everything was fine.

Playing the role of pretty cheerleader- the flirty tease that was favored by many even though that favor was shallow as a tear on a hot day. You pretended. And it was working, nobody knew…or so you believed.

Cue to one of the football teams parties where you’d been flirting with a guy, coy smile painted on your face as you giggled softly whenever he spoke, batting your pretty eyes at him in your little mini skirt. It had been going well until he suddenly leaned closer, focusing solely on you and when you felt the heat of his skin from how close he was- it felt as if the color had drained from your face, leaving you frozen as you became so uncomfortable it was visible; nerves screaming at you to flee until you listened. Spinning on your heels and bolting, trying to calm your breathing enough to will the cotton out of your ears.

You didn’t realize it then but a certain pair of blue eyes had been watching the whole thing. He’s always seen you. Which is funny because you almost always actively avoid him. In fact, he’s seen you enough to know that this isn’t the first time you’ve had that reaction and one day after a particularly rough week of endless pondering over you; he decides to just ask you after practice is over. Clark waits until his and your friends leave, it being only you and him on the field when he starts to walk over to you. The sound of incoming footsteps make you look up and when you see him, he can hear the very second your heart stops; skipping a beat before it quickly begins to thrum out of rhythm.

Honestly, there genuinely are not enough words to describe how attractive Clark Kent was. He was so incomprehensibly beautiful that you avoided Clark altogether just to avoid getting a headache from staring at him for too long especially since the real suffering started when he’d smile. Seemingly perfect pearly white straight teeth but when his grin broadened, his sharp canines would show, leaving you breathless every time. The type of good looking that was flat out overwhelming. Besides being apart of adjacent stereotypes, you two didn’t go together but there was no animosity.

Clark stops and you have to look up at him because of his hulking size. At almost 6’4 he nearly dwarfed you and his proportions matched. Thick, beefy everything- everywhere and you swallow before forcing a smile on your face. While you preferred to avoid him for the sake of keeping yourself out of the psych ward from how crazy he could drive you; you were still curious as to why he came to talk to you. He takes a moment to just look at you, cerulean eyes almost glowing but he doesn’t realize how intense his stare is until you start to shuffle on your feet- dainty hands twitching nervously at your side and that’s when he speaks.

“Hey…I know we don’t usually talk or anything but are you okay?” Even his voice is dreamy but confusion draws on your face because you felt fine; nervous, like you were around any guy you thought was cute, but fine. Clark elaborates at your expression,

“Y’know because of what happened at the party last-”, that seems to jog your memory enough to snap you out of it, eyebrows shooting up as dread overtakes over your face. You whip your head around, making sure there’s no witnesses when you grab him by his sweaty shirt, dragging him all the way behind the bleachers as you slam him against the metal. Clark is caught so off guard that he just lets it happen; lets the pretty thing half his size drag him as you pleased. Your eyes shift as you glare up at him.

You’re positive he’s talking about your little freak out with close proximity guy, the one that made you leave the party completely; walking so fast you nearly burned a trail in the carpet. Heart pounding, you start to spiral.

He wasn’t supposed to see that. He like everyone else- was supposed to be too drunk to notice anything.

Your nose scrunches, full lips curling in a snarl. “I swear if you say anything to anyone-!” You’re threatening him so fast, Clark falters, raising his hands in defense, debilitating blue eyes widening as he starts to plead his case.

“No no-! I didn’t! I-“, He stutters at your harsh gaze, the feel of your hands soaking through his shirt, warming his chest. He needs to hurry up and explain himself before you start disliking him. “I was just worried! Whenever I see you and a guy, even if you act interested-“, he rushes out, panting as he talks even faster, “the second they get too close you look like you’ll vomit!” Your hostility melts into shock and even more confusion and you let go of his shirt, stepping back as you study him, his words stuck in your mind.

“How..? Are you- you’ve been paying that close attention to me? When do you even see me?” You’re at such a loss for words that it’s hard to string them together to properly question him.

“…I”, he swallows harshly, “I always see you.” It’s pure adrenaline that motors his mouth- he thought he was over the time when lovely faced girls made him nervous but you were unexpectedly feisty. It lit something tingly in him. Your eyes search his face and he spills. “I see how you flirt but you’re sarcastic too. Everyone is so taken by your pretty that they don’t even notice, they just call it ‘wit”, he manages to catch his breath enough to sound less panicked now that you look like you won’t kill him, “I see how even though you’re a flyer, you hate heights-”

“H-how-?”

“Your right leg shakes when they lift you, no matter how stable your base is.” Your mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out, heart racing when his voice goes soft,

“But what I’m saying is- so what that you’re not really what you give off? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. ‘Jus curious why you think it is…”, he blinks those long lashes at you and you find yourself explaining the tale of your sordid social past.

By the end of it he’s stunned speechless.

You? Just how bad was your awkward phase for nobody to be interested in you? Wait so that also probably meant that-

“You’re a virgin?!”

You slap your hands over his mouth with a speed equal to his own, face flushed as you shush him, hissing in a low whisper.

“Jesus Chri- shut up! Are you trying to tell the entire campus?!!” You let out another heavy sigh.

“…yes, I am”. You let your hands fall to the side, refusing to look at him while he’s trying to process; silence filling the space between you. You’ve accepted that your ego will never recover from the most gorgeous being on the planet knowing about all your…truths. That you looked and acted the part of a vixen just to hide that you secretly weren’t.

“…so you’ve never done anyt-”,

“No.”

Well then.

You can’t take another long drag of awkward silence, turning to face the boy who knew you probably more than anyone else did.

“Look- I would’ve loved to remedy this but I-”

“Can’t stomach whenever a guy gets too close due to previous deep rooted societal wrought insecurities…” Bingo.

“Well for what it’s worth,” he gives you one of his disarming grins and a flush creeps up your neck; warming your ears, “I think you’re doing fine now.” You snap your head down to see that you two are standing fairly close or at least closer than you normally allow and you don’t have that itch to get him as far away from you as possible. That’s when you get the idea that- “Oh my god! You can help me get over my thing! This is perfect!”! You’re practically vibrating with glee, excited to finally have all your firsts without that looming of touch related dread haunting you. Clark however is swarmed with various images of him “helping” you and can’t keep his ears from reddening at all the different scenarios where he’d be required to be close to you and begins to stutter.

“W-well, I wa- not that I-! I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean w-we-”, you cut him off before he can weasel out of it, eyebrows creasing in frustration. You unconsciously step closer, your sweet smell bathes his senses as he stares you down, trying not to gulp too hard. “Please, Clark?”, you start and he swallows harshly at how his name sounds in that whiny tone from your lips.

“It can’t be anyone else because you’re the only one who knows! We’re not close now but we could be-“, and the double meaning makes him tune out completely as he only watches your plump lips move; not even registering the sound coming from them. He was thankful you didn’t ask him why he watched you so closely because the answer was one he wasn’t ready to even admit to himself.

Your lips stop moving after a while and them paired with your begging doe eyes make him cave, Clark nodding in hopeless defeat. He was supposed to be over the influence of pretty girls.

“S’okay, I’ll help you out. Your secret’s safe with me.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in a lopsided smile that was somehow both attractive but made you feel safe and you smile shyly back. You were nervous but you know Clark is a good guy- reckless as hell with his charms- but a good guy. What could go wrong?

•

•

•

Standing in the middle of your dorm room with your arms wound tight around yourself is when you find out that alot can go wrong.

Clark came over and you two came up with a starting plan that seemed the easiest: talk and slowly close the distance between you two until he was touching and looking at you without you getting uncomfortable or pushing him away. It sounded simple enough at first only…. you severely underestimated how you’d react to Clark. The way his deep mellow voice sounded in your ears, how he always held such steady eye contact as he moved towards you, that heavenly jawline tilting when he’d think too long. Already, Clark was big from afar but up close he was even bigger. Strong arms and broad shoulders; chest so thick it was noticeable through his shirt. You were used to others falling at your feet but Clark stood fine and it affected you in ways you didn’t prepare to deal with, so you tried to do what you always did- ignore it.

Matching Clark’s light conversation as you two eventually get more comfortable, gradually gravitating towards each other with slow short steps. The air shifts when you exhale and the breath tickles his chest. This is when you normally get squeamish but you merely hesitate for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and pushing yourself by letting him keep his distance.

His hand twitch and he shuffles a bit closer, biceps flexing as he reaches out, resting his hands on your shoulders; your conversation quiets as he stares at you with perfectly blue lidded eyes and then you feel the stirrings of restlessness under your skin. That impeding urge to get away. Despite the way you feel, the slow atmosphere helps you tremendously to not pull away but your pulse spikes all the same. His hands felt nice. You take another deep breath as you try to come to terms with what you were feeling.

Clark was a guy.

A guy who was standing in your bubble, touching you- looking at you.

A million emotions fly across your face at record speed and Clark doesn’t move any more for the next couple minutes. No, he waits for you; large rough palms warm on your bare shoulders while his pinky idly messes with the thin strap of your top. Your skin was soft. The heavy rise and fall of your chest has him focusing on you more intensely, trying to get a read on how you felt until you break the silence with a shaky exhale.

“We can keep going- you can keep touching me.” He knows you don’t mean it that way but his ears burn anyways as he nods. Taking a second to think before taking his hands off you to take yours, ignoring your big eyes look as he places your hands around his waist- inevitably moving closer and his voice softens like he’ll frighten you away if he were to speak any louder.

“You can touch me too. Promise I don’t mind…this is for you after all.” You suppress a whine because being so close was already hard with you fighting every instinct yelling at you to get gone and go somewhere where nobody could comprehend you but now with Clark staring at you like that, it was even harder. Your eyes flick about the room as you flatten your palms more against his back, mentally rolling your eyes back at how his muscles feel. You don’t even realize you’re biting your lip but Clark does, instantly alert the second he felt your small hands nervously press against him, his eyes zeroed in on the swollen skin dipping under the pressure of your teeth. He feels bad because while he was supposed to be helping you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy you were being so shy but hardheaded enough to build up the grit to go for what scared you because you wanted it.

Without taking his eyes off your face, he rubs his hands up to your neck, making you squeak before smoothing them back down your shoulders; repeating the motions with a gentle hum.

The room feels hot- you felt hot and jittery but it’s too much. Unable to keep the waves at bay, goosebumps trickle over your skin and your eyes scrunch in panic as your breathing picks up. He was close. Close and touching you. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you know when you do, you’ll be naked for all to see and you scream.

“Stop!”

Nobody can see you-nobody’s supposed to be seeing you, the girl who was never even chose last as you were overlooked entirely no matter how badly you wanted to reach out. Maybe that’s what started your fear. Maybe you were scared of losing experiences because of rejection.

Clark doesn’t move away but he isn’t touching you anymore and you aren’t touching him as your hands fly to the sides of your head, trying to calm yourself down and guilt pours over him. He wants to hug you; comfort you but he knows that pulling you against him in a hug will only worsen things right now so he waits. Closing his eyes to help you feel at ease, listening closely to the beat of your heart until your breaths quiet and he hears it fluctuate back to normal. He keeps his eyes closed until he feels your small trembling hands slide back around him and instead of putting his hands on your shoulders, he moves his arms around them; resting them against your back but not pulling you in yet. It’s quiet besides the hushed sounds of him cooing at you and your breathing. The air now has an underlying current and you shift in his heavy arms, inhaling deeply as you finally look up at his face. Shyly, you cut the silence; voice soft as how you feel.

“…you can open your eyes now..” Clark feels his own heart speed up before he responds, low tone matching yours and electricity hits you when it clicks. This is intimate.

“Are you okay? We can stop and try again some other time; I don’t wanna upset-,”

“I want you to look at me.”

His eyes pop open at your command, peering down at you in such a way that your breath catches; anxiousness rising up you again but you stay right where you are. Willing yourself to embrace the exposed way he makes you feel.

Under the heat of his stare it’s like he’s seeing everything you’ve ever hid or been but his hold is steady enough to let you know he’s there with you and he’s not going anywhere. You still feel naked but more than that, you feel safe. Comfortable enough to not shy away from his warmth, you take another breath; looking up at him through your lashes- making his head fuzzy.

His eyes shift from their usual blue to the shade of the sea after a storm and you’re swept away, logic going with you as you slowly glide your hands up his sides to his where his arms hold you. Feeling every dip and curve of his strong build until you reach his hands, repositioning them around your lower back. You move closer but because you two were already standing so close- your chests touch and Clark stops breathing. The soft swell of your breasts move against his body with your every inhale and he finds his senses filled with you.

Your gaze is torn away when you turn your head, looking down as you drop against his chest. Arms looping around him making his own instinctively curl around you, holding you tight to the firm but soft muscle of his chest. You both pause for a few minutes- waiting for the urgent panic but it never comes. Instead, you melt into him with a relieved sigh, warm breath bleeding into his shirt. You two were officially hugging.

And you were in heaven.

You never knew close contact with the opposite gender could be so delightful. Clark was just so big and warm and smelled so good, you bury your face into the meat of his pec almost deliriously, sighing happily. Fuck, you really had been missing out. His arms are firm and heavy against your back, effectively locking you against him. The endorphin rush hitting you has you practically purring; the sounds of your bliss vibrating Clark’s chest and he smiles, letting you get your fix as he enjoys the way you fit into his arms.

Unsurprisingly, you two stay like that for a while. Fitted against each other in the silence of your cozy bedroom. He sees the top of your head move and he’s suddenly looking into your eyes, pupils blown so wide that your eyes are black. Clark has to bite his lip to keep from smiling at how cute you look. Your eyes flit down to his mouth to see the peek of his fangs that always show, letting out a small breathy ‘oh’ when you do. You’re still reeling in all the best ways as you rest your chin against his chest, unabashedly looking at his handsome face.

Clark raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the phantom hearts in your eyes and the way your small feet are standing on top of his larger ones while you make no attempt to separate your bodies, completely content with his proximity. He likes you so he likes your closeness and he’s even more elated that you seem to like him being so close too. Speaking lowly so he doesn’t disturb you, he checks if you’re still on the planet with him.

“This okay, sweetheart? Y’enjoying yourself?” The petname slips out but you don’t move or rush to correct him as your blood simmers, a numbingly pleasant heat washing over you so strong it’s hard to think. Running your hands in a slow caress up his back, you feel the muscles flex as his arm twitches and a smile grows on your face as you blink dumbly- brain currently taking a break, you mumble sweetly,

“Mmhm, yeah never better.”

And it’s true. You’ve never felt this safe, this free with anyone that wasn’t immediate family or your best girl friends. He was touching you and seeing you but you didn’t care because you knew whatever he was seeing and touching, was safe as it would ever be with him.

Clark huffs out a laugh at your belated response, moving one of his hands in a warm caress up your back, feeling you shiver and he bites his lip again. You were so alluring without even having to try and he breathes to reign himself in since he was currently the first and only to have you melting like this from a hug alone. If a hug got you like this he could only imagine how beautifully you’d respond to-

“Um, C-Clark?” Your soft voice brings him back as he hums, flicking his eyes down lazily at you.

“Yeah, baby?” Your sweet little gasp makes him realize that he just called you another nickname but you don’t seem to mind, flustering prettily in his arms. He leans down closer to your face, only to hear you better, eyes patient as he stares at you.

“I know this is supposed to be about me but how do you feel? You’ve been so good with me..I just wanna make sure you’re okay too.” Clark smiles, moved that you’re worrying about him even with all his experience.

“Yeah I feel good but how about you? Want me to let go or we can try something different?” He would’ve asked if you wanted to stop but he was going off your body language and it was telling him distance was the last thing you wanted and he was right as you shook your head before resting your chin back into his chest, looking up at him with those pupil eclipsed doe eyes.

“I feel great but…”, your voice gets smaller as it takes on an almost needy tone before stopping altogether. You snap your face back into his chest and he’s even more curious to get it out of you but you just can’t say it.

“You really don’t need to be embarrassed. Clothed or naked, we all start somewhere”, he whispers against the top of your head, stroking your back soothingly as you try to talk yourself into asking him before you chicken out, “with me you can start wherever you want and you know I’ll never tell. Or make fun of you..”,

His voice is tender with warmness and it turns your reservations to raindrops as you look back into his eyes. Steeling your nerve, you ground yourself with the way you feel in another persons arms for the first time in your life- his arms and decide to go for it.

“You said- we can try something different?” Your heart begins to race again as Clark’s starts to pound. He can’t keep the heat out of eyes as he returns your stare, nodding.

“Yeah. We can do whatever you want.” His breath wafts across your face, forehead resting against yours and the rate at which you find yourself needing him- scares you. You’ve been depraved of this kind of contact to the point of fear since forever but now…

“Then…can we-“, you blink rapidly, not wanting to verbalize it but not wanting to go without even more.

“Can we kiss please?”

Clark has to shut his eyes. You looked so sweet, felt so soft and even though you couldn’t keep the neediness from seeping into your words, you still asked so politely. Blood rushes through his ears as he feels a familiar stirring in his groin, taking a deep breath because it wouldn’t do for him to lose control now, his voice is heady with pure want when he answers,

“F’course. I’d love to kiss, baby.”

Large hands settle around your waist as you get pulled completely flush to him, legs almost intertwining while your pelvises touch; bodies glued together. The languid heat of arousal thrums through you, making your head spin.

Your lips part when Clark presses his forehead more firmly against yours, lighting you from the inside out when he dips his neck to slot his open mouth over yours.

Immediately your chest burns, heart feeling like each pump is gasoline, fueling the fire hes started in you. Clark’s full lips slide against yours, alternating between suckling at your top lip then bottom lip slowly, coaxing you to follow his lead, groaning his approval and the sound turns you up as you press yourself harder against his body. You feel so good you’re thrumming- heat steadily pulsing through you.

Your heads move from how hard you’re kissing, slick sounds coming from your mouths intensifying as you get rougher, delicious shivers all up your spine. Clark presses his lips fully against yours, moving them open wider with his own, hot breaths mingling as he licks hotly against the opening of your mouth. A bolt of pleasure hits you so hard that you gasp, wrenching your mouth off his as you moan- the needy little thing so whiny it makes his cock fatten in his pants as you pant against each others lips. Fuck. He can smell how wet you are. The sweet, heady smell makes his mouth water with him tossing shame clean out the window.

“Can I put my tongue in your mouth? Please, pretty girl?” You move your arms around his neck to get as close as possible, nodding desperately.

“God, yes-!” His mouth is back to consuming yours before you finish. Opening your lips with the force of his swollen ones, he sucks your bottom lip before lapping his tongue into your mouth. You twitch in his hold, even more turned on when he doesn’t have to move to keep your squirming in place, casual show of strength making you lightheaded as he swallows your moans. Wet smacks fill the air, your grip on him tightening when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You get wetter and he can tell, growling in pleasure as he suddenly lifts you; your legs locking around his waist as he uses his hold on yours to grind you against him. The result is instantaneous. You melt like cotton candy, chest shaking against his from your pleasured moans as your shared spit wets your lips. Still aware of the fact that you need to breathe, Clark pulls away with a suck of your lips- staring at you hungrily with dark eyes.

He can’t even remember when he picked you up but the tiny undulations of your hips let him know it was a welcome decision. You looked so good. Lips puffy n slick, doe eyes teary and blown out, wet as fuck with your hard nipples poking through your top…you could ask him for every one of Saturns rings and he’d get them for you.

Clark takes a deep lungful of your tantalizing scent before he checks on you again.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’first kiss right?” You nod, cupping his face. You can’t help the way you smooch more pecks onto his pink lips, aching as you answer.

“It was so good”, you drag your nose down his jaw; kissing his ear as you whisper into it, “you feel so good, Clark..”. You have him completely hard at this point, thick and fat as his tip oozes pre when you start to whine. He almost feels bad that you’ve waited so long, being so pent up wasn’t good and you deserved to feel good everyday.

“What’s wrong baby?” The low timbre of his voice makes your pulse skyrocket, causing you to absolutely dissolve against him, hips twitching as he helped you rub yourself on him.

“I-I need..-“, you let out a soft cry and he quickly soothes you. Kissing you deeply before pulling away, licking his lips of your taste as he verbalizes exactly what you need.

“Need to cum?”

The heat in your chest blooms up to your face as you nod, suddenly growing shy but still comfortable. You purr as Clark presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, looking at you with pretty lidded eyes.

“Would it be okay if I made you cum princess?”

The utterly wrecked moan that comes out of your mouth has goosebumps scattering up his arms, holding you tighter as you nod vigorously.

“I need words baby”, he whispers. Giving you another kiss to tempt you and it works. He was too irresistible and he knew it.

“Yeah, you can make me cum Clark.” And with that he carries you over to your bed, laying you on the plushness as he takes over your mouth again with a hungry groan, your hands touching everywhere until he pulls away- fangs on display as he smiles making fire sweep through your veins.

Massaging your legs, he rises on his knees- taking off his shirt as your mind checks out from how hot he is, shifting restlessly as the ache in your pussy throbs with the best pain. Whining his name, Clark cooes at you; big hands moving to pull your clothes off. Your nerves are going haywire but you need this- need him to make you feel things, lifting your hips to help him slide your shorts and underwear off, spreading your legs as you let him get a good look at your messy wet hole twitching in need.

Clark swears, hooking his hands under your knees and bending them towards your chest. Exposing you more as he licks his lips, keeping his eyes glued to your cunt.

“Atta girl, jus’ lay there nice n pretty and I’ll give you what you need..”

Part ✌🏽…

[seumyo]

bakugou’s never been happier to do this alongside you.

The sound of Bakugou’s ringtone—specifically one for those calls—the kind that only came when villains decided to cause trouble at ungodly hours—jolted him awake on the second ring. The kind that meant neither of you were getting any more sleep.

He groaned loudly, his voice raspy from sleep. “Son of a—” He didn’t even finish the curse as he snatched his phone and squinted at the glowing screen. “What the hell is it this time?”

Beside him, you stirred, mumbling groggily as you pulled the blanket over your head. “Is it another one?” you asked sleepily, your voice muffled.

Bakugou ignored you for the moment, his phone pressed to his ear as the barking voice of the dispatcher filled the room. His brows furrowed deeper, his scowl turning deadly as he listened to the report. “Villains in the old district? At this hour? Those bastards don’t sleep or somethin’? Yeah, yeah—I got it. We’ll be there.”

He slammed the phone down on the bed, letting out a deep sigh as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Goddamn it. I hate this stupid job.”

You let out a small laugh beneath the blanket. “Liar.”

Bakugou glared at the lump of fabric that was you—his partner. “What’d you just say?”

“You heard me,” you teased, peeking out just enough for him to see the drowsy smile on your face—which can barely be seen with the dim light of the moonlight outside the bedroom window. “You love this job, Kats. You’d combust without it.”

“Like hell I would,” he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m only outta bed ‘cause I don’t trust those extras not to screw up.”

“You’re up because you want to. Big difference.”

“Whatever.” Bakugou shot you a glance over his shoulder. “Hurry your ass up. Don’t got time for you to sit there all cozy like we ain’t got villains to blow up.”

You didn’t budge.

“Give me two minutes. I just need to—hey!”

Bakugou had moved without warning, stomping back to the bed and scooping you up in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised squeak as he effortlessly picked you up, blanket and all, and cradled you against his chest.

“Katsuki!” you protested, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, barely sparing you a glance as he carried you toward the door. “You’re slow as hell when you’re tired. This’ll save time.”

“You can’t just carry me every time we get called in!”

“Watch me.”

He stomped down the hallway, his bare feet thudding against the wooden floor, while his voice dipped into a string of curses. “Stupid villains. Stupid middle-of-the-night calls. Stupid hero work. I’m gonna blast whoever’s causing this into the next century.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter now, your head falling back against his shoulder. “You sound like a cranky old man.”

“Keep talkin’ and I’m droppin’ you,” Bakugou threatened. “Why the hell are you laughin’? Think this is funny?”

“Very. You’re like my happy pill.”

“Yeah? And you’re heavy,” he grumbled, though the way he carried you effortlessly said otherwise.

“Excuse me?!”

A corner of Bakugou’s mouth quirked up as he looked down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes despite his perpetual scowl. “I didn’t say nothin’. Quit wastin’ time.”

You smiled against his shoulder, listening to him grumble about this whole ordeal. He sounded pissed—like the world had wronged him personally by waking you two up—but you could see the truth in his actions. His grip was steady, his movements careful as he carried you to where your hero gear was waiting. It was such a Bakugou thing to do: grumble and complain, but still take care of you without hesitation.

By the time you make it to the gear room, Bakugou carefully sets you down on your feet. You wobbled slightly from the sudden shift, and Bakugou’s hand instinctively shot out to steady you.

“Oi, don’t fall on me now.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes before turning to grab your hero suit. “You’re way too grumpy for someone who just carried me all the way here. Admit it—you love being a hero.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You do, though,” you teased, already halfway into your gear. “I know you do.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, but he didn’t argue. Instead, his voice softened just enough to make you pause. “I wouldn’t do this job if it meant leavin’ you to deal with shit alone.”

You stilled, looking at him from the corner of your eye. He was standing by the doorway now, fully suited up and waiting for you, his face set in his usual determined scowl. But something about the way he looked at you, about the small, unspoken truths in his words, made your chest feel warm.

“Y’know, you’re so sweet to me at the most inconvenient times. Why can’t you say things like that when I don’t look like I’ve been ran over by a truck because I’m sleep deprived?”

“Die.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me too, Ka-tsu-ki?”

He scoffed. “Hurry up, dumbass. We’ve got work to do.”

“Ha! You didn’t deny it, so I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Shut up, you’re annonyin’.”

You smiled faintly, finishing the last of your preparations before walking over to him. “But you love me.”

“Of fucking course,” Bakugou said, opening the door and stepping out into the brisk night air. “Let’s go. Those idiots could only hold out for so long ‘cause they really had to call us in.”

You followed close behind, still smiling to yourself as you fell into step next to him. Despite his grumbles, despite the curses under his breath, Bakugou had never been happier. Because at the end of the day, no matter how ungodly the hour, you were always there—and as far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered.

Because he loves this job—especially when he’s doing it alongside you.

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